The Crimson Z

by Robert Cloud, Lee Rush, Richard Savage

  Good night, my love.

  * * * *

  The bell at the door chimed before his coffee had even finished percolating. Quickly he walked to the door but just before he got there he remembered that once he opened that door he would appear to be every bit the old bent arthritic man she had seen outside the day before so he slowed and bent over and shuffled the last few steps to the door so that the change would not be so dramatic and sudden that she might notice a shift in his appearance. It was difficult for him to maintain the posture though for he was excited about her arrival, feeling more like a boy opening the door for his girlfriend than an old man opening one for his assistant.

  Slowly he opened the door and Melanie smiled up at him, “Good morning, Papa Zach,” she almost sang then she stepped around him and nearly danced into the shop.

  He watched her as she walked about looking at everything. There was a bounce in her step like she was filled with exuberance. He wondered if it was the joy of having someone to talk to, for he had felt that emptiness and sadness in her the day before. Perhaps it was from how excited she had seemed about the idea of him telling her the stories. Could it be that all her happiness could be wrapped around the thought that when she had finished her tasks for the day she would get to listen to one or more of the tales of the treasures?

  What ever it was it was filling his heart to see her in a much happier state of mind than she had been in the day before. Still there was a barrier within her that he could feel that was holding her back from releasing her true joy. Something deep inside her that was dark and sad kept her from truly knowing what happiness really was.

  "Melanie,” he said, “why would you rather be here helping an old man on a Saturday morning than out with your friends.” Zachariah was afraid he already knew the answer but he had to hear it for himself.

  The young girl found a rag and some cleaner and had already begun cleaning the glass display cases. She looked up and said, “I really like to be of use to someone."

  "Oh, sweetheart, I know young girls like you have lots of friends and you usually go places and talk about boys and shop on Saturdays. Why are you here and not with them?"

  She looked at him and smiled, “Oh, I am your sweetheart am I, you dirty old man.” Then she laughed but the laughter slowly faded and he could see tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes so he walked over to her.

  "Listen, Melanie, you can tell me. I do not know anyone else to tell, so I will be your confidant, and your friend."

  She walked around the cabinet and wrapped her arms around him, he had not expected that and it shocked him, yet somehow it seemed right too. He knew she could trust him, maybe somehow she knew it too. She looked up to him and said, “I don't have any friends. They make fun of me because I don't wear jeans and gym shoes but dress up all the time except for when I had classes that required me to wear other kinds of clothes.

  "I just want to dress this way. No one makes me. I prefer to dress like a woman and not be sleazy and slinky. I don't like the types of tight fitting clothing that the girls wear that show off their bodies. I want to be attractive, but refined, like a southern belle, or a princess not a teenage vamp trying to lure her boyfriend.

  "So they all make fun of me and don't want anything to do with me. I eat lunch alone in the library. I study alone.” She laid her head against his chest and added, “You are the first person in ages that has tried to be a friend to me that did not try to lift my dress."

  Then she stepped back and wiped her eyes and said, “So, Papa Zach, I am with my friend. I am here and I am helping him get ready for a very important day for him.” Then she turned and went back to scrubbing the glass without another word. Zachariah almost felt like a heel for having pushed that confession out of her but at the same time he felt warm inside for it was true he did like the girl and would be her friend, her true friend.

  For hours she worked hard at scrubbing the glass of the cases. Every so often she would look up at him and see him going over some of the drawers of the jewelry that would stock the outer display cases, his eyepiece examining each piece meticulously. It was odd how close she had come to feel to him in such a short period but she already felt like she had known him for a very long time. There was something about him that touched her deeply and made her feel warm and comfortable, almost loved. It was a feeling she had never felt before. Melanie could not understand the reason she felt like this but it was wonderful, and she wanted more of it. She wanted to be with Papa Zach as much as she could because the time with him seemed to make all the pain and loneliness of her life disappear. She had not lied to him about truly being alone. Even her own mother did not love her. She made no qualms about telling her everyday that she did not.

  Melanie could feel the tears come to her eyes again but as she did, she looked up at Papa Zach and she no longer felt the need to cry. Instead, she felt the need to run over and jump in his arms and hug him like she had never hugged anyone in her life. She smiled to herself, what were these feelings within her. He was an old man and she would be eighteen soon. Their ages were too far apart, why would she feel this way toward him and in such a short time? Yet there was no doubt that her heart beat a little stronger every time she looked at him.

  It also had to be her imagination but when he was inside his shop he did not appear to be as old as he had when she had first seen him. He appeared to be much younger, sturdier, stronger, but that was impossible. It was like he was two different men.

  There was only one other thing that held as much fascination for her as did Papa Zach and that was the mysterious cabinet. Though she did not look at it nearly half as often as she did him, she still looked at it quite a bit. She glanced up as she finished cleaning the glass of the last case and it was just past six. She decided to let her curiosity have a little freedom.

  She got a can of spray wax and some clean cloths and walked over to the cabinet, but as she looked at it she realized that it did not need waxing. Papa Zach had given her the key to it earlier so that she could clean the glass inside it as well, so she slid the key in the lock and as she twisted it she heard a slight click and like magic the two doors began to open slowly on their own. Her eyes again grew large as she became transfixed by the startling beauty of the masterpieces that aligned the shelves within. She reached toward the glass but her hand paused short of it, fear filled her. She just did not feel right.

  The jewelry inside was worthy of being in the Smithsonian or the Louvre but not touched by someone as plain and unattractive as she was. Somehow she felt if she were to clean them she would taint them and they would loose their value. Slowly she lowered her head feeling as worthless as her mother had always told her she was.

  She knew he was standing behind her long before he spoke. It was unusual that anyone could get so close to her without her noticing but there was just something so unique about the old man that not only made her comfortable about him but made her know she was safe. She had no need to have her guards up when he was around. It was as if he and she had been friends since time had begun and she trusted him like she trusted no other.

  "So, I guess you are ready for your first payment?” He spoke, his voice not the quivering voice of a man that had to be past a hundred but the voice of a strong young man. His voice alone sent shivers down her spine making her feel as if it entered her soul and caressed her heart. If there was not such a huge age difference she felt that a man like Papa Zach would be a man she could live with forever. He continued with his soothing tone, “I promised you a story about these pieces, is there one that draws your attention and summons you to hear its story more than any of the others?

  Melanie looked at all the pieces and immediately knew what piece she wanted to hear about. There was something about it that drew her more than the others. Though it was exceptionally crafted it looked like it may have been the first piece that the master worked on before he had perfected his talent.

  "Go ahead,” Zachariah urged her, “pick one
out."

  She turned to him and tears were in her eyes as she said, “Papa Zach, they are so beautiful, I am afraid to touch them. I am just a plain girl I do not compare to these at all."

  Zachariah took her by the shoulders, looked into her eyes, and said, “Of all the jewels in the world there are two that sparkle brighter than any gemstone and those are your eyes. Of all the treasures in the world there is one that is more finely crafted than any craftsman could ever dream of making and that is your soul. You have no reason to doubt your value you are the greatest jewel in this room. So slide open the doors and choose a piece of jewelry for me to tell you a story about."

  Melanie could feel her heart melting; no man had ever spoken to her like that. No one had ever placed such a value on her. Suddenly she felt very beautiful at least in the eyes of Papa Zach. She turned and pushed the doors aside and reached toward the very first piece in the collection, a ring that was made of a pair of entwined serpents. Before her fingers touched it she heard a gasp from behind her and turned to look at Papa Zach. He had gone white, even whiter than his frail translucent skin was in its normalcy.

  "Is something wrong, Papa Zach?"

  "Sweet girl, I promise I will tell you the ring's story, but I ask you let it not be today? I need time to get used to the idea of that one. There are some personal feelings that lie deep within my family's memory on that piece."

  Melanie nodded and then said, “Well then, you mentioned some pieces of legendary proportions. A story perhaps that is filled with a magic that is unbelievable?"

  Papa Zach's color returned quickly and he smiled. Slowly he reached for a pendant that dangled from a chain of gold so delicate it looked like it was spun from the silken web of a spider. The pendant was that of finely etched foil leaves of gold wrapped about one another to forever capture the beauty of a real rose in the soft metal. It was lightly etched with a webbing of gold lace about the rose. To Melanie it looked like if you were to even touch it within the gentlest of grasps that it would be crushed beyond repair.

  "The story behind this piece is one of those of myth and legend. It encompasses creatures long forgotten and others greatly misunderstood. It's about love between two of these that cursed them beyond the end of their days. Yet it is a story of such profound beauty and love that it touches the heart like few others. Oddly the story is a story told by yet another creature of legend. It is told from the heart of the son of one of the two accursed lovers as he tells it to one he loves but knows he is doomed to never be able to truly love.” A tear slid down Zach's heavily wrinkled cheek and got lost in one of the canyons of his age. Melanie felt her heart tug and she wanted to reach out to him but saw him straighten his shoulders as he began to unfold the tale before her.

  Love of a Pendant's Heart

  A Short Novella by Lee Rush

  Chapter One

  The purple hues of dusk were darkening as he stepped under the willow tree, edging forward silently. He knew she was there ... he could tell by her scent on the breeze that wafted through the willow branches. He peeked around the trunk of the huge tree and smiled down at her, not surprised that she was asleep. She had been asleep the first time he came upon her in this very place. Adrian had been as touched by her beauty then as he was now but that first time ... well, that was different. Then he had needed to feed; now he just longed to see his love.

  Over the time he had known her, his feelings had grown and his heart ached for her when they were apart. Her human life and his Anthro life seemed to conspire to keep them apart but he came to her as often as he could.

  That first time he had introduced her to the dark pleasure that paved the way for future feedings, his only intent had been to have her available when he needed her blood. The way she responded to him and the way that response made him feel had begun to change his future plans for her as well as his attitude toward her. At first, he fought the feelings, tried to keep her in place as simply something he used from time to time but that didn't last long. She touched his heart with her innocence and then her love for him and his picture of her as dinner quickly faded.

  Although he had not been able to give her any sort of commitment, she had remained available to him and even desired him, engendering a type of love he had never wanted to feel again. Too many times he had loved and lost because of who and what he was. Too many times he had grieved and been forced to go on again. He wasn't going to do it again ... but she had changed that and he wasn't sure if it was a change for the better.

  At least he hadn't been sure ... he was now. He loved her with all his heart and knew as he slid his hand into his pocket and fingered the small metal piece there, that this day would bring changes. Changes he hoped she could accept.

  He watched her for a few more minutes, then stepped back and composed himself. Putting most sad thoughts aside, he stepped toward her as he normally would, brushing the hanging branches back without trying to be quiet.

  She shifted, trying to ease back into the pleasant realm of dreams. Even though she had been dozing, the soft susurration of the moving leaves was enough to disturb her in this place of quietude. She had come to her favorite place in the world to relax and read her newest acquisition of poetry in the late afternoon. Apparently she had dozed off as the warmth of the afternoon turned into the cooler shading of dusk, and then the buzz of the evening insects lulled her.

  She opened her eyes slowly at the rustling sound and smiled softly. Dangling in front of her face was a pendant of spun gold, slowly swinging from side to side on a delicate chain. The barely risen moon shone through the leaves and highlighted the details of the pendant ... a rose of gold surrounded by webs of the finest spun threads of gold. Tiny leaves with all the intricacies of real rose leaves and the delicate petals made her gasp softly as she reached up with one slender finger and pushed the pendant to widen the arc of its swing.

  She cleared the sleep from her throat and spoke. All things, even her voice seemed soft in this special place at this special time of day where the heat of the day had been banished by the darkening skies and the scents of the night blooming flowers filled the air.

  "I wonder ... who would be showing me this beauty?"

  Turning first her head to catch a glimpse of his fur covered hand, then turning her upper body to gaze up at the creature that teased her with the necklace. Her heart leapt as she caught sight of his face, his strange eyes looking down at her. No, not strange ... his. Eyes like none she had ever seen before ... blue with spikes of green around the irises. Once upon a time, his eyes had seemed strange to her but no longer. She knew him now, knew his moods, knew his eyes as they changed color when he was excited, and she knew his touch as well. She delighted in the knowing of him. There had been times she had despaired of ever seeing him again because of the things he was required to do in his different half-life but he came back again and again and each time he returned, her heart was filled with more love for him.

  "Hello, Adrian."

  That's all it took to bring all the feelings for him back in full force. Some might say she was daft for being here with him, daft for a young woman to be with such a creature at all, but they didn't know him. He was a special creature whose history was buried in the days of old when such as anthrofoxes were the norm in these parts. She had known him for a few years now and he was always the same ... always the soft auburn fur covering his body, always the almost human visage that smiled at her, gallant and polite beyond belief.

  "Good evening, my dear Crys,” he murmured as he moved around to stand in front of her. He smiled as he saw the light in her eyes that always shone forth when they were together.

  He let the delicate chain slip between his fingers until it dropped into her hand. As she closed her hand around the pendant and chain, trapping the exquisite pendant in her palm, he leaned down and kissed the back of her hand causing her to shiver with pleasure. He peeked up over her hand as he kissed it and smiled that sexy smile that seemed to light up his expressive face.
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br />   "It's lovely, Adrian,” she whispered, her voice reduced to even greater softness as the twinkle in his eyes caused her heart to beat faster.

  "And a bit more permanent than the red roses I usually bring. I hope it pleases you, my sweet Crys."

  "It more than pleases me, Adrian. Where ever did you find such a lovely creation?"

  He sat beside her on the blanket and leaned back against the tree trunk before he answered her. A shadow crossed his face, but was it from a cloud across the moon? Or a sadness in his expression? Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that she may have caused him sadness when all she ever wanted to do was see him smile.

  He was shaking his head as he slid his arm around her shoulder. She sighed happily at the closeness she had missed for so long and nestled against him as he pulled her close. The warmth of his fur against her skin tickled her flesh and delighted her as his tail wrapped up around her legs. His breath ruffled her hair as she snuggled against his neck. The colors of his fur against her flesh blended in the early evening dark and it was as if they were both human ... or both anthrofoxes instead of one of each.

  "My father said it belonged to my mother, Crys and therein lies a sad tale."

  "You've never spoken much about your family, Adrian. She almost held her breath at this revelation, anxious to hear more and perhaps learn something of the past that had put sadness in his eyes each time he left her.

  "My family is long gone, sweet Crys, so there isn't much to talk about. As for my mother, well, her story is a sad one as I said ... and not one I like to tell very often."

  There was a slight catch in his voice as he spoke of his mother and it clenched at her heart.

  "I didn't mean to..."

  "No, of course you didn't and you should know the story if you are to wear her necklace."