Shy

by Snel_Hest

In Good Company.

She does call. Just like she said she would.

It’s not just a courtesy on her part either. You’re not quite sure how she managed with all those animals before, but after the first call, you find yourself hauling bags of feed down once or twice a week. It’s not really a big trouble for you anyway, the cost of gas is high, but the company is pleasant, and it’s definitely a good thing to get out of the city once in a while.

Out at her shelter, everything just seems more pleasant. That serenity just seems to exude from her as she goes around to the animals. Everyone one of them has a name, too, you learn, and she talks to them all as she goes, never condescending, and not baby-talk, but genuine discussions, if a bit one-sided.

Despite that, it really seems to work. All the animals are docile as can be when she comes around, and she handles the wolf –yes, it was an actual wolf- in the front pen with the same love as the red-tailed hawk with a broken wing. They’re not pets, she says, they’re wild, delivered to her by concerned people who found them, but with the way that wolf wags its tail when she comes near, you find it a bit hard to believe.

That’s not to say she doesn’t have pets, of course; there are cats, rats, dogs, frogs, birds, turtles and a particularly mischievous rabbit living inside the main structure of the house with her.

It’s not even really a house, just a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen, all surrounding one large room that is dominated by her adoring pets.

It’s pretty easy to see why she wasn’t comfortable in the city. Why would she have any need to go there when she’s got all the attention she could possibly need here?

That’s not to say that she ignores you, either. She insists on coming with you to get the food (‘it’s not that I don’t trust you,’ she says, her heart in her eyes, ‘but if something went wrong and one of them got sick, I’d just die!’) and comes out of the front door as you’re coming down the driveway, wearing another one of those over-sized faded yellow sweaters. She pays for the gas, and she’s always asking about how your week has been going.

You’re quite honestly sure you’ve never met anyone so excited in making sure everyone around them is happy, but honestly, who doesn’t need more of that in their life?

Once the food has been obtained from a particular old man who greets her with a delighted hug and you with suspicious eye, and after she’s thanked him profusely again and again, you pile back into the car and make the trip back.

At first, you just saw her home and went back to the city, (after she’d thanked you profusely again and again) but after a few visits, you decided to see the animals too, and she was glad to show each and every one of them to you, each with a formal introduction, and the occasional admonishment for them to be nice to you, with an aside on your part that they’re just not used to strangers.

Compared to the complexity of school and life in the city, it’s not hard to see why you find yourself looking forward to the visits more and more. Life is busy, and often difficult, but at the shelter, things are always positive, even when things aren’t going well.

Shy is, of course, not bothered by you spending more time there. She’s just as happy to have human company, on her terms, as she is for another animal to join the group.

You know this because she tells you that herself, and when she looks at you with those big blue eyes, you’re somehow sure that she’d never mislead you. So, you come down more. You even start to get to know the animals, although she still insists on coming down to get the food.

Eventually you meet some of her other friends as well.

First is Danni, who roars up the driveway on a bright blue motorcycle, and only becomes slightly quieter once off. She’s a short girl, though densely packed with muscles, and an attitude that screams before she even opens her mouth; she has a Mohawk and wears a leather jacket that looks at least as old as she is, with jeans worn through in places. The only thing that seems new and clean is the bike.

Then, when she does talk, it’s hard to believe that she and Shy are even friends. Where Shy is quiet and unassuming, Danni’s always shouting and laughing loudly. She greets Shy with a crushing hug at the door and ditches her helmet onto a nearby chair, sending a couple cats fleeing.

You’d think that there was nothing the two girls had in common, but Danni engages each of the pets with the same enthusiasm as she’s shown everything else, even getting into a wrestling match with a rambunctious St. Bernard. Shy watches with an indulgent smile; clearly this is not anything out of the ordinary.

Finally, Danni greets an old tortoise with a fond pat, noting to you, ‘This one’s mine, but the landlord won’t let him stay with me.’

You take that as a greeting. You’re not really sure how else you could take it.

It’s only then, once she sits down on one of the kitchen stools and puts her feet up on the table (despite the tight-lipped grunt of disapproval from Shy, met with an irreverent grin) that she chooses to consider you as anything of interest.
Despite the fact that you’d stand head and shoulders above her, she looks you up and down with an obvious challenge.
‘So you’re another one of Shy’s strays, huh?’

Shy steps in, blushing and tries to apologise for her, but you’re already in on it. Danni’s expression makes it clear that Shy’s reaction is the only reason she said anything in the first place, so you just laugh.

‘Don’t worry, Shy, it’ll take more than that to hurt my feelings.’ You tell her, and she relaxes, slightly.

‘I grew up with Danni,’ she explains, but you’d already put that together, there aren’t too many other ways a girl with Shy’s habits could meet someone like this. ‘We were in the same elementary schools, the same summer camps, everything.’

‘Someone had to make sure Shy left the house,’ Danni cuts in, ‘and to make sure that she didn’t come home with every wild animal she met.’

‘I didn’t try to take home every wild animal.’ Shy objects, ‘just the ones that needed a little help.’

‘Suuuuuuuure,’ Danni says, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and Shy grumbles under her breath again. This seems to be a long-standing game between the two.

‘Honestly, though, Shy helped a lot more than just the animals growing up, you know? I figure I owe her at least a few visits every month to make sure she still talks to people sometimes.’ That much, at least, seems to be serious.

‘Now, if I can only convince her to come to town a little more often. I never liked that guy you were with, but at least he managed to get you out of here every once in a while.’

Danni seems to note that the guy hasn’t been around much, but is astute enough to tell from the looks on both your faces that it’s not a point worth discussing.

‘Hmph. All I’m saying is that I’ll go and team up with Rae to get you out again if I have to. I’m dead serious.’

Rae is the other girl Shy sees on a semi-regular basis, if only because she’s a neighbour. Although, she owns a fashion shop in town, she does most of her actual design work at home, and breaks for creative re-energizing frequently find their way to Shy’s kitchen, fluffy white cat in tow.

She’s the complete opposite of Danni in appearance and demeanour, however. Where Danni is short, rough and crude, Rae is a tall, refined woman of dark skin, but with a slightly British accent. Her clothing, even while working, is almost a work of art, and her hair, so dark and shining it seems almost purple in the light, is made up artfully.

Despite what would seem her likely distaste for the filth of the animals – and Danni, when they met – she seems to enjoy Shy’s home and company, and though she might come across as unapproachable, she’s anything but.

The first time you meet her, she takes one look at you, measuring in her mind (whether as part of her employment, or just as a person, you can’t tell) and then, having apparently made a decision, sets about in her most charming attitude.

In a few minutes, she’s sharing stories as if you’d known her your whole life.

‘And so Shy is there, being pushed around by this horrible big-city photographer, feeling about as miserable as she could but doing it anyway, just for me, and I have the audacity to resent her for the fame.’ Shy’s eyes are on the floor, a rosy blush on her cheeks, but Rae puts a hand on her arm reassuringly.

‘I felt so dreadful at the end of it. I can’t believe I was so short-sighted.

Frankly, you’re a little surprised at the idea of Shy wearing high fashion. This from the girl who wears enormous sweaters as if it was a religious commandment?

‘Rae wanted a model, and I’m always right next door. It certainly wasn’t a bother to me.’ Shy explains, cheeks still red.

‘Oh nonsense, dear,’ Rae interrupts, ‘She’s always willing to do anything for anyone that asks. She can’t seem to say no. It’s more than that though, isn’t it?’ She gives Shy a penetrating stare, which Shy can only meet for a moment, but Rae just throws her hands in the air.

‘I’m trying to get her to just admit that she’s just about the most wonderful creature I’ve ever seen, but she won’t!’ She declares to you. Wisely, you keep silent. Shy’s face burns.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, dear, I’ll stop in front of the company, but really, I’ve never seen anyone so… so… graceful, so stunning’
Shy’s face now resembles a tomato, and Rae laughs a charming slivery laugh, and then goes back to fetch more tea, directing the conversation elsewhere.

It’s only after you’ve left that you realize you barely had the chance to say anything in the whole conversation.

Mostly though, it’s just Shy and the animals around the shelter, and with the quiet, sincere girl comes a serenity that you just don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

She doesn’t call much anymore, but she really doesn’t need to, you’re usually already there.

Comments

[Lium]

Rarity, black? If you say so...

[sharpshadow]

1 like and 4 dislikes? What am I missing here? I kinda like it.

[Snel_Hest]

2346383
I didn't want to overwhelmingly specific about it, but I was thinking one of the former British colonies that make up either parts of South America or Africa, to explain the accent. Besides that, my experiences with some of the upper class from those areas mimics the reserved and refined attitude my interpretation has.

On the other hand, I wrote a story, and in so far as I'm allowed to make it up, I will. Skin colour really doesn't matter that much

[Snel_Hest]

2346614
Some people like things, and some people hate them. It's in the nature of people.
I'm glad you enjoyed, and hope you will continue to do so.

That said, I'd prefer a bit more clarity as to the exact source of their distaste. If it's simply my choice of content (Humanizing, or the skin colour, which seems to have been of note to another comment) then there's little I can do, but if it's due to some flaw in the writing, then I'd be much happier if I were able to repair that failure.

[kalash93]

I don't understand the hate. Perhaps its because the world is completely anthropomorphizes. Perhaps its because you've changed the names around. I don't understand it. It's not a stellar story, but it's not awful, toxic, or painful. I'm only two chapters in, so I'll need to read the rest first before I pass judgement.