This is Chapter 4 to a commissioned novel. It is set in my Caretaker Universe, and is universe canon. The story follows Rooky, a young male tanuki (basically a raccoon with some panda thrown in there :P), who has made some extraordinarily bad life choices, but eventually goes off his better judgment and makes a very poor choice indeed... One that sucks him into the clutches of a certain secret society.


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Against the Grain
Chapter 4
(FA formatting is crap. Download to read it the way it was meant to be read.)

Chapter 4
“This one is going to be trouble,” Senior Caretaker Andria said, looking over a wildly grinning Riley in her strict, messy office some two days before Rooky’s kidnapping, “I hope you’re up for it, I can smell the sleaze a mile away. Keep a very firm hand, and don’t be afraid to ask for advice if you need it. We’ll be watching.” Riley had, of course, been studying Rooky’s file for three months prior to the final briefing, and knew very well his reputation for mischief. Not six months earlier he’d been dismissed early from a jailing center because he was more trouble than he was worth, and the judge thew out the minor drug possession charge after the tanuki had cobbled together a screwdriver in a communal cell and unscrewed half the bolts in the beds, which collapsed causing a half dozen injuries and several very serious threats to Rooky’s life by the other inmates. He’d relocated to a different part of the capital, as he seemed to do every few months regardless, which the reports had said signified, a deep lack of attachment to material possessions, less than any desire to avoid suspicion. Values reputation and appearances deeply, then went into great detail about the related psychology.
As such, the final interview with her SC was more a morale boosting pep-talk for Riley than any real desire to confer additional information. The background information was very thorough, and she had all she could ever need in an anonymous brown folder on her desk. “I’ll do my best,” the coyote had said, equally mischievously, quite looking forward to the challenge.
“Normally I’d like to have a more experienced junior in this position, maybe even a specialist, but I have faith your… Mutual worldviews will have more of an impact than anything. You know as well as I do how hard of a nut to crack some of these sorts can be, and I look forward to your reports on the subject. You’ve had this one coming to you for some time now, don’t waste it.” Andria had a long, decorated history for winning out over some of the toughest initiates the organization had taken, and, as a result, had been promoted to Junior Instructor, and finally Senior Caretaker at a surprisingly young age. She was thirty six, and Riley took the comment as the flattery it was however blandly delivered.
“Really, Andria?” Riley said, putting a foot shamelessly up on the leopard’s desk and reclining in her chair, her demeanor changing from the stiff formality that the caretaker bureaucracy so often called for into a lithe, playful, mischievously childish flam in the breadth of a moment, “Tougher than me? Somehow I doubt that.”
“Riley, get your feet off my desk,” Andria said, glaring at the coyote while returning none of her enjoyment. The two couldn’t possibly have been more different, and yet Riley had never had any doubts about receiving Rooky as a charge. It couldn’t have been anyone else, really. They had a history, and he wouldn’t know it until he was already a cub.
“Oh, alright,” Riley sighed, standing up and finishing her coffee, black, then straightening her sweater and waiting to be dismissed, then muttered, “Hard ass…”
“I heard that,” the leopard retorted, her elongated tail flicking frustrated behind her as Riley shirked formality once again, acting in a way that she knew was only intended to further goad her into losing her composure. Andria sighed, not letting Riley get the best of her, subconsciously deciding to treat her like the recalcitrant cub that she had never really stopped being, and waved a paw, returning to her nearly endless supply of uncompleted paperwork, “Scoot, you overgrown brat,” she said, keeping an eye on Riley as she smiled and practically pranced out of the room. Any more immature and she’d be putting kick-me signs on people’s backs, the leopard said internally, then waited for the door to fully close before checking the back of her sweater for just that. Alas, it was bare, and, unaware of the laxative Riley had put in her coffee using some coyote sleight of hand, went back to work.
Riley dawdled, circling the top floor of the New Haven Resort and Hotel’s administrative building, which was located in the northernmost corner of the prestigious resort’s extremely exclusive VIP wing, which took up almost a quarter of the total campus. There was two lines of offices, one on the east side overlooking the general admission pool and hotel complex, and one on the North side, which had an excellent view of the synthetic lakefront and the newly constructed water park that had been added to the resort, though, much to many of the vacationers disdain, it was only open to the general public on weekends, but was clearly still in use.
Today was a Tuesday, so the coyote walked over to the windowed hallway that ran along the Western side of the ten story glass building’s top floor, and looked out at the glistening and splashing Wild Water Wonderland, as it had been affectionately referred to on the hotel’s four-color brochures, handed out at wealthy parties with the hopes that it would be left on their parents kitchen tables only to be discovered by their young children, who would then proceed to pester their parents endlessly until they agreed to pay the hotel’s exorbitant nightly room rental fees that they might ride the slides and wave pools all day. Riley inwardly felt a stab of nostalgia as she saw the nominal VIPs, caretaker initiates like the coyote had been six months before, waddling after each other in adorable swimming onesies and waterproof diapers nearly as thick as her fist. Nobody let go of half a decade’s regression therapy in six months, it didn’t happen, and, time-tested as the weaning process was, the systemic shock and cognitive dissonance of being thrust back into an adult position, even by her own choice, turned out to be considerably more powerful than the drop into infantilism had been to her in the first place, and she still occasionally woke up, reached for her plushy, and only belatedly realized that it was no longer there. She’d nominally weaned herself off that, and going from initiate to junior caretaker required a total mental overhaul, but nobody ever said that would be easy.
“Three days,” Riley said with a sigh, all of her grandiose posturing slipping away from her now that she was out of the public eye, and appreciating the sight of overgrown cubs running about the park below, playing, carefree and full of life. “Three more days,” she said again, shaking her head and feeling her heart rate increase at the thought of it. She was less than a workweek away from binding herself to someone else, entirely for their benefit and with no motivation less pure than a desire to help others, and set them on the path to happiness. That’s what she’d signed up for.
Wanting to take her mind off the literal life changing event that would occur not seventy two hours hence, the coyote took the slick, external glass elevator down the west side of the building and enjoyed the view, stepping out into the lobby and smiling at the caretaker’s record master, who doubled as the headquarters receptionist, an ancient looking she-wolf that Riley knew was one of the founding members of their organization. She didn’t even look up at the coyote as she passed, since the waiting room was full of other junior caretakers and a few other non-com staff from various wings of their organization waiting to submit reports, sit down to interviews, and otherwise keep the well oiled bureaucracy turning well on its axle.
Riley passed out into the outdoor foyer, which had a majestically tooled garden that was being tended to by a few of the advanced-class initiates, who had opted to take gardening, horticulture, or some other herbalistic professional study while still under regression, including a certain white, furry feline that the coyote recognized, and a middle aged, unbound caretaker who was watching over the group as they waddled around in ducky onesies and fluffy diapers. Stella, the white cat, was a total shut-in that absolutely hated Riley for her playful, outgoing nature, and favored the coyote with a glare and a hiss as she passed, looking up with her plastic trowel held in a death grip as though she might use it to defend herself if Riley attacked, but the coyote only chuckled and continued on, lightly nudging the feline with a foot as she passed and receiving a hiss for her efforts.
The coyote continued on, aimlessly wandering the VIP area and reminiscing, passing down the columned corridors of the various nursery rooms where the initiates were either fast asleep in naps at this time, playing, eating lunch, or taking their turn out at the large pool. She could see herself as if in a dream, hiding behind a column and jumping out to spook some of the more controlling caretakers, then putting on her best puppy dog eyes to try and get away with it - not that that ever worked. She knew the twists and turns of the complex by heart, paw and tail tip, so well after literal years of running through them that she wagered she could navigate the place blindfolded.
So distracted was she in her nostalgic musings that Riley didn’t even notice as first one, then a second diaper clad initiate ran face-first into her, both so caught up in their play that they didn’t see the suited caretaker in front of them. Both looked up slightly, Riley being taller than most and, having shoes where they did not, stood a fair bit above them. They waited a moment as they waited for the caretaker to reprimand them, or, horrible as the thought may be, put them in time out. She did nothing of the sort, looking down into the little red fox’s eyes and seeing the same youthful innocence that she so deeply treasured, then smiled and scratched the twenty two year old kit behind the ears, patted his diapered behind, and sent him and his friend back off to play with a wink.
Passing out the back of the daycare facilities, which existed to provide a sense of community amongst all the initiates and caretakers, the feeling of oneness that made the unity and loyalty of the organization so strong, Riley walked down the pristine beach that could have been a scene from a postcard, where the initiates had already been herded off to meet with their respective caretakers to go home for the night, and pulled up a lawn chair. Several extremely expensive lakeside cottages were visible on the far other side of the lake, also owned by the New Haven resort, and often rented for honeymoon couples who didn’t want to be more than a twenty minute drive from downtown, and yet still feel engrossed in nature. Riley made to pull the chair down the beach, and watch the evening sun set over the horizon as she pondered her changing roles, then thought better of it and just sat down in the sand by the lakeside.
The reality that she’d never again run these shores as a child hung heavy on the coyote’s heart like a lead weight. “I didn’t know it would be this hard…” Riley said to herself, looking out over the water and occasionally tossing a stone in to break up the silence, and tried to think more optimistically. “It’s not just an end,” Riley said with a sigh, “It’s a beguining. Your turn to start something new, help someone else…” The well-worn words she’d been told, in some form another, when she’d been tested to become a junior, were heartening if nothing else, clearly showing as they did that her plight wasn’t a new one, or one that was unique to her.
Another stone plunked into the water as the sun just started to dip behind the hills to the west, marking the end of the day, and Riley’s inner child naively wondered if the sun felt like she did now every day, fading into the horizon only to rise again, and shine all the brighter the next day, and the childish notion gave her some confidence. After all, this wasn’t just any child she’d be helping, it was Rooky… And if anyone needed her help right now, it was him.