Unforgiven

Rodney hated to admit that Rain’s trial was fairly amazing. Until today he had never been envious of another Anthro’s Mana abilities. After seeing him in action, Rodney had gained a faint modicum of respect.

“I might have started it but that doesn’t change how rude and ignorant he was,” Rodney relativized to himself. Having now heard the widely dispersed rumor that Rain was an aged cursed orphan, he kinda felt sorry for the cat. He wouldn’t want to make that deal, even to get Rain’s crazy powers.

Tapping Rain’s chair the first time was just a desperate attempt to impress Sally Montaz. She was the type of friend his dad would want him to have, her being from a Platinum house and all. So when he kicked the cat’s seat in boredom and Sally chuckled, he had been greatly encouraged. But then that little klacker shamed him for being a Gold, which was funny because he was a Platinum. Rain tricked him into looking like a braggart in front of Sally, and Rodney resented him for it.

Rodney took a meandering path towards his next destination. He would have liked to watch the Mana Games with his mother but she was too busy with her Mana Trial interviews. Instead he would now have to brave an encounter with his dad and brother.

Rodney tried to reason with his sense of dread as he pushed through a Staff only door and climbed the familiar steps leading to the announcer’s booth. He hadn’t seen his dad in about a month and the last time they were together he had been focused on training Rodney for his Mana trial.

“I mean I got the second best trial time ever, and beat my brother’s time, so that should count for something,” Rodney bargained with himself.

“Yeah.” Rodney won himself over with his own argument, “He should be proud of me, I mean I didn’t screw up at all. I even figured out I could throw the dummies into the starting area like that giant lizard Cory did.”

Rodney offered up a chant that he had only heard Anthros on screen say, “Cosmos keep me, let him be in a good mood.” Rodney knew his prayers hadn’t been answered when he walked into the glass-walled announcer’s box and sampled the mood, it was one befitting a mortuary.

Rodney’s dad, Reginald Stilspek, was sitting in the booth with his older brother, Reginald Stilspek the Second or Reginald Jr but usually just Reg. The two Anthros had brown back spotted body fur with white tufted crests similar to Rodney, but the slightly darker chestnut of Reg’s fur was even more richly ingrained in Reginald’s. Both Anthro deer had similarly large antlers that had been cut short and dulled in the latest fashion unlike Rodney whose smaller antlers were still growing in.

Reginald wore a well fitted white coat with a colorful patterned black and blue dress shirt underneath, while Reg wore some well-worn canvas pants and had his left arm in one sleeve of his Shader Mana Team jacket with the right arm prevented from doing so by the sling and cast it was trapped in.

As Rodney approached, his brother gave a disapproving scoff while he shook his head, and his dad didn’t look up from the papers he was studying. Rodney went to take a seat at the table alongside the pair but stopped awkwardly when his dad said, “I really thought you were going to win that one.”

Rodney winced at his words but then found the courage to plead his case. “Did you see? I cut almost everyone else’s time in half. I didn’t do anything to embarrass you. We’ll see how the judges score it. Maybe I beat that cursed cat. I think…” His sentence was terminated by his dad’s reproachful glare.

“I have talked with the judges and that ‘cursed cat’ is taking home the first place prize.” The words Rodney’s dad spoke detonated against pillars of his identity. “Our family’s greatest asset is our unblemished excellence. Today you parted ways with that tradition, striking out on your own path of second place equivocation.”

The psychic knife in Rodney’s gut twisted when his father added, “Oh, that reminds me, I had a whole segment in my intro about both my sons being winners of the Mana trials like me. I need to take all that out.” As he shuffled through his papers and drew a diagonal line through a paragraph.

Rodney wanted to reason with them, to make them understand that he had done his best and asking anything more was impossible. He wanted to be strong, stoic, and proud like he was expected to be. Instead he was filled with emotions of grief, sadness, regret frothing into anger. He tried to hide his reaction by turning his head and hoping tears didn’t begin to roll down his face.

Having shown weakness in front of his brother, Rodney knew he had already lost. Reg had been in a particularly terrible mood ever since he was injured in his Mana game, and Rodney had been a frequent grounding rod for his aggressive bolts of fury.

His older brother had been his tormentor for as long as he could remember. The few scars he had on his body as a result of his rage were nothing in comparison to the psychological craters left by his brother’s verbal bombardments. His earliest and deepest psychological scar had been something his brother had told him about their dad. The two had been fighting about this or that and the subject of who dad liked better was used as a verbal tool to clobber each other. His malicious tyrant of a brother, who at that time was twice his age, had gouged at his five-year-old soul when he said, “back before you were born, dad used to hug me. You will never know how that feels.”

Reg’s prophecy had so far come true and Rodney had never known his father’s embrace.

Rodney knew that his dad was indeed capable of affection. Rodney had seen him be quite loving towards his mom to the point of idolatry. Always brought her things, sending her messages, and flowers when he was away, which he was most of the time. When they were together, he would spend as much time with her as possible, often making sure the children weren’t around to spoil any of it.

When it came to his children his dad was a transactional parent that would reward specific behaviors and punish anything else that bothered him. His dad had goals, rubrics, and timelines for him that Rodney had learned were nonnegotiable.

Rodney wanted his father’s approval and was starved for his love so he always did his absolute best to perform to expectation, but right now those expectations seemed impossible.

“Thought you said you had this trial on lock? Even after you stole my metal shoe strategy you still lost!” Reg said with a smirk, clearly loving seeing his brother brought down a peg.

Reg’s taunt had pushed Rodney over the edge and tears began their journey down his furry face.

“Shut up Reg, you didn’t make up metal levitation and my time was way better than yours.”

“Ungrateful runt I taught you every trick you know!” Reg stood up menacing Rodney.

Rodney stood his ground and looked up at Reg and said, “Did you see that kid break his leg in the Trial earlier? Reminded me of you in your last Mana game! How about you teach me that trick?”

“That’s klacking it!” Reg yelled, and he made a fist with his good arm and cocked his arm back preparing a strike.

Reginald held up two of his fingers indicating silence, and both his sons obediently stopped and looked at him. Reginald looked up from his papers and directly at Rodney. “If you’re going to be a sore loser and a noisy brat you should watch the games elsewhere. I’m about to perform and I don’t want to be surrounded by some sullen slacker.”

Rodney was crushed, he felt three centimeters tall. Silently crying and not wanting them to see, Rodney turned and started walking out the way he came. His brother offered a parting taunt saying, “Yeah only winners in the booth. If you see that cursed cat, Rain, you should invite him up here. Dad can interview him. You already gave him your trophy, you might as well give him your seat.”

Rodney slammed the door shut behind him and walked out to the railing grabbing onto it and braced himself in anger. “That klacking black-furred freak ruined everything!” he cursed aloud, settling on a comfortable direction to point his anger.

Rodney felt the rage inside him boil, begging for release. The teen didn’t know what to do with himself until he looked down onto the field and in the distance spotted Rain being led by Ansel Oort into the locker rooms.