Windfall: An Otter-Body Experience

by Tempe O'Kun

  Kylie directed her to the bathroom in the guest suite. Upon returning, she found the group had unearthed a dozen busts of various species—cartoon proportions with unsettling realistic details. She smiled as Max, Sarah, and Shane parade them in front of her.

  “Who would buy these?” The rabbit studied a three-quarter scale ceramic bust of hers species, the finish only somewhat chipped.

  “How should I know?” Kylie cursed whatever weirdo relation had bought these creepy clay heads and also whoever hadn’t smashed them the first chance they got. “They’re probably older than all of us added up.”

  “But what are they for?” Sarah offered her the rabbit one, which she did not accept.

  “I don’t think they’re for anything.” Shane attempted to imitate the snarl on a cougar bust. “I think they just are.”

  Max arranged the remainder of them in a neat line on the bar, then considered them for a moment and turned them all to face each other.

  The otter reminded herself that this could be a lot weirder. Old junk like this could be found at a garage sale. Maybe a two on the crazy scale. A little part of her wanted them to find proof of the supernatural, naturally. That would be the opposite of showing her family was a bunch of crackpots. With a little luck, this would be the weirdest thing they found.

  Rune wandered back into the room. “Why are the windows in your bathroom crazy thick?”

  “What?” Kylie eeled around to face her.

  “The windows.” The bespectacled bat clicked her tongue and pointed back at the guest suite. “The glass sounds like it’s about a meter deep.”

  “That can’t be right.” She looked back toward the other guests.

  Rune rubbed a damp wing on her shirt. “It could be some kind of acoustic trick, but it’s super weird. Probably worth investigating.”

  Kylie winced. Enough investigating was already going on. The rain was still coming down outside, though, so maybe nobody would notice.

  But, across the ballroom, Sarah’s ears were already up.

  Karl turned to her, horn-cam still blinking. “What’d she say?”

  The bunny lifted a paw. “Something about a super weird bathroom.”

  A nervous chuckle bubbled up from the otter. She tried to think of something to distract everybody with, but figured pretending to faint would make her seem more insane, not less.

  The siblings and Karl picked their way back through the sea of boxes toward Rune, who led them straight to the suspicious bathroom.

  Max drifted to her side like a two-meter cloud of fluff and reassurance. Instead of using his gigantic strength to pick up all their guests and carry them to the living room to watch a movie, he offered her a resigned shrug.

  With a low and bitter chitter, Kylie waddled after the crowd. Movie night was spiraling out of control.

  The expedition trooped through the hallway and into the guest suite. By the time she caught up to them, everybody had crowded into the bathroom. It was not a super weird bathroom. It had nice shell motif on the white tiles. The windows looked like very normal privacy windows, all rippled glass like a disturbed pond. Sunlight shone in, with the faint shapes of water droplets running down them.

  Rune sat on the sink. Sarah looked around, hands folded. Karl was grinning at himself in the mirror on horn-cam. Shane had wandered into the spacious linen closet.

  Kylie lifted a webbed paw at the far end of the room. “Those windows?”

  “Yeah.” Rune shrugged, then clicked her tongue at the windows. “All three of them sound super deep. Like a meter.”

  All three windows looked like three quite ordinary, if large, glass panes. The wavy texture prevented anyone from seeing in, since they were on ground level. It wasn’t frosted glass, just the plain kind, so abstract shapes presented the full colors of the woods outside. Basically, they looked like the glass blocks hip people used to separate their kitchens from their dining rooms, just bigger. Everybody watched raindrops trace down them, like some kind of out-of-focus noir film.

  Eyes half-lidded with vague incredulity, Shane lashed his tail. “How can the windows be that thick? They only go outside.”

  Prancing delicately over the seashell-lidded toilet, she balanced on the edge of the tub and tapped a wing finger on the glass, which made a deep ring. “Because the wall is a meter thick?”

  Sarah’s ears lifted at Kylie. “Does this bathroom stay really warm in the winter?”

  The otter blinked, unsure. “Not that I noticed? But I only come here when people are using the other bathrooms.” With only three people in the house, that almost never happened. But it sounded less crazy than her explained how she’d made sure to use all the bathrooms at least once while moving in, as a sort of challenge to herself.

  Karl peered over them, horn-cam capturing the scene. “Could it be a window into another dimension? Existing outside conventional space-time?”

  The otter felt the crazy-meter rising and blurted out the first reasonable solutions she could think of. “It’s probably just pipes.”

  Everybody turned to look at her.

  Reverting to classroom protocol, Sarah raised a paw. “Pipes?”

  “Yeah! Water pipes.” Her brain shuffled through a very small stack of architectural knowledge. “Pressed against the glass, so they sound huge to echolocation.”

  Ears wiggling in thought, Rune casually cartwheeled to hang from the shower rod by her feet. “Pretty sure that’s not what’s going on.”

  With a series of polite grunts, Max squeezed to the far end of the bathroom and stood in the tub. He pressed a triangular ear to the wall. “I don’t hear any pipes.”

  Kylie forced herself to smile, then saw in the mirror how manic she looked. Her acting skills were getting rusty. “Well, that was a dead end. Back to movie night?”

  Spinning by from one foot’s grip to another, Rune examined the window sill. “Unless we can find a way into the wall.”

  Karl bounced, shaking dust from the light fixtures. “My dad has a sledgehammer.”

  Shane shrugged. “The garden shed probably has something we can break through a wall with.”

  “No!” The otter slapped her tail on the sink cabinet. “You are not demolishing my house.”

  Sarah raised her paw again.

  Everybody looked at her, the pressure of which caused her to hesitate. Her ears dropped. Her hand stayed up.

  Likewise falling into classroom etiquette, Max pointed to her.

  The rabbit puffed up, then made complex gestures. “When I run into problems like this in caves, I sometimes can solve them with math. Measuring.”

  “So you need a tape measure?” Her brother leaned against a wall, vaguely disappointed.

  One paw smoothed the fur of her long ears. “I usually just use a rope.”

  Max squeezed past everyone again, then returned with a coil of extension cord so ancient it had cloth insulation.

  The rhino studied the diamond-patterned fabric with beady eyes. “Aren’t those a fire hazard?”

  “Only if you plug them in.” He handed one end to Karl.

  After comparing the inside of the bathroom to the hallway outside it, Sarah compared the two lengths. She shrugged at the group, holding uneven lengths of cord. “About a meter off.”

  “This place was added to a bunch of times. I’m sure it’s just the outside that’s jagged in or something.”

  The rhino walked around the corner and reappeared on the small porch facing the bathroom windows from the outside. Her mom had called it the smoking porch. The red LED of his horn-cam glowed in the rain. He reappeared a second later. “That wall is completely flat.” He jerked a heavy thumb toward the row of windows in the hallway parallel to the mystery wall. “The windows look the same as these, except they’re that wavy glass.”

  Sara bundled the extension cord into a neat coil. “What’s that mean?”

  Shane shrugged. “Optical illusion?”

  Karl tapped his fingertips together. “An extra-dimensiona
l space?”

  Rune scratched her chin and dangled herself from a light fixture. “Or it’s built to fool people.”

  Kylie groaned. Much as she hoped it was proof of the supernatural, she also hoped it wasn’t stuffed with bodies or something.

  Max sniffed the wall.

  Conflict squeaked inside the lutrine. She refrained from asking why he was encouraging this, since she was in the habit of prodding him into investigating the unknown. “What are you smelling?”

  “A draft is coming out of this seam in the wall.” The husky flicked out a pocket knife, snapped it open with a flick of his clawed thumb, and gingerly slipped the blade into a gap in the wood paneling.

  The flustered otter flung her arms in the air. “Don’t stab the house!”

  The guests, meanwhile, looked at each other with obvious delight, except for Shane who only smirked.

  “It’s just open space…” He ran the blade up along the seam, then heard a clatter. “Found a latch, I think.” Prying the crack just a little wider, he stuck a claw in it. In a silvery glint, the knife clacked shut and vanished into his pocket. As he slipped the rest of his claws in position, his cool blue eyes flicked back to everybody else. “I’m going to open it.”

  The rhino giggled with glee and checked that his horn-cam was still recording. “Okay, ready!”

  His powerful shoulders rippled under his t-shirt as he pulled the panel back. With the crunch of forgotten dust, a door-sized section of the wall came cleanly away. A thin wooden dowel bounced out and rolled into the hallway. He pulled the paneling free, revealing a dark space inside. Dust shook off every surface, rattled free by the opened door. It cascaded down like a thousand tiny waterfalls and hit the old floorboards to form a hazy wave that pushed inextricably out into the hallway.

  As the others crept past him to peer inside, Max leaned the chunk of wall against another wall.

  Kylie’s heart raced. The world closed in. She melted back as everybody pressed forward. This whole night had been a current sweeping here to this moment when everybody realized what a bunch of nutcases her entire family line had been.

  Big fuzzy hands settled on her shoulders.

  She looked up at him. Then she chanced looking ahead.

  The space within hunched under the weight of an insane past. Shelves bowed under jars of briny liquid, strange shapes suspended within. Scribbled maps, drawings of skittering creatures, and blurry photos hung tacked to the walls, strung together with pale string and a heavy mist of spiderwebs.

  “Whoa.” Sarah blinked, ears up.

  “Cool!” Karl balled up his fists in joy.

  “Huh.” Shane stretched to see over the brown bat.

  “Told you.” Rune unfolded a wing into the dusty space, scything through countless cobwebs to tink a tiny claw on the glass. “Thickest windows ever.”

  On the porch, Kylie and Max waved their guests off. Wind hissed through unseen leaves. Bugs chirped in the woods. The red glow of taillights flickered between the tree trunks, vanishing in the direction of town.

  The husky rolled back and forth on his feet, making the deck boards creak. Just as she started to wonder if he was trying to wear out the porch, he sighed. “So.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “So?”

  “So…” His muscled arms extended in front of him in a restless stretch. “Remember how you were the social one in this relationship?”

  She propped her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He leaned on the railing and looked out over the moonlit forest. “Back in Hollywood, you were always charming people, chatting them up, even though we were just the kids on the cast.”

  Watching him, the otter nodded. “Okay.”

  “But here…” He waved a thick paw between the manor and the town. “…you’re suspicious of everybody.”

  A sharp laugh escaped her throat. “Because I was cool and a little bit famous there! Here, I’m a feature in the roadside freak show.” She leaned beside him on the railing and put on her best carnival barker voice. “Come pay a nickel and see the craziest family of otters on the Eastern Seaboard, just north of the demonic barbecue smoker and the cafe built at a 20 degree angle.”

  He sniffed, amused. “Well, yeah. People are going to whisper stupid rumors if you never let anybody in.”

  Riding a swell of pettiness, she stuck out her tongue. “I don’t like weirdos poking through my weird family’s weird junk.”

  He smiled at her, then tilted his head back at the house. “Rudderbutt, I have cleared out and sorted so much weird junk in this house.”

  “You don’t count.” She wiggled a little closer and rubbed her tail on the back of his thigh. “I trust you.”

  Wagging, he leaned in and kissed the side of her head. Then, arms resting once more on the railing, he spread his hands toward the night sky. “You can trust other people too.”

  “But they’re showing up for the weird junk!” She jabbed a webbed finger at the road their friends had departed on.

  The dog’s eyes narrowed with patient amusement. “I’m talking about letting people into your life, not just your big spooky house.”

  “I know…” A drawn-out groan trailed out of, leaving her slumped atop the “But if I let them in, they’ll see all the junk I haven’t sorted out. What if it’s scary or makes them see me differently?”

  He nodded. “That can happen. But everybody has junk they’re dealing with.”

  “I guess.” She flicked away a moth that landed on her arm.

  “What do you think they thought of you and all your weird junk?”

  “Rune was cool about it. Sarah was nice, but she’s always nice. Shane was a pain in the tail, but we already knew that. Karl’s, well, Karl.”

  “Yeah. It’s good press for the blog at least. Gives the fans something to chew on.”

  “You sound like Mom.”

  “Your mom knows what she’s talking about.” He rubbed his paw pads together, the faint moisture from the rain reflecting the deck light. “Though she could stand more social contact too.”

  “Definitely. She’s going a little stir-crazy, and not just from ignoring that aliens exist.” She rolled her eyes, then drifted into quiet thought for a couple seconds. “Guess it’s easier to see when other people aren’t sorting out their weird junk.”

  The dog nodded.

  She hugged his arm and nuzzled his shirt sleeve. “You’re pretty smart for a big oaf, Maxie.”

  He rested his chin atop her head, whiskers brushing along her ears. “Trying not to get typecast.”

  Squeezing her boyfriend close, Kylie peered out into the dark landscape of Bourn Holt. The outbuildings stood as wild frontiers of unsorted junk. Behind her, the house loomed like the past. But, with a fluffy boyfriend to hold, a cool mom somewhere upstairs, and friends just as weird as herself down in town, it felt a little more like home.

  An Otter-Body Experience

  1

  Alone with her in the laundry room, Max was blowing his girlfriend’s mind.

  “Maxie, you’re magical!” She chittered, wiggling in place at his impressive performance. “How are you even doing that? I didn’t even think that was possible.”

  Her mother poked her head in the door of the laundry room, where it branched off from the kitchen, a piece of toast in hand. “What are you two doing in here?”

  “He’s folding a fitted sheet.” The younger otter flailed gestures at him, her pretty sundress dancing in waves like a breezy meadow. “We have to keep him.”

  Laura rolled her eyes and headed out into the living room.

  Seated on the floor, he placed another folded bedsheet into the laundry basket.

  The laundry room was T-shaped, branching off the kitchen. A washer, dryer, and sink lined its far wall. A small counter and some shelves filled the rest of the small space. Nestled at the center of what they’d reclaimed of Bourn Manor, it didn’t have any windows and so electric lights hummed faintly, just loud en
ough to register with canine ears.

  With large, careful paws, he continued folding linens. “I’m home all day, you know. I’d put in your laundry.” He checked that his girlfriend’s mom wasn’t stopping by at that moment. His voice dropped to a whisper: “I help make it dirty.”

  Her front half inside the dryer, the otter snickered as she gathered the last clothes from inside it. “Nah, that’d be weird.”

  The husky tilted his head. “Why is it weird?” He sat cross-legged, his knee against the metal of the washing machine. The sleek modern appliances shone in brushed steel contrast to the outdated decor of the dim laundry room, lit by a single clear lightbulb, it’s ancient filament glowing. Between it and the dryer, the room felt noticeably warm under his thick husky fur.

  “Let me have my secrets, Maxie.” Kylie stood. Her lutrine body, clad in that thin green-and-yellow sundress, contorted into a sultry double-curve, hand on one hip. Her other hand dumped clothes into the basket to be folded.

  The ionized smell of static electricity crackled in the air, backed by the rich scents of laundry soap and hot fabric. The dog’s nose sifted through them, finding the more subtle scent of his girlfriend too. “You have much better secrets than ‘my clothes get dirty when I wear them.’” He continued matching socks, which was made both easier and harder by her wild variety of sock. “You’re my girlfriend. It’s not like I’ve never seen your dirty clothes.”

  “I don’t know… I guess I want to stay mysterious and seductive to you.” She sighed as she bent to pluck a stray pair of panties off the floor. Her sundress twirled. “Not all gross and boring.”

  He patted her shoulder. “Except I love you. That’s not gross and boring.”

  “You big sap.” Her clawed fingertips traced his hand. “Love you too.”

  His tail swished on the tile floor. “So you’re okay with me doing your laundry then?”

  Making a noise like a creaky door, she delicately punched clothes into an overfull hamper until they stopped spilling out, then stopped in thought. “Ask me in a couple years.”

  A woof of laughter left his throat. “Oh, so we’ll still be dating?”