A Talespin fanfic by Lizzy Spencer (KarmaCat) Page 6

        A week later, Orly rolled up the sleeves on her white painting shirt and went to the corner of a perfectly white room, where there was, guarded by a sheet of plastic, a phonograph. She placed a record in it and music started to play.
        "What is that?" asked Gabriel, her best friend. They had been best friends since freshman year of high school. He was a tiger, but soft and effeminate. He was tall and reedy, almost gangly. His face was thin and his eyes were a bright butter yellow. Orly loved him to death. She protected him at school.
        "It's called 'plastic'. Some of the scientists down in the labs are working on it. Don't think it'll go anywhere, but it's pretty neat stuff. Doesn't block the sound as much as glass does. You got your tennis racket?
        "Do," he replied. tossing it in the air and catching it again.
        The two were in a large, perfectly square room covered in canvas. Around them were buckets of paint and tennis balls.
        "This," Orly said, "is so fun."
        She picked up and tennis ball and dipped it in red paint.
        "I can't believe we're doing this," Gabriel said.
        "One of the perks of having Shere Kahn as a daddy. Any vacant rooms in the building, heh heh, MINE."
        She tossed the soaking ball into the air, yelled, "Serving!" and smacked the ball into the wall with a deathblow. It left a huge blotch of red paint, and then careened against the opposite wall, barely skimming Orly's head. She laughed and looked to Gabriel, who seemed a little hesitant.
        "C'mon! There are people who would pay to do this!" She tossed him a clean tennis ball.
        He took hold of the ball, dipped in in blue paint, tossed it into the air, and struck it lightly with the racket. It made a little splotch on the wall and rolled across the floor.
        "Oh Gabe, you're such a girl!"
        'Hey!" he exclaimed, putting his hand on his hip like a diva.
        Orly smacked a green ball into the wall and it careened, almost hitting Gabriel's chest. "Gotta admit, you're more of a woman than I'll ever be."
        "And more of a man than you'll ever get!"
        "Whatever, Gabe. Hit the darned ball, would you?"
        "Hmmph." He dipped the ball back into the blue paint and smacked it. It careened off the opposite wall and then hit the floor.
        "Ooooooh, manly."
        "Shush up, girlie."
        "You shush. Now come on. This isn't fun unless you get going really fast." She dipped a ball in yellow paint and prepared to serve. "Before you know it, we'll have modern art. Or post - modern. Whatever. I didn't pay attention in art history." She slammed the ball into the wall.
        "Who did?" Gabriel asked incredulously. He was getting the hang of it as he paddled a green ball against the wall, making a series of green splotches.
        "You know what I don't understand?" She served, and the ball made a loud th-th-waaaaack. "How something can be post - modern. I mean, modern is now, right? So if something is post - modern, well, wouldn't that mean futuristic? So why even have the term post - modern? It's just stupid. It doesn't mean anything.'
        "It means something to art people."
        "Gabe, EVERYTHING means something to art people."
        By now, their conversation was littered with the sounds of thwacking and their clothes were covered in paint. For a while they simply hit the balls in silence, each thinking their own thoughts.
        "Orly, I bet you're the only kid in town who gets to do stuff like this," Gabriel said.
        They didn't even hear the door open behind them, and then slam shut quickly, because whoever was behind it was trying to shield himself from airborne paint - covered balls.
        "Whoa! What are you guys doing in here?" came a voice from outside.
        "Stop a sec, Orly."
        "Huh?" She slammed a ball.
        Gabriel took hold of Orly's wrist. "It's safe," he said.
        A young black panther crept cautiously through the door and took a look at the paint - splattered surroundings. "Playing tennis again, Orly?"
        "Yeah, James. So what?" Orly knew him. Orly knew most everyone who worked in the building. Unlike her sister, she enjoyed "mingling with the peasants", as it were.
        "Nothing, kiddo."
        She blew a strand of errant fur out of her face. "I really hate it when you call me kiddo."
        "I like it when he calls you kiddo," Gabriel said.
        Orly rolled her eyes at both of them. 'Well, I hate it."
        "Fine, woman. Listen, I gotta run, but would you do something for me?"
        She gave him a cross look. "If it has anything to do with getting you a promotion, getting your father a promotion, or anything else you should probably go to my father about, no. If it has to do with money, and that money being for me, and/or an all - expense paid trip to the Jungle Islands with Thelonious Monkey and without my sister, talk to me."
        James raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Where did all that come from?"
        "The deep, dark recesses of her brain, " Gabriel said hauntingly. "A place few ever visit, or want to! Wha-ha-ha-ha!"
        Orly gave Gabriel a light smack in the chest.
        "Um, okay," James replied. "Orly, could you please just give this to your sister?" He handed her an envelope.
        "None of the above," she considered, "but sure, I guess."
        "Thanks, kiddo. Gotta run!" He closed the door.
        Gabriel giggled, covered in paint. "Isn't he cute?"

 

        Sarabi sat at the kitchen table with her father on Wednesday, looking over stocks once again. But this time, she was playing with real money. And she was making a lot of it. Shere now had her telling him which stocks to invest in.
        "No no no, father, that's all wrong, " she said. "Completely wrong. Advernel Inc. will never be as much as it's hyped up to be. Nothing ever is. That's why everyone invests in Khan stocks, because we give people exacatly what they expect. This company will never go under and they know it. It's just too bad that we can't buy our own stock."
        "Well, we could, but it would be a bit useless." He ran his claw through a stripe of gray fur that was working it's way to the nape of his neck. "Look at this, Sarabi. My hair is becoming more like yours every day."
        "You age gracefully, father," she replied, not removing her eyes from the stocks.
        Shere studied her for a moment. It was, for some reason, strange to hear that from his daughter. He always sensed an undercurrent with her, an undercurrent, like a constant buzzing within her....perhaps having to do with those ancient legends? Posh. But he didn't know how else to explain it. In fact, he didn't even know what context to put it in. But there she was, always buzzing, and Orly, who was always ringing.
        Those two girls had become his life.
        And as he watched his firstborn daughter, so brave and tall, as he saw her become more and more of a woman every day, he didn't regret it for an instant.
 
 

        Orly and Gabriel ran through the apartment laughing, still covered in paint, and they were accosted by Orly's father.
        "What, may I ask, have you two been doing?" he asked.
        Gabriel swallowed and stood up straight. For some reason, he always did that in Mr. Khan's presence. Mr. Khan made him deathly nervous.
        "Playing tennis, papa," Orly said offhandedly, flipping her racket in her hand.
        "It looks more as if there was an unfortunate animal vs. dynamite incident somewhere in your proximity," he replied with a completely straight face. Orly burst out laughing. She loved her father's deadpan approach to jokes. Gabriel just stood at attention.
        "That's what we have showers for," Orly said.
        Shere eyed Gabriel suspiciously. "Separate showers, I presume."
        Gabriel and Orly looked at each other and broke out laughing, and started to go down the hall. "Yeah, papa," Orly said. 'That'll happen"
        "Oh, can you IMAGINE!" Gabriel exclaimed.
        "No thanks, Gabe, I don't want to!" she gasped breathlessly. "C'mon, we have to go give this to Sara."
        Shere shook his head, sighed, and went on his way.