Perspective Flip Page 5

  "Awfully considerate curse," said Andrea. "So, Zeke, have you had this happen all your life?"

  "I was a late bloomer, you might say." His ears flicked bashfully back. "It was awfully confusing. Never expected 'the talk' to include all this."

  "You two hid this from Zeke for that long?"

  Ma said, "It's how Pa's parents handled teaching him about the family tradition. It'll be up to you to decide when to tell your kids, though."

  Andrea looked forward to having that problem.

  They went outside once it got dark. Andrea's fur fluffed up along her back as she padded bare-pawed along the dirt. Her vision had changed a little, making the night seem brighter than the moon (only a crescent) would justify. Pa opened the barn and flicked a few electric light switches on the rustic wooden wall.

  Andrea stared into the room. She'd seen the place once before and found it jarring, mostly because of her own assumptions. Besides the obvious farm stuff like tractor parts and tools, the Eisens used the barn to hold an office area with a couple of cell phones and a computer charged by solar panels on the roof. It all looked huge from down here on her paws.

  Andrea said, "I guess I know now why you arrange furniture the way you do." The desk had a beanbag chair next to it. The whole house had things placed a little oddly, with more room in the kitchen than had seemed necessary, and with doors that could be pushed open without knobs. They'd made room for wolves.

  Zeke's family practiced hopping and climbing around on some footstools and a mechanical treadmill. Andrea got drawn into their exercises; the four-footed workout was kind of fun. Then Ma pulled a tarp off of a piece of equipment Andrea had never noticed.

  Andrea blinked at it. "A Guerrilla Dance arcade machine?" Once it was powered up from the barn's battery, the game came to life and showed arrows streaming along the screen. A metal platform with matching arrows invited players to come and dance along.

  Zeke bumped his hind hips against hers, making her stagger and blush. He said, "My idea. We don't let these machines get in the way of a peaceful life, but we're allowed to have some fun, too. Good exercise on winter nights while we're stuck this way."

  Andrea laughed. She'd seen him play this game on a date, years ago. "Are you as bad at it with four feet as with two?"

  "Better!"

  She tried stomping the platform in time with a few songs. Good practice for figuring out how having four legs worked. Zeke's parents even took over for a round. Andrea flopped onto the beanbag chair to watch, draping her forelegs over it, and panted with exertion. Now that she had a little more coordination from practicing, it was pleasant being able to stretch way out from ears to tail.

  "Battery's getting low," said Pa, looking up at a gauge. "Would you be more comfortable here with the electric lights, Andrea?"

  "I'm all right with going back to the house."

  Pa shut off the game machine. The barn fell quiet but for some wind outside, reminding Andrea of the hum of heaters and lights that she was so used to. "We were hybrids already, before this change, weren't we?" she said to Zeke. The two of them lived in a modern townhouse, working on making Zeke a modern lawyer, to help keep farms like his family's safe from politicians and other con-men.

  "You noticed, huh?" said Zeke, ruffling her ears. She caught herself making a deep rumbling noise down in her lower body, a sort of happy growl. Zeke said, "Would you mind grabbing that basket of wolfy blankets from the house, hon? The one Ma got your skirt from, I mean. I meant to carry it over here but got distracted by a handsome new tail."

  Andrea grinned and swatted Zeke with her tail. "You're going to have to teach me how to do everything. Oh, wow. Does this mean Pa Eisen is your mother?"

  "No, no." He busied himself with his paws and mouth, to help his parents pack away the gear they'd been playing with. "I've been... wanting to show you how much I love you, and what you can do with that new body."

  Andrea blushed, suddenly getting a vivid mental image of what it'd be like snuggling behind her husband, reaching up along his back, under his tail... As scary as the thought was, the fact that it would be Zeke sharing that experience with her made it a little exciting. Her tail wagged. She nosed at him and whispered, "I'll take you up on that. Let me grab those clothes first."

  Andrea awkwardly batted the barn's door open and stepped outside, feeling her fur prickle in the cold wind. Snow whirled through the air, making the world seem black and white. She felt the breeze pushing against her long flanks and tickling through her coat. The line of tarps from earlier that evening fluttered, and one had fallen. She grabbed it and tried unsuccessfully to fling it back over the pole where it belonged.

  While she was doing that, headlights blinded her.

  Andrea winced and turned away. Her tail flicked higher in alarm. Someone shouted. She dashed back toward the barn and rapped on the door, glancing back over one shoulder. "Psst."

  Zeke greeted her at the door and saw her waving tail. "What's wrong?"

  "Somebody saw me!"

  He pulled her inside and let her explain. Everyone's shoulder fur bristled. "The Hochmanns!" said Zeke. "What do we do?"

  Ma said, "They couldn't have gotten a good look from a few seconds of headlights in the dark."

  Pa told Andrea, "It's not the first time one of them's thought they saw something strange around here. They went out to our house to ask about it last time. They'll know we've got guests from your car out front, so if nobody's at home they'll check here in the barn."

  Zeke rested his head on Andrea's shoulder in a sort of hug. "We need to hide."

  "No, son," said Pa. "Andrea's got to meet them." He turned to her. "Time to learn how to change. You need to picture yourself folding up, compacting, back into how you used to look. Meet them at the house door and tell them you haven't seen anything."

  Zeke said, "Why her? I'll do it."

  "Can you turn back yet? I don't think so. She's new at this and the 'curse' hasn't quite settled on her, so I think she'll be able to manage turning back for a little while."

  Andrea tried it. She shut her eyes and concentrated on her strange horizontal spine, on her tail and paws. There was resistance from a direction she couldn't understand, as though she were a coiled spring. Still she worked at imagining her old human self. Her fur faded away and she opened her eyes to see her hands hairless and clawless at the end of bare arms. She was freezing! She suppressed a yelp and snatched the tarp off the game machine to cover herself, then stumbled.

  Zeke propped her up, stopping her from a bad fall. "You've got it. Take a few steps and try to concentrate."

  Ma held out a spare shawl in her mouth, which Andrea took gratefully. "Quickly, get your clothes back and answer the door."

  Andrea staggered but quickly recalled how to walk on two legs. Her wolfy ones had been shorter and her balance was completely different. "Back to the house, then."

  She covered herself as well as she was able and hurried back through the cold, wary of any more watchers. She reached the Eisens' house and signed in relief. Already she felt that springy resistance building up, though, making her shudder and have to focus on not changing again. Her body felt like it needed to bounce back to that wolf form again, and soon. But within a minute of her reaching the living room, there was a knock outside. Andrea struggled into a pair of sweatpants and a pajama top, then opened the front door.

  A bearded man in a scarf and mittens peered at her. "Haven't seen you around here, miss."

  "I'm Andrea. Andrea Eisen, as of a few months back." She offered her hand.

  The man didn't shake it. "There's something odd going on around here, miss. Are you sure you know what you've gotten into?"

  She laughed. "I'd say so. Can I help you, mister... Hochmann, right?"

  "Saw something running around. Stray dog, maybe?"

  "We don't keep dogs here."

  "I know. Been here a lot longer than you. Long enough to know my neighbors, except somehow I don't. May I come in?"

  And
rea's legs twitched again, and she had to force back the sensation of fur and a tail growing in. "I'm afraid I can't invite you tonight, but maybe tomorrow —"

  "Why's that? Where is everyone?"

  "They're sick tonight. I think I'm coming down with what they've got, too, so I'm tending them as well as I can. Thanks for dropping by, though. Hope you find your lost pet or whatever it is." She shut the door.

  Moments later she yelped, unable to hold the curse back any longer. Her hips wobbled and pushed her forward so that she flopped down onto all fours. Her tail grew back in suddenly and banged against a coatrack, knocking it over.

  Hochmann was close enough to the door to hear. "Something wrong?" he called out.

  Andrea glanced at the windows and made sure they were covered. She tried to speak in a higher tone than felt natural for this body, more like her usual human voice. "I'm fine, thanks. Banged into something." Under her breath she muttered, "Now go away."

  She reached back and brushed her tail to calm herself. She carefully backed away from the door and waited. Her ears perked up. She couldn't hear the man out there anymore. Now what, though? She couldn't force the change to recede again; it wasn't working. If she stepped outside she might be spotted in more detail, even photographed. Andrea's tail hid behind her legs as she imagined she'd be the one to ruin the family's secret. It'd be nice to let people know, and not have to hide, but that wasn't her decision to make.

  Andrea paced on four feet, then peeked out the back door towards the barn. Their privacy curtain was still mostly intact, but the nosy Hochmann might be lurking somewhere nearby just to see what was going on. Zeke and her parents-in-law waited across the way, hiding, as unable to shift back to human as she was. She could stay apart from them all night, cowering alone and hoping nobody ever checked in on her... more or less for the rest of her life. They were waiting for her to go back to them and get on with living.

  She grabbed a few blankets from the basket she'd meant to fetch, then slung them over her back. Andrea Eisen went to her family to wait out the danger and relax with warm fur and tails to hug. Nobody bothered her for now.

  She nuzzled Zeke, who growled pleasantly at the touch. She asked, "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? For that matter, if the curse is triggered by" — she glanced toward Zeke's parents-in-law — "marriage, why didn't I change sooner?"

  "It always starts around Christmas," Zeke said. "I hope you like your present." His cute fluffy tail wagged.

  She had a new family with a secret they'd finally shared, an introduction to a world of magic, a warm home, and a husband eager to share some very unexpected fun with her from a new perspective. "I do," she said, deciding to make the best of everything.

  Vixen Visitor

  * 1. Audition *

  You wake up sprawled on a hilltop. Grass tickles your nose, smelling vivid green. You snuggle with the fuzzy blanket beside you, sleepily thinking about that crazy dream last night. There was a glowing door, taking you suddenly from being an ordinary guy on Earth into a wizard's trap. A tangle of stairways in space that led only to costumes. Animal costumes, mostly, and there was a sign saying you had to pick one...

  Morning light gets in your eyes and something twitches behind you. Your eyes follow the rusty-red fuzzy thing, up to where it connects to your spine, and you yelp at the feel of your hand on your new tail. Your hands are white-furred, clawed and slender, and as you look yourself over you remember that in the dream, you picked a fox costume. Also, you realize why it looked strangely padded around the hips and chest. Beneath the simple blouse and skirt you're wearing that you've never seen before, you're a shapely vixen.

  Your heart thumps and you sit again on the grass, trying to catch your breath. Pinching your arm just hurts. Your tail twitches and the morning smells like clouds and flowers and other things overloading the black nose sticking out between your eyes. You whimper, trying to make sense of it all.

  In the distance someone is walking up a hill. He spots you, then calls out, "A visitor?" in a language you've never heard yet suddenly understand. It's another fox-person, on two legs and wearing a backpack.

  "Help!" you say. Your voice is soft and an octave too high. It makes you feel sick. Yes, okay, you like animals, but suddenly being one — and female at that — is too much of a shock.

  The fox-man gets closer, then stops and stares at you. "Lenara."

  "What?"

  "It's nothing," he says too quickly. He's taller than you, with reddish fur that makes you think of autumn leaves, and dressed in shorts and a vest. "I won't hurt you. I saw a light and knew our world had another visitor. The important thing is to calm you down and — it's your first round, I bet. Did you check your pockets?"

  As confused as you are, it's good to have a guide and a distraction from being so thoroughly lost. With your unfamiliar hands you fumble for the pockets on your skirt, and snag one of your claws on the fabric. After untangling yourself you find a folded note. The fox-man watches you frowning at the unfamiliar script. It means nothing to you at first, like the spoken language, but then the knowledge of it snaps into place. The text is written right-to-left in long angular marks, saying:

  "Welcome to my game! In short, you're stuck here for three local weeks, and then you can hop to another world. From there you'll get to explore other worlds, gaining magic of your own. You'll be supplied with a local identity and a house (burrow, nest, etc.) appropriate for this species and world. Enjoy your life here, or just survive long enough to leave and become a wandering shapeshifter. Have fun!"

  The fox watches your bewildered expression. "My name is Bragho. I saw you arrive because I'm from elsewhere, myself, and I sensed someone was going to arrive. Don't go blabbing it, okay?" A wide grin splits his muzzle and he offers his black fuzzy hand to help you up. You take it and shudder, feeling little claws against your leathery palm.

  "Why? Who did this to me?" you say.

  "The Wizard of the Wardrobe." Bragho directs you to look at the other side of the note. The fine print there describes the wonderful powers you can get for racking up visits to other worlds and species. Maybe this wizard is watching you even now as though you're some sort of celestial game show contestant. Bragho says, "I don't know much more, but he's a thorough bastard. And thinks he's generous. Are you hurt, hungry or anything? I brought supplies."

  You shake your head. "Just confused." It's best to tell him. "I was human, and male."

  "Human? You mean the furless bipeds? Hey, I've been one of those! Not too different from this species. It's mostly a world of barbarian tribes and one massive empire, right? When I left, they were doing these huge sea expeditions under a guy called Zheng He."

  Your brow furrows as you try to match that up with history. Maybe there are multiple Earth timelines. Then you remember: "That sounds like China, but that was centuries ago!"

  His outbreak of a smile fades again as he looks you over. "I'm sorry. You get used to the changes after a few costumes, and lose track of the years. While you're here, you can be useful; you have a job to keep you busy."

  Now he has you curious. "What kind of jobs do foxes do?" You look downhill and realize there's a whole town spread out below, with quiet paved roads between buildings of brick and stone. No skyscrapers, no airplanes. What's this world you've gotten stuck in?

  Bragho says, "It's hard to explain. We have more advanced machines than I saw in your world. You're filling in for what we call a 'movie star'."

  For the first time in this world, you laugh.

  * * *

  You open the door of a movie studio hangar, with your guide Bragho beside you. Suddenly you're in a Western town where Napoleon is whapping someone with a director's megaphone. Well, not a French dictator, but a fox with way too many buttons on his vest and too many decibels for his size. The poor stagehand he's berating says, "Boss, wait! She's here!"

  The director whirls and peers up at you. "Lenara? It's about time you... Wait. What's wrong?"

  Bragh
o steps in. "Lenara is a visitor." He nods meaningfully and the director shudders. You start to explain what's happened to you, but the director recovers and makes up his mind. "Close enough!" He snaps his clawed fingers at his assistants, adding, "Script, costume — attack!"

  Five bewildering minutes later, you're wearing some kind of black motion-capture suit and another fox is coaching you on how to drawl a line about paintin' a wagon a'fore the cattle get here. Then you get dragged out to the fake street where a bunch of foxes are rehearsing an argument. But they're almost all in Western costumes. No, not 19th-century American stuff, since the fashions are different, but it's rugged and familiar just the same. "Hey," you say, thinking of your own outfit. "Am I in the wrong show?"

  "Places!" the director bellows, and everyone scatters. A fox-man in a techno-suit like yours grins at you and takes your hand, saying, "Over there, ma'am." He's got this knowing grin like he's been in a hundred movies — or he knows all about this costume game you've gotten into. And somehow you just know he's playing a cowboy, even without the getup.

  You run through a scene from a story you don't know. The foxes argue about the wagon, and then the other suited fox breaks it up. Then you hear "Cut!" and it's over in one take. You were just getting into the role, wondering whether somebody was going to get shot or what.

  "Not bad, ma'am," says the other suited fox to you. The "ma'am"s still distract you, but he makes them sound good. "The name's Wylan, by the way."

  "You do movies with motion capture?" you say.

  "Sure! Whoever wants to play a lead role can watch it from your view or mine, or put somebody else's picture there while they watch it from the couch. Don't care for it myself, but it's the big thing in Fen country."

  Wylan looks you over, making you conscious of the tight suit and the way your tail curls inside it. "You're a costumer? A visitor?"