By the time Christine left the house, Vicki was long gone.  She walked up the street to Vicki’s house, but once again found her not there.  Yet her car remained parked in front of the house. 

     Christine tried to think where Vicki might have gone.  Somewhere that she could be alone.  Somewhere that was either close by or somewhere that couldn’t be reached by car.  Someplace that would offer her a sense of security. 

     It didn’t take Christine long to deduce that Vicki had probably gone back to the clubhouse.  But following her there in the dark would be a problem.  Would she be able to see in the dark with her new fox eyes?  Perhaps somewhat, but she would not know the terrain as well as Vicki. 

     Suddenly the sound of a familiar song caught Christine’s ear and distracted her from her immediate problem - the song of a male idol singer whose voice she hadn’t heard for years.  It was drifting on the air, softly from above. 

     Christine stepped back away from the porch and looked up to see the lights on in the upper apartment and the open window through which the music was drifting softly. 

     It occurred to Christine that she would personally be embarrassed to death to be caught listening to such music.  But on the other hand, it did fit the concept of Suburbia.  This wasn’t the kind of town where she’d expect to hear Black Saturn booming out of a window at this time of night. 

     Half out of curiosity and half out of necessity Christine walked up the steps at the side of the house that led up to Kacey’s apartment.  Then she rapped gently on the door. 

     After a moment, Kacey opened the door a little and peeked out shyly.  Then she opened the door the rest of the way once she recognized Christine. 

     “This is a very irregular time for a visit,” said Kacey, hesitantly. 

     “I’m sorry to bother you,” said Christine, trying to be humble and not seem too outgoing.  “But it’s kind of an emergency.  I have to take a long hike through the woods.  I was hoping you could lend me a flashlight."

     “A long hike through the woods at this hour?" asked Kacey, seeming quite disturbed.  “Why would you need to do such a thing?"

     “Because I think Vicki went there,” said Christine.  “And I’ve got to find her.  You see, she had some bad news, and she didn’t take it very well."

     “Bad news for Vicki could be bad news for me,” said Kacey, as she invited Christine inside.  “Does it have to do with Perry?"

     “I’m not supposed to talk about it,” said Christine, reluctantly.  “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.  Please don’t ask."

     “I’ll see if I can find a flashlight,” said Kacey, obviously in no hurry to confirm her suspicions.  If what she suspected was true she had no special place in the woods to run to.  She would simply melt into a pool of tears in front of whoever brought her the bad news.

     Kacey went into her bedroom, and as Christine moved to follow her Kacey popped her head back out and said, “Don’t follow me unless you promise not to laugh."

     “I promise,” said Christine with uncertainty.

     Christine could tell from the living room that Kacey was not a very tidy squirrel.  But then why should she be?  She didn’t seem to be the type who liked entertaining company.  So Christine imagined that her bedroom was probably a total mess.  But once she had gone inside, Christine saw that Kacey had another reason to be embarrassed about her bedroom.

     “Oh .  .  .  my .  .  ." said Christine in wonder as she looked about her.

     Every bit of wall space, and a good bit of the ceiling as well, was covered with pictures of males in various yiffy poses.  And around the bed where Kacey slept were the “yiffiest” ones – magazine centerfolds of males who were dressed up for social events or in the attire of their professions.  Christine had never realized just how turned on the females of Suburbia were by the sight of males in clothes. 

     But what especially caught Christine’s attention were the many pictures of pure human movie stars and rock singers that were displayed.  There was even a huge poster of the idol singer whose voice could still be heard from Kacey’s stereo. 

     “I see you like Andy Cassidy,” Christine remarked, seeming quite bemused. 

     “Wasn’t he just the dreamiest?" said Kacey, adoringly, as she searched through a box under her bed for a flashlight. 

     “Uh, I’m afraid I was never the idol singer type,” Christine confessed.  “We were popular at the same time.  But I sang for a more serious rock crowd.  So I was expected to disapprove of him.  I did like his songs, though, in spite of that."

     “He had just the yiffiest voice,” said Kacey, as she handed Christine the flashlight.  “Sometimes, when I’m really ill, I’ll play his songs, and they’ll help me relax so I can rest."

     “Are you ill now?” asked Christine, seeming concerned.

     “I’m uncomfortable and restless,” said Kacey.  “But it’s not serious this time.  A nice fantasy will get me through."

     “A fantasy about yiffing with Andy Cassidy?" asked Christine.

     “That’s a very personal question,” said Kacey, seeming embarrassed.  “I don’t even tell Perry about my fantasies."

     “Of course not,” said Christine.  “He’s a guy.  You wouldn’t expect a guy to understand a girl’s fantasies.  But I’m a girl.  So I’ll understand."

     “My fantasies aren’t normal,” Kacey confessed.  “Most girls have more practical fantasies about guys they know or have a chance of meeting.  I dream about guys of a whole other species who have been dead for thousands of years."

     “I wonder how you would feel if you could visit the world I left behind,” said Christine, reflectively. 

     “I’d probably feel worse than I do now,” said Kacey.  “I’d be surrounded by yiffy pure human guys in clothes, but I’d still have no yiff life.  I’d still end up alone with my dreams."

     “Hey, Kacey, let’s sit down on the bed for a minute,” said Christine. 

     “Aren’t you in a hurry to find Vicki?" asked Kacey. 

     “I am,” said Christine.  “But this won’t take long.  I have a gift I want to give you – a memory I want to share while it’s fresh in my mind."

     Curiously, Kacey made herself comfortable on the bed while Christine sat down beside her. 

     “Now close your eyes and open your mind,” said Christine, with gentle affection. 

     As Kacey released herself to Christine’s projection, she saw Christine’s perspective in a recording studio. 

     “This is my brother’s recording studio at our home,” said Christine.  “I’m there to sing back-up on an album he’s producing for an idol singer whose popularity is suddenly in decline.  Can you see him?  Do you know who he is?"

     “Oh my gosh!” Kacey exclaimed.  “That’s Garret Cassidy!  Garret Cassidy alive!  I’m gonna die!”

     “Don’t die yet,” said Christine, knowingly.  “The best is yet to come."

     As Kacey watched, two other pure human males entered the recording studio, and without thinking, Kacey grabbed Christine’s arms and squeezed them tightly as she recognized the new arrivals. 

     “No, it can’t be,” said Kacey, breathlessly.  “You met Andy Cassidy.  He’s right there, as real as life."

     “Actually he was a pretty nice guy, when things were going okay for him, that is,” said Christine. 

     “And the one beside him is Tommy James!” Kacey exclaimed with delight.  “I love Tommy James!  Oh, the fantasies I’ve had about him."

     “Uh, that’s my twin brother you’re talking about,” said Christine, somewhat embarrassed. 

     “Tommy James was your brother?" asked Kacey, breaking off the vision in her shock.

     “In another life, in another time,” said Christine, sadly.

     “But that means you must be .  .  ." said Kacey, in disbelief.  “Are you Christine James?"

     “I was Christine James,” said Christine, regretfully.

     “Were you reincarnated as a fox?" asked Kacey, seeming totally lost in her wonderment.

     “Not exactly,” said Christine.  “It’s a big long painful story that I don’t have time to explain right now.  But I will someday."

     “Wow,” said Kacey, continuing to hold tight to Christine’s arms.  “You’re a real living rock star from Chikyu."

     “I don’t suppose you have any of my albums,” said Christine.

     “Did you make albums of your own?" asked Kacey.  “I thought you just sang on your brother’s albums."

     “Uh, I had my own career, you know,” said Christine, seeming suddenly nervous.  “I put out nine solo albums.  They weren’t as popular as Tommy’s, but they were still popular.  But I guess they weren’t popular enough to survive the centuries."

     “No, I didn’t know,” said Kacey.  “I’m really sorry, Christine.  I’m sorry for a lot of things.  Mostly I’m sorry I said those mean things to you.  Especially that I said I didn’t want to be your friend."

     “Do you want me to be one of those few people you can stand to be touched by?" asked Christine.  "After all, you have been holding awful tight to me."

     “Oh my,” Kacey gasped, pulling her hands away.  “I didn’t even realize."

     “So, do you think I could try hugging you again?" asked Christine, hopefully. 

     “Let me try hugging you first,” said Kacey.

     Hesitantly, the little squirrel put her arms around Christine and drew up close to her, eventually snuggling her head comfortably on the big mound of fur that had replaced Christine’s human breasts. 

     Christine gently enfolded Kacey in her arms and petted her soothingly. 

     Kacey sighed and responded appreciatively. 

     “I don’t have many friends I can get this close to,” said Kacey.  “Someone has to really want to be my friend.  It’s such a bother trying to win my confidence."

     “It was no bother at all, Kacey dear,” said Christine, lovingly, feeling like she had finally achieved her childhood ambition of taming a squirrel. 

     “You have such a nice scent,” Kacey observed.  “It’s making me all tranquil.  I think maybe I could go to sleep and rest now."

     “And dream pleasant dreams about Andy Cassidy?" asked Christine, wistfully. 

     “I might even dream about your brother, if you don’t mind,” said Kacey, seeming halfway in dreamland already. 

     “Of course I don’t mind,” said Christine, as she helped Kacey lie down and get comfortable.  “He’d be so flattered to know that he’s still so loved even after all these centuries."

     “It’s so rude of me not to see you out,” said Kacey, as if finding it hard to keep her mind in the real world any longer. 

     “It’s alright,” said Christine, reassuringly.  “Just close your eyes and dream of a world where you are always happy, and where there’s always some beautiful guy waiting to love you."

     With a final contented sigh, Kacey drifted off to sleep. 

     Christine picked up the flashlight.  Then she stole silently away on her quiet fox feet.  But before leaving the apartment, she paused to listen a little longer to the voice of that long dead idol singer, whom she now heard threw a completely different set of ears.