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“I’m In Your Hometown” by DukeFerret (read by Rob MacWolf)
Riley, a mailman off his route, encounters a foreign squirrel seeking answers in the abandoned ruins of the local swamp. There's something elusive about the legend: a strange feeling that the possum just can't slip.
Today’s story is “I’m In Your Hometown” by DukeFerret, a queer romance and sports fiction writer who uploads short stories and artwork regularly on his furry social media accounts. One may follow his work by the Twitter handle @dookinduke, or the username DukeFerret on FurAffinity and SoFurry.
Today’s story will be read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitch-hiker.
Transcript
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:and Today’s story is
Speaker:“I’m In Your Hometown”
Speaker:by DukeFerret, a queer romance and sports fiction writer
Speaker:who uploads short stories
Speaker:and artwork regularly on his furry social media accounts.
Speaker:One may follow his work by the Twitter handle @dookinduke,
Speaker:or the username DukeFerret
Speaker:on FurAffinity and SoFurry.
Speaker:Today’s story will be read for you by Rob MacWolf —
Speaker:werewolf hitch-hiker.
Speaker:Please enjoy “I’m In Your Hometown”
Speaker:by DukeFerret At first I thought she was a ghost.
Speaker:I saw her in the thick brush:
Speaker:a white blur under the gleam of my car’s headlights before it was gone.
Speaker:I stepped on the brake and pulled over.
Speaker:I grabbed my cap off the dashboard and exited into the sunset swampland.
Speaker:The figure—I saw now as a squirrel
Speaker:—stepped out of the trees several yards away.
Speaker:She held a sketchbook
Speaker:in the wing of her cloak,
Speaker:short fur blending black to grey to orange when she pulled away her hood.
Speaker:She smelled of thyme,
Speaker:like flowers picked from my mom’s old garden.
Speaker:The squirrel sized me up as I approached. The arms of her cloak were sweat stained in the humid air.
Speaker:“Got a letter for me, postie?”
Speaker:Her voice had a whistle to it that I hadn’t quite heard around these parts.
Speaker:I shook my head. “Just making sure you
Speaker:know where you’re going.
Speaker:You shouldn’t be out here after eight, y’know.”
Speaker:She peered at my mail truck.
Speaker:“Why are you here,
Speaker:then?” “Drove to Lahe to cover for an employee. I was taking a shortcut back.”
Speaker:“To where?” I pointed over my shoulder.
Speaker:“Lowell.” “And you’re a possum,”
Speaker:she remarked. “Interesting.”
Speaker:She reached for her pencil to scribble something on her pad.
Speaker:Crickets chirped in the shade of overgrown roadside vegetation.
Speaker:No other vehicles sat on the road.
Speaker:“Do you live here?”
Speaker:I asked. “Same city.”
Speaker:She didn’t make eye contact; she just kept writing.
Speaker:“I took transit this morning.
Speaker:Then I walked out here alone.” “With camping supplies?”
Speaker:No answer from her.
Speaker:“Did you bring water?”
Speaker:“No. I’m just trying to get a closer look.”
Speaker:“At what? The afterlife?”
Speaker:I waited for a laugh or a chuckle, but she just frowned at me.
Speaker:I stuffed my paws in my pockets as she narrowed her eyes.
Speaker:“The deep swamp. I need to take in the lost colony with my own senses.
Speaker:The work of people—largely woodpeckers
Speaker:—who lived here before the weather pushed them to move away or die.
Speaker:die.” Maybe she was a ghost.
Speaker:Did my joke hit too close to home?
Speaker:I shook my head. “You’ll join them if you run into something venomous after dark.”
Speaker:Her rigid frown rose into interest.
Speaker:Maybe the first unconceited look she gave me.
Speaker:“Really?” “My uncle got bit out here once.
Speaker:Only made it back to town on his brother’s back.”
Speaker:She thought that over for a moment and nodded.
Speaker:“Thank you, uh…” She caught a glimpse of my name tag.
Speaker:“Riley. I’ll walk back now.”
Speaker:Dying sunlight filtered through palm branches.
Speaker:I turned around and beckoned her.
Speaker:“I can drive you back.”
Speaker:She raised an eyebrow.
Speaker:“While I watch you make deliveries?”
Speaker:“The route’s over.” I spread my paws.
Speaker:“Half-an-hour beats three, huh?”
Speaker:She followed me back to the mail truck, squinting as I slid open the door for her.
Speaker:“I didn’t know delivery trucks had passenger seats.”
Speaker:I stepped in and sat behind the wheel.
Speaker:“Where don’t they?”
Speaker:“Home.” She clutched her sketchpad to her chest,
Speaker:then shot out a paw between us.
Speaker:“My name’s Luna, by the way.
Speaker:Exchange student from Bernan University.”
Speaker:The truck hummed as I started it up.
Speaker:“A whole continent of coast between here and there.”
Speaker:I looked idly at the GPS stationed between our legs and noticed my path back to the office turned near her school.
Speaker:“That’s what this ‘lost colony’ stuff is for, right?”
Speaker:She nodded, then paused to inspect my windshield trinkets, including my permit and business card.
Speaker:I checked my mirrors and hit the road.
Speaker:“An anthropology project,”
Speaker:she clarified. “Oh. Like, digging up bones?”
Speaker:She chuckled. “I’m not an archaeologist.” I snorted. “Hell if I know; I never went to college.
Speaker:I started here over
Speaker:a decade ago, and I didn’t need a degree to deliver.
Speaker:Or to manage.” With a paw resting on the wheel, I used the other to locate my lemonade.
Speaker:“Why waste my time?”
Speaker:She ignored that remark.
Speaker:“It’s really more than just digging.
Speaker:I’m not into physical work;
Speaker:I’m an artist. And I’m drawing
Speaker:the swamp.” “The whole thing?”
Speaker:Luna crossed her fingers and smiled.
Speaker:“That’s my plan.” I let that sit as I took a drink.
Speaker:“Sweetie, I think you’re gonna need a bigger canvas.”
Speaker:“Oh, I know. That’s why I’m only sketching it.”
Speaker:That answer didn’t make much sense at all.
Speaker:Probably a project organized by some academic dictator with no regard for their students’ sanity.
Speaker:I shook my head and turned back to the road.
Speaker:As we rolled to the edge of the thicket, the sun scorched my eyes between the shadows of palm tree trunks.
Speaker:We put down our sun visors.
Speaker:She still had her head down over her sketchpad, pencil in paw, scribbling a couple pages ahead.
Speaker:From the short wiggling of her fingers, it looked like she was writing something.
Speaker:“Taking notes?” Her scribbling stopped.
Speaker:“No.” Then she flipped back to her previous page, continuing to work long strokes across the page.
Speaker:I turned up the A/C until it jostled the pages and licenses pinned to the dashboard.
Speaker:Below the rearview, the wind shook a hanging picture of my husband.
Speaker:Talkative one minute, one syllable answers the next.
Speaker:I cleared my throat and tried another approach.
Speaker:“What’s your drawing have to do with a lost colony?”
Speaker:She suddenly reflected on that, as if my question flipped a switch in her mind
Speaker:that pulled her away from her art.
Speaker:“Everything. It’s just as much about them as those who took their place.”
Speaker:I snickered. “City kids and their trailer parks?” Luna didn’t laugh.
Speaker:“That’s part of it.
Speaker:The land speaks its own language.”
Speaker:“Profound,” I said. “I’m sure the academy will love it.”
Speaker:She continued as if I hadn’t spoken.
Speaker:“It tells us—if shy of context
Speaker:—fragments of who they were
Speaker:and how that identity shaped their home.
Speaker:What we see now is all the evidence I have.”
Speaker:I grabbed my drink with a free paw and pored over that.
Speaker:“And what does that tell you?”
Speaker:“Nothing. That’s why I’m sketching it.
Speaker:I’m turning to nature for my muse.”
Speaker:“Huh.” I studied her bushy tail as it curled into her lap.
Speaker:“I hope that works out for you.”
Speaker:“Thank you.” A wooden sign pointed towards bordering towns, a marker of the fringe of the swamp.
Speaker:I stepped on the gas as I noticed the tree shadows lengthening.
Speaker:The engine purred with the choir of bugs.
Speaker:Luna cleared her throat.
Speaker:“May I ask why you left town for someone else’s route?”
Speaker:“His wife was due in three days.
Speaker:Some kids just can’t wait to get out of there.”
Speaker:“Oh my.” Graphite swept across her page.
Speaker:“That’s generous of you.”
Speaker:“Well, Mike’s been here a decade. Lydia’s in my squash club.
Speaker:It’s just another hour out of my day.”
Speaker:The A/C blew the smell of her fur
Speaker:through the truck when she stretched
Speaker:and peered back at the empty trunk. “You’re
Speaker:that close with your coworkers?”
Speaker:“We have the same routines, meet the same kinds of people;
Speaker:just part of being a team.”
Speaker:“That makes sense.”
Speaker:After chewing on her eraser, she turned back down to her book.
Speaker:“What about you? Do you have kids?”
Speaker:I shook my head. “Well, I was a surrogate father for a friend who couldn’t conceive with her husband.
Speaker:It’s their job now. Donating was the easy part.”
Speaker:I spun the wheel to turn into the final stretch of the swamp.
Speaker:“But for me? I’d love to adopt someday.”
Speaker:Luna’s tail flicked.
Speaker:“Not have your own?”
Speaker:A bit of a presumptuous question.
Speaker:I laughed and nodded at the picture hanging from the rearview.
Speaker:“I’d have to ask my partner.
Speaker:Something tells me he wouldn’t be able to carry one.”
Speaker:“Oh!” Her eyes widened at the winking portrait of the T. rex.
Speaker:“What’s his name?” “Luiz.”
Speaker:I waved my paw between us and flashed my wedding ring in the sunlight.
Speaker:“Been married ten years.
Speaker:He’s a pretty big filmmaker. You ever seen Fortress Escape?
Speaker:Snout Computer?” “No.”
Speaker:She stared back at me blankly.
Speaker:“Never heard of them.”
Speaker:I shrugged back to the road.
Speaker:“Well, they’re popular here.”
Speaker:Back the pencil went.
Speaker:We sat in silence as we crossed a bridge to leave the swamp proper.
Speaker:The robotic voice of the GPS woke me up as I turned past the stop sign
Speaker:to pull onto Palmside Drive.
Speaker:Sun at our backs, I glanced at Luna.
Speaker:“So...why here?” “Hm?” “You could’ve picked a bigger city.
Speaker:Or even a smaller one.
Speaker:Hell—you’d find a million other lost colonies further inland.”
Speaker:I stroked my whiskers.
Speaker:“You got family here?”
Speaker:“No, I’m living in residence at the university.
Speaker:But for the city…”
Speaker:She brushed through her tail for a moment.
Speaker:“My friend left for a neighbouring city for her thesis.
Speaker:I almost followed,
Speaker:but I thought it wouldn’t be right for me to stay
Speaker:that close to home.”
Speaker:I squinted at an upcoming traffic light.
Speaker:“I’m not sure I follow.
Speaker:follow.” “I wanted to prove to myself that I could live apart from my parents.
Speaker:I picked Lowell because it shares the climate of cities I know, yet,
Speaker:for being hardly two hours from the border...
Speaker:border...your culture’s so different.
Speaker:different.” “Is it?” Luna dropped the sketchpad on her knees, page down.
Speaker:“In every way. Take your stores, for example.
Speaker:There’s no clerk at the door.”
Speaker:She stretched out her feet.
Speaker:“The buses have no leg room.”
Speaker:“That’s not just a cultural thing.” I chuckled and recited a phrase my dad used to tell me as a kid.
Speaker:“That’s called municipal
Speaker:incompetence.” Her warm laugh was pleasant to hear.
Speaker:“My sample size is small.
Speaker:small.” “Is that an issue in your studies?” I perched my elbow on the window.
Speaker:The truck fell silent at the light,
Speaker:apart from the ticking of the turn signal.
Speaker:She spent a moment thinking that question over,
Speaker:as if it meant the world’s importance.
Speaker:“Sometimes I’m afraid I can’t tell the full story;
Speaker:that the evidence isn’t there
Speaker:and my curiosity will never be satisfied.”
Speaker:She tapped her paws together,
Speaker:mimicking the rhythm of the ticker.
Speaker:“What about you?” My gaze drifted from the window
Speaker:to her eyes in the mirror.
Speaker:“What about me?” “You carry around so many letters.
Speaker:Don’t you ever wonder what they say?”
Speaker:I frowned. “That’s never crossed my mind.”
Speaker:“How many love letters have you delivered without a thought in the world?
Speaker:How many acceptance papers?”
Speaker:A smile pried at her lips.
Speaker:“How many sperm donations?”
Speaker:The joke hit me like a truck.
Speaker:Had to set the gear to park to not rear-end the poor fellow in front.
Speaker:“Aha! Hopefully they weren’t on Mike’s route!
Speaker:But, y’know, you don’t
Speaker:think about what’s in the envelopes. You just
Speaker:care about making it on time.” “Right.”
Speaker:Luna shuffled her feet.
Speaker:“Speaking of making it on time,
Speaker:I was wondering if you could do something else for me before we’re at my stop.
Speaker:You see, I haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to many residents,
Speaker:so I’d like to tape myself asking you a couple questions about the swamp.
Speaker:I need some audio tracks for my project,
Speaker:and I’ve been looking for original material.”
Speaker:Traffic slowed on the other side of the intersection as I thought about it.
Speaker:“I don’t know if I’ll be helpful, but we could try.”
Speaker:The traffic light turned green, letting us into the city with the sun glowing angelic white on Luna’s fur
Speaker:from beyond the window.
Speaker:From her pocket she produced a phone. “Eight
Speaker:-twenty-three,”
Speaker:she recited into the microphone,
Speaker:“Thursday, July six. Interview five.”
Speaker:Luna glanced at me.
Speaker:“Riley the letter carrier.”
Speaker:“Local postal service branch manager,”
Speaker:I corrected. She snorted.
Speaker:“Riley the ‘that’. To start off, did you grow up here?”
Speaker:“Nope. Moved here with my husband thirteen years ago.”
Speaker:I flipped up my sun visor.
Speaker:She didn’t follow.
Speaker:“Have you ever visited the Lahe Swamp
Speaker:before today?” “We hiked out there a few times, me and Luiz.”
Speaker:“And did you know about the colony?”
Speaker:“Never heard of it until today.
Speaker:If your project is banking on this, I could drop you off at the museum.” “Been there,
Speaker:obviously.” She tapped the pencil against her teeth.
Speaker:“Was Luiz born here?”
Speaker:“Yeah. Grew up about eight minutes from here.”
Speaker:“He learned quite a bit about the swamp growing up, I take it.”
Speaker:“Probably. You want my number? I could ask him about it and talk later.”
Speaker:She glanced at his picture.
Speaker:“Maybe. I still want to get through this, though.”
Speaker:“Suit yourself.” “Did he ever tell you about the area?”
Speaker:Luna watched another truck pass by.
Speaker:“The giant trees with holes bored through their trunks?” “He said he used to play in them
Speaker:with his friends when they were kids.
Speaker:Some hollows have ladders to the branches, which used to be shelter for…”
Speaker:I trailed off at my realization.
Speaker:“Those are the ruins, aren’t they?”
Speaker:“According to most accounts.
Speaker:Ones he probably heard about in school.
Speaker:You said he grew up on the outskirts of the city,
Speaker:right?” “Still had to walk a ways for schooling, if I recall.”
Speaker:I chuckled shortly.
Speaker:“That part always shocked
Speaker:me.” “What?” “That infrastructure was so dialed back. My dad was born here, but he moved to Sully before I was born.
Speaker:I was in school a little while later than Luiz, but the buses I rode were years old.”
Speaker:“How much older is Luiz?
Speaker:Is he much taller than you?”
Speaker:“Twelve years.
Speaker:And a couple feet.” My eyes drifted to my side window, watching the palm trees and bushes speed by.
Speaker:“Wait, what does that have to do with anything?”
Speaker:“I have a classmate studying height differences in marriages.
Speaker:Even cross-species,
Speaker:partners tend to end up closer
Speaker:than their averages.” She waved a paw. “But I’ve got a friend back in Bernan who’s dating an older fellow too.
Speaker:Her parents aren’t too happy about it.”
Speaker:“I know that noise.
Speaker:noise.” “With the age gap?” Luna was staring out the window and drawing again when I peeped over.
Speaker:I couldn’t quite see her sketch, but it didn’t look like a landscape.
Speaker:“I don’t think Dad’s quite over it.
Speaker:He never talked to me about romance after I came out.”
Speaker:I scratched my muzzle.
Speaker:“Mom thought homosexuality was evil.
Speaker:Up until she died.
Speaker:died.” “Oh. I’m so sorry.” She studied me with sympathetic eyes. “Even living in Sully?”
Speaker:“Just because she lived there didn’t mean she fit in.”
Speaker:Luna’s ears drooped.
Speaker:I caught it in the corner of my vision as I pulled up to a red light.
Speaker:“Did your dad side with her?”
Speaker:I scowled at her.
Speaker:“What does this have to do with your lost colony again?”
Speaker:That stopped her in her tracks.
Speaker:Her eyes fell back to her page.
Speaker:“Sorry.” I took a deep breath.
Speaker:A pair of pedestrians walked by
Speaker:—two birds I didn’t recognize the pattern of.
Speaker:“Dad used to work in lumber
Speaker:with all those traditionalist macho types.
Speaker:He was always hellbent on manning me up
Speaker:—teaching me to be like him.
Speaker:More selfish than malicious.
Speaker:We haven’t talked since Mom died.”
Speaker:Luna hesitated. “Ah.
Speaker:I’m sorry.” I chuckled shortly.
Speaker:“You can stop apologizing, you know.”
Speaker:“Oh.” She pursed lips that barely hid a smile.
Speaker:“I’m not sorry for that.”
Speaker:With a smirk, I ran my fingers over the leather of the wheel.
Speaker:“Dad met Luiz once.
Speaker:It was awkward, and I figured he felt threatened.
Speaker:I think we wanted different things out of life, so I stopped returning his calls.”
Speaker:“There’s something to be said about found family,”
Speaker:Luna mused. “Not to make assumptions about your own lived experience,
Speaker:but you shouldn’t have to put up with them just because they’re possums.”
Speaker:“Right.” Nearing the towers downtown, Luna turned to me again.
Speaker:“So, what was it like moving across the continent to stay here?”
Speaker:“Well, I had Lou. We met when I sat next to him at a film festival. Business trip for him,
Speaker:day out for me and my friends.”
Speaker:A car came up on my rear. I merged to let it pass.
Speaker:“It’s funny. It was raining so hard I almost stayed home that day.
Speaker:I remember what kind of stuff I was worrying about when I brushed my teeth and got dressed that morning.
Speaker:Everything that turned out to be so meaningless packed into a day that changed the
Speaker:trajectory of my life.”
Speaker:She smirked. “You called me the philosophical one.” “Well,
Speaker:I asked him out before I left.
Speaker:I was shooting a lot of shots then, since things hadn’t worked out with my last few boyfriends.”
Speaker:I kept my eyes fixed on the road, carefully navigating the half-lane left by cars parked on the side of it.
Speaker:“He didn’t even tell me about his growing fame until our third date.”
Speaker:“Defense mechanism?” Luna spun around her pencil. “There’s
Speaker:a lot of crazies trying to date fame.”
Speaker:I scoffed. “Oh, I’m crazy too! I just don’t care about fame.”
Speaker:The sky glowed yellow above the concrete jungle. Orange hues highlighted the tips of purple clouds
Speaker:marking a day fleeting.
Speaker:“Has it been a bit of an adjustment, then?”
Speaker:“Yeah,” I said, staring at a billboard in the distance.
Speaker:“But you face challenges in any relationship.”
Speaker:“Thirteen years, though, right?”
Speaker:“Doesn’t mean it’ll last forever.” Luna didn’t say anything.
Speaker:After a moment of quiet,
Speaker:she looked at me wistfully.
Speaker:“Nothing lasts forever.” It was
Speaker:a curious thing to say to someone nearly twice her age
Speaker:—not that it even felt like I’d lived half my life since that age.
Speaker:My parents always talked about that as an
Speaker:existential fear.
Speaker:For our differences, there were some things I managed to inherit.
Speaker:That thought gave me some butterflies.
Speaker:I hadn’t talked to Dad in months.
Speaker:“Riley?” She had to repeat it before I heard it. I snapped out of my reverie.
Speaker:“Uh huh?” “I think you missed a right.” My eyes snapped down to the GPS screen.
Speaker:Then up to the hospital in the distance.
Speaker:God damn it. “Thanks. Got a little off-track.”
Speaker:I glanced over at her phone, still recording from her lap.
Speaker:“Speaking of...
Speaker:of...your interview. I think I’ve talked more about myself than I have your subject.”
Speaker:Luna shook her head.
Speaker:“I asked you about yourself.
Speaker:There’s only so much you can say about the land itself.
Speaker:And what’s that worth out of context?”
Speaker:“The interview was worth a shot,” I offered.
Speaker:“It’s worth something more to me.”
Speaker:She turned back down to her drawing.
Speaker:“You haven’t studied the swamp like I have,
Speaker:but your experience of the structures built around it is valuable to me.”
Speaker:I sat waiting to turn back onto the correct path.
Speaker:A group of pedestrians walked ahead at the light.
Speaker:“I wasn’t born here.”
Speaker:“But have those thirteen years felt incomplete?
Speaker:You had to adapt here as an adult, rather than learn it from birth like your husband.”
Speaker:Her pencil stopped moving.
Speaker:“You just might see the things lifelong residents are blind to.”
Speaker:“Like what?” She held my gaze, hauntingly still for a moment.
Speaker:Finally, her eyes turned away and she shrugged under the arms of her herb-scented cloak.
Speaker:Luna’s silence remained as we drove upon ancient stone buildings that clashed with the sleek modern towers in the distance.
Speaker:I cornered into a busway on the fringe of her campus and pulled
Speaker:over. “Ding, dong!” I sang. “Riley Transit has reached the end of the line. Thank you for riding with us and please do not charge the doors!”
Speaker:“With jokes like that, I see why you want to be a dad,”
Speaker:Luna grumbled. Her phone camera snapped.
Speaker:It was pointed down at her open sketchbook.
Speaker:Quick paws ripped out the page and held it to me.
Speaker:I blinked down at the sketched face of the possum.
Speaker:Behind him stood a T.
Speaker:rex resting a hand on his opposite shoulder.
Speaker:Luna scratched the back of her neck.
Speaker:“I hope I captured his likeness.
Speaker:Your picture of him is really small.”
Speaker:There was a hopeful glimmer in my eye,
Speaker:matched by Luiz’s warm smile.
Speaker:She drew me with my cap,
Speaker:funnily; I guess she couldn’t see me without it. “Luna, this is incredible!
Speaker:Wait a minute, let me take a picture...” I rummaged through my pocket until her paw landed on my wrist.
Speaker:“I drew it for you to keep.
Speaker:I have everything I need.
Speaker:Except…” She held a blank contact entry out on her phone.
Speaker:“Could we exchange numbers?
Speaker:I’m still looking for leads and I’d love to talk to Luiz directly.
Speaker:Or anyone you know who might be connected in any way—through
Speaker:great-grandparents, even
Speaker:—to the people who lived in that swamp.”
Speaker:I took the phone from her.
Speaker:“I’ll see what I can do.”
Speaker:After swapping contact info, we shook paws.
Speaker:Luna then stepped out onto the sidewalk
Speaker:and stood at the door.
Speaker:Her smile glowed brighter than her cloak as she held her sketchbook
Speaker:and nodded to me once more. “Thank you so much! This means a lot to me, Riley!” I started to wave at her. Then a thought
Speaker:that bugged me from the moment I saw her resurfaced.
Speaker:“Y’know, you remind me of someone.”
Speaker:“Who?” Hesitation caught up with my pursuit.
Speaker:I’d sound like a total jackass if she took it wrong.
Speaker:On second thought, I just shook my head.
Speaker:“Nevermind. Just a memory.”
Speaker:My fingers found the brim of my cap.
Speaker:“You have a good night.
Speaker:I’ll be sure to get back!”
Speaker:Luna vanished into the parking lot as I tapped off the GPS
Speaker:and turned back onto familiar roads.
Speaker:I didn’t see much of the city on the way back to the office.
Speaker:I was far too preoccupied by the decision Luna prodded me back towards
Speaker:to drive with more than simple reflex.
Speaker:The muscle memory was so ingrained into me that even in dreams I often found myself driving these streets.
Speaker:I told everyone I could navigate downtown with my eyes closed.
Speaker:Something about Luna
Speaker:made me forget that.
Speaker:I sipped my drink,
Speaker:tasting nothing but the last couple drops sitting at the bottom.
Speaker:The thought wouldn’t leave my mind as long as I let it foster.
Speaker:Luiz was waiting for me at home, and I wanted to do this without him there.
Speaker:I knew he would ask
Speaker:if I had to retreat to another room.
Speaker:On a quieter avenue,
Speaker:a couple blocks down from the postal office,
Speaker:I pulled over beside the curb.
Speaker:I fished around for my phone,
Speaker:opened the contact list and scrolled past Luna’s entry.
Speaker:Names flew under my thumb,
Speaker:years whizzing by,
Speaker:until I finally loomed upon a long-unused number.
Speaker:Headlining his profile was a contact photo at least a decade old.
Speaker:There he stood, an aging woodpecker,
Speaker:grinning tall and proud with his
Speaker:possum wife in his arms.
Speaker:My thumb hovered over the call button.
Speaker:With a deep breath, I took the plunge and pressed the phone to my ear.
Speaker:The sun was gone from view, leaving behind a vista of millions of colours over the city sky.
Speaker:I slouched back in my seat,
Speaker:watching traffic pile up at the light as the phone rang in my paw.
Speaker:The second ring followed.
Speaker:The third ring felt as long as a lifetime.
Speaker:The fourth ring inhabited its own eternity.
Speaker:I knew it. I let go of my held breath and sat up straight.
Speaker:Why did I think he’d still pick up after this long?
Speaker:During the fifth ring, I prepared to hang up before it sent me to voicemail.
Speaker:Instead, the ring cut out.
Speaker:My mouth went dry.
Speaker:I must’ve registered the old landline,
Speaker:because the line crackled a little.
Speaker:The signal travelled a continent to reach me, but it seemed as though he were
Speaker:lightyears away.
Speaker:“Riley?” His voice, a familiar whistle, sounded
Speaker:frail, yet hopeful,
Speaker:like a man finding an oasis in the desert.
Speaker:Guilt panged in my chest.
Speaker:The intersection light turned green, prompting a mass migration of traffic ahead.
Speaker:I waited until I could muster up the courage to speak.
Speaker:What could I even say?
Speaker:I peeked down at Luna’s sketch.
Speaker:The confident possum wore a wordless smile.
Speaker:His partner, too, spoke only from his eyes. Yet,
Speaker:with not a word on the page,
Speaker:the drawing read like a letter long sealed from the back of the mail truck.
Speaker:Sitting open, it told me exactly what to say.
Speaker:“Hey, Dad. I’m in your hometown.”
Speaker:This was “I’m In Your Hometown”
Speaker:by DukeFerret, read for you by Rob MacWolf —
Speaker:werewolf hitch-hiker..
Speaker:You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog.
