Exiled to Paradise - Vignettes - 2. Chapter 2

This story contains anthropomorphic people ("furries") and humans living together. It contains teenagers in a private school setting, potentially interacting in adult situations. If this is morally or legally objectionable to you or the area in which you live, please do not read any further.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters, settings, and events are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead or any location, real or fictional, is purely coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended.

Exiled to Paradise and all characters, settings, and events included therein are the property of the author, except where otherwise noted in individual chapters. The story or characters may not be reproduced or republished elsewhere without the explicit written consent of the author.

"William," sounded the gruff voice from the doorway.

The jaguar, startled from his book, quickly lept from the chair, standing straight and hugging the book to his chest. "S-sorry, sir, I thought you-- I won't sit in the chair again!"

The white-haired human shook his head with amusement. "It's a chair, boy, it's designed to be sat in, and it'd be a sin not to let it see its purpose fulfilled."

"Ye-yes sir!"

The man took another couple of steps into the room. Despite his apparent age, he still held himself ramrod straight, dressed in the formal day-wear of an age past. He reached over with his silver-handled walking stick and tapped the book William grasped. "Are you putting as much effort into your schoolwork as you are into devouring my library?"

The jaguar shrugged, his ears folding back in embarrassment.

"Or do I have to ask Miss Grace for a progress report?" the man continued, as he came to stand next to the boy.

William ducked his head. "No! I'm doing.. She hates me, sir! She hates all the animals in her class."

The jaguar sucked his breath in when the calloused hand gripped his chin and pulled his head up to face the older man. "Is that what she calls you? William, I don't ever want to hear you refer to yourself or any other furred people as animals. However..."

The fingers were suddenly released, and William unconciously rubbed his chin with his free hand, extracting a chuckle from the man, before he continued. "In life, you have to learn to work with people who hate you, or whom you hate. William, your father asked me to take care of you until he came back from the hospital. His words were to treat you as if you were my own."

The man looked up at the distant sound of a bell. "Well, it's that late," he murmured. Glancing back down to the black-furred feline, he nodded in decision. "Put your book away, clean up, and come down for supper. After you've eaten and had your bath, you'll join me in my office, where you'll do your studies for an hour before bed. You'll do this every night for this school year, and we'll see how your grades progress."

The jaguar looked up in amazement, his ears perking word by word. "Do you mean it? I can sit with you while you work? I'll be good, I'll do my studies and be quiet, I promise, Mister Iverson! I promise!" He turned and scampered off to the hallway to head up to his room, tail waving excitedly behind him.

Old man Iverson looked after William. "No run--" he began to call after him, then continued to himself, "oh, bother, he's a boy, he'll run anyway." Upon hearing the second ringing of the supper bell in the other wing of the house, he nodded. "I'm on my way, Missus Iverson," he said with a smile, walking stick coming back down to the hardwood floor with a solid tap.