9 Lives
9 Stories for Cat Lovers
By
A. Kale
© A. Kale. 2011
“I love cats because I love my home, and after a while they become its visible soul.”
Jean Cocteau
For cat lovers around the world.
A Word from Dr. Rex Chartreaux (I)
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Professor Rex Chartreux. I am a storyteller. Telling stories is my passion, my reason for living. I live to read and read to live. My second passion in life is cats.
Cats are beautiful, elegant creatures. Self-sufficient, loyal, and have great hygiene. They are also intelligent, cunning, and have a superb survival instinct. At times, that makes them allies. At times, that makes them dangerous enemies.
Throughout the ages, cats, all kinds, have played a part in many an adventure. In these adventures, cats sometimes played the role of the hero, sometimes the role of the villain.
Over the past few years I have written down some of these adventures and turned them into tales; some are scary, some are sad, some are funny, and some are just plain-old exciting.
So, allow me to share some of them with you.
Let’s begin with this one.
Looking for Tabby
Sarah didn’t know where else to look for her. And it was a her, not an it, like her silly brother, Adam, called her cat, Tabby.
Tabby was Sarah’s best friend. Her father had gotten her for her when she was four, almost three years ago. The first time Sarah had seen her, it was love at first sight. The straight, fluffy light brown hair, the pink fingers (or were they toes?) of her paws, the small pink nose, the beautiful, wide green eyes, and the thick, furry tail. Tabby was a dream.
Sarah always loved to sleep with Tabby by her side. Tabby would purr and make funny, bird-like noises till Sarah slept. One night, Sarah had woken up in the middle of the night to see Tabby lying beside her on the bed, moving her legs in place, moaning. She was having a nightmare. Sarah had patted her on her tummy, and Tabby had fallen back to sleep. A few nights later, when it was Sarah’s turn to have a nightmare, a horrible one about Sarah holding a bar of chocolate that just wouldn’t stop melting till it ruined all her clothes and made all her friends laugh at her, Sarah had felt a small, warm piece of sandpaper licking her hand, and she had woken up to find Tabby licking her, trying to wake her up and save her from the nightmare. That night Sarah had felt that her love for Tabby had doubled, even tripled, if such a thing were possible.
Now, Sarah was looking for Tabby, the sun shining down on her, making her hot and angry. She liked the sunshine, but sometimes there was too much of it and she had to put on that stupid cap that her father had given her and keep drinking water, or else she would become sick and stay in bed for days. And she hated that even more than she hated the sunshine when it was too strong.
Sarah put on her cap, a pink one with a smiling white bear printed on it. Sarah liked the smiling white bear, but she was too embarrassed to tell her friends that, ever since that annoying Joanna had laughed at her and told her that cute and cuddly things were for babies, and Sarah wasn’t a baby. She was almost seven, for heaven’s sake!
“Tabby! Tabby, where are you, girl? Come on out,” Sarah shouted at the top of her lungs. She was in Old Man’s Moses field, a few yards away from her house. Tabby sometimes liked to come and play here, chase mice, and just lie on her back, cooling her fat tummy.
But Tabby had never stayed out for so long. Sarah had been looking for her since the previous night. She was afraid and sad and confused. Where was she? Where had she gone? Was she alright?
Sarah’s eyes began to tear up. She couldn’t imagine life without Tabby. And although she knew that animals died – her neighbors’ cat, Roger, had died of some disease last year – she didn’t like to think about such things. She would think about it when it happened.
Then the tears overflowed and fell on her cheeks. They felt warm, but nice. They cooled her cheeks and made her feel a little bit better. Like she was filled with hot air and had let some of it out.
“Tabby, where are you, girl?” Sarah continued to look for her cat, wagging a piece of raw salmon that she held in her right hand. In her left was a small bottle of water for when she became thirsty. That reminded her, she was thirsty now. It was awfully hot out there. She raised the bottle to her lips and took a sip.
Meow.
Sarah stopped drinking.
“Tabby! Where are you?”
Meow.
Sarah tried to know where the sound was coming from, but a strong wind was blowing and it carried the sound this way and that. Sarah couldn’t tell where the meowing was coming from.
“Damn. Tabby, I am coming.”
Sarah starting looking around her, but she didn’t know where the sound was coming from.
Meow.
This time she got it. It was coming from her right. She looked in that direction and saw the huge tree. She had seen it before and her parents had always warned her not to climb it. They said that many kids had gotten hurt by doing just that.
Sarah had broken the pinky finger of her right hand two years ago and it had hurt real bad. She didn’t want to go through that again, so she had listened to her parents’ warnings and never climbed it.
Sarah walked toward it, looking at the branches, trying to see if Tabby was there, perched on one of them. But she couldn’t see her.
Meow.
This time the sound seemed to come from behind her. Then…
Meow – Meow.
It was more than one cat!
“Tabby?” Sarah wasn’t sure if it really was Tabby. Come to think of it, all cats sounded alike. Damn! She thought.
She turned around and caught a glimpse of a cat running away, around the corner. It looked gray, but she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t had a good enough look to be sure. She decided to follow it.
Sarah ran and turned the corner, which led her away from Old Man Moses’ farm and into the abandoned orchard. She didn’t like that place at all. It had lots of mice and all the trees were dead. The ground was covered with dead leaves and there were mice everywhere. Sarah didn’t like mice. She didn’t hate them or anything, but she didn’t like them, either. When she came across them she just left them alone and hoped they would return the favor.
She stood beside a tall tree and remembered her grandfather telling her that apples used to grow on these trees, that it was once a beautiful place, but that people stopped taking care of the trees and they had grown weak and stopped growing beautiful red apples. Then they died. They looked very sad to Sarah, now. Thinking about them and the apples that used to grow on them reminded her that she was hungry. She had forgotten to pack any food with her before she left. She took another drink of water, hoping it would hold her off till she went back home for lunch. But she wouldn’t go him till she found Tabby. But yesterday she had gone home and she hadn’t found Tabby. Then she remembered how angry she was at her mom and dad for trying to calm her down and telling her that it was alright and that Tabby would come back in the morning. She hadn’t. Sometimes she felt so angry at her parents. Sometimes she felt that they kept things from her, told her things that were missing some parts, like a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing. And nothing made Sarah more angry than when she discovered, after working on a jigsaw puzzle for hours, that the final four or five pieces were missing!
Meow.
Sarah looked down and saw Tabby. She fell down on her hands and knees and hugged Tabby close to her chest. She started to cry happy tears and kept saying, “Tabby, Tabby! Where have you been? Oh, I love you so much.”
Tabby started to lick her face, then she made that strange and wonderful sound that reminded Sarah of the cooing of pigeons. Tabby wanted to tell her something.
“What is it, Tabby?”
Tabby started to wriggle in Sarah’s hands. Sarah gently put her down on the ground. Tabby looked up at Sarah with her wide green eyes and started to walk away, toward one of the trees.
Sarah followed.
Tabby climbed up the tree and sat on a branch.
“I can’t climb that tree, Tabby, you know that.”
Tabby started wagging her tail, then started licking her paws. She was happy.
Then two more cats appeared from behind the tree and climbed up and sat beside Tabby. One was small and brown, with a white dot above its nose which made it look funny. The other one was light gray, chubby, and its right ear was smaller than the left. It looked at Sarah with wide eyes that made it look amazed. Sarah couldn’t help but smile at the three cats as they sat next to each other.
Then Sarah’s stomach started to growl again and she remembered that she was hungry. Then she remembered the piece of salmon that she held in her right hand.
“I brought you something, Tabby. Your favorite,” Sarah said, then started wagging the piece of salmon, trying to seduce Tabby with it.
Tabby jumped off the branch, came to Sarah and started to do that funny move with her head that she always did when she was hungry. Sarah put the piece of salmon on the ground and watched Tabby as she started to eat. Then the other two cats jumped off the branch and stood a few feet away from Tabby, watching her eat.
Up close, Sarah could see that they weren’t as clean as Tabby, and that the gray one had a couple of bald spots on its back. It made Sarah sad. She felt sorry for them and bent down to pat their heads and tell them it was alright. But they backed away, afraid.
Sarah tore off a piece of salmon and threw it their way. The brown cat jumped on the piece of salmon and started eating it quickly. Then, slowly, the gray one started to approach and Sarah tore off another piece and threw it its way. The gray cat walked toward it, keeping its eyes on Sarah all the time, then started to eat, looking up at Sarah between bites, to make sure that Sarah wasn’t up to anything funny. It made Sarah laugh, how nervous the cat was.
After the three cats finished eating, Sarah carried Tabby and, after waving goodbye to the other cats, walked home.
That night in bed, as she gently brushed Tabby’s hair with a small white brush, Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about the two stray cats she had seen at the orchard, about how dirty they had looked, how hungry they had been. She looked Tabby in the eye and said, “What do you think, Tabby? They are poor little creatures, aren’t they?” Tabby looked back at her, her eyes widening, waiting for Sarah to tell her what to do next. Sarah continued to brush Tabby’s hair as Tabby closed her eyes in pleasure. Sarah knew that it was the thing Tabby loved the most.
“Why did you go and run off like that? You know better than to go and do something like that.”
Sarah stopped brushing Tabby’s hair and bent down and kissed the top of her head.
She looked down at Tabby and suddenly understood.
“You wanted me to see them, didn’t you? You knew they were hungry, didn’t you?”
Tabby nervously hid her head under the pillow.
Sarah laughed.
The next day, Sarah, Tabby walking beside her, went to the orchard. It seemed less scary to her that day.
“Come on, Tabby, go find your friends.”
Tabby walked to one of the trees, then started sharpening her nails on its bark. A moment later the two cats appeared.
Something tugged at Sarah’s heart as she saw them. They looked so cute, so helpless.
“Look what I brought you, guys.”
Sarah opened the bag she had brought with her and showed them the Tupperware container filled with their food: pieces of chicken, two cans of tuna fish and some boiled vegetables, all mashed together.
She placed three paper plates on the ground and, with a plastic spoon, began to fill each one with a generous serving of the food her mother had helped her put together that morning.
When the three plates were full, she said, “Bon Appetite!”
Tabby was the first to start eating. Then the other two cats followed, the gray one looking at Sarah carefully.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
The cat seemed to understand and went to a plate and started to eat quickly. It was so hungry.
Sarah noticed that the brown cat was male and the gray one female. She decided to call the brown one Harry and the gray one Lisa.
“Mr. Harry and Miss Lisa, I think we’re going to be friends.”
Then, as if to make it official, Sarah dipped the spoon into the Tupperware container and lifted it to her mouth. She licked the food off of the spoon and said, “Yummy.”
After You
“Your time is up, friend,” Butch said in his usual deep voice. It made Kevin shudder. Come to think of it, everything about Butch unnerved him. His face, his hands, his strangely long fingers. His cat.
Kevin was usually impartial when it came to cats. He neither liked them nor hated them. He tolerated them. That was the extent of his relationship with the cats of the world.
But Butch’s cat repulsed him. It was black and muscular. Her flank shined as if Butch oiled it for her. And her eyes. Those damn yellow eyes.
Kevin closed his eyes and tried to think about what had brought him here, in this situation, in this small dirty room, in the company of a loan shark.
He’d come to the city five years ago. He was a nobody, had no family, had next to nothing, and was desperate. He lived as a homeless man for a couple of weeks, washing in public toilets and eating in soup kitchens, trying to keep himself looking like a human being. Then he lucked out. He met Butch. He seemed like a nice enough man, with his sharp suits, his deep, hypnotic voice, and his friendly black cat that purred at everyone she met.
Then, Butch offered him a job as a security officer for a warehouse at the edge of the city, an abandoned area where nothing lived but cats, dogs, vermin, and a few bums. He’d work twelve hours a day and receive a tad over minimum wage. He took the job.
Everything went fine, for a week. Then it all came tumbling down.
Butch asked him to share the inventory sheet of the warehouse with him, details about the security system used, and so on, and Kevin had naively complied. Then, a couple of days later, Butch and a couple of thugs broke into the place, and Butch told Kevin to look the other way. Kevin didn’t understand. Butch told Kevin that, thanks to Kevin and the information he’d provided them with, they were going to rob the warehouse and get away with it.
Kevin, a decent, hard-working man by nature, was devastated. He didn’t know what to do. He thought about going to the police. But Butch was ahead of him, as if he could read his mind, and told him that Kevin was the one who’d provided them with the information that had made the theft possible, which made him an accomplice. So if Butch went down, Kevin went down with him.
But that wasn’t all. Butch, who now, with his expensive black suits, slicked back hair, and deep voice, reminded Kevin of a disgusting reptile he’d once seen at the zoo, told Kevin that he owed him a monthly sum to keep his mouth shut about how Kevin had helped him and the thugs break into the place. Kevin couldn’t believe it. He was trapped, he had no one to turn to for help. Then it came to him that blackmail went both ways and that he had information that proved that Butch was the man who had robbed the warehouse.
When Butch heard that bit, he broke Kevin’s right hand.
Kevin had kept his mouth shut ever since and continued to pay Butch for his silence.
But now, standing before Kevin and his black cat, he didn’t know how to get out of this one. It was time to pay up and he had no money. His car had broken down earlier this week and it had cost him most of his paycheck to get it fixed. So the sum that Kevin usually kept tucked away for Butch had already been spent.
When he heard about that, Butch wasn’t happy.
“Time is up, friend,” he said and stroked the fur of his cat, who purred in response. Kevin took a step back, away from the man and cat.
“There is no more time to lose. Get my money or…” he left the rest unsaid, leaving it to Kevin’s imagination. Kevin’s right hand began to ache, a dull residual pain reminding him of what Butch had done to it in the past.
Kevin swallowed and held his damaged right hand in his left.
“You’ve got to give me more time, Butch. I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s too bad, Kevin,” Butch said, then got up, the cat jumped off his lap. He raised his hand, getting ready to beat Kevin.
Someone banged on the door of the room. Butch’s hand stopped in mid-air.
“Police! Open up, now!”
“Damn,” Butch said, his usually steady voice shaking.
“Come on, Tusk,” Butch called out to his cat, and they both jumped out the nearest window. Kevin looked around him for a second, stunned, unable to think.
Then, from behind the door:
“Police! Open up, Butch. We’ve got a warrant for your arrest. You’re going away this time. For a long time.”
Kevin knew that when they didn’t find Butch they were going to arrest him instead. They were going to question him, and maybe he would end up in prison.
No way, Kevin thought. I haven’t done anything!
“Open up!”
He thought about it for just a second, then he jumped out the window, into the night.
He landed on the balcony of the apartment below Butch’s. He grabbed the railing and looked above him, at the window he’d just escaped through.
A police officer was looking down at him.
“We got him!” the officer shouted.
Kevin couldn’t speak. He wanted to. He wanted to tell them that he wasn’t Butch. But he just couldn’t. He was too scared. Then he remembered how, on many occasions, people had pointed out the resemblance between him and Butch. Butch had even jokingly said once that if Kevin took more than a shower a month and could afford a good suit, he might pass as Butch’s younger brother.
No wonder they are after me. They think I am Butch!
He looked before him and saw that the window leading into the apartment was open. He went in. The apartment was dark. It looked abandoned. He looked around him, searching for the front door. It was to his left. He went to it and opened it. He ran toward the stairs and started taking them one at a time, slowly, quietly. He was going down.
Halfway down, a police officer reared his head from around the corner. When he saw Kevin, he smiled an ugly smile and said, “Gotcha!” Then he shouted, “He’s here!”
Kevin ran up the stairs, as quickly as he could, the police officer on his tail.
Then Kevin heard the officer shout, “Damn,” followed by the sound of him falling down. Kevin didn’t stop running, but glanced behind him and saw the cop sitting on one of the steps, grabbing his ankle, moaning in pain. Then Kevin thought he saw an animal scurry away, around the corner.
Kevin looked ahead of him and continued running up the stairs. He reached the door to the rooftop. He opened it and went outside.
It was a beautiful night, the sky moonlit, the weather cool and pleasant. Kevin tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating fast. He was drenched in sweat. He started to cry. How did I get here? How did I become such a coward? He kept looking up at the sky, the moon. He felt lost and helpless, small and broken. He’d never hurt anyone in his life. He was always kind to other people. He was just lost. Weak. He never stood up to anyone. He had no friends or older brothers to protect him or show him how to defend himself. Unlike what people thought, life on the streets made you a coward, afraid of your own shadow, not tough and cruel like in the movies.
He was a coward and he knew it. The police was going to get him and it was going to be all over.
God, how he wished for a second chance, a fresh start.
He could hear the police coming up the stairs. They were shouting. They sounded like monsters out to get him.
He stood in place, ready to face them. For once in his life he was going to stare life in the face and withstand.
Purrrrr…
He looked down and saw Tusk, Butch’s black cat, looking up at him.
He felt appalled. He hated that cat. Then it came to him: If Tusk was here, then Butch must be nearby. That cat was like his shadow. She would follow him to the moon. Like Kevin, Butch must have tried to escape but had gotten trapped and gone up.
Kevin looked around, searching for Butch.
“Come out, Butch. There’s no way out,” Kevin said, surprised at the strength he heard in his own voice.
“There’s no place to hide. They are almost here.”
“Damn you to hell!” Butch said, then emerged from behind an air-conditioning compressor. He looked as sharp as ever. Only a smattering of dust on his right jacket lapel marred his look from being perfect. Or perfectly sleazy, Kevin thought and smiled.
“What are you smiling at, you moron?”
Kevin didn’t answer.
The police burst onto the scene, guns raised.
“Stop where you are, both of you!”
Kevin raised his hands and fell down on his knees.
“My name is Kevin. This man behind me is the one you’re looking for,” Kevin said.
Butch looked at Kevin hatefully and didn’t speak.
One of the police officers, an older man with a kind face, said to Kevin, “You two sure look alike, son. Got any ID?”
“I…” Kevin said, then remembered that he’d left his wallet in the glove compartment of his car, which was currently in the shop getting fixed.
Kevin was about to explain, when one of the officers said, “That man back there is Butch, alright. Look at that cat. Everybody knows Butch never goes anywhere without it, and this one there obviously knows its master.”
Kevin turned around and saw Tusk rubbing her head against Butch’s ankles, while Butch tried to kick her away.
“Get away. Get away. I don’t know this cat, I swear,” Butch said, raising his hands, trying to pretend that the cat disgusted him.
The older officer smiled, pointed at Butch with his pistol and said, “Arrest that man.”
Both of them ended up getting arrested. But Kevin got out the same night after he was ID’d, and Butch ended up in jail for a variety of offences. He was going to stay there for years, it seemed.
Kevin was never the same after that night. He became more confident, more outgoing, and his attitude was so noticeable and catchy, that he was hired as an administrative assistant (which in reality translated into postal clerk) at a small company, where they treated him well and the pay was good.
He rented a new apartment, since he needed more space for him and his companion.
It was strange, after that night, he’d felt sorry for her, had taken her home, and, after a couple of days, they had become the best of friends.
Now, he couldn’t imagine living without Tusk.
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