Clowders

by Vanessa Morgan

  “That's fine. I know Simon by now,” Jess said, though she was apprehensive about meeting him again considering his strange behavior the other night.

  “I'll have to get back to work. See you later, Jess.” Aidan gave Eleonore a kiss on the forehead. “See you tonight, E. Take care of Avalon.”

  After half an hour, it was finally their turn. The door at the far end of the room opened, and Simon filled its frame, ready to whisk them in.

  “Hi, Simon,” Jess said, smiling.

  He didn't seem pleased to see her. “Room A,” he instructed, without greeting them first.

  “A is for Avalon,” Eleonore said, and a smile curled around her lips. She turned to Simon. “Are you doing the same work as my dad?”

  “Indeed I am,” he said. He was obviously not intent on having a conversation with a five-year-old.

  “It mustn't be very hard then,” Eleonore exclaimed.

  Simon ignored Eleonore's remark.

  Following Simon, Jess and Eleonore passed the reception desk behind which dozens of bags and cans of organic and prescription cat food were stacked.

  Simon left them to wait in Room A for at least ten minutes. When he finally arrived, he looked even more irascible than before.

  Because of Avalon's incessant whining, they had already taken their cat out of its carrier so he could explore the room.

  “Don't you know what patience is?” Simon said, enraged. “Your cat could have run out into the waiting-room or knocked something over.”

  Eleonore flinched at the harsh sound of Simon's voice and recoiled into herself.

  So what? Jess thought but decided to bite her tongue. It seemed odd to Jess that a vet who was supposed to make animals feel better would choose to behave so disrespectfully toward humans.

  Simon hefted Avalon into his arms and forced him onto the examination table, before turning to Jess. “So,” he said. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Not sure,” she said, while Simon homed in on Avalon with his icy blue eyes. “Avalon is different today. He hisses at me and trembles whenever I approach him. He never hisses.”

  Simon didn't say anything. He examined Avalon for lumps and took his temperature but didn't seem overly concerned. Then he stated matter-of-factly: “Your cat is perfectly healthy. He just senses you killed one of his own kind on Saturday.”

  Eleonore's mouth dropped open. “Mom? Did you kill a cat?”

  “Not exactly, darling. We were in an accident and a cat got hurt.” She turned back to Simon. “I know Avalon's in pain,” she countered. “He's acting weird. Every time I try to move him, he yelps.”

  “I'll take a blood test to be sure. Is the cat starved?”

  “I think so. He refused to eat today. Probably because he isn't feeling well,” Jess explained.

  In a matter of seconds, Simon shaved a patch on Avalon's front leg, took his blood, labeled the tube, and refrigerated the sample. “I'll let you know the results as soon as we have them,” he said.

  “You sure Avalon's gonna be okay?” Eleonore asked. She sounded genuinely worried.

  When Simon failed to answer, Jess looked at her daughter and offered her a reassuring nod.

  Simon went to his desk and started typing something on his computer. His oversized desk made her feel even smaller. “I've created a record for Avalon,” he said. “What's the address?”

  “Grand-Rue 34.”

  “That's 50 euros then,” he said. “You know how the reimbursement works?”

  “I do.” Jess dug into her purse and handed him the notes.

  Simon collected them, arranged them inside his drawer, and continued to type. When he saw that Jess wasn't reacting, he said, “That's it. You can go.” He motioned toward the exit for them to leave. No goodbye. No handshake. Nothing.

  For a second, Jess stood there, perplexed. “Come on, E,” she said as she got up. “Let's get Avalon back home.”

  Avalon let out a high-pitched yelp and cowered on the examination table when Jess approached.

  Simon got up with a sigh, took the cat, and forcefully put him inside the carrier. He made Jess feel as if she didn't know how to handle her own cat, while, apart from today Avalon had always been more than manageable.

  She took the carrier containing Avalon from the examination table and went for the exit. Before opening the door to leave, she turned: “Thank you for seeing us, Simon. Have a good evening.”

  He didn't answer.

  ***

  Aidan was home much earlier than he had expected. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Jess pulled the last tray from the oven. The aroma of her creations swirled around the entire apartment. Eleonore sat at the kitchen table, filling the pages of a coloring book on her favorite subject: princesses. Knowing Jess and Eleonore were home when he came back from work was – nice.

  “How's Avalon?” he asked.

  “Apparently, he's fine,” she replied. “Simon said Avalon's being mean to me because I ran over that cat.”

  “What?”

  “I don't even think he was joking. He looked dead serious.”

  “How's E taking it?”

  “Not well, of course. She doesn't understand we don't do anything about it. She keeps saying I should make Avalon some soup because that's what I do for her when she's ill.”

  Aidan approached and snuggled up to Jess from behind to comfort her. “Don't let him get to you,” he said. “Simon's a jerk.”

  Jess took the hand he put on her tie in hers and pushed herself a little closer to him.

  It felt good to be near Jess again. It felt like home.

  ***

  Jess thought Aidan was unusually distant tonight. After dinner, Aidan loaded the dishes into the dishwasher and helped Jess to tidy up the kitchen. After he tucked Eleonore into bed, he plopped down on the sofa. Jess arrived with two piping hot, insulating cups of cocoa and snuggled up to him, but he instinctively pulled farther away from her. She turned to look at him, the rejection feeling like a burning, suffocating sting in her throat. Aidan obviously didn't seem to realize how he was increasing the emotional distance between them. Tears welled up, but she didn't want her husband to see them, so she got up.

  Jess went back to the kitchen and opened her laptop. A storm had set in, the first since they arrived in Europe, and she watched the rain from the window that overlooked the forest. The window was slightly ajar and the scent of wet fir filled the room. Apart from the sounds of the storm, the apartment had settled into an uncomfortable silence.

  When she had controlled her tears, she glanced over at her husband. He watched her briefly, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to understand why she was disassociating herself from him, but he didn't say anything.

  The wind picked up outside, howling through the trees. She stayed there, alone, nursing her cup of cocoa and looking up fall decoration ideas. Aidan put on the television and picked up in the middle of a war movie. The tension between them was stifling.

  Even Avalon was distant. He lay quietly in a corner of the living room. He didn't sleep; he sniffed occasionally and peered around him, his gaze sullen. It was the first time he didn't want to be next to Eleonore. Normally he went to sleep with her at the same time and only woke when she did. When there was a hard noise on television, Avalon hissed softly, then went back to sleep.

  “What is it with that cat today?” Aidan asked. “He's driving me crazy. He's as tensed as a spring.”

  That makes two of you then, Jess thought. Her husband was not a single atom calmer than the cat.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jess had a hard time waking up these past few days. She used to bounce out of bed with enthusiasm, even early in the morning, but lately, she lay on her side, staring out the window at a patch of foggy sky, facing the days with apprehension. She wanted nothing more than to retreat into the warm, sweet bliss of sleep where the reality of her life was temporarily forgotten.

  She didn't like the idea of spending another random d
ay driving around for hours to look for work and bring Eleonore to school, especially in a car that faltered and squeaked because they didn't have enough money to repair it entirely after the accident. It was a miracle the vehicle even functioned.

  The first responses to her job applications had started to arrive. All negative. She lay awake for hours at night, thinking about all the debt they were accumulating, how difficult it was to get a job, and that she wouldn't even have the money to see her parents if one of them got ill. She had only been looking for work for a few weeks, so maybe there was no reason yet to despair. Yet she was realistic. Only a small number of jobs were up for grabs in this tiny country, and the majority of these required the knowledge of French and, sometimes, German. How would she be able to convince potential employers that she was capable of learning the language? She was obliged to find work as quickly as possible because there was more to pay than they could afford. On top of that, they had spent all their life savings on this trip. She had wanted to use this money for Eleonore, so she could go to college later and maybe help her buy a house or a car when she was old enough, but that cash was gone now.

  But there was something else that bothered her. Even if she did find a job, she became dejected at the idea of the combination of a full-time job with the overlong drives to and from Eleonore's school. Also, she still needed to cook, run errands, and do the household as well. She felt burnt out thinking about it.

  On top of that, Aidan had become absent from her life. He was always at the cat clinic. Back when they were dating, Jess liked the passion with which her husband helped animals. Now she wished that she and Eleonore could be at least as important as the cats, which was something she had started to doubt, especially because whenever they were together, Aidan seemed absent, as if he was always dreaming about a place far away from them.

  No job, no friends, no family, and the daily confrontation with a husband who had no time for her and who was crushing on someone else. No wonder she didn't have the courage to get out of bed.

  Get up, Jess, she admonished herself. Take a shower, make tea. You'll feel better.

  She gleaned the little energy she had and turned away from the comfort of sleep. After a shower and the obligatory minimal hair and face touch-up, she studied her closet without interest and pulled out a striped dress.

  When she finally managed to face the day, Eleonore decided to be the most burdensome as she could be. Jess had to repeat everything several times because her daughter didn't seem to hear anything she said, probably due to the continued lack of sleep. Fatigue also made her slower than usual, so she had to tell Eleonore to hurry up and dress faster.

  When they finally arrived in the kitchen, Jess spooned two dollops of yogurt from the container she just got out of the fridge into Eleonore's bowl, added some cereal, and topped her breakfast off with several chunks of sliced banana.

  Much to Jess' frustration Eleonore refused to eat without having on the television. “We're already running late,” Jess said, knowing that distractions would slow down her daughter even more. “We have to be out the door in five minutes.”

  Eleonore started to cry. There was no way they would be on time for school if she continued like this.

  Jess switched on the television out of sheer exasperation. It helped a little. Once in a while, her daughter put a spoonful of yogurt and fruit in her mouth, but mostly she kept zoning out every few seconds, absorbed by the images in front of her. Breakfast was the furthest thing from Eleonore's mind.

  Jess put a sachet of green tea into a mug and poured hot water into it. The tea steamed into the cold morning air, and she settled herself at one end of the table and stared out the big window while waiting for Eleonore to finish her breakfast. The leaden gray sky, thick with fog, matched her mood. Little by little, she was beginning to feel she couldn't go on like this.

  She picked up her iPad and took her mind off her negativity by looking up ways to learn basic French in a matter of weeks. Much to her surprise, she found books and vloggers who claimed this was possible, though she doubted she would ever be able to accomplish this. “Start by learning the 100 most important words first, then add to that list,” they all said. “Don't just study words but use them in context. Listen to the French radio. And most of all – speak the language as much as you can, even when you know only a few words.” Challenge accepted.

  As Eleonore took the last spoonful of yogurt and cereal, Jess finished her tea. Reluctantly she got up. Putting one foot in front of the other seemed like too much.

  Get a grip on yourself, she mumbled. You're a survivor. She took a deep breath to calm down.

  After Jess had dropped Eleonore off at school, she went to a bookstore and bought two French courses - a textbook and an interactive software and audio course. She didn't have the money to invest in French lessons, but it was the only way if she wanted to find a job here. She had read somewhere that sometimes, to make significant progress, you had to invest the money before you earned it.

  Arriving back in Clervaux, she settled down at one of the tables of the bakery next to her apartment. She needed the variation of a different location, as she couldn't stand the thought of being locked up alone inside for an entire day.

  She treated herself to a cup of steaming hot tea while she delved into the basics of the French language. The hot drink and the smell of fresh bread and croissants calmed her down a bit. Her book was supposed to teach you language hacks so you could start speaking French immediately. You only studied what was indispensable, skipped what was not, and used what you'd learned in real conversations right away. It was all about being smart about what you focused on.

  It was market day, so the town was livelier than usual. From where she sat, she could see the local stallholders selling fruit and vegetables harvested in the nearby fields, and, through the hubbub of the market, the cats.

  Both Avalon and the baker's cat, Romero, slept on the table next to hers. Nearly everyone who entered the bakery went up to Avalon and Romero to give them a good ruffle, which they both accepted willingly.

  Meanwhile, his owner was cleaning the tables for the upcoming visitors. She thought he looked like some little girl's image of her favorite grandfather.

  He glanced at her language book. “You are the new American in town, right? My new neighbor?”

  Jess repeated the phrases she just learned from her book. “Oui, je suis Américaine, mais j'habite ici à Clervaux.” She extended her hand to greet him, and he did the same. “Je m'appelle Jessica. Et toi?”

  “Georges,” he said.

  “Enchanté,” she said, which she learned a few minutes ago meant Nice to meet you.

  “Enchanté,” Georges replied back. “Vous parlez français?”

  Jess shook her head. She already used all the words she'd mastered, but she was confident she'd make good progress over the coming weeks. In one month, I'll be having a real conversation in French with him, she thought. “Seems like your cat is getting along well with yours,” she continued. “They're always hanging out together.”

  “Oh, the white one is your cat? Yes, they're good friends,” Georges said with a French accent. “Romero is kind to people, but he doesn't like other cats, except yours.”

  “Really? That's so funny,” Jess replied.

  “Maybe Romero likes you, too. He enjoys it when I scratch his back. He can't stop licking his lips when I do that. You want to try?”

  “Okay.” Jess got up, leaned over the table where the cats were resting, and scratched Romero's back.

  Romero swatted at her, put his ears backward, twitched his tail, and looked at her angrily for a few seconds. Then he went hiding behind the counter. Avalon, too, hissed at Jess before running outside.

  Georges first looked perplexed, then looked Jess straight in the eyes as if she had committed a crime. “Ça ne va pas ou quoi? Qu'est-ce que vous avez fait?” He held Romero in his hands and consoled his cat as if Jess had mistreated him.

  Was Georg
es pulling her leg? But there wasn't a single glimmer of amusement in the corners of those crow's footed eyes. The man was dead serious.

  Why was he yelling at her? It wasn't her fault the cat scratched her.

  “I only did what you suggested,” she said.

  “Romero n'a jamais fait un truc pareil. Il est gentil avec tout le monde,” Georges shouted. “Va-t-en! Va-t-en!”

  Though she didn't understand a word of what he said, it was evident from the gestures that he was urging her to leave, so that's what she did.

  Outside the bakery, Avalon stared at her indignantly.

  “Wanna come inside, Avalon?” she asked as she opened the front door to her apartment.

  As if making a point, Avalon turned his back and walked away from her into the direction of the town square.

  ***

  Aidan couldn't get that kiss with Lorenza out of his head. He thought about her first thing when he woke up and fell asleep imagining she was next to him in bed. Each day, Aidan hoped she would call or stop by the clinic, which she never did. Even now, when a patient brought in a cat with prolonged seizures, he was unable to push the thoughts he had about her to the back of his mind. Images of Lorenza’s beautiful body flashed forward as he laid the cat with its right side down, tilting its head, so the neck offered a straight passage into the lungs, and pulling the tongue forward. He placed another hand around the muzzle to keep the mouth closed, blew gently into its nostrils, and released to let the air come back out. After he had given 20 breaths per minute, he felt for the femoral artery and pinched the cat between the toes to check for a response.

  Nothing.

  The animal had made an uncomfortable-looking arch in its spine, and its head was tilted backward. Its pulse was racing, and one of its pupils was dilated, indicating that its body was trying hard to stay alive. The gurgling and wheezing noises meant the cat's respiratory system was shutting down.

  Damn! He had to concentrate! If he couldn't revive this cat within 20 minutes, there was little chance it would live.