Becoming Indigo

by Tara Taylor

  “She’s really matted,” I said, cradling the kitten close to my body.

  “There’s no collar,” said Sarah. “Maybe it’s a stray.”

  “She doesn’t look like she belongs to anyone.” Natalie scratched the top of the kitten’s head.

  “You look like Cedar,” I whispered. “Cedar’s my cat—she lives with my mom.” I looked at Sarah and Natalie. “Should we take her home?”

  “How do you know it’s a she?” Natalie asked.

  I shrugged and nuzzled my nose to the cat’s. “I don’t. But our motto is girls just wanna have fun.”

  “Let’s check,” said Sarah. “We need to know the sex. That’s important.”

  I carefully turned the little kitten over, and I almost cried when I realized that he was just skin over bones.

  “A boy,” said Sarah.

  “Yup,” I said. “Doesn’t matter.” I eyed both Sarah and Natalie. “He’s starving. Please. Let’s just take him home for now and give him some food. We’ll put up photos in case his owners are looking for him. If we don’t take him, he will die.”

  “He would have to be a black cat.” Sarah laughed. Then she lowered her voice and mimicked the opening from The Twilight Zone. “Do-doo-do-doo.”

  “That show freaks me out,” said Natalie, waving her hands at Sarah. Then she turned to me. “I’ll take your guitar so you can hold the kitty.”

  With the kitty wrapped in a beach towel like a baby and nestled in my arms, I made my way to the car, petting his little head to give him a feeling of security. When he looked up at me and meowed, I stroked his back. “It’s okay. We’ll get you food.” Then I looked at the car clock. “Let’s stop at the grocery store on the way to Licks. They’ll have cat food.”

  At the store, I ran in and quickly bought litter, the cheapest litter box I could find, a small bag of dried cat food, one can of wet food, and some special little cat treats, ones that my Cedar loved. Sarah and Natalie waited for me in the car, watching the kitty.

  “We’ll have to think of a name for him,” Natalie said when I was back in the car.

  I ripped open the treat bag, put one in the palm of my hand, and held it out for the little guy to eat. He wobbled on skinny legs and sniffed before he took the treat and started to crunch.

  Natalie turned around to face me and was watching every move he made. “He likes it,” she squealed. “Okay, let’s all think of three names, then we’ll decide which one is best.”

  “Or we could put them in a hat and pick,” said Sarah. She sped off, and within five minutes, she cranked the car wheel and drove into the Licks parking lot, lurching to a stop inches before the meridian.

  “I wonder if your brother is working today,” Sarah pondered, getting out of the car.

  We made sure we unrolled the windows a little so the kitten could get air while we went inside to get our ice cream cones. Brian was there, hovering over a girl dressed in a Licks apron who was standing in front of the counter that bridged the actual restaurant to the kitchen. She was probably waiting for burgers for her customers. I hoped he wasn’t harassing her to get her order out. He loved bossing everyone around. I was sure he was making the girl a nervous wreck.

  As soon as he heard the door, he turned, smiled, and waved. Much to my shock, the second he saw us, he left the girl’s side and strutted over to us. He never acknowledged my presence like this.

  “Hey, little sis,” he said. He was dressed in nice gray dress pants and a classic navy golf shirt.

  “Hey, Bri.”

  Sarah nudged me, then whispered, “Think he’ll give them to us for free?”

  “I heard that,” said Brian. “And not a chance. We’re running a business here.”

  I rolled my eyes. One day he would own some great restaurant or bar and be the world’s best businessman.

  “How’s the apartment?” he asked me. Then without waiting for me to answer, he turned to Natalie, winked, and grinned. “She got you seeing ghosts yet?”

  “Brian!” I glared at him.

  He put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry, little sis, it’s okay. We all know that bed in the psych ward is saved for you.”

  I jabbed his stomach to get him to shut up. Then I stepped forward and ordered a chocolate ice cream cone from the girl behind the counter. As she made my cone, dipping her arm in the barrel of cold ice cream, I thought about asking Brian for a job. Why not?

  Once I had my cone, I pulled him aside. “Do you have any job openings?”

  “I thought you had a job.”

  “I hate it.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’ve got a few people leaving to go back to school. It could work. But it would only be part time.” Then he grinned.

  “What?” I asked. He wanted something in return for his generosity.

  He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I get you a job, you get me a date. With your hot roommate.” He glanced at Natalie.

  I punched his arm. “That’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair, little sis. Get used to it.”

  We ate our ice cream cones in the car, which became a total disaster because the heat caused them to melt on the spot. By the time we arrived back at the apartment, my hands were sticky and gooey with chocolate ice cream.

  “Dibs on the shower,” said Sarah.

  A shower wasn’t my priority, so I didn’t argue.

  Right away, I made a bed for the kitty in my room out of an old blanket. Then I set out two little chipped bowls—which I had bought for ten cents each at a garage sale before moving into the apartment—and filled one with water and one with wet food. As soon as he smelled the wet food, he went crazy and gobbled it down.

  “He’s an eating machine,” said Sarah, toweling her hair.

  “He’s shoveling that in like my great-aunt Henrietta used to do,” said Natalie. “Only he weighs a pound, and good ol’ Aunt Henrietta tipped ’em scales at around three hundred big ones.”

  “That’s his name,” I said without thinking. “Henrietta!”

  “Hel-lo. He’s a boy!” Sarah squawked.

  “I like it,” said Natalie.

  I bent down and touched the top of his head. “We’ll fatten you up, Henry.”

  “Okay,” replied Sarah. “I can do Henry.”

  I placed a handful of dry cat food crunchies on the floor beside his bowl and sat cross-legged to watch him eat.

  Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and we all looked at one another. My heart started racing. Could it be the woman? Would she knock? Or just slam?

  “I’m not expecting anyone,” I mumbled.

  “Me either,” said Natalie. “Unless my great-aunt has arrived from Newfoundland.”

  The corners of Sarah’s mouth lifted into an impish grin, and I immediately relaxed as she jumped up and ran to the door. Natalie and I burst out laughing when we heard a guy’s low voice.

  “I bet it’s the guy from the bar,” Natalie whispered to me.

  “I bet you’re right,” I said.

  Natalie glanced at me. Then she said, “What your brother said about ghosts … do you really see them?”

  I opened my mouth to speak when Sarah and her friend walked in the kitchen.

  “Ladies, this is Tyler,” she said. “He just signed a lease for the downstairs apartment.”

  It was three o’clock before I went to bed. I didn’t have to work in the morning, so I could sleep until noon if I wanted. Even though I had made a bed for Henry, he crawled into bed with me, just like Cedar used to.

  The damp air just hung in the sky, and the night was still so humid. I had opened my window as wide as I could to try and get some air circulating in my room.

  Shadows danced on my walls as I petted Henry. He purred and cuddled in beside me. When I told my mother about him, she freaked and said we needed to get him to the vet to get shots, and she’d instructed me on how to check for fleas.

  “You don’t have fleas,” I whispered. “Protect m
e, okay?”

  Slam. Slam. Slam.

  I hugged Henry to my chest.

  My door flew open. I immediately sat up.

  The stately woman stood in the doorway, glaring at me. “Have you no respect? The doctor is paying a visit. There is a sick child in the house!” She took a few steps toward me, and I jerked back until my body was pressed against the wall. She stared at me for a few seconds then she turned, swished her green skirt, and walked out of my room, slamming my door behind her.

  I stuck my face in Henry’s fur. “I don’t care if you have fleas or bugs or if you pee in my room. Stay with me. Green Lady scares me.”

  Raindrops hitting glass woke me up at 11 the next morning. I glanced at the window. Who had closed it? I was positive I had left it open last night. Had Natalie or Sarah come into my room when they saw the rain and shut it for me?

  My bedroom door was shut, though. Suddenly, I remembered the kitten. I jumped out of bed and began searching my room. “Here, kitty, kitty. Here, Henry.”

  I got down on my hands and knees and looked under my bed. I smiled when I saw him curled up inside one of my big, pink, fuzzy slippers. I had bought each of us girls a pair at Zellers for our slumber parties. Recently, it had been too hot to wear them, but I figured come winter, we’d all be strutting around the house with gigantic furry feet. Henry must have sensed me looking at him, because he opened his eyes, yawned, and stretched. I pulled him out from under my bed to take him to the litter box.

  The apartment seemed quiet and eerily still as I padded down the hall to the bathroom with Henry in my arms. Natalie and Sarah had both left for work, and I had the rainy day to myself. After Henry did his business and I praised him for it over and over, I put him on the floor and sat down on the toilet myself. I was unraveling toilet paper when the bathroom door flung open and there she was, standing at the door, staring at me.

  “Go away!” I tried to shut the door. “Have you no respect?”

  My natural instincts were to cover up, but then when I realized what I was doing, trying to stop a ghost from staring at me on the toilet, I started to shake. The woman was following me everywhere. She scowled at me and swished down the hall. I quickly finished, washed my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. Blue bags hung under my eyes, and my face was the color of paste. She was draining my energy.

  As I walked to the kitchen, I kept peering over my shoulder to see if she was trailing behind me, her long skirt sweeping the floor, her eyes boring into my back. The taps were off in the kitchen, which was good. I sighed and listened to beating rain for a few moments, waiting for her to show up.

  With my steaming tea, I plopped down on the sofa in our little living room with Henry in my lap. On rainy days I loved curling up and reading a good book, but I had just finished my last novel, so I flipped through the collection of videos we had in our cardboard box. I smiled when I pulled out Labyrinth. I’d watched it dozens of times, but on a rainy day, it was like comfort food. Sarah had brought a small television from her house that had a built-in video player, so I stuck the VHS in and settled back on the sofa.

  I lifted Henry up to my face. “You are perfect.”

  His loud meow made me rub noses with him. Then I nestled him on my lap so I could watch the movie. The music started. And so did the noises.

  Slam. Slam. Slam.

  Then a horrible wailing.

  Heavy footsteps stomped down the hall, and I grabbed Henry and held him tightly. The woman swept into the living room, glaring at me, and I trembled, almost as if I was having a convulsion. I watched as she fell to her knees and tilted her face upward. “I won’t let you do this to me.” I knew she wasn’t yelling at me this time.

  And just like that, she disappeared again. I put my hand on my chest to try to slow my heart. Then I leaned forward and rocked back and forth, rubbing my temples. Silence took over the apartment, and I breathed in and out. I couldn’t let her beat me, so I tried to watch the movie again. But I sat shaking on the sofa. What was she so upset about? It had to be more than us living in the apartment.

  Everything was fine for ten minutes. Then the mournful sound of her singing what sounded like a church hymn echoed through the heating vents. I couldn’t understand the words, but the tune caused my heart to ache. I put my hands to my ears and shook my head. No more! The pain was too great. I got up and shut off the television.

  I was dressed and running down the stairs in mere minutes. Henry was safely locked in my room, or at least I hoped so.

  As soon as I stepped outside, the rain hit my face, and I inhaled, bringing fresh air into my lungs. The humidity was gone, and the air was clean, and I just kept breathing. Relief washed over me—it felt good to be out of the apartment. I walked fast, going to the heart of the Glebe. I could browse through shops and hit my favorite used bookstore. That might take my mind off the woman in the apartment.

  The little bell rang when I entered the store, a musty little hole-in-the-wall, and I shook my head and wiped my face to get rid of the excess raindrops. Paperbacks lined the shelves and were crammed in every nook and cranny of the store.

  I walked down the aisles, not sure what kind of book I wanted to read next. As I passed the travel section, my feet stopped and I felt as if were stuck in the mud. A book on Scotland started pulsing in front of me, and I reached over to touch it. It felt hot.

  Could I travel on my own? Without John? Maybe not to England; that was our plan. But I could go to Scotland and visit the castles. That would be my plan. Lately, I’d been dreaming about ruins and castles and the word Scotland kept popping up in my head, almost as if it were calling to me. Was I supposed to go there? Could I go overseas without John?

  I picked up the book and flipped it open. It was only two dollars. Should I buy it? Was that why it had pulsed in front of me? Why not? It wasn’t like it was going to break my bank account.

  As I was walking toward the cashier with the book under my arm, another book stopped me short. This time it was a book on ghosts. My breathing became shallow. I had come to this store to buy a novel, so I could forget about Green Lady. For the second time since I entered the store, my feet just refused to move. I stood in front of the book and stared at it. There was a 50-cent sticker on the front. I didn’t give it time to start pulsing in front of me. I just picked it up and almost ran to the cashier.

  After paying for the books, I stepped outside into the rain. I had two hours to kill before Natalie came home from work, so I wandered through different stores in the Glebe, asking to see managers about jobs. Two asked me to fill out applications, which I did on the spot. I figured I could work days and get a part-time job at night too to save money. Once I had something in my savings account, I would start planning my trip. Trip. The word sounded exotic.

  Back at the apartment, I stood outside with my hand on the door of the building. I didn’t want to see her again. I glanced at the antique store, The Past Is Here, that was attached to our building, and when I saw the CLOSED sign, I sighed. I would have loved to have stalled for time and visited the owner, George, but he had gone out of town for a few days. Every time I went in the store, I was there for at least 30 minutes just chatting with George and sometimes his wife, Claire.

  If only I still smoked, then I could stand outside and have a cigarette and wait for either Sarah or Natalie to walk down the street so we could hike up the stairs together. At least the rain had subsided, so I wasn’t getting soaked as I stood on the street trying to figure out what to do.

  Finally I decided I had to go inside.

  As I plodded up our stairs, I could hear Natalie’s melodic voice singing a Celtic song, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She must have gotten off early. I stopped for a second just to listen, wishing that I could sing like her so I could go to a music school somewhere. I shook my head; every week I had a new idea about what I could do with my life.

  I entered the apartment, and Natalie stopped singing. I slipped out of my sandals and walked into the kitchen
. Henry lay at her feet. Sarah sat at the table reading a magazine. They must have both gotten off early.

  “How was work?” I asked.

  “Fine,” replied Natalie.

  “Stupid,” said Sarah. “I work in a grease pit.” She looked up. “How was your day?”

  “Good.” I held up my book on ghosts. “I got a new book.” I paused. Come on, Indie, you can do this. Talk to them. Tell them the apartment is haunted.

  “You bought a book on ghosts?” Natalie grimaced. “I don’t want to believe in ghosts.”

  “You’re such a wimp,” said Sarah.

  This was my chance. “Listen, you guys,” I started slowly.

  Suddenly, there was a sharp rap on the door. Sarah jumped up and bolted to the door. I’d never seen her move so fast.

  “Tyler.” Natalie gave me a quirky grin. “Again.”

  “In high school, she never ran for any guy,” I said. “They ran for her.”

  “I’d say someone is in love. Lucky girl,” said Natalie.

  “Ahh. She deserves it if she is,” I said. Cold air washed over me, and I wrapped my arms around my chest.

  “I wanna be in love,” moaned Natalie.

  I stuffed my book in my bag, knowing now that the conversation on love wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.

  Chapter Four

  “Where’s Juanita?” I whispered to Esther.

  Miles stood at the counter leering at me, and every muscle in my body tensed. The rain had ceased, the humidity was gone, and the sun shone in a clear cobalt sky, and I was trying to enjoy the weather. But with Miles staring at me, the day seemed dark and dreary. Again.

  “She quit,” lisped Esther.

  “Do you know why?” I stared at my room list, noticing that I had twice as many rooms to clean today.

  “Liver problems.”

  I immediately looked at her. Esther scratched her neck. “Liver’s got too much damn booze in it.”

  Liver and onions. That’s what I had heard in my head: liver and onions.