by M. A. Church
Next, my house started falling apart, and every appliance I owned stopped working. Of course they were out of warranty. That superstitious old saying about trouble comes in threes? Well, I was waiting for “number three” to show up and kick me in the balls at any time.
“Okay, cat, let’s go.” I pointed at the open door, finger not quivering, voice strong and steady. Cool, check me out. I sounded commanding. Authoritative. I even impressed myself.
The cat looked at me and flicked his tail. Then the damn thing shot out his back leg and started licking it.
“Seriously?”
The cat didn’t seemed half as impressed as I was with myself. Figures. I couldn’t even intimidate a stupid cat. Color me wuss. I shivered in the cold draft from the open door…. Shit, the door was still open. Heat gushed out while I tried talking a cat out the damn door. And he wasn’t having any of it, seemed like.
“Here, kitty, kitty.” Again I called to the cat, and again the cat ignored me. Okay, it appeared we were at a standoff. I nodded my head at the open door. The cat licked its balls. Alrighty, then. Guess that answered that. Ball licking won over stupid head nod any day of the week. I shut the door.
The cat stopped its grooming—and okay, maybe I was a little jealous—and stared at me. “Meee-ow!”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think a feline just told me off. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you. I guess you can stay inside. It is cold out there.”
Yup… wuss. Dammit, what was I doing? I said I wasn’t going to do this. The cat jumped off the table and walked over to me. Wow, it was big. And black. And wow, those were some freaky blue eyes for a cat. It rubbed against my leg and head-butted me—okay, I felt that—then made its way to the den and the fireplace.
“Meow!” The cat made a couple of circles, tail held high—hello, that was a rather large set of balls—stretched, then dropped down on a small rug in front of the hearth.
“Guess I’m not the only one who likes the fire, huh?” I sat and reached my hand out, letting it sniff me.
The cat gave me a quick lick. After I passed the taste test with fingers intact, I tentatively ran my hand down its back. Huh, he liked that, if his swishing tail was a clue. “Your fur’s soft. I wonder who you belong to, kitty.”
I petted him, enjoying the heat from the fire and the unique scent of burning wood. Purring reached me. Man, he sounded like a damn truck engine I used to have. Really loud and growly. I liked it. We sat there, me petting and him purring, until the heat made me sleepy.
“Guess I’d better get up and put the groceries away since I left them on the counter.” The cat followed me. He jumped on the counter and pawed at one of the plastic bags. I slipped my hand under the bag, making it rattle… and nearly lost a finger when the cat swiped at it.
“Whoa!” Newsflash—it wasn’t declawed.
“Rawl.” The cat went after the bag again, batting at the plastic, jumping and pouncing… and having entirely too much fun mauling it. The plastic made an odd sound and the cat fuzzed up, hissing. Then it pounced again. Damn. It was certainly a bloodthirsty thing. I caught myself snorting out a laugh, and the cat stared at me strangely. Could cats give strange looks? I’d swear this one just had.
“Okay, you killed the big, bad plastic bag, now how about backing off? I need to unpack the food without losing a limb.”
A yowl greeted my statement, but the cat stopped mangling the thing and sat down.
“I guess I shouldn’t let you on the counters, huh? I’ve never had a cat before.” I put up the stuff I bought, found an old bowl, filled it with water, and set it on the floor. Done with that, I opened a can of tuna.
“Meow, meeeow, meeooow.”
I laughed at the big, black ball of purring kitty that was trying to knock me down. I grabbed a small plate and dumped the contents on it. “Well, I think we have a winner. Smells good, huh?”
The purring was impressive.
I managed to get the plate to the floor, which he attacked vigorously. Wow, someone was hungry. While he ate, I fixed myself a ham and cheese sandwich. I ate along with my uninvited houseguest not far from me. Our meal passed quickly. While I cleaned up, he prowled the kitchen, sniffing every corner. I smirked at the occasional sneeze. I wasn’t what anyone would call a great housekeeper.
He followed me back to the living area and made himself right at home. I sat on the hearth, stoking the fire. I didn’t know much about cats, but he was a pretty kitty. I’d never seen eyes quite that color, much less seen one as big as him. He reminded me of those hybrid cats, the ones crossed with big cats…. Oh, what were their names? Savannahs? But minus the spots.
“So….”
He lifted his head and stared at me.
“Well, if you’re going to stay here, we need to do something about the bathroom situation. I don’t suppose you happen to know how to use the commode?”
All I got was a lazy flip of his tail as an answer. And damn, did he have a long tail.
“I guess not. I suppose that was too much to hope for. But we have to do something about a litter box for the night. Have any suggestions, Tiger?”
I received a yawn in reply. Good Lord, those were some extremely pointed teeth. Suddenly, I was having childhood flashbacks to Little Red Riding Hood.
“Meerow,” Tiger answered.
Never mind the children’s story. I had something more worrisome. “Oh shit, what have I done? Fuck me running, I just named you.”
Why in God’s name I named him Tiger, I couldn’t say. He certainly didn’t have the coloration of a tiger. In fact, he was black as night… and I wasn’t keeping him. This brought me back to the litter box situation. I didn’t have the money to waste on a box and a bag of litter, so it was time to get creative.
“Just because I named you doesn’t mean anything, got it? I think I have a large box around here somewhere. I can use that.” I stood. I was sure the box was in the shed. Out back. In the snow. In the cold. Damn. “Guess I can shred some newspaper and put that in the box. Kind of like potty training a puppy, right?”
I was actually impressed with my idea.
“Me-wow.”
And it seemed like I was the only one. That sounded like derision, plain and simple.
“Hey now, the alternative is me introducing you to the commode. There’s water in that, you know. Want to give that a whirl, buddy?”
The cat rose—an elegant move of power and strength—and I took a step back before I caught myself.
Flustered, I stomped to the door, grabbing my coat before bracing for the great outdoors. The damn thing eyed me as if I was fresh meat and he hadn’t eaten in a month of Sundays. I actually took another step back. What was that about? I was a hundred times bigger. But, for just a second, there had been a prick of something at the base of my neck. Was I scared of a cat? Intimidated? Wouldn’t that get my man card revoked in a hurry. Me, scared of a cat.
I threw open the door. Shit on a stick, had it gotten colder out here? The snow was starting to pile up. And here my dumb ass was out in it. I hurried to the shed and found the box. It should work for the short time the cat would need it, and I doubled-timed it back to the house, box clutched in my frozen hands. I paused on the landing to stomp the snow off my shoes and yanked open the door. The sooner I got my ass back where the heat was, the better. I was in such a rush, I nearly tripped over the white streak that flew pass me.
“What the…?”
There, next to the black cat, sat a completely white one. The color was probably why I didn’t see it in the first place.
“Mrrrw!”
I threw the box on the table. “Oh no. No, no, no.” What was this? A cat invasion? “No way! I’m not putting up two of you. No, dammit! One was bad enough, but two?” I crossed my arms over my chest, determined to stand my ground. “No.”
Snow drifted in from the open door as the stare-off continued.
The newcomer was slightly smaller than the black cat. They sat there, side by side. The black
one stared at me as if I were nuts for standing there with the door wide open. Then the white cat turned sad, weird blue eyes looking up at me, and made the most pitiful, heartbreaking meow I’ve ever heard from any creature.
“Shit.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Scrubbed my hands over my face. Huffed out a breath. Leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling. Counted to twenty, then counted to twenty again…. None of it helped. That piteous sound had ripped me in two.
I looked back at the two cats sitting there. It was awfully cold outside. “I’m the biggest wuss walking. Fine! You can stay too. God.” I stopped beating around the bush and shut the door.
It appeared that that old saying about “trouble came in threes” had just come true. First my partner dumped me, next everything in the house broke, and now…. Number three had showed up in the form of not one, but two cats—a double whammy.
Shit.
Talk about a cat-tastrophe. Oh, I was cracking myself up. Not.
The black cat strolled over to my pantry and jumped up to the middle shelf. After he investigated the lean contents, a can of tuna fell on the floor. The black cat jumped down, looked at the white cat, then nosed the food toward me.
“Seriously?” I shook my head. Well hell, it appeared the white cat was hungry… and I had two cats now.
Chapter 4
Kirk
GIVING UP, I fixed the new—newer—cat tuna. I received a quick ankle rub, and then it deserted me, tail held high. Well, look at that. White kitty was another male. He pounced on the food, licking up every morsel. The black sat back and let the white one have the entire dish. Huh. Maybe they were littermates. They seemed to know each other. Maybe they’d escaped from the same home. It was strange that one was completely black and one was completely white. I guess that was odd, though, honestly, I didn’t know. I watched the plate scooting across the kitchen floor. The cat had practically spit cleaned the thing.
“When was that last time you ate? Look, you get sick, I’m not going to be happy. Cleaning up cat puke isn’t my idea of a good time, Snowball.”
Tiger sat on the floor, staring at the white one. “Mmmmrrrh.”
The white cat looked up, whiskers twitching. “Meerow.” It stared at the black one, then returned to eating, but a bit more slowly.
I, on the other hand, stood frozen. “Fuck a duck, I just named you too.”
I seriously considered slamming my head on my not-so-lovely linoleum countertops. Wasn’t there some old saying about if you named something, it belonged to you? I hoped not, because now I’d gone and named both of them. Tiger and Snowball. It wasn’t the most creative use of names.
“Well, this is just fucking unbelievable. Like I don’t have enough problems, I just took on two more. I didn’t think I was a masochist, but I’m beginning to wonder.”
Both cats abruptly looked at me.
Well, that certainly got their attention. Must’ve been my tone or something. They continued to stare at me, and that funny, neck-prickling sensation raced across my body. I wished they’d stop eyeing me like that. I shifted from foot to foot, then frowned back at them. Damn if a couple of overly large felines were going to get the better of me. I crossed my arms over my chest and returned their stare.
I never was very good at that game. Of course I blinked first. “What?” I demanded.
Why were they still both staring at me like that? It was a little creepy how those weird blue eyes tracked my every move. I understood now why some people were afraid of cats… and I did a mental eye roll. Wow, it was possible I’d just passed wuss and headed into…. What came after being a wuss? Well, whatever it was, I was there.
“Okay, stop with the creepy stare thingy, guys. Please?”
Tiger blinked, then strolled over to me and rubbed against my leg, back arched. His rumbling purr floated up to me. When Snowball joined him, I had to laugh. They kept bumping into each other while rubbing against me.
Unexpectedly, Snowball stood on his back legs, his paws resting on my right thigh. “Mmmmeow.”
Those bright blue eyes gazed steadily at me. “What? You can’t possibly be hungry. But that does remind me. I need to clean that plate.” I was talking to them now as if they understood me. Yup, I was so fucked.
Snowball dropped down, and Tiger nudged him toward the living area. While they investigated, I washed the dirty dishes. Tiger chased Snowball through the house, swatting at his hind legs. Snowball shot through the living area and hauled ass to the kitchen, his claws clicking on the floor, tail held high. He made a lap through the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the tile. I stood there and just laughed.
A cold breeze skittered across the floor, persuading Snowball to change directions. He yowled playfully over his shoulder at Tiger, then ran under the kitchen table chairs, weaving his way through them, then took a hard right. His back end slid around, almost turning him in a full circle, and then he sprinted toward the den.
He ran full speed ahead, the other cat hot on his tail. A sudden, sharp turn took him around the coffee table. Tiger cut across the top of the table and launched himself at the white cat. Snowball pulled up short and then jumped straight up when Tiger landed in front of him. He swatted at Tiger, veered off to the side, and ran toward the bedroom, me following them. Snowball leaped on the bed, back arched, as Tiger landed beside him.
Snowball hissed, slowly fluffing up. Tiger prowled closer, eyes slitted. A flash of black, and then there was a blur of fur rolling around on the bed. Snowball rolled on his back, batting at Tiger above him. He managed to get his back legs under him and toss Tiger off him. Snowball ran to the edge of the bed and looked back, his tail swishing back and forth madly.
“Meooow,” Snowball purred mischievously, head cocked to the side.
“Rawl!” Tiger dropped to his belly, eyes following the tail wagging in front of him.
Another mad dash through the house ended with both cats in the half bath, Snowball pawing at the toilet paper while I watched. Alarmed, I moved forward to stop Snowball, but Tiger swatted his behind, this time not quite as playfully, then nudged Snowball out of the bathroom. Snowball followed Tiger into the kitchen and waited for Tiger to drink.
After they quenched their thirst, Snowball and Tiger dropped down in front of the fireplace. Tiger sat and cleaned his whiskers while Snowball lay down, his head resting on his paws. The fire popped and hissed. Tiger yawned and curled his paws under him. His eyes were just drifting closed when another cold breeze raked across his fur.
Tiger lifted his head, staring at the back door. “Meeeow.”
Snowball flopped onto his side, tail moving lazily behind him. “Meeow?”
“Well, that was fun.” Beer in hand, I played cat and flopped down on the couch. I’d glanced out the window in the kitchen while straightening up. It was still snowing hard. Nothing I could do about it, so I clicked on the TV. One hour left until midnight.
I leaned my head back against the couch. It looked as if I was ringing in the New Year alone this time. The two cats ambled over to me. Tiger jumped on the couch, turned in a circle a few times, and then flopped down next to my leg. He leaned against me, paws under him. Snowball claimed the other side. I drank my beer, watching as Snowball squirmed.
“Can’t you get comfortable?”
One ear twitched as he found a comfortable position.
Finally, he got still. The first thing I noticed was the heat these two put off. It was like having my own personal heaters. I sat up enough to swipe the remote off the coffee table—disrupting both cats, of course—then eased back against the couch. They expressed their displeasure with me by kneading my legs, turning circles again, and flopping back down. Once they arranged themselves—and me—in a satisfactory manner, the purring started. That was… nice.
I flipped between shows as I finished my beer. “Okay, boys, I need to get up.”
Tiger opened his eyes, yawned, then glanced at me. The look I received was nothing short of total exasperation. Nice,
I’d managed to annoy a cat. Things were looking up.
“Look, if I could levitate the beer in here, don’t you think I would? Now clear out, I’m getting up.”
Neither cat moved. Fine. I shifted on the couch, and sure enough, Tiger’s claws sank into my jeans, holding me captive for a few seconds. I got the message loud and clear: better bring back any goodies I wanted this time. I stood, and as I passed by Tiger, he reached out and lazily batted at me.
My mouth dropped. “You did not just…. Really? You swatted me?”
“Meeer.” Tiger stretched, one paw reaching out toward me again.
“Look, cat, if you want any more tuna, you’ll—” Snowball suddenly leaped off the couch and head-butted me. “What the hell, Snowball?” The white cat rubbed against my leg, back arched, tail held high. Then the bastard swatted me too.
“Whoa, tag teaming is against the rules.” I stumbled my way to the kitchen with Snowball weaving in and out of my feet. “Jesus, kitty, you can not do this. You’ll have me on my ass in no time. Especially if I’m drunk.” And I totally intended to get drunk tonight.
Snowball let out a sharp little meow, then left me to check out the water bowl.
Shaking my head at him, I opened the refrigerator door, grabbed another beer, and popped the top. “Guess I’d better hit the john if there’s going to be this much complaining when I try to get off the couch.”
The half bath was closer, so I used that. Now that I was staring at the commode, I was dying to piss. I lifted the seat, unbuttoned, and pulled out my…. And suddenly there was an itch between my shoulder blades. I hunched my back, my body tensing. Chill bumps raced over my skin. What the fuck? Holding my cock loosely, I gradually turned my head… and met freaky blue eyes watching me.
