Ten

by Tia Fielding

  Makai considered this for a moment and blew into his hot coffee. He could understand Mr. Miller’s reasoning and wouldn’t mind having someone tell people when they were too far off the mark. Makai knew about gossip and how it spread and changed forms, until none of the story had any truth in it.

  He took a sip and looked at the old man. “My dad died when I was fifteen, and in a couple of years, my brother was deep in the gang stuff. I tried to keep my mom afloat, mostly. Worked and went to high school and such.”

  Mr. Miller nodded with genuine sympathy in his gaze. “Sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks.” Makai drank some more coffee, trying to form the words he needed to. “I was dating this girl then, and I was going to meet her one night. This was when I’d just turned twenty. Anyway, I walked the usual route through her neighborhood and came across one of the better-known gang guys bleeding out in an alley.” Makai hated how his mind tried to take him back to that moment. He cleared his throat and forced himself to continue. “I tried to see if there was anything to do. That was my first instinct. There wasn’t, he was dead, but not… it’d been recent. Anyway, someone else came by, called the cops, and they took me in. By then, the local precinct knew who I was. Not because I’d been in trouble, but because my brother had been, and I’d picked him up and such, when he got thrown in jail.”

  Mr. Miller nodded slowly. “So, they saw a kid who knew gangs, and that was it?”

  “Yeah. Apparently there was enough evidence somehow. The detective working the case was this horrible old man who….” He couldn’t make himself say the words, explain it more. Not when his heart was already on overdrive and his whole being was trying to nudge him into flight-or-fight.

  “One of those racist bastards?”

  Makai snorted bitterly. “Oh yes.”

  “Somehow they convicted you and you went to prison,” Mr. Miller prompted when Makai stayed quiet for a bit too long.

  “Right. I was supposed to serve twenty years. They made an example out of me, I think. It was… I guess I just decided to adapt to the situation. I knew there was no way out for me, so I took things as they came, and….”

  They drank coffee in silence, until eventually Makai could calm his heartbeat enough to not feel like he was dying when he spoke.

  “The old bastard retired, and someone looked into some of his old cases for whatever reason. There were several of them that seemed… off, somehow. Turns out he’d planted evidence in some cases and made some disappear in others.”

  Mr. Miller cursed under his breath. “Dirty cops… should be shot, each and every one of them.”

  “Don’t disagree with you there.” Makai looked out of the window. It looked like a private parking lot and a patch of garden were the only things there. “In my case he’d bypassed some DNA evidence. Completely chose to ignore it and hid it just in case. Turns out the guy who did the killing was part of my brother’s gang. Also turned out—and remember this was ten years into my sentence—that I’d been basically set up by my girlfriend, because she had the hots for the guy who killed the other guy.” It still stung to think of her, even as a side note, so he chose not to. She didn’t exist, as far as Makai was concerned. Hadn’t since her letters had stopped coming altogether after his first few months inside.

  Mr. Miller let out an ugly hissing sound, but Makai knew it wasn’t directed at him.

  “Without the DNA evidence, I could’ve rotted in jail for the duration, or maybe I would’ve been paroled at some point. But anyway, they nailed the right guy, let me out, gave me a settlement, and here I am.”

  Those were the bare bones of the story. All he wanted to tell, more than he wanted to remember, for sure.

  “I’m so sorry it happened to you, truly am. Never would’ve guessed that’d happen to you or your brother. How is he these days?”

  Makai sighed quietly. “He’s been in the gang for almost fifteen years now. Been in prison couple of times for stuff he definitely did do. He’s got a few kids with different women. Lives the gang life. He’s my brother, but the Nakoa that existed when our dad still lived is long gone. I don’t keep in touch with him at all.”

  “Don’t blame you. Sometimes you gotta make your own family. Choose people you want to call that. Make something out of worthy folks, not the ones who share your blood.”

  Makai nodded, feeling a bit choked up. He knew this, knew about chosen families, but he hadn’t had people to choose to bring into his. Not really. The closest had been a cellmate he’d had for two years, who had then been released after his time was served a few years back. Kaos had been a good kid, not innocent, but the crimes that had put him in prison had been committed out of desperation.

  Kaos had written to Makai a few times, but Makai had told him to live his life. If his friend was still out there, he’d be twenty-six now. Makai hoped he was alive and on the straight and narrow like he’d promised in his last letter.

  “Well, I know Benny was as good of a grandpa as he knew how to be. His family… they weren’t very demonstrative. I don’t think your mother ever heard she was loved or anything. But if you need an ear, I’ll be here, at least until my ticker signs out for good.” Mr. Miller tapped his chest and smiled wryly.

  Makai nodded again, feeling like he should say something but couldn’t.

  “Though, if you come across that Frankie Matthews again, be a bit cautious. He’s got a temper and a racist streak a mile wide. Most people probably see you as whatchamacallit these days, white-passing? Or maybe Hispanic or something. To folks like him, you’re black as Obama.” The twinkle in Mr. Miller’s eyes told Makai that he knew Obama was biracial, much like Makai, and that he also knew racists didn’t care either way.

  He chuckled and downed the rest of his latte. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said finally.

  “Your grandpa liked the old bar we had across the road. It burned down and now the Fieldses have it above the diner. I’m not sure if you remember the last time you were here?”

  Makai shook his head. “All I remember is missing the old house and the lake.”

  “You and your brother spent one afternoon in the shop when Benny went to the bar for a drink and forgot he had you. I called your mother after a few hours. Thought you were safer at home than with Benny when he was drinking.” The old man got up and scratched the back of his neck. “I guess things went different than I thought. She didn’t let you come by after that.”

  “Likely my dad didn’t. He had some family issues. I’ve never met any of his family. They’re mostly back in Hawai’i, or so I think. All I know for a fact is that he had a big family and was all about leaving them behind and starting his own.”

  Mr. Miller tsked. “Your mom still alive?”

  “Yeah. She lives in a different neighborhood but the same town. Is a grandma to Nakoa’s kids when they come by. I gave her a bit of money and left town as soon as I could after getting out and going back there to see her.”

  “Might be the best thing you could’ve done, kid. And don’t worry. I’ll try to keep the locals in check a bit.” They shuffled Mr. Miller’s speed back to the shop. “If you need anything, just holler.”

  “Oh, one thing,” Makai remembered. “A cat came by the house. Seems to think she lives there now. Very pregnant gray thing. If anyone’s missing one, can you let them know I have her?”

  “Sure, sure. Could be a stray, though. Some campers at the campsite ‘lose’ their pets when they leave.” The expression on Mr. Miller’s face told Makai all he needed to know what the old man thought of such practices. “You could go to the clinic. Doc Donovan is a good man. Might want to check her out anyway, and he’d know if she’s local.”

  “Good thinking, thanks,” Makai said, and then a middle-aged man came in and seemed to want Mr. Miller’s attention, so Makai bowed out and went to get a basket for his groceries.

  He ended up needing a cart because he found the pet section in the back of the store and realized all the things he needed to ge
t for the cat. Food that cost a lot to buy but would probably last her for a while—he also got some extra meat, trying to tell himself her babies needed the extra nutrition right then—along with a litterbox, kitty litter, a bunch of toys, and yes, a cat carrier.

  When he got to the front of the shop, Mr. Miller was manning the cash register and his eyes twinkled at Makai.

  “You ain’t gonna give her back, are you?”

  Makai grinned sheepishly. “Depends on whose she is. I mean, she could just be lost. She’ll still need this stuff, so….” He ducked his head and packed his groceries and all the cat things while Mr. Miller chuckled at him.

  A former convict, biracial, bisexual, and now the fucking resident cat guy.

  HE LUGGED everything into the truck and drove to the cottage he was trying to start calling home. The cat, somehow, made it homier. As if the fact that there was another breathing being there made all the difference in the world for the feel of the house.

  It helped, in a way, to have her there. Being completely alone reminded Makai too much of what he’d gone through in prison those two times he’d been put into solitary. At first, it had been okay. He’d wanted to be alone. But when you were in solitary, that was exactly what you were and became. Having nothing and no one around started to feel suffocating sooner than one would think, at least it had for Makai. No matter what the situation had been to make them put him in there, he’d wanted out sooner than they’d wanted to let him.

  He put away his groceries and talked—bribed—the cat into the carrier. He knew the clinic was open, he’d checked the sign on the place’s door, and started back toward town with the cat on the passenger’s seat. He really, really needed a smartphone and a laptop. Internet connection was a thing he needed as well. He would have to make a list of things like that soon. It was always the less tangible things he tended to forget.

  The cat stayed quiet, not nervous at all, it seemed, and Makai wondered if it was because he’d put one of his T-shirts into the carrier for her. So far, based on one night they got along really well, she seemed to like him. He hoped this visit to the cat doc wouldn’t change that for the worse.

  He parked in front of the clinic and picked the soft carrier up. He felt like the cat probably could’ve torn her way through the thing if she’d chosen to do so, but she peered out through the netting in a curious yet calm way.

  Inside the clinic, there was a small waiting room with a front desk by some doors that obviously led to the back.

  There was nobody in the front, but the bell above the door—a nice lower tone instead of a harsh clear ring, probably to spare the pets’ ears—rang, so Makai set the carrier on a chair and looked around the little room.

  There were posters on the walls, each containing different kinds of information from spay and neuter to vaccinations to breeds to breeding.

  The door to the back opened, and a handsome middle-aged man stepped out. “I’m so sorry if I kept you waiting. I had some paperwork that needed doing, and I didn’t want to leave in the middle of the last page,” he explained in a breathless tone and peered up at Makai. “Hi, I’m Doctor Donovan, but everyone here calls me Doc.” The man gave Makai a genuine enough smile, and Makai shook the offered hand.

  “Makai Stone, new in town,” he said, smiling back. “And we just got in, so no worries.” He tilted his head toward the carrier. “Two nights ago was my first night in town, and I got immediately adopted by a cat.”

  Doctor Donovan let out an amused huff. “All right, so a checkup, or…?”

  “Well that, and I want to figure out if she belongs to anyone. She’s, well, you can look for yourself.” Makai got the carrier, and the doc ushered him through to the back.

  “I don’t have an assistant every day, so if you don’t mind, you can help me out with her?”

  “Oh, absolutely fine. Can’t be too busy here daily?”

  “No, I’m open four days a week and have an assistant on two. That’s barring emergencies. I’m always on call for those.”

  Makai put the carrier on a high table and opened it carefully. The doors were closed, and the examination room didn’t have windows, so he let the cat step out on her own.

  Doc Donovan whistled quietly. “That’s one pregnant kitty.”

  Makai laughed and blocked her way with his hand. “Yep. Does she look familiar?”

  “No, never seen her before. She’s really tame, though, which would suggest she hasn’t been alone for long.” He reached a hand for the cat, letting her sniff him, and she headbutted his fingers gently. “Yeah, friendly feline…. Where did you say you found her?”

  “Oh, I bought the old Berg cottage, if you know where that is? On Maple Hill Road?”

  Doc thought for a while, then frowned. “You know, the road that connects to Maple Hill goes through to the camping site eventually. Might be she’s been left by campers.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Miller said the same thing.”

  Doc started to check the cat through, and she let him do pretty much anything, even when he pressed on her stomach gently on different spots.

  “Is it many or just a few big ones?” Makai asked, scratching under her chin to keep her purring and happy.

  “It feels like bigger kittens.” Suddenly it seemed like something clicked for the doc, and he looked up from the cat. “She’s too small to have kittens this big in her, unless the sire is really large, and I know just who to call about that.” There was a certain snap in his tone, and Makai’s eyes widened a bit as he watched the man pick up a cell phone from the nearby counter.

  “Mary, this is Doc, hi,” he started, and slowly but pointedly paced across the room. “Yes, I have a question for you. You did get Archie neutered when you took him to Mercer for those extensive blood tests, right?”

  Makai could tell what the answer was when a vein on the vet’s forehead started to throb.

  “Right. Well, I’m ninety percent sure that he’s been outside and knocked up a stray, Mary. So once these kittens are born, and they’re part ginger and long-haired, I will be sure to give the cat’s new owner your number. You get to help him rehome the kittens to good, responsible homes.”

  Makai looked at the man, half-horrified, half-amused. The cat had sat down on the table and watched the proceedings with Makai, as if she too was interested in what was going on.

  “Do not ‘little brother’ me, Mary. We had a deal, and you fucked up. Do not expect me for dinner on Sunday.” He all but threw the phone on the counter, then took a few deep breaths before turning to Makai. “I’m so, so sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. Family, right?” Makai shrugged in what he hoped was a casual way, and the subtle aggression hadn’t poked at his PTSD at all.

  Doctor Donovan wiped his forehead and nodded with conviction. “My sister. She has a handful of these massive Norwegian Forest cats, Ragdolls, or mixes. Only one male hasn’t been neutered, and it’s….” He went back to the cat and petted her as he continued the examination.

  “Do you think she might have trouble with them if they’re so big?” Makai felt scared all of a sudden.

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I think she’s pretty close to giving birth, so it shouldn’t take weeks of you watching her every movement, but I’d keep her inside until the kittens arrive. When she goes into labor, and you can’t miss it, you just have to call me. I’ll come by to check on her if it looks like the labor takes too long. I’ll print out some general notes if you need them?”

  “Yes, please. I’ve never had a pet before, so I know nothing about this stuff.”

  “As long as you know help is always here. I live outside town a bit, opposite way from you, so if I’m off duty, we can even meet up halfway here at the clinic.”

  They talked about vaccinations and deworming and whatnot, and Doctor Donovan took care of all the things they could right then. He asked if Makai wanted to get an X-ray to see how many kittens there were, but in the end, he decided not to. It wouldn’t make a difference, as l
ong as they were all okay once born.

  The doc went and printed him a few pages of “What to expect when your cat is expecting,” and gave them to him. Then they went to settle the bill for that visit in the front, the cat firmly in the carrier.

  “What do you call her?” Doc asked as he was putting Makai’s information into the system.

  “No idea yet,” he confessed.

  “There’s no rush. I’ll mark her as gray female for now, if that’s okay?”

  “Sure.” Then something occurred to him. “Hey, why is there a human on the sign?”

  Something on Doctor Donovan’s face changed for just a moment, and then he looked at Makai sadly.

  “My husband used to run a health clinic for people, so when we moved here, we put together a clinic for both animals and humans, just separated by a wall.” He glanced quickly at the wall that must’ve been the dividing one. “He passed away three years ago very suddenly. I haven’t had the heart to change the sign.”

  Makai nodded, feeling bad for asking now. “Sorry for your loss,” he said in a serious tone.

  He felt like he should’ve outed himself somehow, just out of solidarity, but he couldn’t find a neat way to fit it into the conversation, and then the moment was over anyway.

  “Thank you. So, here’s your total for this visit,” the doc said and took a paper out of the printer.

  Makai paid, took a business card with the information for the clinic on it, and his cat, and promised to call as soon as there was news.

  “And I swear my sister will help you find a home for the kittens. She’s a good woman, loves cats, just….”

  “Yeah. I get it. Thank you, though. We’ll see how it goes.” Makai smiled at the man.

  They said bye, and Makai headed home with the purring feline in tow.

  THE NEXT morning, Makai decided to trim the grass around the house. He left the cat inside so as not to scare her, and used the scythe—boy was that a learning curve—to get the worst and then the weedwhacker for the rest. Then he took the ancient-looking lawnmower and managed to get it to work enough to mow the yard, before it promptly sputtered to a halt and died.