by Pete Lockett
I thought it would be strangely green or infra red, like a bizarre night time action commando movie,” thought the cat, glad that the whole night scene was not like one big green and black inverted photographic image. He made his way down to the barbeque area, jumped up onto the wall, onto the small fence and finally leapt to the heights of the big long fence that ran along the back of all the gardens. He was astonished at how his feet just instantly found their footing, even on the top of the thin fences and in the evening light. It was so instinctual that it felt like someone was doing it for him without having to worry himself. His tail counterbalanced him from behind, compensating with incredible effectiveness every time his body twisted, turned or jumped. He really felt like the perfect night creature, superbly balanced and intricately aware of his environment. He skipped along confidently, wondering at how marvellous the gardens looked with this new cat vision. He was silently enjoying being a cat.
He proceeded along the fence, dancing one paw in front of the other in a satisfying quarternity of movement, past the strange old man’s garden and those of his neighbours. At the end, there was a tall wooden post crowned with a small, flat, piece of wood. He jumped up onto it, the area being just big enough for all four paws to arrange themselves and balance him proudly on top. He looked around and saw down to the right a small pond surrounded by tiny bushes and shrubs. He jumped down and sat beside the water’s edge, next to a small solar powered lantern flickering on and off as if the batteries were on their last legs.
Why can’t they get it right? he thought, as he sat alert, mesmerised by the beautiful calm silence all around. He stared up at the clear starry sky and the sharply focused three quarters moon. It was indeed a thoroughly beautiful night.
Maybe this is the lesson right here. What’s wrong with this? No ambition, no obligations, no worries, no stress, no bills, no arguments and no anxieties. Maybe this is enough. Why should I change anything? I get fed, have a warm place to sleep, gardens to roam in, extreme agility, night vision and ridiculously good balance. This ticks a whole load of boxes that are definitely not ticked for a lot of humans. Why should I want to go back to that?
Ed mused on his position, slightly surprised how quickly he had adjusted to the whole thing and how he had come to terms with being dead.
Sure, I miss how things were, but if I move on from this incarnation, there would probably be elements of it I would miss.
Ed moved over to the water’s edge. He could see his reflection clearly as he moved his head over the calm water, stretching out his right forward paw and disturbing the mirror water surface. It erupted into a thousand ripples, moving outwards from the point of impact, breaking his reflection into a million quivering segments.
That sums it up. The reflection is as temporary as me. One little point of aggression and the whole thing shatters.
He stood up and moved around the small pond, mesmerised to see how one tiny point of impact caused so many ripples. His mood swung left and then right, one minute marvelling at being a cat and the next being distraught at not being his old self. As he moved around the pond, the surface underfoot changed from a soft mown grass to a loose shingle made up of tiny stones. Each paw sank smoothly into the shallow shingle as he moved forward creating a mesmerising sound, reminding him of the seashore and the stony beaches of the south coast. He continued reflecting on his situation, his tail adding to the soothing sound by brushing to and fro in the pebbles.
It’s all well and good enjoying these animal attributes at the moment but what will they be worth if I stay around and lose any self awareness? Would there be any value in it or would I be merely surviving? What would looking up at the sky mean? How would I be able to appreciate night vision or different foods, even the warmth of the blanket? How vital is the ‘I’ in all this to have a fulfilling existence?
Ed pondered pond side for a few more minutes before moving on through some loose bushes and into an open area of ground. Just then he began to notice an evocative smell, romantic, alluring and lust worthy. He stopped in his tracks, looked around and caught sight of a bush just twenty or so meters away shaking slightly, as if an animal was entangled in it. He immediately wandered over and could hear a small whimpering noise, attractively feline. His whiskers got more sensitive than ever, almost throbbing with intensity, willing him towards his objective.
As he got closer he could see a beautiful, white, furry moggie, about the same size as him. It stared out of the bush cautiously with its tempting vulnerable eyes, longing for help. He moved in closer still and realised it was caught on some thorns. He moved around to the side and gave the cat a firm push with his strong front paws. Out it popped, like a pea from a pod landing gently on the short grass to the side. It immediately jumped up, shook itself down, went over to Ed and began nuzzling him. The cat smelt wondrous, Chanel and Dior all in one. The fur was super fluffy and brilliant white with the black nose standing out prominently like a big button.
That answers that question. I definitely fancy cats, thought Ed, realising that it was indeed a female feline.
The two cats circled one another with curiosity and intrigue. Ed was mesmerised and enchanted. She smelt irresistible and held herself with such grace and pride. She gave off an odour that penetrated deep into his instincts, stirring up a primeval archetypal lust, full of instinctual longing.
“Well I’m guessing that you are not a Transient, you young feline goddess,” breathed Ed as he sniffed and nuzzled in her fur as she gave him the once-over.
“Meooowww, meoowww,” replied the cat.
That rules conversation out then. Well many a relationship has worked on scant communication anyway so I don’t see why this one can’t. Besides, what would we be doing wasting time talking anyway, he reflected, losing his breath with desire but letting his thoughts run away with him.
I wonder if this constitutes unfaithfulness with Abella? After all, I am dead and a completely different species. It hardly bodes well for our future together. Oh well, onward and upward. I’m beginning to realise more than ever with this whole situation that I have to go with the flow. Jump in at the deep end and experience everything I can as an animal, thought Ed, as the female cat gave him a perfect view of her behind.
“What shall I call you, Miss?” queried Ed.
“I know, I’ll call you Kinky because I’m sure it’s kinky for me to be having my wicked way with a cat.”
Kinky shook and ruffled her body, put her head down and gave a very clear signal to Ed regarding her objectives. She started grunting sweetly and moved backwards towards him provocatively.
I don’t think I’m going to need an instruction manual here, thought Ed, as he looked down startled to see he had a slightly barbed member.
“Here we go,” he exclaimed as he mounted her from behind, instinctually biting her gently but firmly on the back of her neck before taking a more predictable course of action. It was a passionate but brief process involving a lot of screaming and yelling, especially once the job was complete. Before he could consider what had just happened Kinky was off into the bushes and away on her own into the distance.
“I suppose a cuddle is out of the question then?” exclaimed Ed ironically as her white fluffy tail bounced out of sight. The whole process completely drained him and he headed back to the house, shaky legs and all.
“That was absolutely one of the best orgasms ever. Forget tantric foreplay, this was the real deal. Sex in the wild. I’m learning more and more every day.”
Ed zapped back past the pond, up onto the fence, past the gardens, along the path and back through the plastic cat flap into Frank and Ali’s. The kitchen felt warm after being outside as he popped himself into his basket and onto the soft blanket. Soon the morning had come but Ed just slept right through. Even the noises and murmurings of father and son preparing their breakfasts and heading out into the day did little to stir him and he slept on into the afternoon. The previous evening had been exhausting, the information about his
death, wild sex with a white furry pussy and everything else that had gone on. He really was in a strange dreamland.
***
When he finally woke, he wandered from the kitchen, through the living room and up the wooden stairs, partly covered with a strip of maroon carpet with three or four inch gaps either side, revealing an old stained wood. It felt very unsettling being in someone else’s house, getting a glimpse of their most private activities, lifestyles and habits.
I shouldn’t be too nosey, thought the cat, as he cantered and danced up the stairs, around two ninety degree bends and up to the landing where the carpet changed to a clashing grey colour with small beige diamonds. It looked hideous, all the more so because of the threadbare texture around the most used parts. Frank was obviously not a millionaire.
The landing at the top was tiny with off-white painted wood chip wallpaper and three scruffy painted doors, two of which were closed. He soon steered a course towards the only open door and through into a small room. It was well lived-in and scantily furnished, square with one medium-sized bay window with half-closed green and gold curtains tentatively hanging on fewer curtain rings than they should. They cast an eerie light across the room, which combined with the grey wallpaper made it feel quite dismal and despairing. The double bed had one set of pillows which were ruffled and disturbed on one side only. The blankets and sheets lay discarded on the unused side, tossed over by an individual obviously in a hurry to get up and out.
He jumped up onto the bed, skipped over the crumpled cloth and over to the neater side. A small framed picture was all that adorned the bedside table, a thin gold coloured frame and a picture of a plain but pleasant looking young lady. Above the photo in simple and plain handwritten text were the words;
RIP Sammy. We will love you as wife and mother forever. Frank and Ali.
Ed sat looking at the picture, at the sweet blue eyes, the straight brown hair, the slightly pug nose and less than perfect skin. Not a stunner, but there was something charming and kind about her, an innocence and purity. Not an ounce of nastiness in the face, an uncut diamond.
He sprang down off the bed, through onto the landing and down the stairs with the speed of a kingfisher.
It’s too sad. Frank and Ali seem so sweet. It must be terrible for them, thought Ed, as he came to rest in the middle of the living room.
The lock on the front door rattled and clunked as if a fat-fingered fool was trying hopelessly to find the hole. Finally there was a satisfying, ‘clunk’ and the door creaked open on its tired hinges. The cluttering of coats being arranged on an overcrowded rack in the hallway ensued, and then Frank entered with another man, small, wiry and completely bald. Ed jumped into his basket and sat upright with his front paws hanging over the raised side.
“Fucking hell, man, three and a half thousand pounds for insurance. That’s crazy. That’s ten pounds a day, plus twenty pounds a day to the cab company, petrol, MOT and tyres. They’re having a laugh. How can I even afford to do that job? I want to work but it is just not cost effective. I would lose money if anything, even working a six-day week.”
“Yeah, but you can’t be on benefits for ever, Joe. That’s just soul destroying.”
“I know, I don’t want to but what can I do? It doesn’t make sense. You would think that there would be an improvement in lifestyle for those that want to work, not a step down. Billy was telling me as well that he gets at least two traffic tickets a week; that’s a hundred and forty quid on top right there. That would wipe out any potential profit in the first place.”
The couple moved through into the kitchen, followed by Ed who took up residence in basket number two.
“Do you want a cuppa?”
“All right then, a quick one. I have to go in a minute.”
Frank took the kettle, spun the hinged lid open with his thumb and ran it under the tap, filling it and then placing it on the protuberant power receptacle for boiling. It soon started to chunter away in a manner that could relax even the most stressed in need of tea.
“Well he should park in the proper places.”
“It’s not like that. How can you pick up a passenger who lives on a street with a yellow line restriction? They order the car for their house, not two hundred yards up the road. Those fucking black cabs get away with it. They have their union and powerful lobbyists. Mini cabs have nothing. It’s ridiculous. Not even a fucking union. Why should I subject myself to that pain?”
“Why is the insurance so high?” queried Frank.
“She said I haven’t got a no-claims history. I told her don’t be stupid, I haven’t had a car or insurance for three years and therefore I have no claims. That must count as no-claims, doesn’t it?”
“Erm, it doesn’t work like that,” replied Frank as he poured the water into the teabag-laden cups. Soon he had squeezed all their juices out and added a minimal amount of milk into the cups before they headed into the living room and slumped into the sofa.
“How does it work then?”
“Listen, Joe, if you’re not going to do it, then let’s not waste time talking about it,” replied Frank, bored by his friend’s lack of intelligence.
“Yeah, fuck it. I’ll keep signing on for a while and do something else anyway. It’s just that I got the offer of that car for two hundred squids and thought it might be a good idea. I didn’t realise what a fucking nightmare it’d be.”
With this, the man greedily gulped down his tea and placed the completely empty cup on the carpet.
“Listen, Frank, sorry mate, but I have to go. Lizzy will fucking kill me if I’m late,” said Joe as he rose and headed towards the door.
“See ya,” said Frank, remaining seated.
“Yeah, see ya,” replied Joe as he pulled the front door open just as Ali arrived with outstretched key.
“Oh, hi, Ali. I’m off. Nice to see ya.”
“Yeah, nice to see you, Uncle Joe,” replied Ali as they passed each other and switched places, the door slamming shut between them more from carelessness than ignorance.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, Ali; the kettle’s boiled. I’ll have another cup,” exclaimed Frank as he polished off his last mouthful of liquid, just as there was a knock at the door.
“That’ll be Carter. Let him in, Dad, he’s going to mend the computer,” exclaimed Ali.
“Chrissake. Okay then,” replied his father begrudgingly before getting up and going to the front door to let in his friend.
“All right, mate. Come in. He’s in the kitchen,” said Frank as he let in the young track-suited hoodie.
Soon all three were tea in hand and Carter was at the computer clicking and scrolling.
“No problems here, mate. It’s running fine. Good to see you’ve put an anti virus on here last night. That will have solved a lot of it,” exclaimed the youngster.
“Antivirus? I didn’t put anything on there. I wouldn’t know how,” replied Ali, slightly confused.
“According to the history log on the computer you installed the software last evening at around 21.19, then you updated the virus definitions and deleted or quarantined 1246 viruses. Quite a handy bit of work. It was exactly what I was about to do. Why are you wasting my time getting me here to do it, for Chrissake?”
Carter was more than a bit pissed off as he spun round in the second-hand office chair.
“I didn’t. We were at the football then last night, weren’t we, Dad?” exclaimed Ali looking round at his dad.
“Yeah, we were, Carter. We went to the match. Maybe that damn machine is broken more than we first thought, bloody thing,” grunted Frank before getting back into his committed tea swigging.
“Well that’s what it says here and it does not lie. The system clock and date are correct. It definitely happened last night.”
“Maybe the anti virus is itself a virus. We left the computer on last night like you asked.”
“Antivirus? More like bloody antichrist if you ask me,” blurted his father.
“Whatever, dad! It’s important to me and I do lots on it so it needs to be right,” exclaimed Ali, getting only a grunt from his father in response.
“Well unless the cat suddenly started becoming computer literate then there’s no other explanation,” uttered Carter as he closed the application and went back to the desktop screen.
“Oh look, speaking of which, here’s a note from your cat.”
Carter had seen the word document Ed had typed the night before and saved to the desktop. He clicked on it and started reading it out as best he could with the typos, much to Ali’s amazement.
‘I amm aCat. My nsme is Ed, not friking Smunky. Whst is a Smmnky anyway? I am niot daftt or stuupid sndwould like to sit omn th sofa 3very now aand theen. I like th foopd you give me but I wa,mt more pleawse. Abnother thimg, you hsve comput3r problems b3cause you don’’tt hsve a proper anti virus instslled. If I hav3 time tomight, I will do thst for you. Llove. Ed’
Carter got more and more annoyed. “Right, this is a piss take. I can see that this document was created last night. I guess you’ve filmed making a fool of me for Facebook. Wanker! I’m off, and don’t ask for help again.”
Carter jumped up, leaving the cheap swivel chair spinning, and departed with haste through the room, down the corridor and out the front door, slamming it behind him. Ali was stunned and sat speechless whilst his dad looked on nonplussed.
“I don’t know what’s got into him, Dad. Why would he freak out like that? We told him we weren’t here last night. Did you muck about on the computer and mess anything up?”
