Black Cat Crossing

by Fitz Molly

  “Yep,” he said with his mouth full.

  “Do I go around taking pictures of people cheating on their spouses and force them to pay me on threat of exposure?” I asked. Why would I do such a despicable thing? That couldn't be right. Maybe his kitty vocabulary was broken.

  “You don’t have to try so hard. You’re an ultra-empath witch. As soon as you touch someone, meaning skin-to-skin contact, you instantly know anything you want to know about them, like their deepest, darkest secrets, or their entire life history or exactly what they’re thinking and feeling,” he explained.

  That seemed like a pretty lame power. If I wanted to know something, I could follow someone’s social media accounts. Nobody hid anything anymore. The internet was teeming with tons of boring stories, vlogs and podcasts. Could I look at any more pictures of what someone ate for breakfast? Flying around on a broomstick or moving objects with my mind would’ve been way better witch powers.

  “Are there any other witches like me?” I wanted someone else to clarify how my powers worked and better yet, how to trade them in for something better.

  “There used to be. But now, it’s just you,” he replied.

  “What happened to the other ultra-empaths?” I asked.

  The cat drew his kitty paw across his neck before falling down and playing dead.

  “Thank you for that visual,” I said.

  “Just sayin’. You can’t tell anyone you’re an ultra-empath. Ultra-empaths are the only magic other witches fear,” he said.

  “Is that because I can hear talking cats? And is it just cats or all animals? Like, if we go to the zoo, am I shooting the breeze with the giraffes and elephants?” I asked.

  “All witches can communicate with animals, not just you,” he said.

  “Then why would people fear me if we can all do the same thing?” I asked.

  “Don’t you get it? Other empath witches are weak and wimpy in comparison to you. Their empath powers are like a horse and buggy whereas yours are like a rocket ship. You’re the most powerful witch that has ever existed in a thousand years. And the only witch in the world who can do permanent mind control and steal powers from others. You’re like Professor X on steroids.”

  “So what kind of mind control can I do? Do I steal people’s ATM pins and wipe out their bank accounts?” I asked. That would explain the fresh stack of bills in my wallet, which seemed crisp and newly issued.

  “No. Well, I guess technically yeah, you could; but you prefer getting the read on silly human stuff like knowing they murdered their great aunt in order to collect their inheritance early or that they stole the Mona Lisa from the Louvre,” he said.

  “And then I force them to pay me or risk exposure?” I asked.

  The cat nodded yes.

  “Why hasn’t anyone reported me or tried turning me in?” I asked. That would be the logical next step.

  “You only target the humans and wipe all their memories of you away afterwards,” he said. “They couldn’t report you even if they wanted to.”

  Was this karma? After wiping out so many other people’s memories, now I managed to erase my own?

  He flicked the Sakara Knows charm on my keychain that was hanging on a loop outside my purse. “Yep. Sakara knows.”

  If this were a dream, maybe I should stay here. The other Sakara sounded like a pretty terrible person. What kind of a villain was I? I was like a magical Mafia collections agent on a paper route and apparently, quite proud of it, judging by the keychain. I stripped it off the keyring and threw it out the window.

  “Well, I’m no longer that person. I’m changing officially as of now. I am only going to do good things and use my ultra-empath powers to help people,” I said.

  The cat started laughing.

  “Why are you laughing at me?” I asked.

  “Is littering part of your new good deeds agenda?” he asked.

  “Oh, right,” I said, jumping out of the car to pick up the Sakara Knows charm before depositing it into a metal recycling bin.

  Chapter Five

  I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through the contacts. A ton of random names were in there but the only one with any personal affectation on it was Cousin Ava Decker. In fact, she was the only Decker in the entire phone, which kind of scared me. Where were all the other Deckers, specifically, my parents?

  I googled Ava Decker. Luckily, she was all over the internet with her cupcake shop, Frosted Misfortunes. It was only a thirty-minute drive from my house so we must’ve spoken frequently if she lived that close.

  I called her. She sounded pleasant enough when she answered.

  “Hey, Ava, it’s your cousin, Sakara Decker,” I said. Why did I use my surname? We had the same last name. She was my cousin. Of course, she knew my last name. And how many people were named Sakara? I was still baffled by that. What a weird name to give to a child.

  “Ohmigosh, are you okay? Wow, we’ve been looking for you forever. Are you still in Georgia?” she asked.

  “Georgia? I’m right here in Clover Creek,” I said.

  “You are? I wish I’d known you were coming to town. I would’ve picked you up at the airport,” she said. “Where are you staying? I’ll come to you. Or you can stay with me. I know my parents would love to see you, as well.”

  This brought up more questions than answers. Did we hate each other? Why didn’t I tell her I lived in the same town? She sounded surprised that I called her. How long had I been living in that huge house without contacting my cousin or my aunt and uncle? And more importantly, why would I choose to live somewhere that was so hot, humid and backwards as Georgia? Georgia was the armpit of the world.

  “When you say you haven’t heard from me in forever, how long exactly has it been since we spoke last?” I asked.

  “Give or take maybe ten years?” she answered as a question.

  “Why haven’t we spoken in ten years?” I asked.

  “You don’t remember?” she asked.

  “Ava, I have amnesia,” I answered. I planned to save the brain damage part and the talking cat for later or possibly never. I didn’t want her to hang up on me when I needed answers. “I don’t remember you or anything about myself or my life. I had to check my driver’s license to learn my name and when I was born. I only called you because I saw your name in my phone as being another Decker.”

  “You’re not really intending to see your cousin right now?” asked the cat.

  “Why not?” I asked, proceeding to put the car into first gear and head out to Ava’s.

  “You said she’s a boring goody-two shoes. Take me home first. It’s my birthday and I need a birthday nap,” said the cat, subtly flaring his kitty nails to indicate he was ready to destroy something.

  “No. I want to meet someone who actually knows who I am,” I said.

  The loudest kitty roar in history bellowed out of the black cat as he jumped up and proceeded to make a small bird’s nest out of my hair with his claws. I slammed on the brakes, pulled him off and flipped him upside-down, cradling him in my arms like a baby. No more doormat amnesia girl. I was done being pushed around and no longer scared of a four-legged, furry bully.

  “Listen here, birthday boy, we are going to my cousin Ava’s. She has a ton of cinnamon roll cupcakes, as many as you can possibly eat, so you can quietly sit and watch the rest of Paw Patrol or else I’m sticking you in the trunk. We did everything you wanted and now we’re going to do what I want.”

  He looked as surprised as a black cat can while expressing shock. Even though he deserved it, I felt like a big meanie when he didn’t counter my intentions with something evil or resume his attack on me, so I added, “Please and thank you.” I gently set him down on the passenger side and placed his iPad in front of him.

  “Fine. But they better be fresh and I want extra frosting and then some,” he said, flicking the iPad on.

  “My tests were negative for anything bad and I’m perfectly healthy, in case you were wondering,”
I said. I didn’t know why but I was annoyed that my subconscious didn’t have a cat that cared about my well-being as much as his stomach.

  “I already told you. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You gave yourself amnesia,” he said.

  Jeez. I didn’t know which was worse: my lame inability to get over a man who dumped me or knowing I was starting to believe the cat.

  “Why are we driving? Don’t I have a broom or something better that we can fly around on?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious. Couldn't everyone fly in their dreams? Especially if they made themselves a witch in it.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Good one.”

  “No, seriously, don’t I have any other special powers?” I asked.

  “Cupcakes first, answers second.” He redirected his attention back to the iPad and sprawled out on the bucket seat next to me.

  I did not demand an answer because he had a good point. All the talk about cupcakes was making me hungry, too. I couldn't remember the last time I’d eaten one. Literally, if ever.

  Chapter Six

  Frosted Misfortunes was absolutely adorable from the exterior. It had a classic pink and white candy-striped canopy awning out front. I spotted a cute, little ruddy kitten bouncing around the front ledge playing fetch with a small, red ball. I hoped this one didn’t talk, too. At first glance, this kitten seemed way nicer than the black cat sitting next to me.

  I walked in among a bevy of families in costumes and clusters of children giggling and laughing. I instantly assumed it was the typical, small town, beloved bakery. A skyscraper woman with long, wavy brown hair came bouncing around from the back and opened the door for us. I recognized her as my cousin Ava from the website. I couldn’t remember what I looked like but I knew I was five-foot-ten according to my driver’s license. The Deckers must be a family of tall people. She looked at least my height or taller. As she came closer, I saw that we were both the same eye level in height.

  Before I could say anything, she pulled me in for a big bear hug and swayed us from left to right without letting go. It felt nice but totally foreign to me, like I’d never done it before. Oddly, being attacked by the cat felt much more natural. I caught a glimpse of our reflection in the window and we looked like two giant giraffes rocking back and forth.

  “Sakara, I’m so glad you’re here. You must have so many questions. Come on in and we’ll figure everything out together,” she said, pulling me further inside. Then she did it all over again but this time, it was a side hug since I was already halfway inside.

  “I’m sorry. I just thought I’d never see you again,” she said with misty eyes. Sniffling back her tears, she gulped in deep breaths. I felt guilty that she was so emotional over our reunion since I couldn’t remember anything about her. She felt like a very nice and warm but complete stranger to me.

  “Well, I’m here now,” I said, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  “Yes, you are!” she said, pulling me into another hug. Wow. I came from a family that liked to hug their feelings out a lot. Was this something I did all the time, too? Maybe that’s why my ex dumped me. Was I too clingy?

  “I also brought my cat with me. I hope that’s okay,” I said as I looked around for him to make sure he followed me inside, but he was already atop the counter, going to town on the cupcakes. She spotted him, too. I followed her over.

  “Oh no! I can totally pay for those. His stomach is like a bottomless pit and today’s his birthday,” I said.

  “You’re family. You don't ever have to pay for anything. And it’s totally fine. He’s really cute. How old is he?” asked Ava, reaching over to pet the cat. I jumped forward to protect her from his kitty crazy claws but he didn’t massacre her like he did the clothes.

  “I’m two today and wow. These cupcakes are amazing. Like, I died and went to kitty heaven they’re so good. I take back everything I said before; we should visit your cousin all the time,” said the cat.

  “He’s two today,” I said.

  “Well, happy birthday, um?” Ava looked at me expectantly and I looked back at the cat. I had no idea what his name was. Oops. I was so busy asking about myself, I never bothered to inquire about the cat. Although, in my defense, until very recently, I thought he was simply a figment of my imagination.

  “Werewolf,” he said.

  “Did you just make that up?” I asked him.

  “You’re the one who named me. I was just a baby kitten,” he said.

  “Why would I name you Werewolf?” I asked.

  “What do I look like, the nomenclature record keeper of rationale and intentions?” asked the cat.

  I felt a pair of scared eyes and an open mouth staring at me. I couldn’t blame Ava. I was pretty much engaged in what sounded like a one-sided conversation with a cat.

  “You can hear him, too, right?” I asked Ava, who immediately shook her head no.

  “She’s not a witch,” said Werewolf between cupcake gulps. “Only witches can hear animals.”

  “But if she’s my cousin, shouldn’t she be a magical witch, too? Isn’t witchiness an inherited, family trait?” I asked.

  “Did you lose your vision along with your memory? You’re Asian, she’s white. You’re obviously adopted,” said Werewolf.

  “I’m adopted?” I asked, already processing how apparent that was. I didn’t look very long at myself. I could’ve been half. Or maybe she was adopted. Although with the last name Decker, probably not.

  “Maybe you should sit down,” said Ava, leading me towards a large, fuzzy booth in the corner. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get you some water.”

  Before I could move, little kitty claws began digging into my pants and scaling me. It was the cute, little ruddy kitten from the window. I instinctively put my arms out to hold him once he reached chest level. He was so adorable. I felt so much love oozing from him, he practically glowed with goodness.

  “Hi, I’m Lucky. You smell nice,” he said, nuzzling my neck and licking my face. Aww, this was so much more pleasant than Werewolf’s death threats.

  Still holding him, I sat down at the plush booth where Ava left me and sank into the comfy softness, thinking, I could stay here forever. It was nothing like that cold, sterile mansion of tacky red decor I woke up in.

  “Hi, I’m Sakara,” I said with a smile, happy to chat with such an adorable little ball of furry cuteness.

  Looking back towards the counter, I suddenly worried that Ava might be calling the cops. I had no idea what I would’ve done if the situation was reversed, but seeing a crazy woman who talked to cats didn’t seem normal and could have been arrest-worthy behavior. Ava handed out some cupcakes to new trick-or-treaters and chatted with a mom before grabbing a glass from the shelf behind her. Unless she possessed secret astral projection abilities, Ava was simply pouring me a glass of water and that was it. No 911 calls that I could see.

  “That’s my mommy. She’s the best,” said Lucky. “Do you want to play fetch?”

  “Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, is he?” asked Werewolf. I shot Werewolf a disapproving look to stop being rude but he was totally unfazed by it.

  “Or we can cuddle. You look like you could use a friend,” said Lucky, rubbing his face into my open palm. Ohh, I felt my heart melting at his cute little face and squeaky kitty voice. I leaned down and kissed him. Why couldn’t I have woken up to this? He was like a little kitty angel. Whereas, Werewolf was like a little kitty demon. Although Werewolf sounded exactly like what I deserved for my wicked, witchy, blackmailing ways.

  “Hey, kid, what are you doing? Have some self-respect. You’re a cat, not a dog,” said Werewolf, jumping up and trying to knock Lucky down from my arms. I pulled Lucky in closer to protect him from Werewolf’s evil cat tendencies.

  “But I am a dog,” said Lucky.

  “Trust me, you’re not a dog,” said Werewolf. “Now get down from there. You’re embarrassing cats everywhere.”

  “I’m half dog, half cat
. I came from two mommies. One was a Labrador and one was an Abyssinian,” he said.

  “That’s not how it works, buddy. You can’t have two mommies,” said Werewolf.

  Oh, no. Would he try to explain the birds and the bees to Lucky?

  “Lots of people have two mommies. Why can’t I come from two mommies?” asked Lucky.

  “Sounds like you and the little guy studied genetics at the same place,” said Werewolf, stalking away and returning to the cupcake display.

  “Here you go,” Ava said, coming back to the booth and handing me the glass of water.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “I know this is going to sound crazy but I think I can talk to animals.” I was holding my breath and waiting for Ava to either throw me out or have me committed, which might not have been the worst thing.

  “And that’s because Werewolf told you that you’re a magical witch?” she asked.

  “Maybe?” I said, still feeling her out. She genuinely seemed to care about me and not at all inclined to call and have me committed.

  “That would explain a lot, actually,” she said. “There’s so much to tell you but basically, we grew up together here in Clover Creek. Our dads are brothers, which is how we’re cousins and both have the last name Decker. You tracked down your birth parents to Georgia when you turned seventeen and then we never heard from you again.”

  I was almost afraid to ask but I had to know. “What about my adoptive parents? They didn’t even try to find me?” I asked.

  She took a big inhale and her eyes started to water. “They flew out there in their search to find you and called to tell us they might have gotten a lead on where you were before they disappeared, too. I guess secretly I was hoping they located you before all of you were placed into witness protection for witnessing a dangerous crime.”

  “Oh. Were we close?” I asked. I felt guilty over not being sad but I couldn't remember anything.

  “Yes, you were super close to your parents. And we were practically like sisters growing up,” she said. She pulled out her phone and flipped to some very old pictures, which she narrated as she swiped through them. It was a massive photo collection of Ava and me doing everything together from summer camp to pool parties to school plays to dance recitals and holidays. I looked so happy. I couldn’t imagine why I left and never returned. If there were any bad memories in here, I obviously hid them well.