Cats Can Fight Masked Men Too

They snatched Devi away in front of my eyes. The audacity!

When they came for her, I must have seemed nonchalant. I didn’t hiss at the masked men. They pushed her against the wall and forced handcuffs on her. I figured Devi would just shake out of them. Pummel the assailants. I was wrong.

Stand still, a voice in my head said. I kept my butt up in the air, tail flicking slowly from side to side, daring them to touch me. Do. Not. Lick. Yourself. A hairball tickled my throat. Don’t throw up. Be calm, be calm, BE CALM, it grew frantic. I silenced the voice so I could take in every little detail, scan my memories for clues later.

These weren’t ordinary men. No, they weren’t the typical angry townspeople with pitchforks. You know the ones in old stories who hunted witches and burned their cats with them if the chief’s son got a common cold? Those tales had somewhat prepared me for the inevitable. I knew it was common for the witches we bonded with to be taken away because men couldn’t stand a woman being too powerful or content with her own company.

Maybe I was foolish to let my guard down so soon. Humans seemed too enamored by bright screens these days to notice witches anymore. I thought if they came for us, the spell should have kept us safe.

But those masked men broke through the protective spell Devi and I had so carefully cast over the tiny apartment. I saw the barrier, invisible to humans, shatter into millions of blue-green mites, spilling all over the floors as the men stomped in with their muddy boots.

Each of them had the energy of an angry, mechanical bull. They made the spell we had crafted channeling the healing aura of the tulsi plants around the apartment seem feeble. Even Devi couldn’t do much. Her face was all contorted as she struggled. I couldn’t bear it.

“Use your powers, girl,” I purred softly at her. “You aren’t an ordinary mortal! Throw them a hex!” She didn’t. Or couldn’t. I hoped it was the former.

Soon it became apparent that there was some sort of modern witch hunt happening all around me. It wasn’t just Devi who was whisked away. Regular people disappeared when they stepped out to drop their children to school or get groceries. “Stop recording,” the angry voices that shoved them into cars said to bystanders.

The smells around me were different too. What I sniffed on humans was similar to what I sensed on rats right before I grabbed them in a dark alley: fear and an impending sense of doom.

I began to understand why Devi wanted to urgently complete the spell we were working on. I’ve always thought that humans, even the witchy kind, are always in a colossal rush for no real reason. My gift to them was the lesson of patience. I didn’t make an exception for Devi. She wanted my help? She had to learn to wait.

For the spell to work, I had to nab one item from each household on our street. We started small. First we’d see if the spell worked on people who lived close to us. If it did, we’d spread it around the neighborhood. Heck, maybe even the city, the country. Can’t a cat and her witch be ambitious?

If you hadn’t taken so much time, Devi would still be here. No, I told the voice. All wasn’t lost. She would be back, wouldn’t she? The spell would work, wouldn’t it?

I had enlisted my half sister Seema to help me. Pretty one she was. Young. Already landed a coveted spot as the only cat in a bustling bodega that sold the best turkey and chicken cutlet sandwiches. Count your blessings, I told her. If someone fed me delicious scraps of leftover meat every day, I wouldn’t budge from my spot. But you know how this new generation is. Always seeking adventure and trouble. And I needed her, for she knew every human on the block.

With Devi gone, I had no home anymore. Her belongings were unceremoniously dumped on the sidewalk a day after she was taken. There was already someone else living in her apartment. It became apparent to me: The indignity of human life. One moment you’re a full person with ideals, ambitions, a sense of self that came either from your job, what you owned or who you loved. You had a beautiful cat by your side. How quick and easy it still was to just erase you while the remnants of what you built towards lay scattered on the streets for people to mindlessly pick through and reject.

That’s why we adult cats have a blank stare that can cut right through you. It spooks humans who expect to find some warmth and recognition. But we don’t carry our soulfulness in our eyes. That way no one can really own us.

I was now living in the unkempt backyard that Devi’s old apartment overlooked. The horde of ruthless cats that once infested the backyard? Big dreams they had of harassing me, snatching my food. One simple hex and I made their claws and teeth disappear every time they got close to me. Made them shit their fur. You should have seen their faces! Their absence left all those plump rats, senses dulled after scavenging through trash scraps, ripe to be lured with the magical smell of pizza crusts. I was eating well.

The brambles in the yard provided good shelter. Helped me hide all the items Seema had procured for me for the spell. All sorts of nonsense: worn-down baby mittens, lint from sweaters, broken pieces of jewelry, a chewed stick of gum. Disjointed parts of human lives they had forgotten about. You know how quick humans are to separate signs of decay and waste from themselves.

Thankfully, being a bodega cat had made Seema systematic. She saw the owner take stock and make bills all day. That helped her organize all the knick-knacks she brought me from each family. Soon, everyone was spoken for.

I hoped that since I had kept my end of the bargain, that meant Devi would somehow return to me and we could resume what we set out to do. You’re a good cat, the voice in my head returned. I hissed at it, "Go away. What am I? A dog who needs constant validation?"

I prowled by the window of what used to be Devi’s apartment. There she was, emerging from the bedroom again, all disheveled like the first time we met, throwing open the window to greet me. Many moons ago, she had given me a bowl of the creamiest milk ever. And I had let her just grab me and bring me in. Imagine! Anyone else who had dared to do the same, you know what they got? These sharp claws and a hiss that gnawed their soul.

I don’t know how I let Devi into my life back then. Maybe my defenses were low because I was too unfriendly to be a bodega cat, too ornery of my own kind to form street alliances, too ratty to be a pet. Maybe I could sense she was a witch. That I was destined to be her companion. Independent but still part of an unspoken pact.

Or maybe it was just the milk. I wanted more. Still did. The thought shook me out of my reverie. I tried nudging the window open with my nose, with one paw, then the other. It remained firmly shut.

As winter began to creep in, Seema met the same fate as me. Ha, she thought she was so special? I tried hard to not be smug. It really was an awful time for her.

The bodega owner was taken away and his daughters were forced to close down the shop because they could no longer afford the rent. Seema had purred angrily at the masked assailants, but one of them swiftly kicked her aside. I’ve heard they did worse to other animals. Glad she made it alive. Always been a lucky one, this Seema.

The neighborhood rallied to raise money to reopen the deli. But the landlord decided it would be more profitable to sell the entire building to a luxury apartment developer. Seema had many admirers, however, and one of them — a lady with distractingly bushy eyebrows — took her in.

I continued to linger in Devi’s backyard. I hid in trashcans as it got colder. How much trash do these humans throw out every day? It’s exhausting. I have a message for them: Eat less, maybe, buy less. Huh? Yes, I kept an eye on the items I had gathered for the spell. You thought I’d let all my work be in vain? Sure the spell may not work. But I had to try. Right?

The man who lived in Devi’s place now was recently divorced from his high school sweetheart he had married young. All he did now was work, smoke, and sleep. What sort of a life is that?

One day, I heard some commotion and the window flew open, fingers pointing at me, and some excited nods.

A woman with long black hair and an emerald-green coat took big strides towards me. She smelled like Devi. Even looked like her, just a little less world weary. She blinked back tears when she saw me. Okay, enough with the theatrics, lady, do you want me or not? Humans are so dramatic.

“That’s her, thank you,” she said to the man. She turned back to me. “I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

Heck no, I wasn’t leaving without the ingredients of my spell. Sure, all the items had decayed further in the wilderness. But they came with me or I would stay here. The new girl seemed to understand and began scooping them into a bag. Good girl.

Back in her apartment, she flashed a laser light on the floor and looked at me with a spark in her eyes. I shot her an exasperated look — did she think I was that basic? Come on, you know you want to chase it, have some fun. No. She must realize I’m a special cat, I told the voice.

The girl laughed. “Okay, I get it. She told me all about you, but I thought she was exaggerating,” she said. “She will be…fine,” she added, less certainly.

I scratched at the bag she had packed with my assortment of findings. Devi better have told her about the spell. She nodded absentmindedly, but I didn’t know what to make of it. Humans never say what they mean or mean what they say. If you want to live with one, you must know that.

New girl, whose name I learned was Selvi, was gone every day from dawn to dusk, taking with her the bag of items for the spell. I hoped she knew what she was doing.

Before the moon was as full as a bowl of milk again, she held me in her arms and we wandered down Devi’s old street. The scent of looming fear and uncertainty in the air was less pungent. It smelt like laundry day. A sunrise that old friends stayed up to watch. That euphoric time I rolled in crushed catnip that Devi spread on the kitchen counter.

Devi’s former neighbor poked his head out to greet us. Something weird but wonderful had happened, he told us. The masked men had intended to grab old Mr. and Mrs. Ali from the next building. But when they forcibly barged in, it seemed like they couldn’t see the Bangladeshi couple who stood right in front of them, mistaking them for someone else.

“Bill, Sarah, sorry to bother you,” their leader said humbly. “We heard someone else lived here. Wrong information. We’ll be on our way.”

“That steak looks good,” one of the masked men said, pointing to what was very obviously a bowl of dal heavily seasoned with cumin.

The family was bewildered but relieved.

Similar occurrences took place up and down the street. The Northekals, the newlywed Jones, the Perez twins. When hands flew to grab them, it seemed like something switched at that moment that made the masked men mistake them for people with different faces and identities. They let them go with profuse apologies.

Did I see a few familiar faces skipping down the road? Nodding and smiling at each other? Did I hear the happy tunes of an ice cream truck in the dead of winter? No one was looking over their shoulder anymore when they were walking their dog or running an errand. There was even chatter about a block party in a few months. Ah, what I’d do to inhale the smokey smell of meat again.

There were many theories about what happened. Perhaps the assailants no longer wanted to do their terrible job. Maybe they were going blind. Maybe they were possessed. Of course, no one believes in magic anymore, so their theories were bland. Whatever. Some acknowledgement would have been nice.

“Have you even heard of something like that?,” the ex-neighbor said, chuckling.

Selvi giggled, feigning surprise, but whispered “it worked” when we were out of earshot. I looked up at her with a soft purr as she happily scratched behind my ears. At least I hadn’t failed Devi, wherever she was.

The voice was back, puncturing my happiness. How did Selvi, this lesser witch, pull it off? Was there another, more powerful cat involved?