The Autumn Cat

The Autumn Cat

By Trisha Dee

     The small, run-down cottage had seen better days. It was a cracker box of a house, once pretty, with blue shutters complementing its pale green walls. Now, the paint was peeling, and some lazy wasps had taken up residence in most of the shutters. The nests were apparent, but the wasps must have taken off for warmer climates, or were simply dead. There wasn’t much of a yard, but what there was, was overgrown. There were a few pots of flowers on the porch, but they were brown and desiccated. The small porch looked a bit drunk, leaning forward as if it could topple with a good kick. The mailbox mounted on the wall of the porch hung at a crazy angle. It too, seemed inebriated and ready to lie down.

      A small tortoise shell cat sat a few yards from the place, considering the fact that there was an open hole in the foundation. Not that she really needed a hole, but sometimes they were fun. The cat was not bothered by the cold, but she hated the wind and the constant rustle of leaves at this time of year. A place where she could be out of the wind and left to her own devices seemed appealing. The place looked empty, and sure to contain some mice or other huntable creatures. She had scouted around the yard, watching the trees the night before. She hadn't seen any sign of owls. Owls were the only creatures that seemed able to spot her. And they frightened away the mice and other small rodents that she liked to hunt. The cat had no desire to compete with nocturnal winged predators.

  The cat had long forgotten any name she might have had. She thought of herself only as Cat. And that was enough for her. Cat wriggled through the hole in the cracked concrete foundation and found herself in the musty crawl space. It was dark, but her emerald eyes adjusted quickly. She was pleasantly surprised to see a mouse nest and indeed, several mice. This was her favorite; when there were enough that she could maybe find one that actually sensed her. Pouncing on mice who didn’t even know she was there held no enjoyment, But occasionally, one of the mice would pause, twitching, knowing that something wasn’t right. This was one of Cat’s great pleasures. She would circle and creep closer, enjoying the growing fear of the mouse. Then she would coil and POUNCE! One of the mice, a small and obviously young specimen, had frozen in its tracks. Cat inched noiselessly forward, relishing the increasing ear swivels and darting eyes of the tiny creature. The mouse's nose was practically vibrating off it's face and the whiskers were electric with tension. She was just about to jump when the mouse decided it couldn’t stand the suspense and bolted. It knocked into the other mice and they scattered, dashing away to bolt holes and sending dust and leaves flying. 

     Disappointed, Cat sneezed, then looked up and saw an opening above her. Her ears swiveled and her own whiskers were alert. There was no sound. Cat remained still, listening for any hint of movement. Once she had misjudged and dropped into a pile of sleeping dogs. They did not lie. The dogs were confused and tore through the shack they had commandeered for their pack. Cat cowered back watching them become increasingly confused. They seemed to know she was there, but could not find her. When they began chasing their own and each other's tails, Cat had made her exit. The house above her remained quiet with only the wind outside causing any noise. Cat jumped nimbly through the space in the dilapidated floorboards and found herself in what was likely a pantry or cupboard. The door of it was ajar and she strolled out to inspect her new home. And froze.

     The house was dead silent, but there, at the end of the hallway, was a human woman. And that woman was staring right at her. “Why, hello”, she said. “And what is your name?” Cat was puzzled. No human had ever acknowledged her presence. She had walked right through a backyard party, entranced by the smell of grilled meat, and no one had noticed her. She had even jumped onto the table with platters of food in order to get some really good smells, and no one, not even the children remarked on her audacity. This woman was now crouched and reaching out to her.

The woman was somewhere between young and old. Her skin and hair were devoid of color, so the normal clues weren’t there. Her clothing seemed practical and well worn. The clothing of the hairless humans was not something that Cat much cared about. If they had no fur, she supposed they had to do something to keep warm. The woman made some clicking noises with her tongue that Cat found oddly compelling and she very cautiously stepped forward. 

     Cat sniffed the air, but could not get a sense of any scent from the woman. Humans usually smelled of their body odor, what they had eaten, or of soap or perfumes. This human was slightly musty, but the dwelling was dusty, so it was difficult to know what might be the woman and what was normal decaying house. When the cat was near enough, the woman reached out and gently ran her hand along the cat’s back. Cat was startled. Normally anything that brushed up against her passed through her with no effect. The touch of the woman felt calming, and like a light breeze. Without thinking about it, the cat began to purr. Cat's purr was rough, like an old lawnmower chewing sticks.  The woman gave a sharp intake of breath. “Oh”, she whispered, “That’s lovely. It’s been so quiet here, so lonely.”

The woman turned back to the room behind her and looked back over her shoulder at Cat. Her eyes seemed to call Cat, which was both intriguing and uncomfortable. The woman crossed the room, not at a walk, but a seeming glide. Cat often moved that way herself and she wondered if this was perhaps some new kind of cat with two legs instead of four. But that was silly. Cat shook her head, and watched the human. The woman continued across the room and then sat in an armchair with large, squishy looking cushions. . She did not sink into the chair as much as melt into it. She smiled at the cat and made the irresistible noise again.

     Curiously, Cat tilted her head. How could this woman hear her purring? No creature had reacted to any sound from her for as long as she could remember. She had hissed mightily when she fell on the dogs, but they were making so much noise themselves that they couldn't possibly have heard her. The strange sound lured Cat closer, until she was at the woman's feet. The woman patted her lap and made a soft psp, psp sound. The curiosity got the better of her (she was, after all, a cat), and Cat leapt into the woman’s lap. Cat circled until she found a comfortable spot. She blinked twice at the woman and began her unique rumbling purr again. As the woman rubbed her ears, Cat recognized something she had not felt in many rounds of seasons. She had no words to name it. Cat only knew that she felt safe and had no urge to run from the woman.

"I'm Celeste", the woman whispered. Cat liked the soft, sibilant sounds that the woman made. Celeste rubbed Cat's ear gently. Cat was incandescent with pleasure and stretched across the woman's lap, rubbing her head against the woman's hand.

     “We’ll think of a name for you tomorrow”, Celeste said, smiling down at the content animal. “Or maybe the next day”, she mused. “We have nothing but time.” And Cat agreed.