They say cats are mysterious and mythical creatures. Those made of magic and can see through the veil of the other side. Cats can be cute and friendly, but then there are the jerks. Max was fairly sure the gray tabby sitting in front of the sliding doors to the Corner Store was one of them. It watched him, with tail flicking side to side as if keeping time with the metronome of a tail, waiting for him, daring for him to do something, as if prepared to judge his every move with it's large yellow eyes.

He fell forward on the stool he was seated comfortably at. His fingers clasping the edge of the counter in front of him. It was his turn for register duty while his father ran around doing 'errands' or was attempting to cook and not burn the house down. His gaze shifted to his sister, Zoey, whom was restocking the shelves with supplies. She scooted her step ladder over to the next aisle to the box containing bags of googly-eyes their father insisted needed to be near the glitter. Why either were sold in the small store made no sense.

"Zoey," Max called, after righting himself on the stool. Last thing he wanted was an 'I told you so' from her, "do you think you can shoo the cat outside away?"

She turned to him as she held onto the packages of googly-eyes. Her eyes grew wide in excitement, "A cat!?" She jumped down from the step stool and ran to the back of the store.

Max stared at the cat outside. It blinked. He shuddered and he looked towards the back of the store, using the stool to gaze over the aisles in an attempt to locate his sister. "Zoe-"

She broke out between two aisles similarly to the Kool-Aid man busting down a wall. Her sneakers screeched from friction as she rushed towards the entrance. The doors slid open as she ran outside holding a plastic stick with a string wrapped on its end. The other end of the string was a couple of feathers and a bell, "Here kitty kitty," she said sweetly, moving the toy up and down.

The cat ignored her and walked into the store. It sat down in the middle of one of the tiles in front of the counter, angled in such a way that it could watch him. He opened his mouth to say something but the tail flick told him otherwise. The cat's head tilted slightly as if daring him to say a word. Zoey walked back in pouting, "I wasn't fast enough."

"Z-Zoey."

She looked up at him. Her lower lip quivering. She sniffed, "Why can't I pet one?"

Max shakily pointed to the tabby clearly seated a couple tiles in front of her. It's eyes still trained on him, "You let it in though."

Zoey's forehead wrinkled as she stared at him confused. She followed the line of direction his index finger was pointing at. She tilted her head, mimicking the cat, and then turned back to him frowning, "What cat?"

Max withdrew his hand and stuffed it in his jacket pocket, "I must be seeing things..."

She sighed angrily, "Not funny Max," she huffed and stomped away. He saw her physically shudder as she stomped through the cat. It seemed unfazed by her small tantrum as it continue to stare at him.

He swallowed and fished his phone out of his pocket. He tore his gaze away from the ghost-cat-thing for a moment while pulling up the correct phone number, when his eyes shifted back to the tile. The cat was gone. Max leaned over the counter, trying to reconnect with the cat's line of sight. "Meow." He jumped, knocking the stool over in the process. His hands were up as he stood, frozen in place. Something cold brushed up against his legs. He looked down. The gray tabby with piercing yellow eyes sat on his foot and looked up at him. This close, he could see through it, just like some of the other ghosts and spirits he had met. It was dead...and was staring into his soul. There was a very small part of him terrified of the possibility that the cat could snatch it, like a canary out of the air. It pawed at his pant leg.

"Get off," he said willing for his voice not to crack under nerves. He stumbled back, tripping over the stool and fell on top of it. His phone slid out of his hand to who knew where. The cat walked over to his face and tapped it's paw against nose before headbutting his forehead with it's face.

"Max?" Zoey called, her sneakers squeaking against the floor. She lifted the counter door, walked through and spotted him. The cat looked up at her and scurried off. She stood over him with hands on her hips, "Karma."

He groaned, "Zoey,"

"Yeah?"

"Just," he raised it hand, "help me up."

She grabbed his hand, "Yeah, yeah, Mister Dramatic," she pulled his arm as he pushed against the stool and sat up.

Max rubbed his back. It had been a while since a ghost/spirit influenced an injury. And by a while, it was at least a week. "Thanks." She hummed a response and went back to working on the shelves. He pulled himself up, using the counter for support, and rested his face against it. Today had started as a good day too.

"Mister Max!" His eyes shot open and his hands gripped the counter harder. PJ tapped his knuckle against his chin, "Oh were you sleeping?"

Max stood up straight and rolled his shoulders, "It's all good." He heard wood scraping against the floor behind him. Max looked down and saw Lefty gently pushing the stool across the floor before lifting it and setting the stool's legs on the ground. "Thanks Lefty." PJ spun in the air. He seemed to be bursting with a question. Max leaned against the counter. His eyes scanned the aisles. He couldn't see Zoey, or any customers for that matter. It was a slow day. He shifted his attention to PJ, "What's up?" his voice barely audible for anyone beyond the first aisle.

Before PJ could get a word out, Lefty tugged on Max's jacket and pointed up. Max snorted, "Very funny Lefty."

PJ flailed his arms, "No no Lefty is right. You need to come upstairs. It is no laughing matter Mister Max."

Max raised an eyebrow, "Why? What's going on-" his voice faltered, "the cat," he whispered.