DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI.
But even then I knew I'd find a much better place
Either with or without you
The next time she called it was nine o clock in the evening. Greg was watching a Law and Order omnibus when the phone rang.
"Hey therrre..."
"Cat?"
"Yeah... it's me Cat... Catty Cat Cat..."
"Cat? What is it? What's going on?"
"Hello I'd like a... wait hold on... I'd like a..."
"Cat are you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm goood. I'm goooooooooood. I'm gooooooooooooooo..."
"CAT! What is up with you?"
"I want a pizza with... wait what do you call that stuff?"
"What stuff? What are you talking about?"
"Yellow stuff. Mice eat it. And cats eat mice and dogs eat cats and...no wait... that's not right. Who eats cats?"
"Cat are you high?"
"Nobody eats cats. Cats are fluffy. They drink milk and they have...whiskers! They have whiskers! And eyes and ears and mouths and... Cheese!"
"Cheese?"
"That's the stuff they put on pizza! I want a pizza with... with cheese!"
"Cat! Listen to me."
"Okey-dokey, pizza man."
"Are you listening?"
I don't know, are YOU listening?"
"Cat, have you been smoking?"
"Smoking... smoking hot, yeah I'd like a smoking hot pizza with cheese and cats! No wait... no cats."
"Cat, listen to me. This is Greg?"
"No, no, no, no, no thank you. I do not want any Greg on my pizza. No Greg. Pancakes!"
"Yes, we made pancakes, and we squirted cream. Remember Cat? I'm coming over there."
"Yes, of course you are. You have to bring over my cat."
"Cat. My name is Cat. Your name is Cat."
"No Cat, I'm Greg."
"Greg? Thats a funny name. Fun to say. Greg. Greggity Greggity Greg! Hey I know somebody called... wait what was it again?"
"That's it Cat, I'm on my way."
"Cat. That was it. And cheese."
Greg hung up and stopped for a moment, unsure of how it had gotten so bad all of a sudden. Grabbing his jacket, he ran out the door, not even bothering to lock it because Cat was more important. He was going to run, it seemed very dramatic and poetic but then he told himself to stop being poetic and just help Cat. So he drove.
"Cat?" he called, opening her front door gingerly.
"Are you the man with my Chinese food, I ordered Chinese food?"
"CAT!" Greg yelled, checking all the rooms in the apartment until he found her, sitting on top of the washing machine, swinging her legs back and forth and singing. Lindsey sat on the ground, she was screaming and trying to pull her mother down.
"Greg?" Cat asked him, momentarily pausing her performance of "Follow the Yellow Brick Road" to wave at him.
"Oh God Cat..." Greg said, taking in the crying child, singing woman and open bottle of pills.
"Do you hear that? Swoosh, swoosh swoosh." Cat said, getting down and staring at the clothes inside the washing machine. "Look, they go around and around and around."
"Greg decided to attend to Lindsey first, so he washed her, changed her and put her to bed on the sofa. Then he went back to Cat. By now she had calmed down and was lying across the floor softly humming "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" Greg sighed and helped her up, pulling her into his arms and rocking her back and forth gently. She began to giggle quietly into his shoulder and Greg lifted her into her bedroom and placed her gently on the bed. Knowing better than to leave her, he lay down beside her. Greg took off his jacket and laid it over Cat. He knew there were lots of things they had to discuss but it woyld have to wait until Cat was back to normal.
The next morning she didn't wake up until nearly two o' clock and Greg had already fed Lindsey and sat her in front of the television. When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing she did was groan and close them agian.
"Cat. Wake up."
"Greg? What are you doing here?" saying his name aloud trigerred a few memories in Cat's head.
Greg? Thats a funny name. Fun to say. Greg. Greggity Greggity Greg!
"Cat..." Greg began and more things came flooding back to her.
Nobody eats cats. Cats are fluffy. They drink milk and they have...whiskers! They have whiskers! And eyes and ears and mouths and... Cheese!
"How often do you smoke marijuana?" Greg was asking her calmly.
"Em... just when it gets really bad."
"What gets bad?"
"That thing... where you can't sleep. Insta..."
"Insomnia?"
"Yeah. That."
"You have insomnia?" it was making sense now. That's why she called him thinking somebody was coming to get her when really it was just a storm.
"Sometimes. Only when I have too much."
"Coffee?"
"No. Coke."
"Coca Cola? That used to make me crazy when I was a kid, it's got like acffeine and a ton of sugar right? Sheesh Cat, how much Coke have you been drinking?"
"No. Coke as in crack."
"You're on cocaine? Cat, this is serious! When did you start that?"
"I was low, real low. The come down from the shrooms was a bitch and..."
"Shrooms? Cat what else are you on?"
"I gave up the shrooms. But it was driving me crazy, being all cold turkey so one of the girls at work gave me some coke and, yeah it cheered me up."
"For like, an hour, then it's worse again, Cat, what were you thinking?"
"I can handle it. I only take it when I'm real down."
"And what about the marijuana? Let me get this straight, to make up for the shrooms you took cocaine and when the cocaine keeps you awake at night you take marijuana? And where does the alcohol fit into all this Cat? The tequila and the whiskey and the voldka and the gin? What totally-excuasable circumstance makes you have the alcohol?"
"I just like a drink every now and again, that's it. No problem."
"There is a problem Cat, you're throwing your life away. Your daughter..."
"I think I can raise my daughter myself thank you very much."
"But you can't Cat, that's the thing. You can't even take care of yourself, what am I supposed to do?"
"You're not supposed to do anything. It's my life, and I can live it whatever way I want."
"I can't let you live like this Cat, nobody should like like this!"
"Oh yeah, cos you know everything about me, everything about my life."
"You have a daughter, she's your responsibility. If you won't change for me, won't even cha nge for yourself, do it for Lindsey."
"My mom raised me at arms length and I'm ok, I do fine."
"I don't know what you think doing fine is, but trust me Cat you're anything but fine."
"Your mom may have wrapped you in a little cocoon until you were ready to face the big bad world but I'm not gonna do that."
His mom. Her hugs. Her scream.
"What my mom did and didn't do is nothing to you. This is about you, Cat, nobody else."
"I'm sorry Mr. Olaf, but your daughter didn't make it...injuries too serious...say goodbye...poor child...so sorry...
The overheard conversation between his grandfather and the doctor after his mothers accident was one he would never forget. He was a 'poor child' now, without a mother. It was his fault. If he'd just been more careful with the stupid glass bottle she wouldn't have run out. If she hadn't been so worried about him she would have heard the bus, seen it coming. It was his fault.
"You know what Cat" Greg said, interupting her rant about how she was not Greg's responsibility "you're right. Why should I care what happens to you? You've brought it all on yourself. Why don't you just go to hell."
He stormed out, not bothering to get his jacket, not bothering to say goodbye. Then he got in his car and he drove and drove until he was in the desert, the hot Nevada desert where there was no people, no cellphone reception, no noise exept the wind. Greg turned on his stereo and closed his eyes.
