Happy birthday, Captive! I hope you like this one! -Akumu

CLAIREVEMBER 2024
Day 10 - cat

The kitten peeked around the tire. Two humans, a small girl and taller boy, were walking along the road. The girl walked bandy-legged, sometimes jumping from pink sneaker to pink sneaker. Her bookbag bounced as her ponytail swished back and forward like the skein of string that Grandpa and his little humans Bobby, Amanda, and Megan liked to wave in front of the kitten and her brothers and sisters.

"Trista Atherton says you can't step on any cracks on Friday the 13th or else you'll break your mother's back, and Cecilia-down-the-street believes her, so I'm stepping on every crack I see today to show her that Trista is fibbing," said the girl as she and the boy reached the driveway. "She also said if you break a mirror, you get seven years bad luck, and if you walk under a ladder, it's more bad luck, and if you cross a black cat's path, it's even more bad luck. Can you put up the ladder in the garage? And give me a mirror to break?"

"Yes on the ladder, no on the mirror," said the boy.

"Aw, why not?"

"Because I don't want Mom and Dad getting after me for letting you break something, that's why."

"But it's to prove to Cecilia that Trista is lying – that there's no such thing as bad luck."

"I'm pretty sure you've stepped on enough cracks to make up for one mirror."

The kitten backed behind the tire as the girl and boy passed. They entered the open garage, where the boy dug out a ladder and veed it open.

"There," he said. "Now walk under it so I can put it away."

The girl squared her shoulders and stepped under it. She grinned as she moved through the narrow archway.

"Tah-dah–oof!"

The girl had bumped her head on the ladder's underside. It swayed and then tipped into a nearby shelf packed full of greasy mechanical parts. Something shiny and round rolled off a high shelf and smashed on the cement floor. Mewing, the kitten dashed away.

"Good going, genius," snapped the boy. "You broke the spare mirror for Dad's Wide Glide. Now I'm gonna get in trouble for –"

"Chris, look."

The girl was pointing at the kitten. She had left the shelter of the car and now cowered in full view of the bright afternoon.

Footsteps pounded through the big house, and a door sprung open. It was a woman – one with blue eyes like the boy and girl and auburn hair like the girl. The kitten sensed she was their mama.

"What was – you're paying for that with your allowance, mister!"

"I knew it," muttered Chris.

"It isn't his fault, Mom," said the girl. "I knocked over the ladder. Trista Atherton said it's bad luck to walk under a ladder on Friday the 13th and Cecilia-down-the-street believes her, so I wanted to walk under one to show her Trista was just making up stuff. And then this kitten showed up."

The girl pointed at the kitten again. Mom looked at her too. Together, Mom and the girl approached the kitten. She jetted back under the car. All the humans bent to look under it, their faces black eclipses.

"I bet that's one of Patches's kittens," said Mom.

The kitten looked up at the sound of Mama's name.

"Mr. Trenton must be wondering where it went. Poor thing," Mom was saying. "It looks so frightened."

"Can we keep it?" said the little girl.

Mom sighed. "We'll see about it. Come here, baby. Come here." She reached toward the kitten.

She scampered toward the front tires and mewed.

"It can't meow," said the girl. "Maybe it's hurt."

"It doesn't look hurt. Maybe its meows are just quiet," said Mom. "Come on, baby. We aren't going to hurt you."

The girl reached toward the kitten too. "We aren't going to hurt you."

The kitten backed toward one of the tires and mewed again.

"Chris, go around the other side and catch it," said Mom.

The kitten watched as Chris's big sneakers paced the car. She froze, not knowing where she could run that would be out of the humans' reach. When his long arm snaked under the car and his massive hand caught and pulled her out into the sunlight, all she could do was mew and mew for Mama, but Mama didn't come just like she hadn't come when the kitten first wandered outside and the door closed.

Chris raised her high above the ground, turned her over as she continued to mew.

"Its meows really are quiet," he said.

"Maybe she's whispering," said the girl.

"Maybe," conceded Chris. "It's a girl. All black. So now you've done it all, baby sister: stepped on cracks, walked under a ladder, smashed a mirror, and crossed a black cat's path, all on Friday the 13th."

Chris's sister rushed to his side and gently stroked the kitten's head. "She's so soft. Can I hold her?"

Chris passed the kitten, who was still mewing, to his sister. She cradled her like one of the toy tiny humans that Amanda liked to hold.

"It's okay," the girl said. "My name's Claire. What's yours?

The kitten mewed.

"Can you talk any louder?" asked Claire.

The kitten mewed again.

"Guess not," the girl concluded.

Mom led the way to the house next to theirs. As they stood under the veranda, Claire clutching the kitten and scratching her cheek in just the way she liked it, Mom pushed a button on the door jamb. The same loud bell that sounded in Grandpa's house burst through this one. The door opened, and there stood Grandpa holding Mama. Mewing, the kitten lunged forward, but Claire held her back.

"Sorry to bother you, Herve, but I think one of Patches's kittens got out," said Mom.

"Why, yes, it does appear that way," said Grandpa. "Thank you all for returning her. Old Patches would have been missing her something fierce tonight. Say! As a token of thanks, won't you come inside for a spot of lemonade?"

"Can I play with the kittens?" asked Claire.

"Of course! Of course!" Grandpa said as he stood aside to usher them into the living room.

Placing Mama on the sofa, Grandpa disappeared into the kitchen. The kitten lunged again, and this time Claire released her onto the sofa beside Mama.

"There you go," said Claire as she rubbed her and then Mama.

Mom took a seat in a nearby armchair while Chris claimed the other end of the sofa. Claire climbed onto the sofa's middle cushion and continued to pet the kitten and Mama as she curled into the squishy, cozy corner.

The kitten rolled her back under Mama's chin, and Mama cupped her with one paw and began cleaning her face. The kitten's brothers and sisters – all balls of motley fur like Mama except for Spot, who was white with a black mark on her forehead – clawed their way on the sofa. Claire grabbed the bright yellow skein that lay on the soft arm and waved it over the kittens. Spot, Princess, Fang, and Skeletor all took turns swinging at it. Skeletor swung so hard he fell into Princess. Claire laughed.

Grandpa brought out a tray loaded with clear glasses of lemonade and set it on the coffee table. He and Mom talked, and Chris and Claire, sipping their lemonade, joined in. Claire returned the skein to the sofa arm, where Fang and Princess kept pawing at it.

After a while, they both yawned and balled themselves against Mama's tummy. Princess and Skeletor followed suit. The kitten wiggled free of Mama, who closed her eyes and rested her head upon the cushion.

The kitten padded to Claire, looked up at her, and sat. She mewed until finally Claire noticed and scratched her cheek.

"You always whisper. You need to get louder," she said.

"That one's always been quiet," Grandpa said. "Just like my granddaughter Megan."

"What's her name, Mr. Trenton?"

"My grandkids haven't quite decided yet. Amanda and Bobby tried "Blackie," but I guess that didn't stick becauset they quit calling it that."

"How about Whisper? Since she whispers instead of meows?" Claire said. She scratched the kitten's cheek again and said, "Huh? Do you like that, Whisper?"

The kitten mewed.

"Whisper…" said Grandpa. "I think they may like that."

"You hear that, Whisper?" said Claire, smiling as she rubbed the kitten's back. "You got a name now!"

Whisper mewed back.