The Cat Lady

Billy stood on pointed toes as he watched the commotion next door with interest. He couldn’t help himself - he was as curious as any young boy, and hard-headed to boot. Though the high window frame obscured his view and forced him to crane his neck uncomfortably in order to catch a glimpse of the world outside, he wouldn’t give up his front row seat for all the world. Especially not today. Not when there was so much to be seen.

Normally, of course, his mother would have scolded him for such nosiness; such behavior was unbecoming of the friendly neighbors that she insisted they could be. If the other families around the neighborhood caught Billy snooping on their lives - something they’d all done several time, naturally, but would never dare admit - she’d be the laughing stock of the PTA. She might as well never turn up for brunch again! Reputation was everything on that quiet, peaceful cul-de-sac. Nobody would risk becoming the outsider there.

But on that early springtime morning, even the stern, sharp-nosed woman couldn’t resist peeping through the slits in the blinds with unabashed candor. Not since the break of dawn when, to the surprise of all, a van emblazoned with the letters ACU had skidded around the street corner, narrowly avoiding the hedge’s lining the Thompson’s property in the process, and rolled to a stop in front of the Cat Lady’s house, the one just beside their own. How could anyone not be intrigued by that glossy silver van or it’s unmistakable gold emblem of a snake detailed upon its side? The arrival of the ACU was breaking news still unfolding, and there was no doubt that Billy and his mother weren’t the only locals that had noticed the story in the making.

To be fair, it wasn’t as though any of them enjoyed watching the drama. The Cat Lady stuck to herself for the most part, and no one had a bad word to say about the woman. She was elderly, frail, a bit scatterbrained but altogether quite harmless. On her own, she would have been quite an agreeable addition to the neighborhood potlucks and community get-togethers. Nobody really wanted to see her face the wrath of the ACU. 

The problem was those god-forsaken cats that gave the Cat Lady her name. The Cat Lady had lived in that dilapidated house at the end of the cul-de-sac as long as any could remember, and over the years, the scourge of cats had only worsened. Whenever one walked past the creaking cottage, undoubtedly with an urgency in their step as the odor of cat dander wafted from the windows, at least a dozen sets of narrow, yellow eyes would glare from the shadows. Hisses and mews were as plentiful as scratches in gaudy wallpaper in the Cat Lady’s house. By all means, it was about time the Animal Control Unit stepped in. It was impossible to know who on the block had at last made the call, but all were secretly grateful for the effort.

After all, how could they have a Cat Lady on their street? Cats were noisy, and rude, and dangerous to the entire neighborhood they all held dear. Families lived on this cul-de-sac for goodness sake! Children played Four-Square and Cops and Robbers on the pavement on hot summer days! Young couples walked hand in hand, whispering sweet nothings as they picked out plots of land! A person could never safe when a cat was around. Eradication was the only option that would do.

The professionals of the ACU, donning the crisp white jackets and shiny gold badges only a trained agent could, would know how to handle the case. And from the window, Billy could see as a pair of agents led the fragile Cat Lady out of her house, a large orange cat in her arms. There were tears streaming down her face, but the agents were apparently unphased. They murmured a few words back and forth, and the woman nodded and dropped the cat in the back of the van. She then took another cat in her arms, then another and another, and repeated the process for each. Over the better part of an hour, every one of nearly 20 cats was dredged up from the shadowy corners of the home and brought to the ACU van. The whole time, the Cat Lady’s tears fell from her face.

One of the agents retrieved then a clipboard from the driver’s side of the vehicle. After scribbling a few notes, he passed the clipboard to the Cat Lady. She stared at the board with wide, empty eyes before scribbling at the bottom of the page with a heavy hand. The agent snatched the board back, and the agents climbed back into the van, not another word spoken to the lady watching on. Less than an hour since they’d arrived, the ACU agents were leaving the cul-de-sac, 20 cats in tow and not a moment wasted.

Once the van had disappeared around the corner, Billy’s mother scoffed and shook her head. “About time,” she muttered, fixing the blinds. She pat Billy on the head. “You don’t have to worry about those cats any longer.”

Billy’s mother walked into the kitchen, all interest in her neighbor lost with the cats now gone. Billy turned back to the glass and rested his chin on the sill as best he could; the Cat Lady was sitting on the front porch, her head hanging heavily and her arms wrapped around her knees. He frowned. What was he to call her with all the cats now taken? Surely she would no longer be the Cat Lady.

But then again, she was normal now. The ACU had fixed her. So, maybe he didn’t need to call her anything at all. She would just become another face around the cul-de-sac. Another customer at the shopping center. Another pedestrian about town. With no horrible cats to be wary of, Billy didn’t have any reason to keep an eye on the woman any longer.

That was probably for the best. Now that she was normal, she was not nearly as interesting to watch from the window.