Cradle

Every evening, I take a little stroll to a place I call the Stone Yard to visit my favorite stone there and take a little nap. It doesn’t seem like much, but it’s kinda become my favorite thing in the world to do.

Getting there is a bit of a way off, but out of everything in my strict schedule, this nap is one thing I cannot skip. If I do, the rest of my day is ruined! Nay, the rest of my week is tarnished!

I normally start my stroll in the Concrete Jungle of where I live. Past dark tunnels and large buildings, and down a winding road that leads out into the woods, and it’s there that I’ll normally try to hitch a ride. This road only leads to the graveyard so the chance that I’ll be driven somewhere else is low (though it has happened before and it was such a headache to fix). Normally people are willing to pick me up as soon as they see me strolling down the middle of the lonely road. And of course, my own natural charm helps to seal the deal. The trick is not letting them try to keep you.

The Stone Yard is a nice change of setting from the Concrete Jungle. The loud noises give way to silence only broken by pleasant chirping and a gentle breeze that rustles the tree leaves oh so nice. My favorite season is autumn specifically for this reason, because when the leaves are nice and dry, they make such a delicious rustling noise that resonates through my entire body. And then there’s the occasional leaf that falls which is always fun to chase. They don’t taste as good as mice but it’s good exercise either way.

There are many beautiful stones here, all polished and just large enough for someone like me to rest upon. But none as magnificent as My Stone. It is truly the best and always manages to lure me into a deep and peaceful slumber. I’m not sure why it has that effect. There are metallic scribblings on its surface that I don’t understand and they provide me with no answers to its nature. Perhaps it’s how polished its surface is or its placement near an oak whose branches provide such nice shade, and its leaves seem to catch the wind better than any other. Or perhaps it’s just the energy of the place, the stone surface itself feels so warm and inviting, almost like a perfectly cushioned lap that welcomes you and eases away any stress you get from jungle life.

Now I have a bit of a ritual when I come near it. Not sure why I started it, but it just feels right. I always start meowing when it comes to my view, just to let it know that I’m approaching. Then, when I do approach it, I just sit there and clean myself for a bit. Sometimes I’ll chat with it. Let it know what kind of day I had and ask what kind of day it had. I know this makes me sound silly, but it also feels rude not asking in return. Then I’ll greet the tree with its rustling leaves and just take a moment to listen to it. Then I’ll circle My Stone exactly three times, rubbing my side along its corners as I do. This helps to ease off the stress, which also starts to lure me into my deep sleep. Then I leap upon it, and I circle around in place about three times as well, which normally helps to seal in the sleepy deal.

Then I circle up into a ball and close my eyes. The tree leaves are rustling above me, its shade providing a perfect blanket. And there is a gentle breeze that brushes over me almost like a hand brushing along my fur. And the stone itself feels so warm. As I said before, it feels like a lap, but just for me and no one else. And its warmth washes away all my troubles and stress, and I ease, slowly…slowly away into slumber…

---

Wait…what was that?

I open my eyes, and there sitting before My Stone is a lady. She places some flower near the ground of My Stone and greets me with a smile.

I don’t recognize her from my hitch ride, so she must be someone new. Is she visiting my My Stone? Gods, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone visit this one. She reaches out to let me sniff her hand, to which I pull my face back in disgust. She laughs at this, albeit softly, but thankfully, she decides to keep her distance. But she shows no signs of wanting to leave.

My, this is troubling. I suppose I could put up with this interruption for just this once. So long as she continues to keep to herself.

So, I close my eyes, this time a little harder, and lure myself to sleep again. It takes a little while, but I feel its familiar pull, and I feel myself, falling deeper, deeper-

Wait is she talking right now? She can’t be serious. She is!

I snap my head up with narrowed eyes and ears to let her know I don’t appreciate this. Not. One. Bit.

But she just sits there and continues to speak as if I’m not even lying there! Of what I’m not certain, all humans just sound the same to me. Just mumbled up bubbled up speech that’s not so elegant. And she just goes on and on and on…

…and now she’s crying?

Oh gods, this is even worse than the talking! Its so damn loud!!

I immediately shoot up to my feet to escalate my feelings of disapproval, but she merely smiles at me with just a brief relapse into her tears, before continuing again, reaching out to touch my stone again.

No, I cannot deal with this. I cannot put up with this interruption any longer. I swear to Bastet I tried my best, but my patience has worn away. I arch my back and give her a vicious hiss. This normally does the trick, and she seems momentarily startled until a different sensation startles me.

It’s a chilling touch upon the bottom of my paws-no, not so much chilling but absolutely frigid! Like icicles have suddenly sprung beneath my paws! I leap off my stone and stare at it dumbfounded

Has it rejected me?

Has it chosen this women over ME??

No, that can’t be possible.

But it is. Because My Stone never treated me like this until now.

Well fine, if it wants the woman, it can have her. There are plenty of other Stones out there that I can sleep upon. As a matter of fact, perhaps this was just the first stone I slept on, I might’ve been missing out! No doubt there’s an even better Stone waiting for me.

----

There isn’t. After just a couple of mornings, I cannot find a single Stone that provides that same warmth. Not a single stone has a tree that sounds like my tree! My gods, I’m losing my beauty sleep.

Even after the woman left, the next day I tried returning upon my Stone, but it still rejected me! My gods, what have I done in my past nine lives to deserve such a cruel fate?

Obviously, the Stone seems attached to the woman for whatever weird reason. So fine. I will try my best to beseech her. I only hope she returns soon.

----

It’s been seven bloody days and nights and she only just now decides to show up. Carrying another head of flowers that she places down by my Stone. I wait for her to sit before I make my approach.

I greet her the same way that I greeted my Stone before, meowing as I come upon her. She seems startled at first but makes no plan on running. I’m not worried, because all humans crave the same thing. My attention.

So, I give it to her the same way I gave to my Stone, circling around her with meows followed by rubbing my majestic coat on her with deep purring, pretending to let her know that I’m enjoying this much more than she does.

And of course it works, as she reaches down and scratches behind my ears. I must admit it feels rather good, and her hand gives off a warmth that is familiar. She asks her words in what I consider to be a questioning tone, I’m assuming she is asking for my name. What an utterly asinine question. Not because I don’t have one, I do, I call myself Stranger. But asinine in the fact that there is simply no way for me to communicate that to her.

However, the words that come out of her mouth do sound vaguely similar to Stranger. Hmm, that’s surprising.

I let her pet along my back. Feeling her claws dig oh so gently into my spine, as I sit and stare upon my Stone. Ah, being this close to it again makes me realize even more how much I missed it. I had planned on standing here rather majestically, but I somehow just feel sorrowful and regretful for my actions before. The Stone has done nothing but provide me love before and all I did in return was trying to scare off a woman who came to visit it. I have no idea about this woman’s connection to this stone, but she seems to care for it too. Perhaps she feels the same warmth I feel.

I try my best to convey my condolences through my stare back into my Stone, and it seems to accept it. I feel a warm energy inviting me to come and lie down upon it. So slowly I move up and circle it exactly three times again, rubbing my sides with deep purrs. Then I hesitate just a split second before leaping upon it. Its surface is no longer frigid or deathly cold, instead it radiates that same warmth as before.

I beam up to the lady sitting before me, and she beams back. She again asks me some words in a questioning tone again, and the only word I seem to have vague understanding is ‘Grandma’. I’ve heard it repeated often enough from the litter of their kind to the older adults, though I don’t quite know what it means. I know what Ma means but is Grand some sort of title? Hm, it seems only fitting for my Stone to have one.

It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I finally have my Stone back, and it has me. Quite frankly that’s all I care about.

I circle around in place atop my Stone three more times before curling up and closing my eyes. Again, its warmth is radiating, and I hear the familiar crispy rustling of leaves above me. And unfortunately, the woman keeps talking. But I figure I can put up with it for one day, if it means I can keep my Stone for the rest of the week.

But something is different this time. The woman is no longer crying or sobbing, but rather speaking in a most pleasant of ways, and even seems to laugh a few times. And her voice seems to have its own warmth that lures me deep into sleep.

---

The next time, I’m just as eager to see her as I am the time before that, and the time before that. The woman actually visits my Stone so often now that I’ve begun to refer to her as My Woman now. And My Woman has caused a bit of a disruption in my little ritual. Now I get here a little earlier and wait by my Stone for her to arrive. And when she does, she is the one who greets me. Though I’m just as excited to see her now as she is me. Which I know sounds quite odd considering how we started this whole thing. And if that sounds odd, then you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that I sometimes allow her to take me back with her. But mostly I enjoy my stone yard and my concrete jungle, so I don’t always stay for long and she seems fine with that. Which is good.

It is amazing how much has changed between the three of us. But I can’t imagine not going without my ritual of listening to her voice for more than a few days now. There is warmth, and softness to it, that seems to get greater every time.

Maybe one day I will go home with her and stay there. But for now, I still have My Stone, and that makes me happy. And I still don’t know what a Grandma is, but it must be pretty important.