An Army of Cats

Mavis looked around her makeshift art studio – the place where she would isolate herself from the world for the next month. Stacks of clean canvases waited to be transformed. Brand new paints, pastels and brushes her parents gave her at college graduation last month were neatly arranged in clear plastic bins. Her easel was angled just right to catch the morning sun that streamed in through the large picture window.  

In exchange for house sitting for her aunt and caring for her two cats, Mavis had been gifted this guest room as a place to hone her craft. But where to begin... She tied on her clean new painting smock and looked out the window at the trees, which surrounded the house for miles. She was a 20-minute drive from the nearest town. But she had everything she needed for now, and her aunt had left enough cat food and litter to feed an army of cats. She promised herself she would fill some of these canvasses before she ventured into town to explore and do more shopping. 

But her mind was blank, until she thought of that phrase again -- an army of cats. She looked at Sandy, the beautiful red, black and white calico, who sat patiently watching her from the sunny windowsill; and then at Sylvester, her aunt’s Siamese cat who stood alert, his piercing blue eyes tracking a squirrel in a tree outside the window. It felt as if the two cats were standing guard, waiting for Mavis to pick up a brush and get started. They were her only companions for the month, the only living, breathing things she would see most days. Why not start by painting them?

As she scanned the paint colors, a vision began to form in her mind. She started with Sandy, combining red and yellow to get the perfect blend, before adding in black and white to recreate the intricate mix of colors that made up her fur coat. Then she focused on Sylvester, mixing up several shades of gray and brown to recreate his regal and muscular body. She stood back and admired what she had done. Now for the rest of the cats. After mixing red, yellow and blue in every possible combination, she painted 10 more cats, all different sizes and shapes and fur patterns. The stars were out by the time she put down her brush.

Mavis yawned as she set the canvas to dry, cleaned up, and left the studio. She made herself a light dinner from the groceries she had purchased earlier, sitting alone at the small kitchen table. The house was eerily quiet. After dinner, she moved to the lumpy living room sofa and flipped through the channels on the old TV. She went to sleep feeling alone in the dark house, and grateful for her two companions, who curled up beside her in bed. 

***

The sun came into her room early. The window blinds were open, and stripes of light reflected on the wall in front of her bed. Mavis yawned and stretched before getting up and heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day. As she was brushing her teeth she heard the faraway sound of a cat meowing, and then a sharper sound, almost like a baby crying. That must be Sylvester. Her aunt had warned her that Siamese cats are quite vocal. She got dressed, and by the time she went downstairs, the two cats were both crying anxiously and pacing in front of the front door. What did they want? They were allowed outside, but her aunt said they’d be in the kitchen waiting for food first thing in the morning.

Mavis opened the door and yelped in surprise. There were cats, a whole bunch of them, sitting on the front porch and lawn. She scanned the group, counting 8, 9, 10 cats outside, plus her two, made a dozen cats. The hair rose on her arms as she stared at the scene. She slammed the door and ran up to her studio, her whole body trembling. She picked up the picture from the table where it was drying and yes – the cats outside were almost identical to the ones she had painted. She dropped the canvas. Okay, Mavis, calm down. Slow deep breathes. There’s a logical explanation for this. Maybe I saw those cats in town yesterday and just didn’t remember. Or maybe it’s just a big fat coincidence. Sure, it’s possible I drew 10 cats and those exact cats happened to show up at my house the next morning.

But then something else occurred to Mavis – something that defied logic but seemed the only possible explanation. Maybe anything she painted would appear before her eyes the next day. Maybe she was a witch, or this house was magic, or someone had cast a spell on her paints. There was only one way to find out. Mavis quickly ate breakfast and fed her cats, putting a huge bowl of food and water outside for the others, who had made themselves at home on her front lawn. Then she went back to her art studio. 

She picked up another blank canvas, the same set of paints as yesterday and put on her now-stained smock. But what would she draw? What did she want?  Well, there were a lot of things she wanted, but she wasn’t sure how this power worked. Maybe something terrible would happen if she didn’t use it wisely. Isn’t that what always happened in movies? People got too cavalier with their power and the next thing you know they destroyed the world, or an entire population of people was wiped out. Get a grip, Mavis. That’s not going to happen. Just come up with something small and innocent like cats. But what…

Then it came to her, and she smiled. If this worked, it would be a wonderful surprise, and if not, well, hopefully no harm done. Her aunt’s house was drab and dated, the cushions on the tweed couch sagging, the kitchen cabinets were practically falling off the hinges and the front porch railing was falling apart. I’d better not change the front of the house. The neighbors are probably already wondering about the cats. They might get really suspicious if the outside of the house changes visibly overnight. But the inside... She could surprise her aunt with a newly designed  living room and kitchen. She just had to picture it and draw it, and with any luck it would turn into reality when she woke up tomorrow. She still had a long month ahead of her in this house, and new furnishings would certainly make it more homey, help her feel less isolated. 

Mavis already missed her friends terribly, and wondered if she made the right choice staying home instead of going to Europe with them for the month. They were visiting six cities, including London and Paris, staying in youth hostels and travelling by highspeed rail from one adventure to the next. They begged her to go, but she didn’t want to spend the money. Plus, she had promised her aunt months ago that she would house sit before she started her job hunt. It was nice here in the country, especially with all the cats, but her life had gone from one nonstop house party to living alone in the woods in just a few short weeks. What do I have to lose by trying to make this house nicer.  Heck, I’m going to paint a picture today anyway, so I might as well try. If it doesn’t work, nobody will know how crazy I am -- except me. 

It was a long day of painting. Mavis wanted every detail to be perfect. She knew her aunt liked calm colors, so she drew the living room in blush tones and grays, with a large comfy sectional sofa and big coffee table with a matching area rug. Plus, one of those big screen TVs and a little bar area where her aunt could keep her bottles of wine and something called Harvey’s Bristol Cream. I don’t even want to know what that tastes like.

For the kitchen she drew white cabinets and black marbled counters, just like they showed on all the decorating shows. She made an island in the middle with chairs around it, and mixed grays and whites to create stainless steel appliances. She was pleased with the result, and hoped she hadn’t missed anything. She made herself another simple meal, and decided to let in the cats into the house before she went to sleep. They had been making a racket out there on the lawn since it got dark, and she wanted to keep them safe. After all, she had created them. 

Mavis was woken up not by the light coming through the window, but by the feel of something pressing down on her, and something tickling her face. Her eyes shot open. Seven cats were on the bed with her, one laying on her chest with his tail swaying up and back across her face. Four were cuddled up at her feet and another two were on her pillow, one practically wrapped up in her hair. Okay, the cats are still here. That has to mean something. But what am I going to find when I go downstairs? She felt a bit foolish to think that the living room and kitchen could have transformed. That was a far cry from 10 cats showing up on your lawn. This would be the test of her powers - and how far she could take them.

She took her time getting ready, afraid to see what may or may not have happened to  her aunt’s little cottage. When she finally walked down the stairs, cats moving between her legs and meowing loudly, she blinked twice, unable to believe what she was seeing. The scene in front of her was a real-life version of the picture she painted, right down to the color of the walls and the pattern in the area rug. It looked like a different house, brighter, cleaner and more welcoming. She walked over and sat down on the soft cushions of the large sofa, sinking into it. The cats followed, surrounding her, their hungry mews softening for a moment as they, too, seemed to be processing the changes to the room. Mavis could have sat there all day, but she had a kitchen to see, and many mouths to feed.

Walking from the stylish new living room into the modern kitchen, she took in every detail of the space, details that were at once foreign and very familiar. The kitchen was perfect – every detail replicating her painting. She fed her cats and then sat at the clean new kitchen island to eat her own breakfast before she returned to the comfy sofa to process what had happened over these past two days. She couldn’t believe she was going through all this alone. She desperately wished she could talk to someone about what was happening, but she couldn’t exactly call her friends and try to explain.  They’ll think I’ve lost my mine – and it’s quite possible I have. 

An intense wave of loneliness caused a lump in her throat.  As she stared at her big-screen TV, the cats purring loudly around her, she felt overwhelmed by weight to this new power she had discovered. She could use it to feed the hungry, to house the homeless, but thinking about that made her brain hurt. She was only 22, and she wasn’t sure what was right, what was ethical or even if her powers would go beyond this small country house. Maybe it was best she didn’t push her luck. But as an idea formed in her mind, she realized what she needed to do. There was risk to the next painting she wanted to draw. Maybe a big risk. But she had to give it a try.

She left her cats napping on the new couch as she went back upstairs to her studio. She took her third canvas in three days, tied on her painting smock and contemplated what she was about to draw. The decision was made – there was no turning back. She focused on this project more intently than she had ever focused on any painting. 

It was late in the day before she finished. She was hungry and tired, but she felt at peace, prepared to face the consequences of what she had just done. She took one last look at the canvas before she moved it to the same spot she had put the others to dry overnight. Looking back at her were the smiling faces of her four best college friends. They were sitting on the new couch in her living room, surrounded by her 12 cats. The picture had come out exactly how she planned it. But what if something goes horribly wrong? What if I’ve gone too far, trying to manipulate time and space? But she couldn’t let herself think that way. The decision was made, and the paint was already starting to dry. 

Mavis started to feel better as she ate her dinner and took care of her cats. Before she went upstairs for the night, she straightened up the house for her visitors. As she settled into bed that night surrounded by her cats, she said a little prayer that she would wake up to the doorbell ringing and the squealing voices of her friends. Her logical mind told her it could never happen. This is insane. It doesn’t make any sense. But in her heart, in her soul, she knew they were already on their way, and her summer of magic and adventure was just beginning.