9 Lives

Rosa stared coldly at the calico cat perched on her kitchen counter as she dialed something into her phone. The calico glared just as sternly back at her.  

The receiver clicked and a cheerful clear voice came on the line. "Rosa! Mija, how are you? Do you like your present? 

"Tía-" Rosa exhaled deeply and slumped over, supporting herself on the kitchen counter with one arm. "Oliver just passed away. I'm not sure I'm ready for a new cat already."

“I know, Mija, but Belle is a great kitty! You’ll get along splendidly, I know it. And she belonged to a good friend of mine who just passed away, you know, Mr-"

"Mr. Blake, mama's elementary school teacher, yes I know." Rosa sighed and rubbed the side of her head. She looked into the reflection of a darkened window where she saw the cat pawing at a vase, trying to knock it off the table. Rosa snatched it away and placed it firmly next to her. 

"Tía," Rosa said firmly. "It's very sweet of you, but this isn't going to work. 

"Please, amor? Please try."

"I can't. It's too soon and-" Rosa stopped abruptly as she heard a door slam and muffled words from another person over the line. 

"Oh Mija, I have to go, your Auntie Amelia just got home. Besos y abrazos!"

"Besos y abrazos . . ." Rosa hung up the phone and caught the eye of the unfamiliar cat. It gave her a disapproving glare as it slunk away. 

"Don't look at me like that." 

Later that night, Rosa set up the new bed that Tía Sofia had dropped off along with Belle. Because Tía felt so strongly about it, Rosa reluctantly put the cat's bed on the ledge of her bedroom window, where Oliver had slept. However, she kept Oliver's faded pink strawberry-shaped bed shut firmly away in her closet.

Rosa couldn't stand another hour awake, so she left the door open for whenever the cat felt like coming to sleep. Without even getting underneath her covers, Rosa let herself drift away. 

Drift away into a place where Oliver's warm little body and snores helped her sleep, and away to when her heart didn't feel like it was being weighed down by chainmail. 

The next morning, Rosa sat up and rubbed the grit from her eyes. Sitting on her window sill was the solemn cat illuminated in a shaft of light. It stared at her reproachfully. 

They stared at each other for a moment, Rosa and Belle. 

The new cat was the complete opposite of Oliver. Oliver was dark, but the new cat was pale with occasional splotches of orange. Oliver was short and soft, but this cat was lean and sleek. Oliver had amber eyes, but this cat had cold blue ones. 

Rosa huffed and turned back over into her muss of blankets and sheets. All was calm for a few moments and then the cat leaped off the window sill and knocked over the necklace Rosa's mother gave her. On the chain was a picture of Oliver and a little hourglass bottle of some of his ashes.

Rosa lept out of bed and grabbed her necklace. It was cracked, and a little ash was starting to seep out. A surge of bitterness and anger washed over her. 

She turned on the cat and jerked her arm towards the door. "That's it." She slowly extended her pointer finger. "Go." 

The cat just leaped up on her bed. It curled up on Rosa's pillow and stared at her, showing no intention of leaving. 

Rosa's anger spiked again. She was still dressed from yesterday, so she grabbed her sneakers from off her dresser and stormed out of the room. 

She crammed her feet into her worn sneakers, which slid in easily. This was not an uncommon thing for Rosa to do. She often took walks when she was upset, and she usually didn't take the time to put on shoes correctly when she did. 

Rosa stumbled out onto the sidewalk with her hands stuck inside her pockets and unconsciously towards the cemetery where Oliver had been buried a few days before. 

A vast majority of the cemetery where Rosa lived was devoted to burying people but there was a small corner where owners could lay their beloved pets to rest. 

Rosa passed by each grave and recognized every one.

The Bernes' canaries, little Mia's rabbit, Ava, the kind old dog belonging to the twins . . . 

And finally Oliver. 

The dirt above him was new. Surrounding him were all toys he adored and treats he could only have on special occasions. 

Tears pricked in Rosa's eyes. She sat down quietly and traced the letters on his tombstone. -Oliver Rivera-

After a moment of thought, Rosa reached out and pulled a few yellow dandelions from the earth. She laid them gently on Oliver's grave. 

Rosa heard a rustle that snapped her out of her dazed state. Her head jerked in the direction of the rustle. A few yards away was a small shadowed figure hunched over. It was looking up at another slab of stone engraved with the name of someone gone to rest.

It was Belle. 

Rosa blinked. How did she get out of the house? Had she left the door open? What was she doing here? 

Quiet again, Rosa walked over and sat down next to Belle, who ignored her. Rosa tilted her head to get a look at the name that Belle was staring at.

"Blake Desota- oh. Oh-" Rosa changed her gaze from the tombstone to Belle. "Your owner?" 

Belle did nothing to confirm or deny. Her tail only twitched, then she went back to being a statue. How could she possibly know where a specific grave was? She must have been at his funeral. 

Rosa placed one palm on the soft grass to support herself and leaned back to tug another dandelion from the ground. She placed it at Belle's feet. 

Belle looked at Rosa with that solemn gaze that Rosa was so accustomed to. Belle nudged it onto the stone that covered Blake Destota. 

They sat there together in silence. Early morning light became a mid-morning glow that washed everything in warmth and color. 

Rosa outstretched one hand and scratched Belle behind one ear. 

Belle showed no sign of approval. She showed no sign of leaving either. 

They were not friends, but an alliance.

Lonely and connected by loss.