Typo

L…o…ll…y…

A twisted treat suddenly fell from her father’s wall-mounted file rack, and she caught it, barely, and gave it a gentle blow. Ruby had seen a lot of really swirly sweets, but nothing compared to this. It had a strange mix of colours: periwinkle and tangerine tango, and where the white should normally be was a gloomy grey, like a smudged marble.

Ruby had also eaten a lot of really swirly sweets, and this one tasted better than she’d ever eaten. She sat in her father’s office chair, eating the treat, and listening to the impressive stability of her father’s snoring through the house walls, or what her mum often called his nightly soundtrack, genre: death metal.

Ruby finished her treat with a little lippy smile, knelt on her father’s office chair, and typed…

T…o…y

It missed her head and hit the desk with a loud sound and bounced off the desk and landed on the carpet with a muffle. A doll, non-creepy yet a little ghostly. It had straggly blond hair, with the face-mood of a nervous moth. It didn’t look happy at all. Ruby picked up the doll and noticed a small pockmark on its porcelain temple.

‘Aw, poor dolly,’ Ruby whispered. ‘Did you bump your head when you falled?’ Ruby looked at the doll, who said nothing. Then, in a wave of worry, she placed the doll on its back on her father’s desk and began typing.

B…a…n… Ban…d…

She knew it was spelled strangely and couldn’t decide. She wriggled forth from the chair and ran out of the room until her feet were slapping against the oddly long bathroom hallway as she headed towards the pearly white cabinet. She rummaged in the bottom drawer and found the band-aids. These band-aids were designed with little healing potions all over them, which she thought were sort of like magic. She took only one and dashed back to her father’s office, sat back on her father’s chair, and gently held the fragile doll.

Ruby tried her best, though she was just too clumsy to get the band-aid on right. What if she dropped it the doll? It looked indignant for a second, so Ruby placed the doll beside her on the chair, hopped off, and operated while standing.

‘All better,’ she said after the, what, fourth attempt? With it finally on, the band-aid resembled a piece of melted plastic and maybe something like a collapsed magic scroll, with pictures of crinkled elixirs folded in on themselves, looking like little fish mouths gasping for air.

Ruby placed the doll on her father’s desk, then knelt back on the chair and…a delicate smile crept into existence.

R…u…b…y

Her name, pure and simple. And…clink. It happened fast. The doll’s face now had a rictus of pain and a new crack across its forehead. Ruby yelped in its stead. She glanced at the floor, where the red gem now glimmered with satisfaction.

The guilt was getting terribly effective as the seconds went by, and the only way the girl found she could keep herself from crying was to put the doll down and forget everything that just happened. To do that, she would need to keep typing, manifesting, before her father woke up, anyway, so she was on the computer again, typing and waiting briefly.

Socks. Pen. Fish, the latter flopping in breathless rebellion. She frantically scooped up the little shimmer of scales, keeping it safe in her small hands before flushing it down the toilet. Then she rushed back to the computer and…

What else? Where else might her imagination and limited spelling abilities take her?

Suddenly, a little glow of grin, a real moonshine smile. She couldn’t help it; it was the perfect image, all silvery surface and metallic glint. She knew what she had to do—what she could do—but did she? The thing always looked small in the sky, she mused. It could fit right here. She could carry it and even wear it as a necklace and shine it through the rain, and on some nights, no matter how thick and strict the sky was, it couldn’t hide it because it would be with her down here on Earth, and she would scatter it over everything. Or maybe she’d eat it. There was a cheeky thought. That’d get a right laugh from the other children. Maybe then she’d…

M…o…o… *backspace*

No, not yet. First, she would go for what she had originally wanted, what she had been planning ever since her father said, ‘No, I’m allergic to cats, and it’ll be up to mum and I to take care of it, won’t it?’

C…b…a…t

Ruby sat back, pleased with herself. She snatched the doll into her arms and looked up. It wouldn’t be raining a cat on them today. Ten seconds, twenty…nothing. She looked back at the computer screen and the bold lacework spelt…Cbat.

That made her giggle, then it didn’t. Suddenly, there was the sound of something eerie, otherworldly, in fact. It came from somewhere atop a tall cabinet at the back corner of the room, tucked in shadow at the very top, a shadow that might have stretched for miles beyond any perceived boundary. That was the thing about darkness, Ruby felt. It hardly gave answers, only shivers.

And sometimes, a blend of chirp and purr.

Ruby jumped to her feet, not even noticing she had dropped her doll, her slender frame turned towards the door, the placement of her feet, ready to bolt at any moment. She’d done it this time. She thought that’s what happens when you don’t learn your spelling. But she could spell cat perfectly. C-A-T. Stupid. A slip of the finger, then.

It emerged, first as a ripple in the shadow, then a swell. Ruby shuddered as the darkness parted to reveal the contours defining its form.

She did not run. Instead, she was frozen, and the only thing that moved was her little heart, thumping against her chest like some imprisoned innocent, screaming, ‘Let me out, let me out.’

She stood in silence, and the…creature (for it was undeniably a creature) sounded, ‘Eeeeek,’ then said, yes, with words, ‘What hath thy fancy wrought now!’

It flapped its bony wings but made a misery of flying and landed gracefully on all four paws instead.

‘Verily, I bear the semblance of a wrym! I said, what hath thy fancy wrought now!” When Ruby didn’t answer, it finished with, “Fancy meaning thy wit, thy imagination, child!

‘I…I didn’t do anything.

‘Nonsense! Wait…say that again…I didn’t do anything, was it?’

Ruby nodded, slowly.

‘Ah, so you speak as I am speaking now. My bad.’ It made a deliberate clearing of its throat, hacked up fur. It looked up, casual as any cat (or part-cat) would be, and said,

‘Thank you very much for this. Really.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Ruby said, relaxing a little.

‘Sarcasm isn’t your strong suit. That’s alright. But I am thankful. I exist because of you. How long have I lingered in thy…your imagination?

‘You’re supposed to be a cat,’ Ruby said.

That was like a nail right through his foot, it seemed. ‘I am a Cbat.’

‘I was supposed to type cat, but I accidentally put a letter b.’

‘Do you know what a Freudian slip is?’

Ruby shook her head.

The creature sighed. ‘Very well. So, you typoed me into existence, then.’ It thought about this. ‘Gosh, it could just as easily have been the letter r instead of a b you know. Then I’d have been part rodent—a cat and a rat! How’s that for an existential crisis? Can you show me the genesis machine that brought me to this point?’

Ruby stared, shrugged.

‘The computer.’

Ruby turned and pointed at her father’s computer, like a beacon in the darkness, sharp and bright.

The creature walked towards the computer, sniffed the misplaced doll, and jumped onto the desk in one smooth motion, wings idle. In the light, the creature was a jigsaw of black, brown, and orange fur, though its tail was pure white.

It scanned the screen, with its scarcely pronounced snout up front, then said, ‘I can’t read it. Ha, go figure!’ The creature twisted its head right, towards the door, and nearly grimaced, if it were capable of such a thing. ‘What is that god-awful, guttural noise? It’s like a Titan’s burp that never stops.’

‘That’s my dad’s snoring. He fell asleep on the lounge.’

‘Dante’s hidden level of hell, man! It’s lawless—godless!’

Ruby climbed her father’s chair and began typing.

‘What now?’ The creature said.

N…E…T

It was a net for tigers, not small creatures, and it thumped down, trapping them both.

‘Really?’ The creature said, imperiously.

Ruby pulled the net off her, knocked a few items from her father's desk for a change.

‘You know, if you’re going to play tricks, I’d rather not be here.’ Its wings catching, the creature wriggled through one of the mesh openings, hopped off the table, and paced towards the door.

‘Wait,’ Ruby said. ‘Can you help me spell stuff?’

‘I can’t read, so no.’ The creature drew near the door.

‘Wait!’ Ruby climbed down from the chair. ‘What’s your name?’

‘The creature paused, dimly lit by the hallway light. ‘My name?’ It turned. ‘Why, I don’t have one.’

‘Where are you going to go?’

‘I don’t know! Wherever cbats go to. I imagine something like a dark cave filled with plenty of mice and plush objects.’

‘Do you wanna be my friend?’ Ruby said.

‘Your friend?’

‘What about my pet?’

‘Not in a million catnip dreams.’

‘Okay. My friend.’

The creature thought long and hard. ‘No.’

‘You stink.’

‘I’m kidding. Sure, I’ll be your friend.’

‘Okay…but you still stink a little bit.’

The creature paused, giving the insult room to breathe. ‘Friend. What you said was like a sharp blow to the shin. But it’s all in the past. Those few seconds now behind us. Come. Let’s see where else your imagination takes us. Oh, and call me cbat, pronounced ka-bat. Just keep it brief and don’t overthink it. And don’t open your mouth much when you say it; that’ll keep it quick and sharp as a curse. What’s your name?’

‘Ruby.’

Cbat blinked at her slowly, set his sights on the Ruby gem lying near her feet, and stared back, blinking once more. ‘Ruby, eh? What sort of trickery hast thou practiced? Hoping to summon a twin from the ether?’

Ruby just shrugged. ‘What’s ether?

‘Ah, the ether… oh. Oh no, no, no! You mustn't ask such things!’

Ruby nodded obsequiously. ‘What do you want to do now?’

Cbat nodded solemnly. ‘That’s a good question. And thy life’s quality is shaped by the questions thou askest, you dig? Thing is, ‘tis the right question we must ask, like, what do we have to do now! And the answer is, we must destroy the computer.

Ruby frowned and shook her head. ‘No. That’s my dad’s.’

‘He won’t hear a thing,’ the creature riposted. The sound of snoring reappeared. ‘Look, you’ve made me remember that I come from the ether, a constellation of magical bonds. The edge of creation. It can’t be touched, only reached through deep prayer, dreams, or, as it appears, a Goggle Chrome document. And now that I remember, I know the connection must be severed. The gateway is here! We must henceforth destroy it. Meanwhile, go play outside tomorrow. Make some real friends.’

Ruby blinked, then her mouth curled into a perfect sad smile. Her eyes grew warm, and her vision fogged. ‘I just wanted a cat.’

Cbat exasperated a sigh. ‘No, you wanted a friend who wouldn’t speak up or tease—oh.’

Ruby wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘It’s my dad’s. I’ll get in trouble.’

‘I’ll talk to your father.’

Ruby shook her head. ‘But then I can’t get a cat. And I want one.’

‘Oh deary, what you want is a friend. I see that now.’ A taut silence filled the room, shattered by distant snoring. ‘Maybe we don’t need to destroy the entire computer. Maybe all we need to do is uninstall the window or reboot the whole thing. Yes, that’s it! Come!’

Cbat leapt to the computer, while Ruby climbed onto her father's chair.

‘Alright then... do you know how to uninstall or reboot?’

Ruby shook her head.

‘Delightful.’

‘You can just click the x in the corner and the page goes away.’

‘Mmm, no. That won’t do. We must destroy it entirely. I’m sorry.’

Ruby shook her head. ‘I said no. Wait until mum gets home from work. She’s scarier than dad.’

‘Let’s see.’ The creature arrogantly hopped to behind the computer, paws dodging wires. ‘Somebody, call the gardener, ‘cause you’ve got bramble.’

‘What are you doing?’ Ruby said.

‘Locating the origin. Then tomorrow I'll take you outside and help you find some real friends. Everything you could ever want is out there, in the real world.’

‘I said no!’ Ruby leaned leftward and watched Cbat rummage through the wired snarl, chewing on some, clawing at others. There was nothing exaggerated about any of it. The creature really meant to destroy the computer.

T…R…A…P

No good. Like a mouse trap without any bait and left unset.

B…A…R…E  *Space*  T…R…A…P

It was certainly a much barer trap. A sticky trap. Just a little sticky, portable surface for ants.

Frustrated, though beaming with an artful grin, Ruby went for the unimaginable.

C…R…A… She stopped, slowly forsaking her little trick. But even so, she’d come this far…

T.

It came squeaking and hissing, its hybrid form maybe the most hideous thing Ruby had ever seen. Knocked the winged cat right over behind the computer, writhing like a held snake, hissing and cursing.

‘How have I found thee, thou villain!’ the crat squeaked.

‘Rodent!’ Cbat hissed. ‘Whence hast thou come, pink-tailed furball!’

Ruby didn’t know what all that meant, but it sounded like Cbat was winning, for the crat screeched in spit-blood anger.

‘If we are to have us a little spat,’ Cbat continued, ‘then meet me on an open floor, without these foolish wires to manipulate us.’

‘Most excellent,’ the crat said, its furry grey back arched, a mountain that seemed to breathe, heave. It jumped to the floor, its wormy tail dragging behind.

After half a minute of flailing about, Cbat crashed to the floor at the side of the desk and paced its way to the open floor.

‘A war of attrition, then,’ Cbat said, and addressed Ruby with, ‘I take it back, Ruby. Get that thing running again!’

The two creatures pounced at each other, tangling into a single knot.

What did he mean by running again?

Ruby turned, aghast to find a pitch-sable screen. The emptiness…

She sprung from the chair and crawled beneath the desk. It was much too hard to discern anything in the dark. Light from the hallway flirted with most of the room, but not this far. Yet there, in the shape and dim whiteness of a birch stick, lay the power cord, metal prongs revealed.

Ruby had a plan. ‘I need your eyes!’ She yelled. ‘Cats can see in the dark!’

‘Hush thyself, loutish brat!’ the crat said.

‘Modern English, fool!’ Cbat retorted. ‘People don’t speak like that here. Not anymore. Though between you and I, Shakespeare said it best: Villain, I have done thy mother!’

The fighting continued.

Ruby hurried to the door and flung it open as wide as she could. That afforded the desk area a little lighter. She hurried back, steering clear of the frenzied tangle, and climbed beneath the desk and to the back, where she plugged the cord into the wall socket. The computer sounded, and a stellar dart of light livened the room.

      She climbed the chair, and in less than a minute, she began to type.

M…O…O…

Something slung across her back now, claws dug into her sweater. Thank goodness for her snuggly sweater! Itch her it could, forever. It had her permission. But now the creature kept on, nibbling at her hair. Then it was gone, Cbat on top of it like an ocelot.

'MOOOOOOOOO.'

Was it a cow? Or, at least, an onomatopoeic imitation of one?

'MOOOOOOOOO.'

Ruby felt she might go mad.

‘You think yourself a titan among titmice, don’t you!’ Cbat hissed into the crat’s more rat-like than cat-like face. ‘Yet thou leavest not a single paw print upon the foundation of this world! Begone! Now, Ruby! Do it!’

Without hesitation, Ruby typed the only letter left to type:

Moo...N. 

In an instant, the entire room was brightened.

‘Ruby?’ Her mother’s voice. ‘Why are you still up? It’s past your bedtime.’

The two kittens that her family had been looking after for the neighbour zoomed out of the room, pouncing this way and that.

‘I want a cat,’ Ruby said, yawning.

‘Come on, to bed. I’ll tuck you in.’

***

How lovely it felt to be out her itchy sweater anyway and tucked half-asleep in squishy warmth.

‘Can I get a cat?’ She said, yawning widely now.

‘You saw what those two little crazies did to your father’s study tonight.’

‘I grown-up one. They’re not crazy.’

‘Let’s talk about it in the morning.’ Her mother kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodnight.’

The moon went out. And, at sometime during the night, the two little kittens jumped onto the bed, and lay at Ruby's feet, calm as any moonlit lake. They shifted around occasionally but mostly slept.

‘Thanks for playing with us, friend,’ one purred, perhaps to Ruby.

‘Hold thy tongue, prattler,’ the other growled. ‘She is in slumber.’