Animal Instinct

        It was a particularly breezy summer day, so I decided to walk home from my office job in Chelsea. I thought 30 minutes in the sun would do me good after a long afternoon reminding my boss how a computer works. I had just crossed 3^rd Ave when I noticed the same two men in suits that passed me in Union Square.

“It’s fine.” I thought to myself. “New York’s a big place. Lots of people in suits.”

I continued home, but intentionally switched my route to take an obscure path that’s usually empty. If they were still behind me, then I’d know for sure something was up. I took my android phone from my pocket and held it up without activating the screen, a great mirror on a sunny day. There they were, walking side by side, not talking to each other. I put my phone away and tried to look as nonchalant as possible until I could reach the corner and sprint away. But before I could reach the next street, a third man in a similar gray suit blocked my path.

“Hey kid.” He said to me. “Where you headed?”

“Nowhere. Home. The movies.” I stumbled to find an answer that would get me in the least trouble.

“We’re going that way too.” He said. “Why don’t you walk with us?”

I looked behind me and the other two had caught up with us. I didn’t really have a choice.

“Sure.” I answered.

For people heading the same direction, he sure did lead the way a lot. At one point, we reached a sandwich shop on Spring Street. I was ushered inside by the two goons behind me. The inside looked sterile and bland, like it hadn’t been fully decorated yet. A middle-aged man in a black, pin-striped suit sat at a booth. I was brought to his table and sat across from him. The man who led us here walked behind the counter. The other two sat by the door. I nervously accepted the situation and looked to the man before me.

“What’s your name, son?” He spoke with a dry, raspy voice.

“Uh- Doug.” I lied.

“That’s okay.” He shrugged slightly. “You don’t have to tell me. You passed by my restaurant this morning. Do you remember that?”

It was true. I had an early breakfast date nearby. Who was this man? Did he know my date? Was she in trouble?

“I do.” I managed to say, after realizing my instinct was not to answer.

“You met a friend of mine outside. He took quite a liking to you.”

“I’m sorry. Do you mean the cat?” I was very confused.

“Yes.” He answered simply. “Chester! Come here, boy.” Following the command, the black cat I had stopped to play with on my way to work stepped out from a back room. He stopped just shy of our table and sat on the floor.

Meow.

“Chester, come up here. Show our company some respect.” The man reasoned with the cat.

Meow. Chester sat there, looking at the man as if he didn’t hear him. Then, he turned to me. He slowly rose and leapt beside me on the booth. He wanted attention.

“You see this? You see how he treats me?” The man opened up to me. “I give him everything. A cozy bed, top of the line scratching post. He eats better than Laurence there.” He gestured to the suited man standing behind the counter, presumably Laurence.

“Boss, can I eat something? I’m so hungry.” Laurence pleaded.

“Shut up!” His boss silenced him. “I’m busy here. You see me busy here!”

“Yes, boss.” Laurence put his attention back on the register.

“I’m sort of in a bind here.” The boss said to me as he interlocked his fingers over the table. “You see, that’s my daughter’s cat. She don’t think too highly of me, and I’m trying to change that. That’s why I’m cat-sitting while she’s away with her mother. But she’s got this idea in her head that Chester’s a good a judge of character. And when she saw how distant he was with me… I could tell it meant something to her. Ever though he’s a cat!” He shouted this last line at Chester. Chester stopped nuzzling my hand, looked up at the man coldly, and returned his attention to me.

“So I need you to tell me how to get this punk to like me.” He summed up his point.

“I don’t really know…” I answered him as best I could. “He just seems to like me. Maybe don’t shout at him as much?”

The man leaned back in his seat. “I had hoped you’d be more forthcoming. I’d hate to have to let Moss and Arturo take you out back and show you around. They really wanted to, but I told them no. He’ll be reasonable. Why wouldn’t he help me reconnect with my daughter? So, why won’t you help me reconnect with my daughter?”

“I’m sorry.” I said. “What happens when you pet him?” I picked up Chester and handed him to the man across from me. Chester hissed.

“Pet him.” I instructed the boss. He did, but he did it so awkwardly. It looked like he had never tried to show affection to an animal. “Gently. Come on, you just watched me pet him.”

“I got it, I got it!” The man adjusted his petting method and Chester stopped hissing. “Now what?” He asked me.

“Just sit there and pet him.” I said.

We sat there for a while, in near silence, while he pet the cat.

“So,” He said strangely, “How long have you been in New York?”

I had to think about it. “Four years.” I answered him.

“Came here for school? You an actor?”

“For school.” I said.

“NYU?”

I nodded.

“Good school.” He nodded too, in approval. “I went there, in the eighties.”

“No kidding.” I made small talk. “What was your major?”

“Interior design.” He said.

“Ah.” I looked around at the room.

“I got a lotta stuff going on. I haven’t had time to really set the place up.” He defended himself.

“Of course. You’ve got this… business.”

He could tell I suspected this place was a front, and he changed the subject. “How about you? What are you studying?”

“Philosophy.” I told him.

He chuckled. “So you like thinking about thinking about thinking about stuff.”

“Sometimes.” I confirmed. “Sometimes I just think about it.”

He laughed. “You hungry? Laurence’ll make you a sandwich.”

“I’m good. Thank you.” Truth be told, I was hungry. But I couldn’t trust anything here.

“Could I make myself a sandwich, boss?” Laurence asked.

“If I catch one leaf of lettuce missing, Laurence, I will end you! Do you hear me? One leaf!”

Laurence returned to looking at the register.

“So that’s it, huh? I just pet him, and don’t yell at him, and he’ll like me?”

“I think so. It’s hard to guarantee a cat will like anyone, but they usually react better when you’re relaxed around them.”

“Okay. Simple enough.” The boss said. “Laurence, give him your phone!”

“Why do I gotta give him my phone for?” Laurence protested.

“Laurence! Laurence. Give him your phone.” The boss demanded.

Laurence begrudgingly took out his phone and handed it to me. Then, he went back to looking down at the register.

“I may reach out if I have any more questions.” The boss told me.

“That’s… fine.” I said, coming to the conclusion that it actually was.

“You know your way home from here?” He asked.

“I’ll be fine.” I stood up and headed for the door. I stopped before leaving and turned back to him. “Good luck with everything. I hope things work out with your daughter.” He nodded and I left.

When I got home that night, I called my mother and explained to her everything that had happened. I told her if I ever went missing, to tell the police it was probably that man. I didn’t know his name, and I couldn’t remember the name of that sandwich shop, but I knew I was never going to pet a mystery animal ever again.

…Until the next day, when a golden retriever was waiting for its owner outside a taco place.