Nim's Dream

I sit, hidden, in the tall wild grasses and flowers, a place no one would think to look for me. In my lap is Nim, the cat that stalks the outskirts of my village. He sits up straight and prim looking me in the eyes. I ruffle up his fluffy black fur with a rough playful rub. His reaction, bending away from my hand and - I swear - glaring back at me, makes me giggle aloud. 

I lay back, folded my arms under my head, and sighed longingly toward the vast empty sky. Not a single cloud in the light blue space. I feel the pressure from tiny paws as they progress toward my chest. As I look at Nim, he lies comfortably and glares back at me. 

“Nim..” I let out a timid warning. He wants to play his game - but I am not in the mood today, so I lay back and keep my eyes on the sky. I want to enjoy time here with him. If I stay awake - the game won’t start, and if it doesn’t start, I won’t lose it - or Nim. But the pressure of him lying on my chest is comforting, and I drift to sleep. 

Nim kneads me awake, his sharp claws digging in and out quickly with each pressured-filled paw press. I roll my eyes as I realize I am now in Nim’s game of tag. I try to refrain from reacting to the pins of pain, but in the end, I shove him to the ground while I sit up. It is my turn to glare at him. He is strolling over to the edge of the flattened area and stands half in the tall grass. He doesn’t turn to look back at me; he knows I will follow. 

“Just a short game,” I whine to him. Nim loves to play tag in a nightmare world’s darkest forest. It is fun, but the game’s midpoint always scares me. If I fail at the game, I wake up on the field as if it never happened. Nim gone, and I always feel cold and disappointed after. 

I get onto my hands and knees and crawl toward Nim. He senses me and proceeds further, always staying so I can see him. I limp after him for what seems like forever; my clothes always get torn and dirty when we play, but I feel like these games mean something to Nim, so I play them for him. 

We finally reach the hole in the ground, and Nim sits on one side and me on the other. Our eyes are locked as we prepare for the game; this ritual works; it makes me feel like we are a team and Nim is the only other soul on Earth. 

The hole is odd in a way. It sits like a den, its hood of packed dirt preventing anyone from stumbling in accidentally. But below the ground, the walls are smooth grey stone. 

Nim breaks eye contact first and jumps down the hole. Going down is my least favourite part of the game. Even if I have played this game before, the black bottom and the strange nature of the spot make me want to run home. Instead, I push my feet into the hole first, take one last look at the sky and then push the rest of myself to follow. 

It is pitch black; there’s no feeling of movement, almost like I shoved myself in and got stuck. I know better. I wait. 

“Meow!” Nim announces my arrival at the bottom of the hole. It’s still pitched back, but my head turns towards his sound, and I drop to my knees again to follow him. 

It smells of rotting wood and damp fur; the air is so thick that it is hard to breathe. I try to pace my breathing, forget about my lungs, and focus on the quiet sounds Nim makes for me to follow. 

I see some dim light bleeding in from ahead of us, and Nims’s body starts to come into focus. We make it toward the cave’s opening, and we stop there. The fresh air that envelops my lungs brings me pure joy. I glance at my clothes, but they don’t seem as dirty this time. I can keep them this way.

I step out of the cave, standing and stretching high. We have entered a thick-set forest of large fir trees; the spaces between them are cramped with brush and a few scattered saplings. The sun filters through the tall trees, and feeling its dimpled warmth on my skin after the cave’s darkness is delightful. 

Nim trails off into the woods, and I follow. I strain my ears, listening for any sounds out there. As we walk on, my attention is pulled away from Nim as I hear a meow behind us. I stop and look back. Another cat? 

In my entire life, the only cat I have ever seen was Nim. What would this other cat look like? My feet almost walk back the way we came, but I stop and pan around for the direction I had last seen Nim. He is gone. Slight panic starts to fill my gut. 

“Nim!” I whisper loudly, my eyes darting to every crevice and corner his tiny cat body could have hidden. He is not here; he has never left me before. I push forward, pushing down the panic, trying to take over. No, Nim would not leave me. We are fine. 

I walk several feet before a low hiss comes from a berry bush. Nim sits at its side, almost blending into it. Relief washes over me, and I rush to plop down beside him. I pick him up and bury my face into his fluffy neck. He lets me. After I let him go, he stands apart from me with his body low to the ground. 

Trying to fill my mind with thoughts other than my almost getting lost, I pluck some berries from the bush and shove them into my mouth. The taste is so sweet. I cringe as if I had just eaten something bitter, but it fades, and I enjoy the sweet berries. 

We wait. The sun goes down, and the light is almost completely gone under the trees. Nim lets out a soft singsong sound and walks to me, brushing his sides against my stretched legs. As I start to get up, he darts out into the trees. I scramble, trying to stay on his heels, but he is so fast; I am slow and noisy. 

I run, following the odd sounds Nim purposely makes for me. Every time he makes his sound, I need to readjust my direction to his. I am, as usual, incapable of running in a straight line. Finally, we make it to our destination. 

It is a hut, someone’s home in the woods. It is made of greying wood and looks like one touch would make it topple over. My heart flutters as I scooped up Nim and slowly walked to the little house. 

I hold Nim close, and his front paws turn for my shoulder. I release my grip, and he perches himself on my shoulders. His tail wraps around my neck, his back claws dig into one shoulder, and his front the other. Right beside my ear, I can hear his low growl. 

With my heart pounding and Nim’s growls flying around us, I head for the door. Once there, I push it open; it doesn’t resist or make any sounds of protest as I step through. 

Inside, I glance around, looking for any signs of life. The hearth bathes the room in an orange glow, and its warmth is almost stifling. No humans are here, but there is a basket in the corner. It is wrapped with a cord, holding its lid on while its contents try to overflow. I feel Nims’s claws dig in, and I know the basket is what we came for. 

Walking forward, I pick up the brimming basket; although it looks packed full, it is as light as a feather. I exit the building with Nim on my shoulders and the basket in both hands. His claws dig in deep, making me instantly scan around us. I see nothing but trees in the darkness, so I press forward. His feet don’t release, and with the hairs on my neck standing, I quicken toward the trees. 

I can feel my breathing again, my body pulls in each breath, and I have to will it to push it back out. The air changes; I know something is here with us. 

“Darling girl.” A raspy female voice coos from behind me. I stiffen but refuse to turn and look. Nim lets out a warning growl. The growl is for me, not the lady who spoke. I have fallen for this trick before; no one will be there if I turn around. My instincts beg me to look, but I fight them. I lean my head to Nims fluff for some confidence before I start for the tree line again. 

“How dare you steal from me,” The voice barks the words at my back, making my heart pound and my palms sweat. Don’t look back, don’t look back. I can feel pressure from behind, like a strange wind is trying to pull me back. I keep my pace steady, walking to the trees. Once there, Nim jumps from my shoulder and races onward; I run to follow him. 

A loud shriek rattles every branch in the woods and makes my ears burst in pain. I keep running, following Nim. He tries to keep to a pace I can follow, but that has always been his hardest part. He is in his element here, sleekly running and dodging around trees and bushes, and I am his opposite in every way. The smell of rotten meat creeps into my consciousness, and I hold back a gag as it grows stronger. It’s not real; I chant in my head. It’s not real. These things are all part of the game, and the game doesn’t want me to win.

I keep my eyes on Nim, focus on Nim. Where he is going, and where I will have to follow. Don’t think of anything else. As I calm down, the smell recedes. Nim stops running, and we are now outside of the cave once more. Relief washes over me as I realize I didn’t fall into any tricks this time. Pride bursts through my chest, and I smile at Nim - who sits unimpressed by the mouth of the cave. 

I can’t help but chuckle at him. So stern. I drop the basket and pick him up. Turning him on his back like a baby in my arms, I kiss the top of his head and hug him tight. He emits the quietest, almost distant purr. I pull back and look at him in shock. 

“You can purr!” I blurt out with glee, giving him some extra rough smooches and scratches. It is the first time we have been successful. I have always fallen for tricks, losing the item we sought and Nim himself.

“My Nim... you fluffy beautiful boy,” I say as I set him back on the ground. We both turn toward the basket. Picking it back up and peeking at Nim from the corner of my eye, I unwrap the cord. Inside is a thick yellow cloth. Confused, I pull the fabric out; it is stuffed into the back tight, my eagerness making me struggle. What is in this basket? 

I finally pull the cloth from the confines of the basket. I stare at in. It feels heavy now. I place the mass of material on the ground and unwrap it. Nim sits close and watches every move, eyes never straying from our treasure. 

Under all the cloth was a shiny white and gold rock carved beautifully into a shape of a cat curled into a ball. Taking in its form, I gasped and glanced at Nim, who had closed his eyes. I pick up the rock, hold it up and run my fingers over its delicate ears and down to boop its teeny tiny nose. 

“It’s beautiful,” I tell Nim and place it back. He then walks over and holds his nose to the one on the statue. I watch him in awe as he stands holding this position. I can feel his sadness seeping into my soul, so I place a hand on his back for comfort and to tell him he has me. 

I look at the cave and the daunting way back home. Nim doesn’t move, but I feel the urgency fill me - I need to be back, but I have never had to return myself physically. Could I find my way back? I doubt it. 

Looking back at Nim, he sits at the edge of the cloth, looking down at the statue. I startle as I realize the gold has disappeared from its body. It is now completely white, and now it seems - different. 

Thinking the light is playing tricks on my eyes, I place a hand on it. I feel soft tufts, long silky hair, warmth, and shallow breathing movements! 

I pull my hand back and watch as the once white and gold statue sits up with pure white fur and a tiny pink nose. It glances at me with its glowing blue eyes. It elegantly gives me a slight head dip and walks to Nim. It circles, purring, settles flush beside him, and grooms his face.

He gives the new cat a few licks back before entering the cave and then turning to see if we follow. The shock I had from the transformation is now pure happiness. I just saved this beautiful cat. A sudden thought pops into my head, a name. 

“Lyn,” I say aloud. “Your name is Lyn!” I laugh out loud at her loving purr. 

I follow Lyn and Nim through the cave and back home. My heart feels complete as I watch them weaving together as they walk me to my home. When I reach for the door, I pause and look back towards them. They sit pressed together, watching me. I push open the door. 

“Let’s go to bed,” I tell them. They hesitate, but with Nim leading the way, they both walk inside. 

Welcome home.