Sardine and the Tires

A cat the color of smoke with bright, orange eyes, weaved its way through a narrow path somewhat devoid of debris. Turning slightly, it jumped over a small tin box that smelled faintly of rotting sardines, and settled on a small patch of decaying grass. The cat was familiar with the area, frequenting the landfill to make shelter underneath shelves of corroded plastic and rusting sheets of metal. A trail had been etched within the earth created from small paws and large imprints of heavy boots, stretching out from each side of the junkyard. Heaping piles of filth sat on each side, only small items falling from precarious piles onto the walkway, never more dangerous than the sharp edge of a can or fragments of porcelain and glass.

The cat sat, curling its tail underneath its paws, detesting the rough texture of the yellowing blades protruding from the Earth. It began to clean its fur with restrained licks, before tucking itself into an oblong shape on the quaint spot of grass. The cicada's buzzing hymns increased underneath a blanket of sweltering heat that grazed through the large landfill, the warmth lashing like a whip against the cat’s quivering fur. Slumber began to overtake the creature, its eyes the shade of deep tangerine finally slipping shut, obscuring the world in an onyx hue.

A loud clatter from a distant pile would suspend the cat’s sleep, the sound foreign among its domain. It leaped back onto the path, slinking towards the sound of metal clinking together and plastic snapping apart. Quailing through the labyrinth of garbage, the sound began to crescendo before waning as quickly as it came. Finally, turning to its right, there was a slight streak of frost-colored fur that disappeared behind a large box made of dark glass and small buttons. The cat quickly bounded towards the movement, and was met with an animal that looked similar to itself. They each shared the same short, triangular ears and round faces, long bodies each hunched over with flickering tails. Their furs were their only distinction between each other, one being the shade of charcoal and the other indistinguishable from the wisps of clouds that twirled in the sapphire sky.

The gray cat bared its fangs, letting out a deep hiss as if it were communicating its displeasure with the other’s presence. The white cat only blinked in response, turning back to the pile of scrap metal and warped plastic that now infiltrated the pathway. It continued to sink its claws into the flesh of waste, using its legs to push more onto the pathway. The gray cat smoothed the fur of its back, the tension in its lithe body now fused with escalating curiosity. The white cat, after a few moments, finally trilled in satisfaction as it bowed its head beneath the surface of debris and appeared with a small, red object between its teeth.

The white cat paid no attention to the other as it pounced from its place in the pile back to the pathway, quickly disappearing to its left behind a different mound of garbage. The gray cat looked between the disarray of junk to the spot where the echo of the other creature remained, now slithering behind heaps of filth. The gray cat ran after the other, finding the creature quickly, its fur the color of bones like a beacon among the dull grays and greens of decomposing items. The white cat didn’t look back as it weaved through the intricate pathways made of tufts of grass and dry dirt, finally stopping in front of a small pile that consisted of large, black circles made of rubber. Some of these circles were stacked among each other while others leaned against neighboring piles of scraps, but one was unlike the others.

It was in front of the pile, buried halfway beneath the Earth, and a soft chime rang from the hole in its center. A strange material created a wall in its hole that reverberated off a melodic tune, like ripples of white wind that obstructed the gray cat’s view. It could not see what was on the other side, and whether the white cat knew of what was at its center seemed to not bother the creature as it bent its head and disappeared through the warped cavity. The opaque air trembled as the cat disappeared, the soft ringing still thrumming from the strange cavern.

The gray cat was wary, the tension returning to its body as it hissed at the strange object. The tolling of an unfamiliar instrument responded within the rubber circle, and the cat deigned to step closer. It sniffed close to the black rubber, not able to place any scent like the piles of garbage that surrounded it. It inspected the shuddering air at its center, swiping its paw which fell through the white wisps of wind that was cold to the touch. It hissed again, leaping back, but the circle was still unresponsive to the creature’s fury. For a moment, it only stared at the deep fissure in the circle and looked back to the intimate mounds of trash and debris.

It finally bent its head down beneath the rim of the rubber and disappeared through the quivering tufts of the air.

The trip was brief. A chill that started at its head traveled down its nimble body, and finally ended at the tip of its tail. Its paws sunk beneath the uneven ground, it was cold, similar to the tunnel of wind, but comfortable on its skin. It finally opened its eyes and found its paws buried beneath sand. The sand was a dull blue, lapping at its grains were waves that were as white as milk. The sky, unlike a sapphire hue, was a deep purple, white stars sewn into complex, winking patterns. On the surface, untouched by the tepid waves were massive trees with black trunks with matching leaves that trembled with the billowing winds. Next to a tree, was the white cat with pale blue eyes, the red object still stuck between its teeth.

The gray cat crept towards the other, still hesitant of the world around it that was so unlike its own realm. No piles of filth and narrow pathways, only open space of strange colors, smells, and the tinkling of metallic bells that came from the tops of the trees. It finally reached the white cat, who purred as it dropped the red object onto the sand. It was a small red truck that could belong to a child with long limbs, no fur, and features unlike the two creatures on the beach.

“You followed me?” The white cat’s voice was soft, playful. The gray cat was perplexed of the sounds that came from its mouth but responded with its own voice:

“What is this place?”

“Home.” The white cat let out a loud meow, pointing its head towards tall, black grass that lined a dark forest of tangling roots of trees.

They sat for a moment before three, small figures emerged from the jungle. Small kittens that looked indiscernible from the white cat. They leapt and tumbled on the sand with their tiny limbs, and mewled with delight as they made their way to the older cat.

“Oh what did you bring today?” Said one on the right, small black markings around its eyes.

“Tell me it's another treat!” The middle one squealed, a tear on its left ear making it unlike the two cats beside it.

“Or another toy!” The one of the left yelped, one of its front legs at a strange angle causing it to limp towards the elder, white cat.

The white cat trilled with pleasure once again as it pushed the red truck to the kittens. They each pounced at the toy with glee, thanking the eldest with loud purrs and laughter. They continued to paw the toy on the cold sand, and the white cat watched with a glimmer of amusement that shimmered in its blue eyes.

The gray cat watched the kittens who shrieked with joy as the white cat finally turned towards the other:

“What’s your name?”

“What?” The gray cat tore its gaze from the flurry of white fur and claws. The gray cat never had a name, only existing within the confines of the yard full of scrap metal and aged plastic. No man or creature had taken interest in the cat who slept by a tin box, so it never had a title or place.

“I used to be called Snow, a long time ago,” The white cat, Snow, didn’t look over to the gray cat, keeping their eyes trained on the kittens, “You can pick your own name if you wish.”

The gray cat looked to the sky with the twinkling stars, then to the swaying, black leaves that rested on sturdy trunks. It dug its paws into the grains of sand, feeling the cold on its fur. It curled its tail underneath its paws:

“Sardine. You can call me, Sardine.”