Not All of It

The person encountered a black cat along a deserted alleyway one night after work.   

The cat held a piece of paper in its paw, looked at it and read:

Dear Human World,

How fun it’d be to be a person. No black luck coming your way! Unless you saw a black cat. You really should get a new view on life. Anyway, my name is Revolutionary War. I know, it’s weird—but life is that way. Black cats come and go. You know, I was kicked out by my owners; I was never a street cat. I had several owners reject me, but the family with children never wanted me. So I ran away. To you.

I hope you adopt me. I’d love a family. I’d love to be your cat. Please? The cat looked up pleadingly at the person, who smiled sympathetically at the cat. The cat continued. Please? The alleyway is cold, weird, scary, dark, ominous, depressing, Halloween and crawling with bugs. Not to mention smells of dead fish and stinky, wet cat!

The person vomited in his mouth, wiped it and then asked the cat to proceed. The cat gave a jerk of a nod and continued. No human has loved me. My previous owners ignored me, called me names, forgot to feed me—here, the cat wiggled two claws, indicating scare quotes—and overall didn’t pet me. They’d swat me off the couch, chase me off my cat perch and, worst of all, lock me in the house whenever they were going somewhere. So I’d sit there, waiting for them to come home. But why? Why was I waiting for abusive owners to show up? Well, they were all I had. I wasn’t just going to run away. I couldn’t. I could train myself to open the door, but I didn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Maybe they’d look for me and snatch me back from the freedom of the streets!

But, you ask, why?

“Yes, why?” The person knelt down, ignoring the puddle under his jeaned knee. “Why would they care?”

The cat shrugged and continued. Please—don’t forget me if you don’t adopt me. Keep me in mind. I hate to bother you. I hate to intrude, but I need a home. A warm fire, a soft bed and some fresh catnip would do me good. I’ve forced myself to gulp down slimy fish and dead rats so long I can even taste the yucky grossness even in my dreams! Those nightmares torture me. Please. Rescue me!

The person shook his head, tears coming to his eyes. “Alright!” He picked up the cat, the piece of paper hanging by one of its paws, and meowed. “I know, I know. Such a hard life. My wife left me a while ago. Please—don’t leave me, either!”

The cat purred as the person walked away from the filth-obsessed alleyway, unlocking his front door and kicking it closed after entering. Once he had put his long beige coat and fedora away on the rack next to the door, he sighed. “No more cases to solve. At least not tonight.”

Mew. The cat nodded. He looked eerily desirous of the piece of paper the man had plucked from the cat’s paw. “No, not tonight.” The man set the paper down on the kitchen table and went to make himself some cauliflower. After scarfing down his meal, he heard something. “Alright, I’ll get you some food. She left her dead cat’s food here. I’ll see whether you’ll like it.” Filling the bowl, the detective hummed to himself and watched his new friend wolf it down. Thanking him, the detective nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve been around talking cats before. My wife’s cat was a talking cat.”

The cat cocked its head. “How do you know we’re not of the weirdos?” It narrowed its eyes suspiciously.

“Because I’m always watching. I’m a detective, using my skills to deduce problems by using clues to solve crimes.”

“What’s all that?”

The detective shook his head and laughed. “Never mind, cat! You—”

“See? There you go.” The cat jabbed a paw at the man. “You’re indifferent—”

“Indifferent? I just fed you!”

“Could be letting me curl up on your lap.” The cat trotted around the house, saying it’d like a bed, a cat scratch and a nice place by the fireplace. “Please?” It looked up at the man with such innocence protruding from those mistily grey eyes. The man thought he saw the full moon through them.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween. I’ll be handing out candy to the neighbors.”

“Oh.” The cat narrowed its eyes excitedly. “And have I got a place for you!”

“What?” The man rubbed his face, sighing tiredly. “Look, cat. I didn’t say I’d keep you. I just sympathized with you. I—”

“You’re just—”

“I’M NOT!” The man slammed down the kettle in which tea was brewing, scaring the cat. It had jumped, screaming, and bolted away. For hours, the man lost it. “Cat, cat! I’m sorry.”

“It’s Revolutionary War.”

“Where—” The man bent down, beckoning it to come out from under his bed. “Don’t scratch me.”

“Don’t hurt me.” The cat lay there, its eyes flickering with fear. “It’s Halloween. We’re…” It trembled. “We’re going somewhere.”

“Where?” The man lay down. “Where?”

“You’ll see.” The cat looked down. “Just…I—”

“Look, I’m your master. I’ll keep you, we’ll go to this Halloween thing and then you’re gone, right?”

The cat’s eyes bulged. “No!” He begged, whimpering. The man thought, rolling his eyes upwards. The cat mewed, crawling out from the bed, curling up to him. It pawed at him. “Please?”

The mew so soft, the meow so hurt, the man couldn’t look away. “Fine. One adventure.”

The cat laughed. “You need some fun in your life!”

The detective’s heart had been coated with ice a long time ago. “I have a backstory, too, you know. It’s not a pretty one. But it’s one no man wishes upon himself.”

“That’s what we’re going to solve. The problems in your backstory!”

The man looked at his seeming enemy. “Yeah—how are you, a cat, going to help me?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Man, this dream just keeps getting better and better!”

The cat smiled knowingly up at him. “First, you’ll enter a world of orange, red and yellow, then you’ll encounter women with frizzy black hair sticking wildly out of place with cobalt blue dresses sparkling with awesomeness and then you’ll encounter a poisonously cough-inducing place called Freaky where you’ll have to defeat, with the pen handed to you, your own demons. Your inner demons. They’re not scary—unless you can take them on enough to come out alive. Just rewrite your future. Just do it with courage. Don’t let fear get the best of you. Fear will try to stop you—he’s there, with a black tie and blood-red tuxedo. Nothing gets past him. Sometimes, couples romantically get together, and there’s a wedding! But you need to prove yourself to one of the women. They all want a spouse. But you’ll have to prove yourself as a worthy gentleman before you wed one of them.” Then it grinned mischievously. “Yes, sir!”

No answer.

“Let’s go…if you dare!”

The cat bounded away towards the front door, saying they’d have the best Halloween ever, the man following. To the cat, it sounded like the first sound of allowing others to chip away at that hard heart.

“Alright. Halloween, here we come…”

Backstory, he said, here I go. See how I do!