This Cat is a Fanatic

The whiny partyer rolled over on his bed, closing his big triangular animated eyes. Groaning and then sighing, the teenager called to his mother in the office next room over. “Moooom, I can’t go to bed! Why do you put us to sleep at—” He grabbed his alarm clock on the nightstand table. “8:00 pm?”      

“Stop throwing a temper tantrum, MK. Just go to bed!” The clacking of the keyboard continued. “Besides, Dad will be home in a minute. He’ll want you to behave, right?”  

“Yeah—”

“No ‘buts’ ‘bout it. Tuck your tail inside your covers, and shut those eyes. Quit with the disrespect.”

The teenager gave a long, loud groan and plopped his face on his pillow. The Royal Blue, white-striped tailed cat with a big head, huge eyes and a smaller body growled into his pillow. “What was that?” His mother called. “What are you telling NJ and Kentucky?”

“Nomthink.”

“What?!”

“Nothing!” MK gasped as he picked his head up from his pillow. He looked at it. Geez! I really suffocate from this thing. He sighed, eyelids having slid down half-way. He snuck out of bed, grabbed a bedside mirror somewhere in his room and held it with his very thin tail as he studied himself in the mirror. “Wow! MK, you’ll do great at this year’s prom!” Styling his little tuft of hair between his ears, he gave proud looks as he continued pretending to show off his physique. “NJ will be jealous and Kentucky will envy my tux and...” He grabbed a bottle of hairspray off his bedside table and mimicked spraying it all over his hair. “Now, I’m the cat of the night. With nine lives, I’m stylin’, baby!”

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to go to bed! You do have a curfew. Kentucky and NJ do. So you should listen, too, you know?”

MJ sighed, like he was annoyed with this infuriatingly irritating interruption from Mom. He called out that he was getting ready for prom. In his head. He was planning out the perfect night. His mother told him to go to bed. “But I don’t wanna!”

“Well, you will when I tell you you’re not going to that prom if you don’t.” A tall orange and red cat spoke down to his son as he entered the bedroom and looked down at the rebellious teen. “It’s still light out, but,” he stepped forward, grabbing the mirror and setting it gently on his computer desk across from the bunk bed, “you’re being disrespectful. First, you’re interrupting your mother’s work, and then you’re making me tell you like you’re five that you need to listen!” Paws thrown onto his sides, Mr. Fox raised his eyebrows. “Hm? You gonna talk, or you gonna ignore me like last time?”

“Last time was 5 years old, Dad.” MK was lying on his bed, looking up at his father.

“Yeah—and you’re fifteen. Doesn’t make a difference.”

“What doesn’t?”

His father shook his head, sighed and turned away, walking out of his bedroom. “Think about it.” After that orangish-red tail disappeared around the corner, MJ lay flat on his back, and exhaled. He looked down, thinking of his father’s words. Doesn’t make a difference. He did an about-face, putting his paws under his head. Well, I have my friends to impress! He got up and looked out his window through the blinds. “The sun’s still out. And it’s only 6:30 pm.” He fell back on his bed, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other. “At least I’m brighter than that sun. At least I’ll be at the prom!”

“No prom until you respect your mother and me.” His father seemed to just appear at the doorway, having startled him.

“Geez, Dad! I…I was just—”

Mr. Fox crossed his arms. “MK, I thought you were better than this. Better-behaved. I just don't get it. What's going on? Something at school? Is it those wolves again? Have they pushed you down again?” He looked outside. “It’s pretty bright out. So I want your attitude to disappear by the time the sun leaves. Disappears. Just like the daylight. Let it melt behind the earth like the sun does when it's becoming nighttime. Got it?”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Yes, sir!” MK nodded.

His father exhaled in frustration, and left, replaced by his mother. She asked MK whether he wanted any water. He said yes, shaking his head respectfully. She jerked a nod and later returned with a glass of water. Setting it on his bedside table, his mother’s fuchsia and grey-spotted tail whipped out before his paw could grab it, and she drank it all right in front of him. Tossing it onto the table, she looked over at her son, sliding a gray paw across her mouth.

“See? That wasn’t very nice of me, was it?”

“No…no, it wasn’t.” MK hung his head, looking down. He swallowed. “I’m sorry, Mom. I…just want to be with my friends. I don’t want to go to bed—”

“And I don’t want to be disrespected.” She walked away, saying she’d get him another glass of water. Returning with a full glass of water in one paw and another in another paw, she set one down, him stretching for it. He was sitting up, so he could get it. The mother held out her glass, as if she wanted to toast to…

“What are we doing?”

“Toasting.”

“To what?”

“My promotion.”

Promotion? He widened his eyes, and grinned. “That’s great, Mom! Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She nodded her head. A cocked eyebrow annoyed MK, but he hid this with a pursed mouth. Laughing, the mother shook his head. “It’s okay. We’re all like this.”

“Yeah…” MK softly said, nodding stiffly. But they clinked glasses—at least the mother did. MK put his glass down, and told his mother he wanted to be left alone. “Please.” She nodded and left. He watched her go, and turned over. It, he felt, was growing darker. Or maybe it was. It just felt like it. Anyway, he looked at the wall, imagining Kentucky and NJ and himself at the prom. He was all decked out in a black and white tuxedo. NJ showed off a beautiful sparkly emerald dress, twirling around, her fat, black ringed, brownish-grey raccoon’s tail tucked close to her body so as not to hit any of the other prom attendees. Her pretty brown eyes looked at MK for a long second, and MK thought she wanted to say something to him. However, NJ looked away and went to pull Kentucky into her own little invisible circle. As the golden snub-nosed monkey and raccoon danced away, MK pursed his lips in envy, wishing she would pull him into the circle too so he could really show Michael and his goons how partyers have fun at prom. Then he looked up at his teacher, Ms. Krane. She was shaking his shoulder.

“Huh?” MK rolled right over, looking into his father’s red face. But it wasn’t red from anger. It was—

“Red from excitement. I’m so excited you listened to your mother.” He spread a wide grin, and opened his arms, dropping to his knees. “Come here, MK! I want to celebrate with a hug.” His son went to him, an embarrassed grin on his face, and hugged him stiffly. His father let go a second later and then left him alone in his bed. He looked outside after getting in. it was dark out. I'm still going to that prom. Those wolves will see me yet! He called his mother inside.

She came into his room. “Yes, honey? Something wrong?”

“Good night.” He snuggled under his covers, his tail tucked inside his covers, too. he waited for his mother to exit his bedroom, watching her cocked head and quizzical expression leave with her. She pounded down the steps to the basement and called for her husband to come to check out this fabulous scene.

“I know!” His father’s voice rang. “I don’t understand it. we suddenly give him the threat of his life—no prom—and then he turns around.” MK pictured his father shrugging and crossing his arms. “Well, I guess he is obedient. Been harboring love for us ever since 5 years old.”

“Ever since he met Ms. Krane. And danced with NJ at their graduation from kindergarten!” As their parents chattered gleefully about his childhood, MK rolled his eyes. He looked up above him at the top bunk’s underside. Seeing the sections the wooden bars created across the bed. Black tarp lined above the bars, making MK feel as if he were locked in entirely—his headboard and footboard being banisters and a ladder to his left at his foot. It was like he was in jail.

I guess… he closed his eyes, and yawned, forcing himself to drift off to sleep. Maybe if I'm asleep, they'll smile, forgetting everything that happened. Besides, I just can't go to sleep. It's not the end of the world!

He tossed and turned, failing to fall fast asleep. I can’t. I can’t escape this prison of a bedroom. It’s dark out, but I still go to bed! I don’t want to. Then his phone buzzed from over in his backpack a foot away from him. He mischievously snuck out of bed. It was NJ.

Hey—want to come over? It’s a movie. Ken’s making popcorn!

Maybe this weekend. He tossed his cellphone onto his desk chair and hopped into bed. Blinking, he yawned, but he still wouldn't close his eyes. I can't go to bed this early. It's too early. It's like a punishment for something I didn't do. I'm being punished for nothing!

I’m not tired, he thought. I don’t want to go to bed. I can make my own decisions. I'm fifteen! Kentucky and NJ may listen, but they're not my siblings. They don't have to go to bed at 6:30pm. They can stay up as late as they want--because they're not Mr. and Mrs. Fox's children!

He went downstairs, and told his parents he’d be with NJ and Kentucky for a few hours. They told him he'd have to do all the dishes tomorrow night because of his poor behavior. MK jerked a nod and dashed off after packing and grabbing an overnight bag for Ken’s house. After the movie ended late, NJ left, so Kentucky—in bed and MK on the floor in a sleeping bag—talked to MK till the sun rose the next morning.

“Dude!” Kentucky looked at him as they were brushing their teeth. “You’re like NJ—only a cat with rings under his eyes, not around them!”

“Yeah.” MK yawned and rinsed his mouth out, putting his toothbrush in his overnight bag. “The prom’s—”

“This Saturday.”

“Yeah…right.”

"Man, what's your problem?"

"I...I just don't understand my parents. They're always on my case for something. First, it's going to bed. I mean, it's practically the middle of the day--"

"Well, it's not like it's your bedtime--"

"Who has a bedtime at fifteen years old? Besides, I need to do chores all weekend. No cat does that! Besides, the dishes don't help me. I just clean them."

Kentucky laughed. "We all do. But with a good attitude. Besides, NJ and I do. Why not you? You're our friend. Can't you make a slight change--for us, at least? You can't just be the center of attention all the time. Life isn't always a party. You can be in the crowd, watching the dancer in the middle, too, you know?"

"NJ and you used to sneak out of the house to go the movies. How'd you have a popcorn party, and I can't just look forward to the prom this weekend--?"

"We listen to our parents now, unlike eight years ago. That's why we're not grumpy whenever we're told to do stuff. We listen."

"I don't understand Mr. Chimps. He's always dropping our mail--"

"You always say that. Guy can't help it. Besides, how 'bout you help him pile it all together? You can do that, right? If you can help, you can be respectful, too, right?"

MK thought. "I guess. I do help others. But no one respects me. Seems I'm always losing to others, and others always expect me to respect them in return, no matter what--"

"Well, think about this. If you're respectful to strangers, how much more should you respect your parents. NJ and I do it all the time. And that's why we're your friends. We respect you. Can you respect us? By listening to us?"

MK nodded, yawning the whole morning. He finally splashed his face with cold water after Kentucky ordered him to listen, and then took a reluctant nap that afternoon. Awaking to a howling dog, MK looked outside his front door’s side windows. “What the heck?” MK opened the door and asked the problem. The dog just barked, and MK turned his head. The mailman (or mailchimp) strived putting a load of mail into his mailbox).

“Go help him.” His father’s soft voice suggested.

“Okay.” MK opened and walked out the door, and picked up all the falling mail with his tail. “All for me?”

“Yeah—” The chimp, a frowning expression on his face, bit his lip. Then he said, “Yeah—Mr…”

“Mr. Fox is my dad. You can call me MK. Short for—”

“Oh,” the chimp nodded, just looking at him from inside the car. “Yeah. You’re right. You can call me the mailman. Not Chimp or anything else.” He got situated in the driver’s seat, and drove off. MK just stood there, absentmindedly taking the mail from his tail and then going over to the mailbox and grabbing the rest. He didn’t even say thank you! MK stormed into the house, giving all the mail to his dad after sorting through it for anything to him. Later that night, MK was told that the prom was moved to next Saturday. He sighed in relief--his dish pile was pretty big.

He went through the following week picking at his cafeteria food, blinking and yawning all through his classes (his teachers clapped their paws in front of him repeatedly to get him to answer their questions) and got knocked out at gym class. After a parent-teacher conference, MK's parents prevented him from going to NJ and Kentucky's backyard BBQ the day before the prom. MK went. They showed up amidst a conversation between Kentucky's parents and MK's braggadocious attitude about his dance moves. He gave him all the kitchen's dirty dishes. MK put the pile in the sink and went upstairs. They told him he couldn't come down except to do the dishes. MK sulked. He trudged through the chore, told his parents he was done and then went to bed--much to his parents' surprise.

That Saturday at the prom, he showed off a little. MK saw Kentucky and NJ, so he stopped, but kept a wary eye on Michael and his goons demonstrating their moves. Not bad for a bunch of howling creatures always on all fours, but MK whispered to Kentucky that NJ and he could whip up a show.

Kentucky just shrugged, but MK smirked.

“Hey."

The following Monday, the gym teacher (a stallion) walked up to him, blowing on his whistle for all the animals to quiet down. “What’s up, MK? You’re knocked down—“

“Literally! Hah!” The sound of paws slapping together in a high-five was followed by slander and more laugher. Mean laughter. 

Wolves over on the bleachers covered their mouths with their paws, soot-black fur paling in comparison to their soot-black attitudes. MK got up with the PE teacher’s help, and looked over at Michael and his friends. He walked up to them, and threw his paws on his sides. “You know what?” He turned around and returned with a glass of water. “Thirsty?”

“Yeah.” Croaked one, reaching for it. But MK smiled and poured the water down his throat. After giving a satisfied exhale, MK looked at Michael.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it?”

The wolves looked at him. Michael swallowed. “No.”

“Right. So maybe if you want something from me, give me something first.”

“What?”

“Think about it.”

After the slamming of lockers that afternoon ended, MK looked over at the group of wolves hanging out at the bike rack. He closed his locker, and walked towards them, pushing the door open and then walking into another door, pushing it open, too. Walking past them, MK nodded, wishing he had a hat to tip to NJ who was nearby. She blushed, but when he was about to board the school bus in front of him, MK was halted.

“What?”

“Just…” One of them had called him over. “I just…want to say sorry. Hey--I thought you'd punch us or something. You're not...like..."

“Doing the dishes last week and weekend made me think. So, thanks for the apology!” He gave a joyful nod. Then he looked at NJ, and tipped an imaginary hat to her. She nodded, blushing again. MK boarded the bus. But before he could walk up those stairs, they called back just as the doors closed, “Sorry for the disrespect!”    

He went to a seat, plopped down in it and saw them out the window. And nodded—to all of them.

As the bus started, and MK was pulled away, he studied those wolves. They were talking, their lips moving.

Hey, he texted NJ later that day. Were Michael and his friends talking about me?

I don't know. I hope so. Maybe they saw they weren't so awesome anymore. Because of you.

MK nodded, and put his phone away after climbing into bed. He fell asleep. Maybe. Maybe they were just pretending. The actors they are.