Black and White

I hear my cat let out a squeal and from the corner of my eye see a blur of black and white. 

“Was that Oreo?” My mom calls out to me. I shake my head, thinking it was something else and return to my drawing. She walks out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel, the long blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face where two blue skies peak out behind large purple framed glasses swings and her eyes stare me down. “Alex! where ‘s your cat?” My mom’s voice sounds like a lullaby and stirs me out of my trance. I let out a humph and stand up. 

“He’s right here-” I gesture to my left, but stop. The black and white cat I’ve had since I was five is no longer at my feet. “I swear he was right here!” I look up to the screen door, the color an off-white tan, the pattern I’ve known since I can remember. I race over to the door and turn the knob, burning my skin almost unbearably. Blur bolts down the road edged with tan stucco buildings with red tile roofs and palm trees. The heat knocks into me like a wave. I run into the street, trying to keep track of the most precious treasure I have.

Tears smudge my vision and fog the window. A blue bag with a magnificent brown horse on it contains a jar with peanut butter pretzels, a horse pen and a mug resting on top. I haven’t looked farther, nearly crying at the sight of the emoji cups. My heart breaks. In the month since Oreo left me, everything seems to have changed. Eyes that are always red from crying are hard to mask, and it seems as though no one else has remorse for the loss of my dearest, truest friend, who has known me longer than the others and loves me more than anything. A hot tear slowly draws a path on my dusty cheek and I look out the window once more. This might be the last chance I have so I close my eyes, lean my head against the window and whisper a good-bye. 

“I love you Oreo.”

It’s been almost four years. My long brown hair has been chopped off, bleached dyed and grown back out. Now it looks like before. When I had my kitten. I have a new one, orange and white I’ve named socks, but it’s not the same without him. The hole in my heart left by his disappearance has longs since shrunken, but even now as I lay on the floor, listening to music and doing homework do I feel the grief, however small it’s become, hit me like my dear Oreo was still here and whacked me with his paw. My tabby, Socks, walks over as if sensing my sorrow. I smile down at him and he curls up in my lap like Oreo used to. I close my eyes and think of him.

I ran out of the car, anticipation fueling my legs to run faster. I yank the door open, but stand there, holding it for my mom and sister. My sister has my dad’s piercing green eyes, and black hair that is elegant and tied up into a braid that barely reaches her shoulders. 

Inside the humane society, the air conditioners are cranking loudly. I run up and down the long isles framed with cages for cats of all different shapes and sizes. I slow down and bend to look at the bottom cage. Two balls of fluff that appeared to be kittens stared at me with a button like eyes. I hold my hand up to the cage to steady myself. One of the cats walks up to the glass window. His soft pale green eyes look at me, curiously. His back is black, and white peaked out along his chest and from his forehead to chin, outline his eyes. A small spot is the only black on his chin. I smile at him. He placed his hand on mine and I knew he was the one for me.

Socks purrs loudly and stare at me with the same pale green and curiosity. I smile and feel the hole heal. It will still be sore, but for now, I am happy and content.