Gwen Doh Lynn

2: A Talking Cat

It rained most of the night. Regular rain, not spiders.

The spider-rain ended pretty quickly and by the time our pizza arrived (we did order pizza after all), my mom was already coming up with what she called logical explanations. "There was probably a big nest of spiders in the tree that got shaken loose by the wind," she said. "Or maybe it's spider mating season and the weather drove them into a frenzy."

Maybe.

Anyway, I always sleep well when it rains at night and so I woke up early, even before my alarm went off. I sat up in bed and looked around my new room. We had moved some on my own stuff upstairs to try to make it feel more like home.

Dark blue wallpaper with gold designs that my mom said are called "fleur de lis" (fler-duh-lee). Dresser with stickers all over it from when I was in first grade. Boring brown desk with my laptop on it. Some kind of wooden table that came with the house and had a big fancy mirror attached. Mom said it was an antique. Cat curled up on the throw rug in front of it.

Wait...

Cat?

We didn't have a cat.

"Hey!" I said in surprise. I had always wanted a cat, but my mom said I had to wait until I was older.

The skinny cat lifted its head and stared at me with greenish-yellowish eyes. It had a white triangular splotch on its head and white paws, but otherwise it was all gray.

I scrambled out of bed and got closer. The cat stretched out one paw and yawned. It let me pet its head and scratch its ears.

Well, at least one good thing had happened so far. I rushed downstairs. "Mom! Mom!"

She was already up and dressed and making breakfast. I could smell the scrambled eggs. I ran over to her at the stove and hugged her. "Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry I was such a brat yesterday," I said in a rush. "It's just moving is so hard and--I love you, Mom."

She pushed me back a little, still holding the spatula in one hand, and switched off the stove. "What are you thanking me for?"

"The kitty!" I said happily. "I was so surprised." 

My mom got a frowny look on her face. "What kitty? What are you talking about?"

Sometimes she jokes around. "The kitty in my room," I said and rolled my eyes, still smiling.

"There's a cat in your room?" She tossed down the spatula and started heading for the front hall.

I followed her. The gray cat was sitting at the top of the stairs, probably to see what the commotion was. Or maybe it smelled scrambled eggs, too.

"Oh my goodness. How did he get in here?" We both went up and petted him.

"You mean you didn't get him for me?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I have no idea where he came from. He doesn't have a collar or anything..."

"Can we keep him? Please, please, please?" The cat rubbed against my mom's leg and purred loudly.

"I don't know..." Oh no! My mom was hesitating.

"But I don't have any friends here yet," I said. "It would be good to have company."

"I guess... if no one owns him... I mean it might be nice to have a cat around." She smiled.

I threw my arms around her neck. "Thank you. Yay! C'mon kitty. Let's get dressed." I scooped him up and carried him to my room, where I set him back on the rug.

I watched him lick his paw for a minute. This was so great. Maybe I would fit in here, and be a normal girl, with a normal mom, and a normal cat. Maybe I'd even make some friends.

I started rummaging through an open cardboard box for something normal to wear to school.

"Did you know it rained spiders yesterday? Just on this house, by the way."

I looked around, terrified. It was a male voice. Very calm. "Who said that?"

"I did." I kept looking around. Was someone hiding in the closet? "Me. Over here. You know, the cat." He was waving his tail in the air to get my attention. His mouth wasn't moving.

"By the way, no one owns me. I'm independent." He flicked his tail again, then settled down in a cat-loaf.

Was I going crazy? After my dad left, my mom started sending me to a therapist to "talk about what was going on." She said it was normal to see a therapist, but in movies it's always crazy people. And I did have those outbursts at school. Maybe she sent me to a therapist because she thought I was going crazy?

"Can you talk?" I asked the cat. Like a crazy person.

Of course he didn't say anything. He yawned again, re-arranged himself into a ball, and closed his eyes.

Still worrying about my possible insanity, I threw on the most normal clothes I could find. Nice jeans and a plain blue v-neck t-shirt. I thought I'd need a sweater. I first grabbed the hoodie with the polka dots, but then wondered if Natalia and Elspeth would find something to make fun of about that, so I took my plain pink one instead.

I glanced at the cat again, sleeping--totally normally--on the rug. Maybe stress was just making my imagination run wild.

"Okay, kitty," I said. "I gotta grab breakfast and get to school." I stopped in the doorway for one second. "See you when I get home!"

As I started down the stairs, I heard the lazy voice say, "See ya."