[WP] One day, you meet a stray cat that looks exhausted. So you give it some food, water and a warm place to rest before it disappears the next morning. Some time later, a witch appears at your doorstep with that same cat. "Ambrose here says you saved his life, so I'm here to repay the favor."
It was a dark and stormy night, when the dark and stormy cat clawed at my front door. I didn't open it at first. At first I didn't open it, thinking it was a person. One of the neighbors coming over to complain about my sound system or one of the HOA ladies informing me yet again that my lawn was the wrong shade of green. They started patrolling the streets recently, claiming it was to keep the neighborhood safe.
It was just to snoop. I'd catch them sometimes, squinting into my living room window from the sidewalk. When I heard the mewling of a cat, I got up and went to the door. He was a black cat, with a sage green collar. He was also soaking wet and clearly miserable. I opened the door and she sauntered in.
I don't know how I knew it was a he-cat, but I did. The tag on the collar said Ambrose, but there was no phone number or address. He was friendly, even letting me pick him up, and I settled him on the rug in front of the lit fireplace. I returned to the living room with a towel, but somehow he was already dry.
"I guess you weren't as wet as I thought," I said. I patted the couch next to me. "Want to join me?"
It wasn't exactly an exciting Saturday night, but it was the usual way I spent it. Watching something on Netflix, ordering in pizza, and wondering how I could escape my current singleness, preferably without too much human interaction.
Ambrose's company was better than nothing. After a while, he settled into my lap, his head resting against the inside of my elbow. Getting a cat of my own wasn't a bad idea. Two cats, maybe, so they could keep each other company when I was at work. Three might earn me the label of the neighborhood cat lady. I paused. It was still a better label than being the neighborhood recluse. Ambrose purred as I scratched the top of his head. Yes, it would be nice to share my house with another living thing.
I fell asleep on the couch, and woke up to Ambrose gone. Even after searching the whole house, from top to bottom, he was nowhere. When I was eating breakfast, I saw the kitchen window, open by a few inches, enough for a determined cat to squeeze through.
"At least the weather's nice outside," I said to myself. It was a beautiful day, with the rain from the night before rendering everything outside clean and green. Hopefully he knew his way back home.
There was a knock at the door, and I went to open it. When I opened it, I had to look up. The man was tall, and he had a cat on his shoulder. It was Ambrose. He sat on his owner's shoulder like it was his natural perching place, his tail loosely hanging around the man's neck.
"Ambrose here says you saved his life, so I'm here to repay the favor."
"Ambrose says?" I asked. Was he the crazy cat man of this neighborhood? He looked perfectly normal. Perhaps it was just a joke, and he meant he'd seen Ambrose exiting my house in the morning.
"Yesterday's storm was pretty brutal," the man said. "Thanks for letting Ambrose in."
"No problem," I answered.
"So, how would you like to be repaid?" he asked.
"It's no problem," I said, laughing it off. "I enjoyed Ambrose's company last night."
"We do not leave debts unpaid," the man said. "Ask for anything."
"Yes, anything," a voice purred.
The cat was talking. I stepped back into the house, and the man took his first steps inside.
"Yes, as Ambrose said. Anything within my power, I shall do for you."
"What are you?" I asked, hesitantly. "A ventriloquist?"
"My master is not so talented," Ambrose. "He is simply a fledgling witch who is grateful he hasn't lost his familiar."
"A witch? But you're..."
"Yes, I'm a man," the man said. "But that's not the point. What is your wish? Wealth? Fame? Superpowers?"
As he said the last word, he made a ball of fire with his hands and let it dissipate.
"Anything you want," he said.
So it was real, or real enough to fool most people.
"Can I think over it while we have breakfast?" I asked. I kept bottles of overnight oats in the fridge and took two of them out. As I ate my first spoonful, I considered the options. Superpowers would be cool, but I wasn't brave enough for vigilantism or crime. Wealth was tempting, but I was wealthy enough on my own. I had no interests in mansions or sports cars. Fame was the exact opposite of what I wanted. I had most things people wanted. I just didn't have people.
"Can you help me get with my soulmate?" I asked. "Whoever he or she is?"
"You do realize that Callum here is a fledgling witch, do you not? It takes someone far more experienced to deal with matters of love."
"Then help me make friends, then, a makeshift family that I can care for, and that will care for me," I said, looking at Callum. "I'm all alone in this town, and I'm not very good at making friends."
I looked at Ambrose, who was resting on the kitchen island. "At least not human ones. I'm sorry I'm not offering you anything. I don't have cat food in the house."
"Friends?" Callum asked. "That's your wish?"
I nodded.
"I suppose I can introduce you to my friends," he said. "And my family. "
"Witches?"
"And humans," he said.
I laughed. "I guess I didn't ask for a very magical gift."
"Magic comes in different ways," Callum said.
Callum left, but Ambrose stayed.
"Do you want some almond milk?" I asked.
"Yes, please."
I no longer could see Ambrose as just a cat. There was more human in him than animal.
"I enjoyed your company, Ambrose. Feel free to come over if you ever need to or want to. No repayment necessary."
"He has repaid you, and so have I," Ambrose said. "Callum will grant you your second wish, and I have granted your first."
"Pardon?"
"I have helped you meet your soulmate," Ambrose said, leaping off the counter and disappearing into thin air.
"And I helped my hopeless master finally speak to a woman," a voice in the air said, although it could've just been my imagination.
