Redemption's Song and other short stories

Staples and Pins

Using an old staplegun she'd borrowed from her elderly neighbour, the girl in the duffle coat fixed the picture of her cat, Fermat, to the post. As the wind threatened to snatch Fermat's dark eyes from her grasp, she cried, but she didn't stop to wipe away the tears until the sad message with its paltry reward was firmly attached: eight shiny new staples gleaming amidst a forest of rusting pins and tattered pleas for help.

It had been difficult to find a space on the old wooden telegraph pole. Her cheaply printed "Missing Cat" poster covered several older pictures of lost moggies, their colours fading in the sun or turning into multi-hued papiér maché in poorly sealed bags and plastic sleeves.

Her gloved fingers traced the memory of the missing cat's cheek, the plastic cover fluttering in the chill wind and she placed the stapler back in her bag alongside the remaining few pamphlets. Snow crunched under her boots, her exposed cheeks raw in the cold from several miles of walking the streets.

Her breath clouded the air around her and she spoke into the dark eyes of the picture. "Oh Ferm, where are you baby?"

She turned and sank down onto the bench at the foot of the post, her back resting against the wood, hooded head titled back against Fermat's picture. "I can't do this without you Ferm," she said softly, the wind whipping away the cloud of her breath as fresh tears froze on her eyelashes.

~

"Hello, Control, this is Officer Pierce."

"Control receiving. Officer Pierce, please go ahead."

"Thanks Control. I'm just finishing my patrol. There's not much going on out here, it's too damn cold for most people at the moment. The only thing I've seen all morning is a girl crying on a bench by the public notice board on the corner of College and Yonge, and some poor old guy dumpster diving nearby: other than that, it's pretty dead out here.

"Commander Kelly had said something about pets being snatched in the area, and to keep an eye out, but I've seen nothing that looks odd."

"Okay Pierce, head back in and grab a hot drink, thanks for the update."

"Thanks Control, see you soon."

~

She lost track of how long she sat there, tears freezing on her cheeks, the sun dappling the woods of the park. The shadow of the post moved on the snow, and she was brought back to herself as her cellphone buzzed. Removing a glove, she reached stiffly into a pocket, her hands numb with cold, and looked at the screen.

"Feeding time," noted the daily diary entry she'd programmed to jolt her out of whatever daydream she was in at the time. As she stood, joints protesting, she dropped her phone back into the copious pocket of her duffle coat and pushed her glasses back up her nose. Her hand lifted once again to the picture of her cat, one finger tracing his face.

"I'll find you Ferm, I promise."

As she turned to go, she slipped on the icy pavement and grabbed instinctively at the post for support, her bare hand raking painfully down the rusting pins and staples on the noticeboard. She staggered back in shock and pain, as words slammed into her mind.

"... reward offered..."

"... answers to the name Tilly..."

"... last Thursday in Kensington District..."

"... please ring Terry..."

"Missing Cat."

"Missing Cat."

"Missing Cat."

"Missing Cat."

"Please help me find..."