Becoming a House Cat

Becoming a House Cat Part 1

Willa the witch had sent me a message that morning. The apples were ripe at last. The apples she referred to were enormous and sweet as candy. The tree itself was as big as an oak.

From afar, I could see a woman climbing its branches. She was severely underdressed for a fall day in her purple bloomers and sports bra. They exposed her silky dark skin and toned body to the cool early October breeze passing through the waving leaves. She also had on muddy track shoes. The wind blew my way. She smelled like a cat.

I thought she was aiming for the plump apples at the top until I heard the cries of a baby bird, which stopped abruptly. As I got near the foot of the tree, the woman fell to the grass, landing on her feet. Finally, taking notice of me, she hissed and hid behind the tree trunk. She watched carefully from the other side through her massive bangs.

Her surprise was, well, no surprise. I was an imposing fellow, being a bear shifter. I also approached her downwind and silent. I kept walking, fainting to ignore her. I reached a tall branch to pick an apple. Her mouth half closed as she tilted her head up at the apples. I picked another and handed it to her. In exchange, she laid the dead body of a fat cuckoo chick in my palm. She placed the apple received in a large reeds basket pulled from behind the tree. She hooked it on a broken branch before climbing.

"May I assist you in picking apples?" I put the chick in my breast pocket with the thought of burying it later.

"Sure." Her fluffy cloud of hair bounced with every short leap or reach up.

"My name is Stephen. What's yours?" I put the other apple in her basket.

"Cece." She sat on a branch, making her a higher than me.

Her voice was quiet. I hear every sound she made, as if she said it right into my ear. My gaze was stuck on the subtle movements of her lips at her enunciation.

"Nice to meet you, Cece. What are you doing alone in these woods?"

"Willa sent me. For the apples." She grabbed one and yanked it off the branch before gazing at the basket below. The fall was at high risk of bruising the precious fruit.

I took the weaved reeds and held it up to her while she put the apple in it. We proceeded this way until her basket was full. She had climbed to the top of the tree and suddenly clung to one of the tree's limbs. It appeared she realized she was too high for comfort in the thinning branches of the canopy.

"Do you need help to come down?" I put the filled vessel at my feet.

"No..." She put a foot on a death branch, which promptly fell as she pulled herself back up to her safe spot. "Maybe."

"Jump here. I'll catch you."

"Too high." She attempted to climb down again, slowly this time. She seemed to have difficulties coordinating her limbs.

"I'm still there if you fall." I could smell her fear.

Once she got to six feet above ground, I approached.

"Move," she hissed when I reached towards her.

"You're almost there. Let me help you down." Truth was, I wanted to touch her.

"Move."

"Alright." I stepped back, taking the basket with me, feeling a pinch in the heart.

She jumped, landing on her feet once more. Facing me up close, she tilted her head up towards my face before grabbing the basket from my hands. She must have been a foot and a half shorter than me. Two without the afro. She wasn't that short. I was the one nearing seven feet.