Speck's Rise

Chapter 3

     Speck awoke to the morning sunlight kissing his face as it always did, the sound of rattling wires in a close proximity. He sat up, blinking away sleepiness, and looked outside the alleyway to understand what made the rattling.

     Cynthia was installing the wire barrier she had promised him the day before, using a sticky substance that came from a blob and plastic ties to adhere it to the alleyway. She pulled at the ties with a sharp zipping noise, and secured it around the rusty poles that suggested that a fence was erected many years ago. She then stuffed the sticky adhesive around the ties, pushing them together.

     "Hello Cynthia," Speck mewed in slight amusement, "You're working hard, eh?"

     Cynthia chuckled, her green eyes fixed intently on her work, "Yeah! I got up early to bring this over. The workfolk shot many glances at me; I had to sprint here in order to escape their grasps. They tried to take this from me!"

     Speck padded over to the wire, analyzing the imperfectness of the weaving, but admiring her intricate skill. He could never do something like this; even with practice.

     "I have your rats," he purred, turning to the prey-box, "I'll give them to you when you finish."

     Cynthia paused, looking at the speckled tom, "Alright!"

     She continued to work, seeming like she was almost finished. Speck padded over to the prey-box, knocking off the top of it and grabbing each rat one by one. After counting all five, he added a pigeon as a tip and leaped onto a box high atop the dumpster that loomed over the alleyway. He strained to grab a plastic bag that swayed in the wind like a flag and to bring it down to the ground. He opened it up, sticking each piece of prey in it as neatly as he possibly could. He placed the pigeon on top of the rats, patted it, and closed the bag.

     "I'm finished!" Cynthia's purr sounded satisfied, "If you need any more help, I'll be at the Beam Hub frequently."

     Speck perked his ears at her exuberant voice, grabbing the bag swiftly and tossing it over the new barrier. He watched her as she opened the bag and searched it for the correct pay.

     Cynthia closed it, grabbing it in between her teeth and purring, "Thank you for the tip!"

     "You're welcome!" Speck replied as she trotted away; across the road, "Thank you for the help!"

     Speck sat in silence as he stared at the weaved wire. He padded closer to it, realizing she added extra flair in the loops. An occasional strand of some kind of tinsel or sparkle wrapped around the wire at random intervals. Although subtle, it warmed Speck's heart to know how much care she put in her creations.

     He then realized Cynthia was a fast worker to get this metal sheet done in less than a day. He felt slightly bad; he should have paid her more. His gratitude was great, now knowing that Spot and the kits were probably safer than they were, and for only fives rats their safety was a steal!

     "Speck?" He turned to the little voice.

     "Yes?"

     "What is that?" The kit asked, confusion curling his tone upwards.

     "Well, Rosette," Speck padded over to the black kit, ushering him to come to him, "this is to keep you, your mother, and your siblings safe."

     Speck wrapped his long tail around Rosette, licking his forehead. The little kit looked up at his uncle, "Who made it?"

     "A good cat named Cynthia." Speck responded gently.

     Rosette shifted, cocking his little black head, "So that was who was making it?"

     "Yes," he nodded, "she made it because she is kind."

     "I want to be kind!" Rosette squirmed out of the grasp of Speck's tail, "I should make those things."

     Speck chuckled, touched by his nephew's pureness and naïvety, "Well, it takes moons of practice to reach that level of skill."

     "But I want to!" Rosette spun around, distracted by his own tail, "I will be nice and make things!"

     Spot yawned, chuckling, "Rosette, you cannot be a builder now, you are only two weeks old."

     "We're two-and-a-half moons!" Strike looked up at his mother from her abdomen.

     Feathers squeaked, "Yeah! We are grown up now!"

     Speck smiled, turning his gaze to the protesting kits, "If you say so! Do you want to hunt in the busy streets, or go without food for days, or die in a fight-"

     "Speck!" Spot interrupted her brother, glaring at him, "You're scaring them!"

     Speck looked at his nephews and niece; their eyes were wide in fear.

     "I was kidding!"

     As if the kits already forgot what he had said, they started to squirm from Spot's tail and to play.

     Speck waved his paw, chuckling slightly, "See? They didn't even care!"

     Spot furrowed her brow as she nodded before watching her kits, "Sure."

     "I wanna play a game called 'Wild Cats'!" Rosette squeaked.

     Bunny cocked his head, "What do we do in it?"

     The black kit dropped into a crouch, his thin tail lashing playfully, "We live in a forest and we have a group!"

     Feathers' eyes lit up, "Ooh!"

     "How does he know what a forest is?" Speck leaned to and asked Spot.

     Spot replied proudly, "I told them a story that mother told us about the forest cats. Isn't Rosette just so imaginative?"

     He nodded, "He sure is. Apparently naming him like our mother was a good idea."

     "She would've loved to meet a kit that was like her," Spot sighed, "in name and in character."

     Speck smiled, watching them play. Rosette had made himself the leader, made Cricket the second-in-command, and Bunny the medic. 

     "Can I be Strike's student?" Feathers begged, her ears back.

     Rosette simply nodded and went with the game.

     Speck felt a stab of heartbreak as Rosette looked at him with a large smile plastered on his face. His eyes were too much like Rosetta's. His demeanor was too much like Rosetta's. It pained him to be reminded of his beloved mother, especially while kits were playing imaginative games like he and Spot did with Rosetta.

     You are special, little one.

    Very special.