Dimensions

Chapter 3

Sally's apartment smelled like overpriced champagne and artificial roses. She opened the doors wide when we arrived and Dad scooped her up in his arms and span her around. She was wearing a tiny white dress and towering gold stilettos. Her golden hair shimmered around her shoulders. I wanted to smash in her stupid, prissy face.

I stalked my way past their entangled bodies into a marble nightmare. Everything was white and I stumbled back a few paces, shielding my eyes to the inescapable brightness. The removal guys obviously hadn't taken as many bathroom breaks as me, and all our boxes were stacked neatly in a corner I assumed was supposed to be a dining room. We'd scrapped most of our furniture so the only other things we'd brought with us were Dad's giant drawing board and my small bed with its tattered mattress.

I heard the tip tip tap of tiny heels on the marble floors and turned to see Sally tottering towards me, primping her hair and perfecting the rouge on her lips. Dad trailed behind, wiping the rouge off his neck.

"Charlie! Sweetheart! So lovely to see you again!"

She swept me into an embrace and I felt myself stiffen. I shot daggers at my father over her shoulder.

"Did you have a nice trip with your daddy?"

I scowled at her, "I'm not 5."

Sally chortled a fake laugh and waved a hand at me. "Of course not, silly! Now, you both must be hungry!"

Despite the hate in my heart I could not ignore the hunger in my stomach; my spirits lifted at the mention of food, and I hoped that it would be the kind that didn't come directly from a vending machine.

Sally began to tip tip tap her way to the kitchen, beckoning for us to follow with one clawed finger. Dad tried to put his hand on my back to guide me, but I flinched away as though his touch was lethal. Instead, in my typical teenage fashion, I folded my arms and stalked my way into the kitchen by myself.

The kitchen was a myriad of contradictions: black and white, gloss and matte, simple and extravagant all at once. It looked like something out of a movie, and I half expected to see waiters in long black tailcoats offering me canapés from a silver platter. Instead, I saw Sally flicking her hair over her shoulder and perusing a selection of takeout menus stuck on the silver fridge with black magnets.

"Charlie, do you like Chinese, sweetie?"

"Are you serious?" I asked, cocking my hip.

Sally blinked at me. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you on a diet?"

Anger flared in my chest. "No, I am not on a diet," I said through gritted teeth. "Couldn't you have cooked something?"

Sally gasped; she actually gasped. "I've been making this place look presentable, thank you very much."

I turned my nose away, determined to keep an air of moodiness despite Chinese being my favourite takeout ever.

"Charlie, don't be rude," Dad scolded. "Chinese sounds great, Sal." He wound his arms around her tiny waist and nibbled below her ear. "What do you reckon to going to pick it up from the store? We can get a quick tour in before we head out exploring tomorrow."

Sally giggled. "Okay, as long as I can drive." She tapped Dad lightly on the nose with her finger and made a 'grrr' noise. That time, I was almost positive that I was going to blow chunks all over Sally's pristine floors.

Sally began to teeter out of the kitchen with Dad in tow before he realised I wasn't following.

"Come on, let's go."

I rooted my feet to the earth. "I'm not going."

"Don't be stupid, Charlie, come on."

"I'm not hungry. I'm tired."

"Well, we'll get some good food in you and then you can go to sleep, alright?"

"Well, I hope you and Sally are kind enough to keep your canoodling to your own bedroom seeing as the couch will be occupied tonight." I sulked.

Dad planted his feet shoulder width apart and pointed a stern finger at me. "You watch your goddamn attitude, Charlie. This is the best place for us both to be right now and I will not tolerate your behaviour. Step up. And start acting grateful. I am not afraid to find some other arrangement for you."

He began to walk away.

"DO IT THEN," I screamed at his back.

"MAYBE I WILL," he screamed back, still walking, not turning around.

The door slammed behind him.

I dropped to the ground, put my head in my hands, and screamed.

5 minutes and I already hated this arrangement more than I thought I could ever hate it. I screamed muffled screams into my palms until I felt hot, salty tears run down my cheeks and through my fingers.

And then, I heard a sound that I hadn't heard in many years, a sound so familiar and pleasant I'd forgotten I'd ever found so much comfort in it: the tinkling of a bell on a cat's collar.

I lifted my head to see a small gray cat padding towards me. It had huge blue eyes and fur that looked as soft as feathers. Its little feet made the softest of sounds on the tiled floor, it as easy to imagine that its toes were just skimming the ground.

The cat came and sat right in front of me, not even a glimpse of hesitation in its movements. Then it gently dropped its head into my hands and began purring loudly as it nuzzled as far in as possible.

I hadn't had a cat since just before my mom disappeared and in that moment, I found more comfort than I'd ever felt before. This cat had dog-like instincts and I knew it understood that I was hurting and it wanted to help.

I stayed huddled over the kitchen floor clutching the cat to my body for a long time. Not once did it struggle to get away or give any intention that it was uncomfortable with what was happening. When I finally let go, it looked at me as if it was waiting for what we were going to do next. It followed me to the bathroom as I splashed some water on my face and attempted to brush out the tangles in my hair with my fingers. And as I tucked some blankets and pillows into the couch, it watched me intently.

Snuggled underneath an expensive feeling quilt, with my head resting on a silken pillowcase, I looked at the cat. It looked right back.

We stared for a couple of minutes before the cat gently lifted one of its paws as if it were going to come towards me. I smiled and patted a space on the couch next to me. The cat leapt onto the couch and curled up by my side. It looked up at me and I nodded at it before closing my eyes.

Thecat was still staring at me. I could feel it.