Through The Eyes Of

Homeless Kitty

Angela Nicoletti

I was free of that piece of shit boyfriend of mine. I had been hiding out from him the last few nights in a shelter. Last night while I was sleeping someone stole every last thing I owned; the only thing they left me was my cat that I'm lugging around in his cage. Probably the only reason they left him was because he had claws and has to be fed; people will steal anything apparently, even a tin cat dish. I have to find somewhere to go. If I stay out here like this I'm either going to run into the junkie scumbag, get raped, or even worse killed.

As I walk along the sidewalk I remember this neighborhood. It's where I had been traded for dope a few times. My mind wanders off to that nice dealer, Izzy. He told me if I ever needed any help to come find him. I really hope he is sincere about that because god knows I need his help right now.

My eyes scan the street looking for him but I see no sign of him. I'm distracted by movement from the cat carrier I've been dragging around for hours. I bend over and open the door to the carrier and scoop up my kitten into my arms. He instantly starts to purr and kneads at my shirt. I slouch down against the wall behind me and put the kitten on the ground to walk around for a minute and it scampers off a little ways behind some old boxes next to a dumpster and does it's business. Smart cat, it knows not to shit where it sleeps.

"What are we going to do little guy?" I ask as I run my hand down the length of his back. He actually meows back at me as if he understands what I'm saying.

My eyes scan my surroundings once more. Izzy had said that most people knew him around here and that I should just ask around for him. So I look for a person to ask as I keep on stroking the cat in my arms. No one looks like a junkie. Then I remember him mentioning the girls at the Cathouse around the corner. So I'm looking for a stripper. I put the grey ball of fur back into the cat carrier and I begin walking for the Cathouse. I smile at the cat in the cage who howls mournfully at his lost freedom; probably how the strippers in the Cathouse feel too, trapped by life with no way out.

I see two scantily dressed girls with big teased up hair standing there laughing and smoking cigarettes. I draw in a breath and approach them. "Hi," I smile shyly. One ignores me and the other just looks me over and rolls her eyes. Then they carry on as if I'm invisible. I clear my throat, "I'm sorry to bother you but I was hoping you could help me find someone named Izzy."

The one who had rolled her eyes at me does it again, "Apparently you weren't that good if Izzy didn't even take you back to his place sweety."

"I'm not...I haven't...He helped me out once and told me if I ever needed him I could just ask around for him," I explain.

The one who ignored me looks me over and huffs, "Don't look like a junkie to me. You some sort of fucking narc?"

I roll my eyes, "Yeah I'm a narc who carries a fucking cat as a wire and bullet proof vest. And I'm not a fucking junkie."

Miss rolling eyes steps closer to me, "Too bad because Izzy says don't tell anyone where he lives unless it's business."

"He did say that about guys," the quieter of the two says to her.

The eye roller glares at her, "You really want to help her get a piece of Izzy? The best fuck on Sunset?"

"Like she won't get it anyway," the quieter one shrugs. "Everyone's had him, she might as well too. Izzy lives a block behind us. There's one building in the middle of two vacant ones. It'll be the only one lit up. 201B. You can't miss it." The eye rolling bitch slaps her in the arm and they start to argue.

I say thank you but I don't think they hear me. I turn with my little gray cat in tow. God I hope the place they were sending me is really where Izzy lived. I was a bit skeptical. I found the place however, just as the stripper had told me.

I stand there and look at the numbers on the door searching for the strength to knock. I must raise and lower my fist to the door a dozen times before I quickly knock and fight the urge to turn and run. This was a bad neighborhood, there was no telling what exactly lurked behind that warped door.

Then it opens and I come face to face with leather pants, an opened white button down shirt and eyes squinted at the smoke from the end of a cigarette that dangled from his lips. He just looks at me expressionlessly a moment then I see the look on his face start to change.

"Angela?" He asks to make sure he isn't mistaken.

I nod. "You said if I ever needed help..." My eyes fall to the ground.

"Yeah, I'm aware honey. That boyfriend of yours put a loaded gun to my head a couple of nights ago. He said you were gone...but why did he think you'd be with me?" He skeptically asks.

"I...I may have said something about you in the heat of the moment," I shrug.

Izzy looks at my cat. "So I guess you need a place to crash?"

I bite my bottom lip and nod.

"And the cat?" He exhales smoke out to the side.

"Well him too...if it's not too much trouble...please?"

"Be nice to have a cat around, there's like a fuck ton of mice in this shit hole," he nonchalantly shrugs and drags from his cigarette.

"So you'll let me stay then?" I ask feeling hopeful.

"Why not, pretty sure my room mates will be cool with that. And I think my singer will be finding a place of his own soon...so he'll probably sublet," he thumps his cigarette past me to the stairwell.

"Oh Izzy, thank you so much," I sigh in relief.

"But," he says as he steps aside and lets me in. He shuts and locks the door. He takes the cat from me and lets itout of the cage down on the floor. "You have to pay a pet deposit."

"I don't have money. I have to find a job. I..."

Izzy cuts me off by pulling me to him and pressing his lips to mine, just like he had that night. He eventually pulls back and looks at me with a smirk, "Darlin ain't you learned yet that lots of shit can be bought without cash?"