9 Lives: Stories for Cat Lovers, Page 2
A. Kale
After You
“Your time is up, friend,” Butch said in his usual deep voice. It made Kevin shudder. Come to think of it, everything about Butch unnerved him. His face, his hands, his strangely long fingers. His cat.
Kevin was usually impartial when it came to cats. He neither liked them nor hated them. He tolerated them. That was the extent of his relationship with the cats of the world.
But Butch’s cat repulsed him. It was black and muscular. Her flank shined as if Butch oiled it for her. And her eyes. Those damn yellow eyes.
Kevin closed his eyes and tried to think about what had brought him here, in this situation, in this small dirty room, in the company of a loan shark.
He’d come to the city five years ago. He was a nobody, had no family, had next to nothing, and was desperate. He lived as a homeless man for a couple of weeks, washing in public toilets and eating in soup kitchens, trying to keep himself looking like a human being. Then he lucked out. He met Butch. He seemed like a nice enough man, with his sharp suits, his deep, hypnotic voice, and his friendly black cat that purred at everyone she met.
Then, Butch offered him a job as a security officer for a warehouse at the edge of the city, an abandoned area where nothing lived but cats, dogs, vermin, and a few bums. He’d work twelve hours a day and receive a tad over minimum wage. He took the job.
Everything went fine, for a week. Then it all came tumbling down.
Butch asked him to share the inventory sheet of the warehouse with him, details about the security system used, and so on, and Kevin had naively complied. Then, a couple of days later, Butch and a couple of thugs broke into the place, and Butch told Kevin to look the other way. Kevin didn’t understand. Butch told Kevin that, thanks to Kevin and the information he’d provided them with, they were going to rob the warehouse and get away with it.
Kevin, a decent, hard-working man by nature, was devastated. He didn’t know what to do. He thought about going to the police. But Butch was ahead of him, as if he could read his mind, and told him that Kevin was the one who’d provided them with the information that had made the theft possible, which made him an accomplice. So if Butch went down, Kevin went down with him.
But that wasn’t all. Butch, who now, with his expensive black suits, slicked back hair, and deep voice, reminded Kevin of a disgusting reptile he’d once seen at the zoo, told Kevin that he owed him a monthly sum to keep his mouth shut about how Kevin had helped him and the thugs break into the place. Kevin couldn’t believe it. He was trapped, he had no one to turn to for help. Then it came to him that blackmail went both ways and that he had information that proved that Butch was the man who had robbed the warehouse.
When Butch heard that bit, he broke Kevin’s right hand.
Kevin had kept his mouth shut ever since and continued to pay Butch for his silence.
But now, standing before Kevin and his black cat, he didn’t know how to get out of this one. It was time to pay up and he had no money. His car had broken down earlier this week and it had cost him most of his paycheck to get it fixed. So the sum that Kevin usually kept tucked away for Butch had already been spent.
When he heard about that, Butch wasn’t happy.
“Time is up, friend,” he said and stroked the fur of his cat, who purred in response. Kevin took a step back, away from the man and cat.
“There is no more time to lose. Get my money or…” he left the rest unsaid, leaving it to Kevin’s imagination. Kevin’s right hand began to ache, a dull residual pain reminding him of what Butch had done to it in the past.
Kevin swallowed and held his damaged right hand in his left.
“You’ve got to give me more time, Butch. I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s too bad, Kevin,” Butch said, then got up, the cat jumped off his lap. He raised his hand, getting ready to beat Kevin.
Someone banged on the door of the room. Butch’s hand stopped in mid-air.
“Police! Open up, now!”
“Damn,” Butch said, his usually steady voice shaking.
“Come on, Tusk,” Butch called out to his cat, and they both jumped out the nearest window. Kevin looked around him for a second, stunned, unable to think.
Then, from behind the door:
“Police! Open up, Butch. We’ve got a warrant for your arrest. You’re going away this time. For a long time.”
Kevin knew that when they didn’t find Butch they were going to arrest him instead. They were going to question him, and maybe he would end up in prison.
No way, Kevin thought. I haven’t done anything!
“Open up!”
He thought about it for just a second, then he jumped out the window, into the night.
He landed on the balcony of the apartment below Butch’s. He grabbed the railing and looked above him, at the window he’d just escaped through.
A police officer was looking down at him.
“We got him!” the officer shouted.
Kevin couldn’t speak. He wanted to. He wanted to tell them that he wasn’t Butch. But he just couldn’t. He was too scared. Then he remembered how, on many occasions, people had pointed out the resemblance between him and Butch. Butch had even jokingly said once that if Kevin took more than a shower a month and could afford a good suit, he might pass as Butch’s younger brother.
No wonder they are after me. They think I am Butch!
He looked before him and saw that the window leading into the apartment was open. He went in. The apartment was dark. It looked abandoned. He looked around him, searching for the front door. It was to his left. He went to it and opened it. He ran toward the stairs and started taking them one at a time, slowly, quietly. He was going down.
Halfway down, a police officer reared his head from around the corner. When he saw Kevin, he smiled an ugly smile and said, “Gotcha!” Then he shouted, “He’s here!”
Kevin ran up the stairs, as quickly as he could, the police officer on his tail.
Then Kevin heard the officer shout, “Damn,” followed by the sound of him falling down. Kevin didn’t stop running, but glanced behind him and saw the cop sitting on one of the steps, grabbing his ankle, moaning in pain. Then Kevin thought he saw an animal scurry away, around the corner.
Kevin looked ahead of him and continued running up the stairs. He reached the door to the rooftop. He opened it and went outside.
It was a beautiful night, the sky moonlit, the weather cool and pleasant. Kevin tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating fast. He was drenched in sweat. He started to cry. How did I get here? How did I become such a coward? He kept looking up at the sky, the moon. He felt lost and helpless, small and broken. He’d never hurt anyone in his life. He was always kind to other people. He was just lost. Weak. He never stood up to anyone. He had no friends or older brothers to protect him or show him how to defend himself. Unlike what people thought, life on the streets made you a coward, afraid of your own shadow, not tough and cruel like in the movies.
He was a coward and he knew it. The police was going to get him and it was going to be all over.
God, how he wished for a second chance, a fresh start.
He could hear the police coming up the stairs. They were shouting. They sounded like monsters out to get him.
He stood in place, ready to face them. For once in his life he was going to stare life in the face and withstand.
Purrrrr…
He looked down and saw Tusk, Butch’s black cat, looking up at him.
He felt appalled. He hated that cat. Then it came to him: If Tusk was here, then Butch must be nearby. That cat was like his shadow. She would follow him to the moon. Like Kevin, Butch must have tried to escape but had gotten trapped and gone up.
Kevin looked around, searching for Butch.
“Come out, Butch. There’s no way out,” Kevin said, surprised at the strength he heard in his own voice.
“There’s no
place to hide. They are almost here.”
“Damn you to hell!” Butch said, then emerged from behind an air-conditioning compressor. He looked as sharp as ever. Only a smattering of dust on his right jacket lapel marred his look from being perfect. Or perfectly sleazy, Kevin thought and smiled.
“What are you smiling at, you moron?”
Kevin didn’t answer.
The police burst onto the scene, guns raised.
“Stop where you are, both of you!”
Kevin raised his hands and fell down on his knees.
“My name is Kevin. This man behind me is the one you’re looking for,” Kevin said.
Butch looked at Kevin hatefully and didn’t speak.
One of the police officers, an older man with a kind face, said to Kevin, “You two sure look alike, son. Got any ID?”
“I…” Kevin said, then remembered that he’d left his wallet in the glove compartment of his car, which was currently in the shop getting fixed.
Kevin was about to explain, when one of the officers said, “That man back there is Butch, alright. Look at that cat. Everybody knows Butch never goes anywhere without it, and this one there obviously knows its master.”
Kevin turned around and saw Tusk rubbing her head against Butch’s ankles, while Butch tried to kick her away.
“Get away. Get away. I don’t know this cat, I swear,” Butch said, raising his hands, trying to pretend that the cat disgusted him.
The older officer smiled, pointed at Butch with his pistol and said, “Arrest that man.”
Both of them ended up getting arrested. But Kevin got out the same night after he was ID’d, and Butch ended up in jail for a variety of offences. He was going to stay there for years, it seemed.
Kevin was never the same after that night. He became more confident, more outgoing, and his attitude was so noticeable and catchy, that he was hired as an administrative assistant (which in reality translated into postal clerk) at a small company, where they treated him well and the pay was good.
He rented a new apartment, since he needed more space for him and his companion.
It was strange, after that night, he’d felt sorry for her, had taken her home, and, after a couple of days, they had become the best of friends.
Now, he couldn’t imagine living without Tusk.
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“Your time is up, friend,” Butch said in his usual deep voice. It made Kevin shudder. Come to think of it, everything about Butch unnerved him. His face, his hands, his strangely long fingers. His cat.
Kevin was usually impartial when it came to cats. He neither liked them nor hated them. He tolerated them. That was the extent of his relationship with the cats of the world.
But Butch’s cat repulsed him. It was black and muscular. Her flank shined as if Butch oiled it for her. And her eyes. Those damn yellow eyes.
Kevin closed his eyes and tried to think about what had brought him here, in this situation, in this small dirty room, in the company of a loan shark.
He’d come to the city five years ago. He was a nobody, had no family, had next to nothing, and was desperate. He lived as a homeless man for a couple of weeks, washing in public toilets and eating in soup kitchens, trying to keep himself looking like a human being. Then he lucked out. He met Butch. He seemed like a nice enough man, with his sharp suits, his deep, hypnotic voice, and his friendly black cat that purred at everyone she met.
Then, Butch offered him a job as a security officer for a warehouse at the edge of the city, an abandoned area where nothing lived but cats, dogs, vermin, and a few bums. He’d work twelve hours a day and receive a tad over minimum wage. He took the job.
Everything went fine, for a week. Then it all came tumbling down.
Butch asked him to share the inventory sheet of the warehouse with him, details about the security system used, and so on, and Kevin had naively complied. Then, a couple of days later, Butch and a couple of thugs broke into the place, and Butch told Kevin to look the other way. Kevin didn’t understand. Butch told Kevin that, thanks to Kevin and the information he’d provided them with, they were going to rob the warehouse and get away with it.
Kevin, a decent, hard-working man by nature, was devastated. He didn’t know what to do. He thought about going to the police. But Butch was ahead of him, as if he could read his mind, and told him that Kevin was the one who’d provided them with the information that had made the theft possible, which made him an accomplice. So if Butch went down, Kevin went down with him.
But that wasn’t all. Butch, who now, with his expensive black suits, slicked back hair, and deep voice, reminded Kevin of a disgusting reptile he’d once seen at the zoo, told Kevin that he owed him a monthly sum to keep his mouth shut about how Kevin had helped him and the thugs break into the place. Kevin couldn’t believe it. He was trapped, he had no one to turn to for help. Then it came to him that blackmail went both ways and that he had information that proved that Butch was the man who had robbed the warehouse.
When Butch heard that bit, he broke Kevin’s right hand.
Kevin had kept his mouth shut ever since and continued to pay Butch for his silence.
But now, standing before Kevin and his black cat, he didn’t know how to get out of this one. It was time to pay up and he had no money. His car had broken down earlier this week and it had cost him most of his paycheck to get it fixed. So the sum that Kevin usually kept tucked away for Butch had already been spent.
When he heard about that, Butch wasn’t happy.
“Time is up, friend,” he said and stroked the fur of his cat, who purred in response. Kevin took a step back, away from the man and cat.
“There is no more time to lose. Get my money or…” he left the rest unsaid, leaving it to Kevin’s imagination. Kevin’s right hand began to ache, a dull residual pain reminding him of what Butch had done to it in the past.
Kevin swallowed and held his damaged right hand in his left.
“You’ve got to give me more time, Butch. I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s too bad, Kevin,” Butch said, then got up, the cat jumped off his lap. He raised his hand, getting ready to beat Kevin.
Someone banged on the door of the room. Butch’s hand stopped in mid-air.
“Police! Open up, now!”
“Damn,” Butch said, his usually steady voice shaking.
“Come on, Tusk,” Butch called out to his cat, and they both jumped out the nearest window. Kevin looked around him for a second, stunned, unable to think.
Then, from behind the door:
“Police! Open up, Butch. We’ve got a warrant for your arrest. You’re going away this time. For a long time.”
Kevin knew that when they didn’t find Butch they were going to arrest him instead. They were going to question him, and maybe he would end up in prison.
No way, Kevin thought. I haven’t done anything!
“Open up!”
He thought about it for just a second, then he jumped out the window, into the night.
He landed on the balcony of the apartment below Butch’s. He grabbed the railing and looked above him, at the window he’d just escaped through.
A police officer was looking down at him.
“We got him!” the officer shouted.
Kevin couldn’t speak. He wanted to. He wanted to tell them that he wasn’t Butch. But he just couldn’t. He was too scared. Then he remembered how, on many occasions, people had pointed out the resemblance between him and Butch. Butch had even jokingly said once that if Kevin took more than a shower a month and could afford a good suit, he might pass as Butch’s younger brother.
No wonder they are after me. They think I am Butch!
He looked before him and saw that the window leading into the apartment was open. He went in. The apartment was dark. It looked abandoned. He looked around him, searching for the front door. It was to his left. He went to it and opened it. He ran toward the stairs and started taking them one at a time, slowly, quietly. He was going down.
Halfway down, a police officer reared his head from around the corner. When he saw Kevin, he smiled an ugly smile and said, “Gotcha!” Then he shouted, “He’s here!”
Kevin ran up the stairs, as quickly as he could, the police officer on his tail.
Then Kevin heard the officer shout, “Damn,” followed by the sound of him falling down. Kevin didn’t stop running, but glanced behind him and saw the cop sitting on one of the steps, grabbing his ankle, moaning in pain. Then Kevin thought he saw an animal scurry away, around the corner.
Kevin looked ahead of him and continued running up the stairs. He reached the door to the rooftop. He opened it and went outside.
It was a beautiful night, the sky moonlit, the weather cool and pleasant. Kevin tried to catch his breath. His heart was beating fast. He was drenched in sweat. He started to cry. How did I get here? How did I become such a coward? He kept looking up at the sky, the moon. He felt lost and helpless, small and broken. He’d never hurt anyone in his life. He was always kind to other people. He was just lost. Weak. He never stood up to anyone. He had no friends or older brothers to protect him or show him how to defend himself. Unlike what people thought, life on the streets made you a coward, afraid of your own shadow, not tough and cruel like in the movies.
He was a coward and he knew it. The police was going to get him and it was going to be all over.
God, how he wished for a second chance, a fresh start.
He could hear the police coming up the stairs. They were shouting. They sounded like monsters out to get him.
He stood in place, ready to face them. For once in his life he was going to stare life in the face and withstand.
Purrrrr…
He looked down and saw Tusk, Butch’s black cat, looking up at him.
He felt appalled. He hated that cat. Then it came to him: If Tusk was here, then Butch must be nearby. That cat was like his shadow. She would follow him to the moon. Like Kevin, Butch must have tried to escape but had gotten trapped and gone up.
Kevin looked around, searching for Butch.
“Come out, Butch. There’s no way out,” Kevin said, surprised at the strength he heard in his own voice.
“There’s no
place to hide. They are almost here.”
“Damn you to hell!” Butch said, then emerged from behind an air-conditioning compressor. He looked as sharp as ever. Only a smattering of dust on his right jacket lapel marred his look from being perfect. Or perfectly sleazy, Kevin thought and smiled.
“What are you smiling at, you moron?”
Kevin didn’t answer.
The police burst onto the scene, guns raised.
“Stop where you are, both of you!”
Kevin raised his hands and fell down on his knees.
“My name is Kevin. This man behind me is the one you’re looking for,” Kevin said.
Butch looked at Kevin hatefully and didn’t speak.
One of the police officers, an older man with a kind face, said to Kevin, “You two sure look alike, son. Got any ID?”
“I…” Kevin said, then remembered that he’d left his wallet in the glove compartment of his car, which was currently in the shop getting fixed.
Kevin was about to explain, when one of the officers said, “That man back there is Butch, alright. Look at that cat. Everybody knows Butch never goes anywhere without it, and this one there obviously knows its master.”
Kevin turned around and saw Tusk rubbing her head against Butch’s ankles, while Butch tried to kick her away.
“Get away. Get away. I don’t know this cat, I swear,” Butch said, raising his hands, trying to pretend that the cat disgusted him.
The older officer smiled, pointed at Butch with his pistol and said, “Arrest that man.”
Both of them ended up getting arrested. But Kevin got out the same night after he was ID’d, and Butch ended up in jail for a variety of offences. He was going to stay there for years, it seemed.
Kevin was never the same after that night. He became more confident, more outgoing, and his attitude was so noticeable and catchy, that he was hired as an administrative assistant (which in reality translated into postal clerk) at a small company, where they treated him well and the pay was good.
He rented a new apartment, since he needed more space for him and his companion.
It was strange, after that night, he’d felt sorry for her, had taken her home, and, after a couple of days, they had become the best of friends.
Now, he couldn’t imagine living without Tusk.
To continue reading 9 Lives, buy your copy from Amazon right now.
Thank you for reading books on Archive.BookFrom.Net
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