Isaiah and the Kitten

Ericka was having a difficult time. Between the heavy, door, the stack of laundry, and the constant thud in her mind from the night before, the word hangover seemed too subtle. In spite of the pulsating pain between her temples, she still pushed herself to make the best of her Sunday and to get things done.

In the corner of the basement floor, Isaiah played with an imaginary ball of string, dancing his small fingers back and forth, trying to convince the kitten in front of him to see the string too. He played without a concept of time or repetition, as all little children his age do.

The small, black kitten, curled in a small ball, lay quietly.

Ignoring the poorly written and misspelled sign stating, "Quite! Don't let the door slam shut!" Ericka stepped onto the first rickety stair, and heavily clunked down the stairwell, feeling the noise of the impact of the door with the door jam like two hands clapping against her ears simultaneously.

Isaiah cringed with the sound of the door. He looked around, saw the light in the basement flip on, and quickly looked for places to hide. He was in the corner, past the stairs, well hidden from any passers-by. However, he would be in plain view if someone walked around the corner, but when he saw the two legs cascade down the steps and move away, keeping their heels to him, he continued playing.

The cat still did not stir to see the ball of string Isaiah had spun from his imagination.

Strands of Erick’s hair clung to the beads of sweat that had gathered on her forehead. Brushing them back with her right hand, she fumbled with her laundry basket and dropped two quarters from the handful she'd pulled from her pocket. "Shit." She said bluntly. Sliding the laundry basket on the top of the washing machine. The bottom caught one of the quarters and scraped it against the machine as she slid the basket. The metallic sound resonated through the cold, concrete basement.

Isaiah cringed and let out a small coo.

The noise caused a small vibration against the kitten's soft, black hair lining her ear.

Through Ericka’s throbbing head, the sickly sound of the quarter, and mild aggravation of dropping less than a dollar in change, she still swore she heard some foreign sound in the corner. "Hello?" She called out confused, "Is anyone there?" She paused for a moment, waiting for a reply. When she received none, she continued with her laundry.

Isaiah was growing a little frustrated with the kitten's lack of enthusiasm for the non-ball of string. He leaned in close, and said, "Kitty wake up. Wake up kitty."

The kitten stirred slightly.

Just a moment before she pushed the tray of quarters in to start the washing machine, Ericka heard a small voice in the corner of the basement asking a kitten to awake. "Okay, I know I heard someone that time. Who's there?" She started to walk over to where she heard the voice, pushing the quarters in and starting the machine as she left. The noise was clunky and loud and vibrated across the concrete floors.

Isaiah, happy the cat was now attentive and circling around his feet, froze at the sound of the washing machine. He did not hear Ericka coming toward him.

The kitten was content, even with the additional noise.

Ericka peeked around the stairs and looked closely at the corners to see if anyone was hiding. She recognize it was a child's voice and didn't want to scare anyone, but didn't want anyone sneaking up on her either. After inspecting the area thoroughly, she looked down, gasped, and pulled out her cell phone.

Isaiah peered up at Ericka, confused about what was going on. He was kneeling down, petting the cat who purred at his touch. He listened to Ericka as she spoke.

The cat, being naturally bilingual, listened to the conversation passively. "I'm sorry to be calling, but I just wanted you to know that there's a dead cat in the basement." She paused, "No. There's no one around that I can see." She paused again. "No, I'm not going to touch it. Just come clean it up." The cat watched this human female lean down and stare at another cat directly in front of her. This cat was not moving, so naturally, being a cat, she lost interest. She turned to the boy, curled up at Isaiah’s feet, and together they slowly faded away.