Misty

Marcus’ voice reached her garbled by the background noise of the party, seemingly already in full swing.

“Adi? You can’t find who?”

Adeline shifted her phone to the other ear, reaching out with her right hand to finger the torn edge of the flyscreen.

“Misty. I’ve looked everywhere inside. She’s gotten out again.” She paused, “I’m sorry, Marcus. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can”

Adeline let herself out of the laundry door, scanning the yard. Late afternoon sunshine bathed the sizeable garden in an orange glow. Golden hour, she’d heard her photographer friends call it. This limbo time between afternoon and evening, which now in the early summer seemed to stretch longer by the day. She understood the photographers’ infatuation. In this light the unmowed lawn could be construed as a meadow. The weeds, wildflowers. Even the litter of their unfinished gardening projects was romanticised by the diffuse warmth of the almost-setting sun.

A half-acre had really been too much to take on, she thought to herself now. Particularly considering the extent of the work required inside the house. But by the time of the auction Marcus was in love. What could she say? She could see the future he was dreaming of here. A future for them both. That’s what she wanted too- a future with Marcus. So she went along, and gritted her teeth as the bids climbed ever eye-wateringly higher.

But now there was so much to do. Projects. Day-to-day upkeep. Dishes forever collecting in the sink. Clothes on the line that would soon turn damp as the evening descended.

Christ, there were so many more important things they could be doing tonight than attending a party for another rapidly dead-ending highschool friend. A friend of Marcus’...

Stop. Stop resenting it, she reminded herself. After all, hadn’t Marcus, just last weekend, taken time from his own schedule to spend the day with her friends? Of course, at this point she hoped he counted her close group as his own friends too. She knew that they liked him. Now, at least. It was funny, after all this time, to think of the way they reacted when she and Marcus had first started to date. Back before everyone was partnered and settled. When the group chat sustained itself almost solely on the sharing of screenshots from Tinder. Posts from Bad Dates of Melbourne sent back and forth, almost with a spirit of one-upmanship to divulge a worse tale from a recent encounter.

Still, she should try to get to this party. And not too late. She pulled out her phone and checked on the time. Well… not too too late.

Adeline cast her eyes about for any sign of Misty. Nothing that she could spot from the laundry stairs.

This wasn’t the first time the cat had gone missing. Since moving to this house Misty had seemed intent on a constant search for an unlatched door, a slightly opened window. Plans to build a catio- an enclosure attached to the house, to fulfil Misty’s desires for outdoor enrichment, were reluctantly agreed to by Marcus, but had been waylaid by lack of time. The lumber was purchased and sat near the laundry steps, collecting a sad mantle of dried grass clippings.

On the first two occasions that Misty escaped she made her own way back to the house, unscathed. But on the third she was delivered home only after posts in several local Facebook Lost and Found groups, reporting her as missing. She’d had a run-in with a neighbour’s dog. Adeline’s pulse quickened even now at the thought of the blood, remembering leaving Misty at the vet that day, faced with the very real possibility that she may lose her forever.

Adeline moved to the base of the stairs, shining her phone light into the gloom beneath them in the hope of spotting a white-tipped tail. She called Misty’s name, softly, self-conscious that the neighbours might hear her. Then louder when she got no response. She opened the shed door and searched inside. Perhaps Marcus had been in here earlier and unknowingly shut the cat in? She walked the periphery of the fence line, and stood in the driveway, holding her breath as she scanned the road and gutters- fearing the sight of an unmoving black and white bundle. Say she had been hit by a car and injured? Could she have tried to make her way home, be waiting for help under a bush somewhere? Anything could have happened to her. It’s snake season. Tick season- she’d lost a cat to a paralysis tick when she’d been a young girl. Christ, when had she last applied Misty’s parasite treatment?

She started back through the garden, peering beneath each bush and hedge. She could feel the branches dislodging her slicked pony tail, but she persisted. She got down on hands and knees to shine her phone light under the dense nasturtiums taking over the vegetable patch, muddying the knees of her jeans as they sunk into the soft soil- recently turned and prepared, awaiting the planting of tomatoes that time had so far not permitted.

Her phone buzzed in her hand- a text. ‘Where are you Babe?’

Christ, was that the time? She could imagine Marcus at the party explaining her absence. Likely scoffing at her worry about the cat.

‘Dog person’ his profile had stated; his first photo a shot of him hugging a clearly excitable Golden Retriever puppy. The dog had turned out to belong to a mate, a fact apparent only after Adeline suggested an early date at a dog park.

In the beginning Adeline had been disturbed by the almost open disdain Marcus shown for Misty. ‘Just not a fan of cats’ he’d said. Adeline had met people like this before and was generally of the belief that anybody who professed this sentiment had merely not met the right cat. The right cat was Misty. Misty was outgoing and free with her affection. She had converted many a non-cat-person visiting her uni share-house, with a knack for bringing out her most charming idiosyncrasies when she sensed these types about. Some of these friends had even gone on to adopt cats of their own, citing Misty’s charisma as weighing into their decision.

The relationship between Marcus and Misty, however, had never gone beyond what Adeline would call an uncomfortable truce. Marcus surely knew and understood how much Misty meant to Adeline. Early on she had been embarrassed that Marcus had overheard her tell the cat that she loved her- long before any similar words were said between the couple. Was there an element of jealousy? Perhaps. Misty was always the emphatic answer to the ‘What would you save in a fire’ question. Adeline would often fall asleep with the cat curled against her breast, when Marcus stayed up late. And Misty would frequently have her out of bed with pleas for breakfast before Marcus woke in the mornings. Sure, she could see that this might cause some irritation. It impacted on their sex life, for one thing. But what she kept coming back to was that her relationship with Misty predated Marcus by years. Misty was an older cat now, and used to a routine and, Adeline felt, the emotional reliability of having Adeline there for her when needed. After all, the life of a pet was under your complete control as an owner. Didn’t all pet owners have an obligation to provide the best life possible? They had been through so much together. Wasn’t it understandable that Misty was, really, her first love?

Her phone buzzed, a call from Marcus coming through. ‘Adi? Babe? Are you on your way?’

‘Hey, Marcus, sorry. I haven’t found her yet. I’m really worried.’

‘Sorry Adi, I’d help you look, but I really shouldn’t drive now. Look, they’re all asking me where you are. Is there really anything more you can do now, anyway? It’ll be getting dark. She’s probably just out hunting. She’ll be fine. Cats are basically wild animals, aren’t they? And she’s done this before. Just waltzed in the next morning as if you hadn’t had me out half the night looking for her.’

‘Yeah, I’m just concerned. What if it’s like last time?’

‘It won’t be. But look, what if we put up a post. If you send me a photo I’ll put one together for that Lost and Found page while you start over here, before it gets too late.’

‘And if anyone replies?’

‘If anyone replies we’ll head back.’

In the album on her phone labelled ‘Misty’, Adeline swiped through to find something suitable. She settled on a shot of Misty sitting on their bed, regal, looking at the camera. Her golden eyes as bright as the gold bell and nametag on her blue collar. She sent it off, and conscious of the time, realising she would need to change clothes and redo her hair, headed back towards the house.

Halfway up the stairs to the back door Adeline tripped on a soft bundle, almost screamed. Christ, thank God. She thought she’d stepped on a body, on Misty. She caught her breath. Just Marcus’ damn work boots, absolutely caked in mud, and his chore coat. She wished he would stop leaving these here- shedding them onto the back steps as soon as he was done with his yard work, the boots uncleaned, despite the boot scraper she had positioned in easy access to the door, the chore coat always to be found sodden with dew the next morning.

The boots he could deal with himself, she didn’t have time now, but she grabbed the coat to take in with her. A musical jingling from the pocket. A familiar jingling. She felt into the pocket, the darkness gathering rapidly as the sun dipped below the horizon. He finger closed on a nylon strip, metal. In the light of her phone- a blue collar. A bell. A nametag.

‘Misty’