Puddles

Thunder cracked the furious sky, torrential rains punishing the land below as the heavens themselves seemed to battle. The rain fell in an unyielding downpour, drenching everything below the overfilled clouds. Darkness came with the heavy torrent, covering the land in its shroud. Arcing flashes of lightning streaked behind the clouds, bathing the drenched land below in dim flashes of light. As each bolt faded, the darkness came rushing back, eager to retake the land. The sharp crack of thunder announced its return, rumbling through the countryside.

With each clouded flash, images of the land appeared in view. A massive forest, tall pine trees standing resolute against the storm, covers a landscape of rolling hills. The forest surges across the land like a wave, breaking into small clusters and reaches of pines that dot the countryside. Cottages and buildings weather the storm, standing amidst the pines like corpses, pieces breaking from them like old bark falling away from the nearby trees. Old, stained brick holds back the battery, betrayed by time and age as water seeps through holes.

A massive barn holds itself together against the storm, standing alone atop a low rising hill like a grim watcher over its brethren. Wooden walls, long washed of any semblance of paint, do little more than keep the sheet metal roof from caving in, time and rot taking its toll. Rust covers the top like a disease, the rain creating odd running colors from the mixture of the two. A cacophony of rattling splashes emanates from the rain, interrupted by the resounding cracks of thunder only to return soon after.

Within, the roar of the metal roof echoed loudly across the barn, an unconducted symphony of noise. Like a radiant harbinger, lightning flashes through the gaps in the walls, giving a glimpse of decayed equipment and rotting hay. Thunder swiftly followed its roar threatening to bring the barn down, rattling the walls and roof. Old wooden posts and broken gates within the barn swung in the errant gusts of wind that found their way through the cracks, adding to the noise. As the noises faded, the storm pausing for a moment, a singular mewling cry whimpered out from beneath the rotting tire of the tractor within the barn.

Shivering in the darkness, desperately crying out into the roaring night, a cat cowers behind the rusted wheel of a tractor. Its trembling body, wet from the rain, flinched at each rolling rumble of thunder. With each flash, it retreats beneath the shelter of the tractor, venturing out once again under cover of darkness. With each pause in the noise, the small incessant mewing is whisked away by stormy winds.

The rain begins to fall stronger, the dull roar of the roof now turning tumultuous, sending the cat into its found safety. Lightning began cutting the sky, the rolling of thunder echoing from all directions like buffeting waves of sound. Wind attacked the panels of the barn, the rain finding entry as new cracks formed. A bright flash filled the barn with light, and a deafening boom cracked out from above. A side door of the barn slammed open, a figure standing in the echoing flashes of light following the close strike.

A man stepped into the barn, his ears still ringing from the massive thunderclap. Stumbling forwards, he caught himself against a wall, his hand sliding across the slick wet wood. He grunted, pulling his hand close to his face to inspect the splinter he had just acquired. He nudged the door closed with his leg, gnawing at his hand in a feeble attempt to rid himself of the sliver. Giving up, he forced a yawn as he looked around for something to hold the door closed with, the wind pushing against his foot propped against it. As lightning lit the room again, he saw a nearby wooden plank. Pivoting against the door to grab it, he gingerly set about propping it up, careful to not acquire any other splinters.

Feeling secure within the loud barn interior, the man found a dry spot opposite a rack of rusted tools and began to pile what little useable straw he could to find some comfort. He wrestled his backpack off, groaning with each movement of the water-soaked travel weight. Setting it away from his nest of dry straw, he began to shuffle around the confines of the barn, investigating for more bedding. Ducking at the occasional bang of thunder and rubbing his aching shoulders, the man began gathering a small pile of dry, useable straw.

Returning with additional bedding, he began removing the soaking outer layers of clothes he wore, careful not to further the already too-large holes in them. He shivered as he held up his coat, careful to keep it at arm’s reach as water formed into small puddles beneath it. Throwing it over a drier section of a wall, he knelt down, pulling the worn boots from his feet. He set them nearby as he sat down in his nest, placing his damp socks next to the shoes and beginning to tear through his backpack.

Stretching his shoulders and leaning against a fence wall within the barn, the man pulled the wool blanket over him. Carefully balancing the leather bag of jerky he had set on top of it, he continued to read the worn novel in his other hand. The lightning providing barely enough light for him to continue at an unsteady pace. As he settled, he reached a hand over, almost instinctually checking for his backpack. Satisfied it was still in its exact spot, he began tearing at a piece of jerky as he turned a page. The rapid, muffled flashes of lightning slowed further as the man squinted, pulling the book close to read the last of the line. The rooftop rattling lessened, turning his attention as he closed the damp novel and stowed it away. A few grunts escaped his lips as he shuffled into a more comfortable position, idly chewing on jerky as he found a soft spot against his pack for his head. Pulling out two more pieces, he wrapped the bag up and set it aside, settling further as his eyes wandered to the largest of the holes in the roof. The rain had slowed to a steady downfall, a hypnotizing spectacle accompanied by the obscured flashes that lulled the man into profound drowsiness.

A noise shook the man from drifting, his mind thrust from exploring a serene and peaceful night sky, back to the damp floor of the barn. His eyes blinked, blind in the darkness, the thunder and lightning now absent. He silently cursed for not finding something to protect himself with as he kept blinking, eyes adjusting slowly. Wet straw came into view, his eyes making out the shapes of the barn’s rusted tractor and rotten walls and a shivering silhouette before him.

He didn’t move, half terrified, half intrigued, as the soaking skeletal frame of a thin, brown-furred cat inched closer to him. The shivering cat pawed forward, rain gusting in through cracks that sent it skittering against the same wall as the man. Large eyes darted around the ceiling, searching for the source of the sound. Another soft cry echoed out, its face scrunching in defiance of the moisture, as it looked now towards the pile of cloth and warmth that the man was.

“Hey there.” he breathed out, the cat startling and backing up a step. A hissing meow warning him to tread carefully as he shifted his weight to a more comfortable position.

“You doing ok?” He struggled a hand out of the blanket, reaching for the bag of jerky. “Hungry? I have enough to share.”

The cat stepped back once more, its foot dipping into a small puddle and pulling out immediately, shaking the cold water off. The man pulled a piece of jerky from the bag, tearing a tiny sliver and holding it forward.

“Trust me, you’ll enjoy this and the blanket more than that puddle.”

A hissing meow in response.

“Fine,” He set the jerky down on the closest corner of the blanket, “I’ll save it for myself. You’d probably complain.”

The cat took a few tentative steps forward, each paw shaking liquid off.

“No, no. It’s mine now. You said you didn’t want it.”

A defiant meow and a few more steps, the jerky now within paws’ reach.

“Well, fine, I guess I don’t mind sharing. What’s your name?”

Large circular eyes looked up with this meow, no longer threatening but curious. It crouched down to sniff at the jerky, a tentative nibble followed. The man didn’t move a muscle. His breath seemed louder than the scattered splashed of rain from above. Tastes began to turn into tiny chomps. He relaxed slightly, slowly hovering a hand over.

“Is it good? I know it’s a little bland, but I suppose you like that.” He sighed to himself, wishing he had something to make it taste better. “Well, there’s more if you want it.”

The head looked up once more. This time the mouth opened, but the man heard nothing. He lowered his hand in front of its nose, cautious of being bitten, feeling the soft, moist nose sniff at his fingers. He winced as a nibbling bite pinched his index finger.

“Yea, it probably smells like food, here have some more.” He ripped off a more significant piece and set it in front of the cat, brushing his hand alongside its face as he pulled away. It shook out, one side of its face now slicked upwards, and meowed, nudging its head into his hand. He smiled, running his hand down the length of its body slowly, a small rivulet of water running off.

Pulling a loose section of the blanket over, the man wrapped the cat slowly, stopping for the occasional defiant meow until he felt satisfied with the small nest he had made for it. He sat back, leaning his head against the wall and placing another piece of jerky down.

“Get comfortable. This storm is here for a while.” He nestled in, the now drying cat watching him with wide eyes and tense posture. The man watched the cat eat, nibbling on a piece himself as he fed a few more to the hungry creature. The rain began to come down harder, the rooftop symphony once again picking up from the intermission it had taken. As he felt his eyelids growing heavier, he placed a hand near the nest, feeling a faint, purring vibration from the wool.

Slow, echoing pattering, and soft light in the cloud-filled sky woke him. The rain had subsided to a mild drizzle. He didn’t move, fearing the explosion of anger from his sore muscles before he remembered the previous night, head turning slowly to look at the lump of blankets. The nest had fallen over throughout his slumber, but as he gingerly moved aside portions of blankets, two tiny, damp paws and a spiky head revealed themselves, the eyes still mostly closed from sleep.

“Oh, glad you stuck around. I’m getting out of here before the place comes down. You feel like tagging along?” He stretched out, Feeling up the wall for his coat, to his dismay, finding it was still wet. He sat up and began putting the few things he left out away. Waiting to move the blanket until last, the cat not moving from its self-made bed. He stretched once more, looking down at the small creature as he did.

“Ready to go?”

A loud meow responded something the man took as a good sign. He shook out his coat, happy the inside had dried relatively well, and opened the most oversized pocket on the front. Pulling out the stray wires he had stuffed within, shoving them into his backpack before reaching down to pick up the cat. As he wrapped his hand around its chest, he felt the soft purring of the sleepy creature. Smiling, he gently placed the cat within the pocket, trying his best not to upset it.

As he packed away the blanket and slung the backpack over his shoulders, he felt soft kneading claws against his chest and looked down. The small face staring back up at him as another soft meow come out. He felt the creature purring against his chest. As he moved aside the barricade of the door, he placed the flap of the pocket over the cat’s head, its ears being mashed down by the damp fabric.

“Alright, let’s find something to eat other than jerky.”