The strange time slips and voices and sensations that didn’t belong to the modern world were getting more frequent. More destabilizing. Micah wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep looking like everything was still normal with him. Fortunately, he didn’t have to this morning. Elise had an early shift. Daniel had taken the girls to school so he could make his department meeting. The house was quiet. Empty. He was unobserved.
Or almost.
Fortinbras sat in the kitchen doorway like a sphinx, immovable and judging, giving Micah the distinct impression he was being guarded. Surely a cat couldn’t sense his inner turmoil. But this was not unusual. Elise’s geriatric cat, a gift from Daniel back when they were in college, had long ago decided Micah was his responsibility.
What was unusual was Ananda. The sleek, long-haired cat had parked herself on the counter, tail tucked neatly around her paws, eyes bright with intent. Normally, earning her attention required tribute. Treats. A new toy. Or the sacred brush and a grooming session that exceeded any reasonable time limit.
Micah was attempting to make coffee for the second time. The first pot had been undrinkable, even by his abysmally low standards. He needed caffeine. Badly. Ananda disagreed. Every time he reached for something, her paw appeared. On his hand. On the power button. On the lid of the coffee can. She blocked him with surgical precision.
He tried moving her. She flowed back into place. He tried bribing her. She sniffed and looked insulted. At one point, he was fairly certain she was laughing at him. Micah slid the packet of filters aside and sighed. “Fine, Ananda. You win. No coffee from home today.” Fortinbras did not move during all of this. He merely watched, unimpressed.
“Bennett’s overpriced, over-flavored beverage that likes to pretend it’s coffee, it is,” he said mildly. “Listening to him talk about the weather, the price of beans, and what Charles Dickens was really thinking when he wrote Great Expectations is, apparently, an acceptable price for me to pay to get some caffeine. In your opinion, Ananda.” He paused, then chuckled softly to himself. Bullied by a cat, he thought, while my life is quietly unraveling.
Micah grabbed his keys, shrugged into Pop’s old Navy jacket, and stepped carefully over Fortinbras on his way to the front door. And somehow, the world didn’t feel quite so dark. He realized, as he climbed into Driftwood’s driver’s seat, that he was actually looking forward to seeing his friend. Cats, Micah decided, were terrifyingly competent creatures.
Alone in the house, Fortinbras lifted his head just long enough to watch Ananda groom her whiskers and one ear, perfectly composed, as if she hadn’t engineered the entire outcome.
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