by Susan Stoker
His foot was released from whatever it was that had been holding it up and he fell back on the ground next to Brinique.
“I think we had better get the introductions out of the way…don’t you? My name is Jango Fett,” the calico said. “And the white cat is Boba Fett. You can call us Jango and Boba, it’s easier. The handsome gray guy you so rudely tried to kick is Fatty.”
Brinique was the first to find her tongue. She crawled forward and said, “I’m Brinique. This is my sister, Davisa, and that’s Tommy.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Have you got any food?” Fatty asked, licking his chops.
“Yeah, preferably hotdogs? It’s been forever since I’ve had one of those. Zelda won’t buy them for us,” Boba complained.
“Oooh, what about Oreos? It’s been ages since I had an Oreo,” Jango chimed in, his ears perking up on his head in excitement.
“What are you guys doing?”
The voice came from above them, and all three children spun guiltily to see their mommy standing behind them.
“Oh look! Kitties! They’re so cute!” Alabama cooed, leaning over, resting her hands on her thighs to get a closer look.
“They can talk!” Davisa told her mom excitedly.
“They can?” Alabama smiled indulgently down at her daughter. “What’re they saying?”
“That they’re hungry,” Brinique chimed in.
Alabama laughed and stood up. “Well, I can see they don’t miss many meals. I don’t have any cat food, but I might be able to find a can of tuna. You want to see if they’ll eat it?”
“Yes!” both girls said immediately.
“Gross! Tuna,” Fatty said, wrinkling his brow. “Why do humans think we like to eat fish that’s been sitting in a can for who knows how long? A nice fresh salmon, maybe, but tuna? Ugh.”
“They don’t like tuna,” Tommy told Alabama matter-of-factly.
“They don’t?” Alabama asked in surprise. “What do they like?”
“Salmon. Fresh.”
Alabama smiled down at the boy. “I don’t think I’ve got any in the house. Sorry. What else?”
Tommy turned back to the trio of felines. “She says she doesn’t have any. What else do you want?”
“Do you think we’re deaf, boy?” Boba asked. “We can hear her as well as you can. We’re sitting right here.”
“But she can’t hear you,” Tommy said in confusion.
The white cat shrugged. “That’s because we’re not talking to her. We’re talking to you. Tell her a bowl of milk would be great for now. Later she can get us hotdogs and Oreos.”
“Milk?” Fatty exclaimed. “Gross.”
“You think she’s gonna make you a nice rare steak and bring it out, dummy?” Boba used his paw to box Fatty’s ear. “No. We need to start small. We can work our way up to the salmon and filet mignon,” he grouched at the other cat.
Tommy giggled and turned to Alabama. “They say a bowl of milk will do for now, later they want Oreos, hotdogs, salmon, and filet minion.”
“Not ‘minion,’ boy,” Fatty groused. “Like we’d want to eat a yellow fluffball. They’re disgusting. Steak. Tell her we want steak later.”
Tommy glared, not liking that he’d been rebuked by the cat. The smile now gone from his face as if it hadn’t been there at all, and he didn’t pass along Fatty’s request.
Tommy missed the tender look Alabama gave him. He didn’t realize that it was the first time he’d smiled or giggled since he’d moved in. He also didn’t realize that the small glimpse of happiness he showed to Alabama was the first time in a long time he wasn’t afraid or scared about what would happen to him.
“I’m not sure about the filet, but I’ll go and get some milk. Don’t wander off. I’ll be right back,” Alabama told the kids, running her hand lovingly over Davisa’s head.
All three children nodded absently, still staring at the truly strange sight of the three cats in front of them, licking between their legs.
“So…um…excuse me,” Tommy ventured awkwardly, once Alabama had walked away, not really wanting to interrupt the cats, as it looked like they were having a really good time lapping at themselves. “Where did you come from?”
“Assjacket, West Virginia,” Jango said, licking his chops.
“Ooooh, you said a bad word!” Davisa told the cat, her eyebrows shooting upward in shock.
“Oh…er…yeah, sorry,” Jango said remorsefully.
“West Virginia? That’s on the other side of the country,” Tommy told the cats. “You couldn’t have come from there. It’s too far.”
“Well, we didn’t walk, silly,” Boba said.
“Then how did you get here?” Tommy asked in confusion.
“We transported,” Fatty told him.
“I don’t understand.”
“Magic. We got here by magic. The same way you can hear us talking. We’re familiars. Our witch is named Zelda. Her mate is a wolf shifter named Mac. He has a son named Jeeves, who is a kangaroo. Our previous witch was Hildy, but she died after being killed by the honey badgers,” Jango said in a rush, not caring that he was throwing a lot of information at the children.
Tommy, Davisa, and Brinique simply stared at the calico cat in confusion, not saying a word.
“Are they daft?” Boba asked Jango in an aside. “Why aren’t they saying anything? They’re staring at us as if they had a spell put on them. Do you think the badgers got to them?”
“No, they’re not crazy. You just blurted out way too much information for them, stupid,” Fatty told Boba. “Look,” he said to the kids. “All you need to know is that we’re here now. We won’t be staying forever, but you’re gonna need us. You can talk to us, but no one else can hear or understand what we’re saying. If you promise not to kick us,” he glared at Tommy before continuing, “we’ll hang out for a while. Get your mom to get us some good food—no canned or dried cat food, it tastes craptastic and we’re used to the good stuff. Got it?”
“Yes,” Brinique breathed.
“Cool,” Davisa said.
“She’s not my mom,” Tommy grouched, his hands crossed over his chest belligerently.
“Does it matter?” Jango asked in a nonchalant voice. “I mean, you’re living here, she gets you food, gives you a roof over your head and keeps you safe.”
“She’s not gonna kee—”
“Here we are.” Alabama’s voice interrupted whatever it was that Tommy was going to say. “A nice big bowl of milk for the kitties.” She knelt and put it on the ground in front of the cats, and all three immediately took a step forward and started slurping up the cold liquid.
Alabama put out a hand and ran it over the head of the gray and white splotchy cat. “They’re cute. You guys doing all right out here?” She aimed the question at the kids.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Tommy scowled at Alabama. “We’re not babies. We can take care of ourselves.”
“I just worry about you,” Alabama said in a calm voice, seemingly not upset in the least at Tommy’s attitude.
“Worry about the babies, not me. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not a baby,” Brinique cried.
“Yeah, we’re not babies,” Davisa echoed.
“I know you’re older, Tommy,” Alabama told the boy, curling her arm around Davisa. “And you’re used to taking care of yourself. I feel better knowing you’re out here with the girls, helping keep an eye on them.”
“Mommy, he’s not eyeing us,” Brinique protested. “He’s been ignoring us and throwing rocks at us.”
“What have I told you about tattling, sweetheart?” Alabama asked her oldest daughter in an even voice. “It’s not a nice thing to do. And he might’ve been throwing rocks, but I saw you pick one up and throw it right back. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“Ha, gotcha there, little girl,” Fatty said, lifting his head from the bowl of milk and slurping noisily as he made sure he didn’t miss even a drop.
“Shut u
p, Fatty,” Brinique countered angrily.
“Oh, is that what you named him?” Alabama asked, obviously trying to stave off a tantrum.
“No. It’s his name. He told it to us,” Davisa told her mom. “And the speckled one is Jango, and the white and gray one is Boba.”
“Well, those are nice names,” Alabama said, smiling as she stood. “Ten more minutes then it’s time to come inside. I have a snack ready, then it’s homework time.”
The children and cats watched Alabama make her way back to the house.
The kids didn’t notice, but the cats were well aware that the woman sat at a table next to the large bay window overlooking the front yard. She didn’t read the book sitting in front of her, but kept her eyes on her children playing. Making sure they were safe.
“So, what’s the deal, Tommy? She seems like a nice woman to us. Believe me, we have known a really not nice mom. Our new witch’s mom was bad to the bone. She stole magic and sicced the honey badgers on our first witch, killing her.” Jango picked up the conversation he and Tommy were having before Alabama came outside.
“My mom died.”
“We know how you feel. It really stinks,” Fatty said, sitting back on his haunches, his enormous belly in front of him. “But then we got Zelda. I’m not saying we don’t miss our first witch, but Zelda is really nice and we’re glad to be hers now. Not only that, but she is hil-lar-ree-ous. Hildy was fun, but Zelda and Mac are a hoot to be around. Zelda’s not sure she wants to be Mac’s mate, but he doesn’t care. She’s his and he’s being patient with her…for now.”
Tommy didn’t answer, but he looked unsure for the first time.
Brinique sat cross-legged on the ground next to the boy and cats and said in a low voice, “Me and Davisa’s first mom wasn’t nice. She used to hit us and lock us in our room.”
“And she didn’t care when the scary men came into our room,” Davisa piped up, sitting really close to her sister.
Tommy whipped his head around and looked intensely at the two girls. “Scary men came into your room? Did they touch you too?”
“Once,” Brinique said in a soft voice. “He put his hand under my shirt and told me I was pretty. But that was all he did.” She didn’t realize that Boba had crawled into her lap and was purring as she ran her hand over his head.
“I don’t ’member,” Davisa said. “But Bri told me that a man grabbed my arm and held me still while he tried to take my shirt off.” Jango climbed into her lap, just as Boba had done with Brinique, insisting to be petted while the little girl spoke.
“What happened?” Tommy whispered, cuddling Fatty without seeming to know what he was doing.
Brinique shrugged. “Our mom yelled at us to get away from her friends. We hid in our room until they left. It wasn’t too much longer that the police came and got us and we came to live with our new mommy and Daddy Abe.”
“How do you know they aren’t going to do the same thing?” Tommy asked quietly.
“Daddy’s a SEAL,” Brinique said simply.
“A seal shifter? Cool,” Boba breathed. “I haven’t met one of those in a long time.”
“No, dummy, not a shifter,” Fatty rebuked. “A Navy SEAL. A special forces operative.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t hurt you,” Tommy insisted, squeezing Fatty harder and ignoring their side conversation. “Any man, or woman, can hurt anyone. He might be nice now, but he’ll change.”
“Mommy was like us,” Davisa said solemnly, shaking her head. “She told us once. Her mom used to lock her in a closet. She wasn’t allowed to talk. She didn’t get to eat much.”
Brinique picked up her sister’s story. “Only she didn’t get to be adopted by a nice mommy. She was beaten and starved and her mommy said mean things to her every day until she was old. When she married Daddy Abe, she wanted to help kids like us who had mean mommies and daddies.”
Everyone was quiet as Brinique’s words sunk in.
“Do you miss your mom? Your birth mom?” Tommy asked softly in a voice that was barely over a whisper, and one that the sisters hadn’t ever heard from him before.
“No,” Brinique said immediately.
“Uh-uh. Do you?” Davisa asked back.
Tommy nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. And I miss the dad I knew when she was alive.”
“We miss Hildy,” Boba said from Brinique’s lap. “She was our first witch. We love Zelda, and Mac, but we miss Hildy too. She made the best little fish cakes for us. She didn’t care that we hid them all over the house either. She simply laughed when one started smelling.”
Silence fell over the group for a moment, until Alabama called out from the front door, breaking the solemn mood. “Come on, kids, time to come inside.”
Tommy and the girls stood up, each still holding a cat in their arms. He turned to Alabama and tried to look as sad and pathetic as possible…even squeezing out a tear as he pleaded, “Can we keep them?”
He could tell Alabama wanted to say no. Remembering what Brinique and Davisa had said about the woman, and how she too had a mean mom, he did something he hadn’t done in years.
Asked nicely. “Please?”
“Okay. For now,” Alabama relented in a soft voice. “But we’ll have to see if we can’t find their owners. They obviously aren’t strays and are probably missed. If we had a pet and lost him, I know you guys would be really upset and want to find him…right?”
All three children nodded vigorously.
“They aren’t strays. They’re from Assjacket, West Virginia,” Davisa volunteered as they walked toward the front door.
“Davisa Powers! Language!” Alabama admonished in a not-very-harsh voice.
“What? That’s where they told us they were from!” the little girl protested.
“I don’t care. We do not use that kind of language in this house. Apologize.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Tommy tensed, waiting for the berating to continue, and was confused when Alabama merely leaned down and kissed the top of Davisa’s head. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re forgiven. Now, everyone, put down the cats and go wash your hands before snack time.”
The black ball of suffocating goo that had taken root inside him, ever since Tommy realized his father had taken money in return for letting the mean men go into his bedroom, shrank a size at Alabama’s words.
She’d brushed off the fact that Davisa had done something she wasn’t supposed to as if she honestly didn’t care anymore. All it had taken was an apology, and she’d turned back into the caring woman he’d observed since he’d been around her.
Tommy had learned to live with the awful feeling of the black ball inside him for so long, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be free of it.
He followed Brinique and Davisa into the house so he could wash his hands, refusing to think about what it all meant.
Fatty, Boba, and Jango stared up at the woman standing in the front hallway of the house as the children wandered off to wash up. She stood above them with her hands on her hips. “What am I going to do with you guys? I’m not opposed to pets, especially since you put the first smile I’ve seen on Tommy’s face since he’s been here…but I can’t bear to see them upset when we find your owners.”
“Don’t worry, Alabama…when the time is right, they’ll be ready to let us go,” Fatty told her with a grin. “We got this.”
All the woman heard was a meow and loud purring coming from deep within the cat as it looked up at her with what she would’ve sworn was a smile on its feline face.
3
“Wake up, Tommy,” Fatty said, batting the little boy’s cheek with his paw.
Tommy continued to whimper and thrash on the small bed.
Jango and Boba jumped up on the bed and used their paws to carefully knead his arm, gently waking him up.
“Wha? Where am I?” Tommy asked groggily.
“You’re safe at Alabama and Abe’s house,” Boba told him. “Remember?”
Tom
my groaned and turned onto his side and curled into a little ball, not speaking.
“What was your dream about?” Jango asked. “Once Zelda had a doozy of a dream. Of course, when a witch has a bad dream, crazy things happen.”
Tommy opened his eyes and asked, “Like what?”
“Let’s see…there was that one time when all the light bulbs in the house exploded at the same time,” Boba said evenly.
“Or when Mac woke up next to her in his wolf form and his fur was green,” Fatty chimed in.
“Oh, what about the time she muttered that spell in her sleep and we were all floating around until she woke up and reversed it?” Jango said, laughing.
Tommy sat up, wiping sleep from his eyes. “Did that really happen?”
“Of course,” Boba told him.
“There’s no such thing as witches.”
“Just like there’s no such thing as talking cats?” Fatty asked, rolling his eyes. “Look, kid. Just because you can’t see something or haven’t experienced something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist or can’t happen.”
Tommy, still looking freaked from whatever dream he’d had, asked, “Can you tell me more about your world?”
“You mean Assjacket, West Virginia? It’s your world too. It’s in the United States, just like California is,” Jango said, cleaning a paw as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You’re not supposed to say that word,” Tommy told him.
“Oh, sorry. Right. Anyway, okay, let’s see…so you know about Hildy, who was our witch before Zelda came. Well, all the animals in our world have special abilities.”
“Like talking?”
“Of course they can talk,” Jango said impatiently, waving a paw in the air. “But that’s not what I mean. Like Roger the rabbit is an empath, and Wanda the raccoon can calm people. DeeDee the deer can make people happy. Then there’s Bo.”
“What’s Bo?” Tommy asked, enthralled.
“You mean who. Bo is Wanda’s baby,” Jango told the little boy.
“A baby raccoon?”
“Well, yeah. Did you think Wanda would have a baby giraffe? Anyway, Bo is only four, but he’s gonna be alpha someday. That means he’s gonna be kinda like a king.”