Cat-astrophic Spells

by Harper Lin

  “I think you should stay here,” I said to him in my mind. “You’re safer here than with me.” I walked over to him when he didn’t respond. “Treacle? Are you all right?” Stooping over, I felt the world spin again but picked the big furry ball up in my arms. He let out a little growl like he used to when he was a kitten and watching a bird hop near the windowsill… as if he were trying to coax it closer and closer until he could catch it.

  “Something is out there,” he thought to me.

  I held him close and looked out into the darkness. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. But whatever it is, it can’t get closer. It has a weakness, and it can’t get closer.”

  “Is it another cat?”

  “No. It’s what the cats see for.”

  I stood there, rocking the cat in my arms, letting the heat from his body soothe my aching belly. I strained to see some kind of movement, some ghoulish face, or a pair of eyes blinking back at me, but all I saw was darkness.

  “We will take care of him,” Peanut Butter said, wrapping his body around my leg and standing bravely at the door, looking out.

  “Yes, we have a plan of our own should anything find its way in,” Marshmallow said, prancing up to Peanut Butter and nudging him gently with her head.

  “Don’t you guys take any risks. If anything happens, run and hide,” I said to them.

  “Run and hide. Only after we teach whatever that is out there a lesson that you don’t mess with our family.” Peanut Butter quickly licked his front paw then resumed his vigil.

  I contemplated telling them about what Brit had said about this woman’s abusive treatment of cats. I don’t know what she could have done to get inside their heads, to control them so cruelly, as though they were replaceable tools to be thrown away when she was done with them. I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them. “This thing is dangerous. Just do me a favor, and don’t take any chances. Okay?”

  They all looked up at me and meowed in unison.

  Meteor Showers

  As I drove, I began to feel as though I really wanted to talk to someone about anything but witchcraft. It was late, but I wondered if Min was around. I decided to drive past his parent’s house and see if his car was in the driveway.

  As the familiar roads wound and weaved around, I let out a big sigh. My stomach was starting to feel better. I thought of a double cheeseburger and didn’t feel the need to pull over and gag.

  I knew Treacle was unhappy but safe for the time being. My blood boiled to think of that woman torturing cats. Even the alley cats had their own ways of doing things. Her treatment was cruel, like slave labor.

  So, this Jennifer person was a woman scorned, as if none of us had ever had our hearts broken before. I hated to admit it, but I thought of Min and Amalia. It would have been easier if she were a crackpot, but she wasn’t. She was probably more normal than me, and I consider myself a pretty down-to-earth person, with a few extra talents no one can ever know about.

  I was seriously starting to depress myself when I looked in my rearview mirror and noticed the guy behind me had his high beams on. “Jeez, thanks, pal. I don’t have a bad enough headache,” I grumbled, flipping the mirror to tint in an attempt to tone down the brightness.

  I turned off down a side street that was home to some of the wealthier people who lived in Wonder Falls. Darla lived in a mansion high up on a hill around there, but it was easy to avoid. I decided to do just that.

  These were homes for families. I wouldn’t know what to do with so much space, but it sure would be an awesome challenge to imagine. As I looked through some of the open windows, I saw beautifully decorated rooms painted in rich reds or browns. It seemed as if the people new exactly where to put everything to make it look beautiful.

  And speaking of beautiful, I wondered what Brit meant about Blake being the really good-looking detective. Jake had always been what most women thought of as a tall glass of water. I didn’t think anyone but me thought Blake was the better-looking one, not that I thought he was hot or anything. But he had some pleasing features I liked. If he would keep his mouth closed, he would be perfect. Maybe. What was I thinking? It certainly wasn’t the time or place to be considering the positive attributes of Blake Samberg.

  How were we ever going to get to Jennifer before she got to Brit, Bea, Aunt Astrid, and myself… and anyone else who looked at her cock-eyed? I wanted to just cruise along, but the guy driving behind me was in some kind of hurry, tailgating and weaving back and forth. I hit my hazard lights and pulled over to let him pass.

  “Leave five minutes early if you don’t want to be late,” I mumbled as I looked in the rearview mirror. The car pulled slowly around mine. It was dark outside, but as I looked at the driver, something very unsettling looked back at me.

  Suddenly, I felt like the locked car door and rolled-up window may not be enough protection for me. I could make out a silhouette by the glow of the streetlamps. It had long, wild hair, a grin like a starving animal, and white eyes. It was her. Jennifer Skala knew where I’d come from and was passing me slowly on the street. I could feel her evil presence like you’d smell garbage from the opening of an alley. You knew it was deep in there and that it was foul without getting anywhere near it.

  She drove past then suddenly hit the gas, speeding off just far enough to turn around. She flashed her lights and revved the engine. Was she seriously going to ram me?

  The thing about us witches is that we could be killed by regular, good old-fashioned car accidents, too. I couldn’t tell what this lunatic was thinking, but she was ready to push the envelope. She hit the gas, and her car burst to life, zooming straight for me.

  I put my arms up, unable to move quickly enough to do much more, and squeezed my eyes shut. Nothing… no shattering impact, no sound of crunching metal, no glass breaking. Letting out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding, I opened one eye and peeked around. I was alone on the street. Shifting quickly in my seat, I turned around.

  Maybe she’d passed me. Maybe at the last second, her car had swerved, and I’d see her taillights getting smaller and smaller as she drove away. But there were no red taillights. No other car was on the street. I was completely alone.

  “This is ridiculous,” I grumbled, putting the car in gear and pulling back onto the road.

  Min’s house was only a few blocks away. I hoped he was there and the lights were still on. It was almost eleven o’clock—a little late to be calling, but as I rounded the corner of his street, I was happy to see his car. In fact, I was really happy because he was standing right by his car… and so was Amalia.

  “Oh, geez,” I groaned. How was this going to look? “Hi, Min. I know it’s late, but I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you had a shoulder to lean on right now.” Yikes. That sounded like something out of a cheesy Lifetime movie about torrid affairs or deadly marriages.

  Min and Amalia both looked up at the same time and saw me. I flashed my lights as I pulled my car to the curb and cut the engine.

  “Cath! What a nice surprise!” Min smiled broadly.

  “Hey, Min,” I said as casually as I could. “Hi, Amalia. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Cath!” Amalia almost ran up to me. “No. My gosh, it’s so nice to see you. You know, Min and I were just hanging out here because he said there was a meteor shower tonight, but I could have sworn it was next week.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that. Sorry, Min, but the lady is correct. That is next week.” I had almost forgotten about the meteor shower coming up. If we didn’t get that lunatic Jennifer Skala in line before then, heaven only knew what she might do.

  When the heavens moved through their celestial routine, us witches would experience varying degrees of power. Sometimes, our powers were stronger than other times. Meteor showers were like spontaneous bursts of energy. They were fun and exciting, enhancing our gifts and sometimes enlightening us to a new power, temporary or permanent. It was
all up to the heavens.

  “Oh well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.” He smiled down at Amalia. “So, what are you doing around here at this hour, Cath? Not that we’d ever mind a visit from you any time day or night.”

  “I didn’t mean to break up your little stargazing party. Actually, I started to get a little dizzy as I was driving and thought I should pull over for a spell.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I didn’t have any reason to mention the witches’ vials at Brit’s place that made me sicker than a dog or the phantom driver, who tailgated me then proceeded to drive directly into my headlights only to disappear a split second before impact.

  “You do look a little pale, Cath,” Amalia said. Grabbing me by the wrist, she gave me a puzzled look. “My gosh, girl, your heart is pumping to beat the band. Come on and have a seat on the porch.”

  “I’ll get you some water.” Min dashed into the house.

  “I’m really all right. Just something I ate, I think.” That excuse worked before.

  “You know, you don’t want to be driving in traffic and feel the urge to puke, pardon my French. I had that happen to me once,” Amalia said in one quick breath of air. She pulled up a small cushioned ottoman and sat down next to me. “There was a twenty-four hour flu going around the Home. It had worked its way through every patient and every nurse on staff within two weeks. I was feeling good, thinking all the orange juice and exercise I was doing had my antibodies in better shape than the rest of them.”

  I watched Amalia as she told her story, polishing her nails on her chest as she spoke, then rolling her eyes and shaking her head in disgust as she continued.

  “I’m on my way home, traffic is moving but packed, and it hits me.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, completely engrossed in her tale.

  “Yup. I started to sweat, felt nauseated, and before I could put on my blinker to pull to the right, my whole dashboard… well, let’s just say, it wasn’t pretty.”

  I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh.

  “And if that isn’t bad enough, home was still twenty-five minutes away.”

  Then I was really chuckling.

  “The worst part is…”

  “You mean that wasn’t the worst part?” I laughed some more as Amalia started to laugh with me.

  “No. The worst part was that my car was in the shop. This was my sister’s car.”

  “Well, if you’re an optimist, then perhaps that was the best part,” I said, gasping for breath as I laughed.

  “I never thought of it like that. I was too busy feeling awful all these years when I should have been thrilled.”

  By the time Min came out with a glass of water garnished with a delicate slice of lemon, I was not only feeling a world of better, but I was still laughing with Amalia.

  A Thug

  I didn’t stay for very long, maybe a half an hour… forty-five minutes tops. Min and Amalia would never know how much good they did for me.

  I listened to them tell stories about their day, and Amalia was like an open book. The poor thing was more than happy to laugh at what seemed to be a never-ending series of unfortunate events.

  On her day off about three months ago, she managed to put gas in her car, drop off dry cleaning, and make it halfway through grocery shopping before someone told her that her skirt was tucked into her pantyhose. At work, one of the new residents had received flowers from her family, and when Amalia went to fill up a vase, she spilled all the water on her shirt. Nursing uniforms are quite sturdy, built to stand up to all kinds of spills, and hers was no different. Ironically, the uniform had multicolored cats all over it. When she got home and took off her shirt, the colors of the cats had transferred onto her skin.

  “I looked like I had Morgellons disease. All these goofy, multicolored lines all over me. It took over a week of near-scalding hot baths to get them off completely.”

  The way she told a story had me in stitches. I found myself liking her more and more. It wasn’t just because she was so willing to share her misfortune with a smile and such good nature, but I saw a lot of myself in her.

  She never talked about going out with girlfriends or partying or anything like that. She worked and kept to herself until Min came along… just as he’d done for me in high school.

  When I finally left, I felt good. For the first time in a couple of days, I felt like myself. A good night’s sleep in my own bed, knowing my cat and family were safe, was all I needed. But as I drove down the dark and deserted streets, I began to feel uneasy.

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought every couple of blocks, I saw the glowing eyes of felines peering out at me from the roadside, from around mailboxes, from side streets and alleyways. I scanned the roads for any other cars but saw none.

  Finally, I arrived at my house. I swear that the journey, which had only taken about ten minutes, felt like it had slowed down. I was shocked to see it was only a little after midnight. I had been sure it was at least two in the morning.

  Climbing out of my car, I listened and heard nothing. As I walked up the steps to my house, my footsteps echoed loudly. The key slipping into the lock sounded like an explosion against the quiet neighborhood. Again, I listened but heard nothing. Shrugging, I slipped inside, locked the door behind me, and let out my breath.

  Without Treacle, the house was very still. Just to be on the safe side, I checked all the windows and the back door and found everything to be locked up tight, just as I had left it.

  Even though Bea’s home was spacious and lovely and always smelled of a soothing spice or flower, I loved being in my own little house. Sage hung in the air, my crystals hung from the corners of the ceiling, and my clothes, notes, magazines, and books were scattered wherever I set them. Even the most skilled witch should appreciate her own sacred space.

  Letting the water heat up in my shower, I thought of Amalia’s story and began to chuckle again. The shower felt good and helped clear my mind. When I finally emerged, my fingers were prunes and my internal temperature was raised, so the cool air outside the bathroom felt invigorating. Slipping into flannel pajamas, I checked all the doors and windows again, left one light on in the living room, crawled into bed, and snapped off the light on the nightstand.

  Then it hit me. There was no sound outside. No sound of any kind. No crickets. No hum from the busy streets a couple of blocks down. There was no wind rustling the leaves.

  My eyes popped wide open, and I held my breath.

  “Meow-er-eow!”

  A layer of sweat instantly broke out all over me. Not wanting to look but feeling an invisible pull turn my head, I turned to the window and saw not just one but three sets of glowing eyes staring in at me from behind a tiny slit of open curtain.

  The cats banged and scratched viciously at the window with a feverish determination. What they would have done to me had they been able to get in, I don’t know. But I saw nothing in those glowing orbs that would make me think they were anything other than fully consumed by the beast that had chosen them to do her dirty work.

  I got out of bed carefully and looked at them. I tried to talk to them, to hear their thoughts, but I couldn’t. All I could hear was screaming.

  PING! PING! PING! The light, bouncy sound of my cell phone ringing made me jump and clutch my chest.

  I walked over to the phone, expecting it to be my aunt or Bea calling to tell me it was like a crazy cat lady’s dream come true at their house, with a couple of dozen felines howling and meowing in their yard.

  Instead, when I answered, I felt an ice-cold breath across the back of my neck.

  “Cath? Why do they call you that? You have half a name because you are just half a person. They all know that. Don’t you?” The voice on the other end of the phone was hypnotic. I began to tremble, but I couldn’t put the phone down. “I can see you.” Her sing-songy voice reminded me of the condescending way Darla used to insult me in high school, with her voice sounding kind, even though the words were anything but. “Did you like my
driving tonight? You looked like you did.”

  “What do you want?” I managed to squeak, angry with myself for not sounding tougher.

  “You know what I want. I want your cat.” She sounded frustrated. “You don’t even know what he’s capable of doing. You have no idea what kind of power he could radiate because you just want him as a pet. A companion because you don’t have a man.”

  “You can’t have him.”

  “Oh, says you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know, Cath, you might know who I am now, but you don’t know what I am.”

  “I know what you think you are. You think you’re some kind of witch. It takes a little more than black clothes and a bedazzled pentagram to make a witch.”

  The other end of the phone was quiet for a moment. I was hoping she was embarrassed over that tacky ring.

  “I’m not just a witch. Brit’s little trinkets won’t be able to stop me once I have the power of your black cat at my disposal. Don’t worry, once he’s mine he’ll probably forget all about you.”

  “It’ll be over my dead body before you get my cat,” I growled into the phone, wishing I could reach through the line and strangle her. Especially when she laughed at me.

  “That sounds about right. And the beautiful thing is I can do it. To you. To that old hippie. To the one married to that handsome detective who would inevitably need a shoulder to cry on… or more.”

  “You’re disgusting. You’re a slob. We’ve seen your work. You got lucky a couple of times, that’s it. Anyone could make a mess like you did. You’re a hack.” When I genuinely laughed at Jennifer, she said nothing. “I’ll tell you what, Jennifer, if you knew anything, you might have tried a love spell on Marvin to get him to notice your softer side. But see, you didn’t even have the smarts to do that. You just resort to violence. Like a thug. Like an ignorant thug.”