This week’s prompts are at the bottom. The words below are written for practice. Practice makes perfect.
Evander was an old orange tabby missing most of his right ear, thus the name. He usually took his meals courtesy of the widow, J’Lene. Ms J’Lene kept a small bowl of Friskies and a complimentary bowl of water on her back porch. She was the closest thing to a friend that Evander the cat had in this world; these days anyway, and she didn’t even know his name. She called him “Kitty.” How embarrassing was that?
It hadn’t always been that way though. He had vague recollections of a young girl way back in his mind, a girl who wore her hair in pigtails. She was a girl who would feed him and stroke his fur, a girl who would sometimes provide a bowl of warm milk, never too hot; always just right. Best of all, she was a girl who let him sleep in her bed at night and who could play with a piece of string most of the day.
One day she disappeared, up and gone. Evander never found out where she went or why. He had to find his own food after that. No one wanted to stroke his raggedy fur. Once in a blue moon, he might come across some warm milk, intended for someone else, but ready to be stolen by him. He slept rough; in trees or bushes. Open garage doors held promise for a safe place to sleep when he could find them, but nothing compared to his vague memories of that girl’s bed. Not only had it been warm and soft, but it had also smelled heavenly.
Those memories were dim and fading. Most of what Evander remembered was scrapping, fighting for his very survival. He remembered the occasional Molly, but they were few and far between. Mostly he remembered hunger, anger, hurt, and fear. He liked Ms J’Lene, but he didn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust anyone. Evander was a tough guy.
It was one evening, after stopping at Ms J’Lene’s for a quick bite when it happened. It was a cold, clear winter night in December when Evander, with a full belly, made his way downtown to see if he could scare up a Molly with romance on her mind. He went to the alley behind the Chinese restaurant on Centre Street first. He knew a lot of the gang liked to frequent the dumpster there. An observant cat could find bits of chicken, the occasional shrimp head and a lot of vegetables there on any given night, except Tuesday. “Canton Chinese” wasn’t open on Tuesdays.
He saw Oliver, Boots, Max, and Loki there. Max had scored what looked to be a fishtail but it was hard to be sure. He was being pretty protective of it. There weren’t any girls there either so Evander stayed only a short time; he liked these guys all right, but he had other things on his mind. He moved on.
There was nobody at “La Parilla Caliente.” Evander didn’t blame them. The scraps here were usually pretty spicy. The steak house attached to the hotel down by the freeway was where he found the Molly’s. Cleo was there with Roxie and Pumpkin. Evander was happy to see Pumpkin. She was a long-haired Orange, there musta been some Persian blood, and she was a babe. Usually, she would come around with a little bit of sweet talk, and she liked it when his breath carried a hint of fish. Tonight, though she was too busy to bother with thoughts of love. Evander thought maybe he shoulda fought Max for that tail. He hadn’t known he would see Pumpkin though, and he had eaten the Friskies at Ms J’Lene’s, so he hadn’t been all that hungry.
He moved on around the front of the hotel and that was where it happened. She was bigger now. Her hair wasn’t in pigtails. She was walking from a car in the lot to the front door. It was her. He recognized her scent right away. Memories of her bed swarmed him. He froze and watched her. He couldn’t help himself, he began to purr. When she stopped and turned he recognized her smile.
“Evander?” she spoke. She kept talking, following up with kind words that he couldn’t understand. Holding out her hand, she knelt, “Evander?” she asked again.
Could it be her?
Could he trust her? He hadn’t trusted anyone for such a long time.
He took a few steps back.
Why had she left him?
She scooted forward a couple of steps without standing, staying low.
Evander arched his back. It must be a trick! He hissed and turned and ran back to where he had left Cleo, Roxie and Pumpkin. He had to warn them.
This week’s prompts:
- let them go
- bandit cash