I’ve been having a considerable lack of brain fuel lately, not to mention an increasingly solid wall that I’ve been head-butting into whenever I opened a word document.
Frankly, I’m fed up with it. So today, I decided to break through the wall, and come up with whatever rubbish my brain would produce.
So, without further ado, I present “The Black Cat.”
When I was a boy, walking down the groves of New Hampshire, there would always be a tiny black cat with glowing yellow eyes waiting for me at the end of Main Street.
I never stopped to observe it, being a simple child of ten. My interests were more clearly focused on the local candy shop, which was run by Benny, the stingiest man on the planet. Seeing how I was the best freeloader, we didn’t quite get along.
Now, back some time in the 1950s, there was a day where everything seemed a bit too strange. Like time had stopped, the galaxy stopped moving, and gravity shifted so that the law of physics didn’t apply anymore. It was a clear day, with the bluest sky I had ever, or will ever, seen. The green in the grass seemed sharper, the flowers brighter, and the trees simply reached for the heavens.
It was on this day that I was introduced to a remarkable black cat.
It was around noon when I strolled home from school for lunch, whistling and seeming to all the world a care-free child. But there was that uneasy prick in the back of my neck, the one that tells you, when things go far too well, there’s bound to be trouble in the end.
I reached that corner on Main Street, right by Benny’s Sweets, and leaned ever so slightly to catch a scent of that melted chocolate. And lo and behold, even Benny was in a good mood today. Good enough to tempt me to wander in.
The man looked straight up as I stepped in, all casual like, and his smile instantly flattened.
“Look boy, I don’t want any trouble from you today.”
It was a testimony to my childish foolishness that I scoffed at him in the most infuriating way possible. “Don’t worry, Benny. I’ve given away most of my trouble. I was going to save some for you, but as you don’t want it, I’ll have to give it to my brother, when I get home.”
Benny’s eyes narrowed, and the bubbling in the pot of chocolate grew louder.
“I wouldn’t mock me if I were you, boy.”
Now, being ten years old means several things. It means being old enough to know that adults are miserable in various ways, but too young to know that half the time, children are the source of that misery. Therefore, I proceeded to attempt to make him as miserable as I could.
A little too miserable.
“If you were me, Benny, then I would be you. And I were you, I’d give me candy. Because you never know what might happen in the future.”
At that moment, I should have run out of the shop. Across Benny’s face spun an incredibly nasty smile. My fear must have shown on my face, because that smile grew larger.
“That’s right, boy. You never know what might happen.”
The bubbling grew even more fierce.
I took a step back, deciding that this might not be the day to ridicule him farther. Unfortunately for me, I tread on the tail of a cat while leaving.
A black cat.
It proceeded to hiss and give me a nice scratch across the ankle. Howling in pain, I ran home, all carefree antics forgotten.
I’ve decided to end part one here. Hopefully, I’ll write more. If I don’t, then I’ve simply forgotten.