Cat Knight

I can understand animals.

The day my dad decided to take me on a trip to the wilderness, the stray cats downstairs were holding a meeting.

The poor kid. She has no idea her dad's getting remarried.

Worse, the new stepmom is pregnant and doesn't like her. They're planning to take her out to the middle of nowhere and leave her.

"We'll never get any more of her fishy treats. Let's have a little cry."

I already knew.

I just didn't let on.

I just gave them their fishy treats one last time, a thoughtful goodbye.

Suddenly, a little tabby I'd never seen before padded over and sniffed me.

"Human, you want a new dad?" it meowed. "Just say the word, and I'll bring him to you."

I bought my fishy treats with the lunch money I saved.

Two dollars a day.

Ten dollars a week.

Enough for a ten-pack of treats.

There were six strays living around our apartment building.

But Ginger wasn't one of them.

Ginger was my sister.

When I was three, Mom brought Ginger home. She smiled at me and said, "Annie, you're a big sister now. You have to take good care of Ginger."

Ginger just puffed up her fur and meowed indignantly. "I'm the sister! I'm the boss!"

Everyone loved Ginger at first.

But as soon as Mom got sick and passed away, Dad threw her out.

He hated Ginger.

He hated the way she shed.

He hated her for scratching people and clawing the sofa.

He hated her constant "meowing."

But Ginger wasn't just meowing.

She was talking.

She was saying, "I'm hungry."

"My water bowl is empty."

"I'm so bored, come play with me!"

Just like now. I was crouched down, feeding her. As she ate, she purred, "So yummy, so yummy!" and then asked, "Is your dad taking you on a trip? How long will you be gone?"

Patches, the little calico, swatted her. "It's not a trip, you dummy! He's ditching her! I heard him on the phone in the garage!"

Oreo, the black-and-white kitten, chimed in. "I heard it too! Her stepmom is pregnant, and they're planning to take her deep into the wilderness."

"Oh my gosh! Does that mean we'll never get treats from her again?"

"Let's have a little cry."

The cats erupted into a chorus of worried meows.

Only the tabby I'd never seen before walked over, circling me once before letting out a soft meow. "Human, you want a new dad? My dad needs a daughter. He's the best. If you want him, I'll bring him to you."

A new dad?

But

"I already have a dad."

When I got home, Jenna was there.

She and Dad were fighting again.

I stood outside the door, listening to her sobbing. "Just give me a straight answer. When are you getting rid of that kid? She talks to cats and dogs all day. Who knows if she's autistic or schizophrenic or something? I'm starting to show! If we don't have the wedding soon, what's our son going to think when he's born, having to live with a psycho?"

Jenna didn't like me.

She didn't like how quiet I was.

She didn't like that I couldn't say sweet, flattering things.

And she especially hated it when I went downstairs to feed Ginger.

She was always telling Dad there was something wrong with me.

That I was autistic.

That only schizophrenics claim they can understand animals.

At first, Dad didn't believe her.

But slowly, he started to resent me too.

He hated that I was so quiet.

He hated how slow I was, how I dawdled.

When money went missing from the house, he'd slap me without a second thought, forcing me to confess. "It's just you and Jenna in this house. If it wasn't you, was it her?"

He was never like this when Mom was alive.

I opened the door, and their conversation died instantly. Jenna choked back her tears and went into her room. Dad glanced at me but said nothing.

It wasn't until I had my shoes off and was opening my bedroom door that he finally spoke.

"Annie," he called out. "You've always wanted to see the great plains, haven't you? Your eighth birthday is the day after tomorrow I'll take you."

So it was true. He was going to leave me there.

A knot of sadness tightened in my chest.

But I didn't let on.

I just nodded softly.

"Okay."

Dad wouldn't let me leave the house anymore.

He kept me locked inside while he went out early every morning, telling anyone who would listen that he was taking me on a special trip, putting on a show of being a doting father.

"It's her birthday wish, you know? You have to make a kid's wish come true."

I didn't see it myself.

Ginger told me.

She was too scared to come near the apartment, afraid he'd hurt her. So she'd just call up from the darkness below my window late at night.

"Hey, kiddo! Hey!"

"Your dad's really gonna do it. He's gonna ditch you."

"Are you gonna run? You gotta run!"

Afraid Dad would hear, I couldn't shout back.

I just stuck my head out the window, shook it, and whispered, "I can't."

"Okay, got it."

She flicked her tail and vanished.

All the cats disappeared after that.

By the time Dad loaded me into the car on the day we were leaving, I hadn't seen any of them.

A part of me was sad.

Sad that I hadn't saved up for more treats.

Sad that I didn't spend a little more time with them that last day.

Sad that as the car pulled away from our building, the street behind us was completely empty.

I was so lost in my sadness that I didn't even hear Dad tell me to sit properly and close my eyes for a nap.

He got angry.

His voice suddenly sharp, he snapped, "Annie, I told you to sit still! How many times do I have to tell you to listen?"

His impatience was the same as when he forbade me from feeding Ginger, the same as when he demanded I suck up to Jenna.

I used to hesitate, taking forever to find the right placating words. "I know, Daddy."

But now, I didn't know what to say at all.

Just then, after passing through an intersection, the car sputtered with a loud thump-thump and rolled to a stop.

Dad's attention was diverted. He got out to check, muttering under his breath, "Damn it! The fuel tank's leaking."

He pulled a reflective triangle from the trunk, set it up behind the car, and started making a call.

The tow truck arrived quickly, hauling our car to the nearest repair shop.

I sat in the waiting room, listening to my dad. "How long will it take? It's my kid's birthday, and I promised her a road trip to the plains. Can we get it back today?"

The mechanic had arms covered in tattoos and a tough-looking face, but his smile was warm.

"Takin' the kid out, huh? Sure thing. I'll bump you to the front of the line. Looks like a busted connection pipe. An hour, maybe a little more, and you'll be on your way. Won't ruin your trip."

Dad agreed and told me not to wander off before stepping outside to call Jenna.

He didn't need to worry.

I wouldn't run.

Mom didn't have any family.

My grandparents didn't like me.

Even if I ran, I had nowhere to go.

But staying felt like I had nowhere to go either.

My eyes started to burn. I felt that familiar lump in my throat.

But Dad hated it when I cried.

Terrified he'd see, I quickly rubbed my eyes.

Just then, a piercing shriek cut through the air from outside the shop. It was Ginger.

"Annie! Annie!" she wailed. "It hurts, it hurts so bad! Come here! You have to come here!"

Ginger was hurt?

I shot to my feet. But when I stepped outside, I couldn't see her. I only saw my dad, standing a short distance away, still on the phone.

Ginger's cries were coming from the opposite direction.

Not wanting to bother Dad, I hesitated for a moment, then broke into a run toward the sound of her voice, turning into a narrow alley.

But Ginger wasn't in the alley. Only her voice, echoing off the walls.

The closer I got, the farther away her cries seemed.

No matter how fast I ran, she was always just ahead, calling to me. "Over here, come over here!"

Her voice grew more pained, more desperate.

My heart pounded. I ran for what felt like miles, crossing several streets until I finally spotted her beneath a large office building across an intersection.

But as I got closer, Ginger vanished.

And another cat leaped out.

It was the little tabby.

He clamped his teeth onto my pant leg and started pulling me toward the building's entrance.

Just then, a few people came out. One of them was a man in a sharp suit, but his shoulders were slumped and his face was a mask of misery.

When he saw the tabby, his eyes lit up.

With a loud sob, he rushed forward, dropping to his knees and scooping the cat into a tearful embrace.

"Rocky? Is that you? Oh, Rocky! Daddy missed you so much!"

The tabby, Rocky, didn't let go of my pants. He just gave the man's face a few impatient smacks with his paw while letting out a series of urgent, muffled meows.

"Dad! Stray human! Quick, before she's gone!"

Rocky's little paws made soft pat-pat sounds against the man's face, leaving faint red marks on his cheeks.

But the man didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he looked moved, nuzzling his face against the cat's head.

"Oh, yes, that's my Rocky. That's the right amount of force."

A small crowd was gathering. Someone gently cleared their throat to get his attention.

He finally opened his tear-filled eyes, wiped them, and noticed me for the first time.

"Where did this child come from?"

Someone pointed to my pant leg, still firmly in Rocky's mouth. "It looks like your cat brought her here. He's not letting go, and I don't see any parents around. Maybe you should take her upstairs and call the police."

The man let go of Rocky, but the cat just continued his muffled, insistent meows, tugging me toward the building. The man nodded. "Alright, let's go inside first."

Only then did Rocky release my pants, giving his dad's hair a rewarding lick. "Good dad," he purred. "So obedient."

I shouldn't have gone with them. I was so worried about Ginger.

But the words of protest got stuck in my throat. Before I could form a sentence, Rocky's dad had scooped him up with one arm and taken my hand with the other.

By the time I'd figured out what to say, I was already sitting in a big office.

"I I shouldn't"

"Hey there, little one. My name is Mr. Pierce. You can call me Sean. What's your name? Where are your parents?"

Mr. PierceSeanasked me gently.

When I didn't answer, he knelt down, his voice patient. "Do you remember where you live? What about a phone number? Do you remember your mom or dad's number?"

It had been so long since anyone had spoken so many words to me.

Ever since Jenna said I was sick six months ago, Dad stopped taking me to school. At home, Jenna barely spoke to me, and Dad didn't like it when I talked. If I said the wrong thing, he'd get angry. If I spoke too slowly, he'd get angry.

Soon, I stopped talking to anyone but the cats and dogs.

Worried I'd say the wrong thing now, I thought and thought, but before I could come up with an answer, Rocky started meowing for me.

"She doesn't have a mom. Her dad's bad."

"She doesn't have a home."

"No phone number."

"Dad, Cat is giving her to you. You be her dad now!"

Rocky rubbed against Sean's leg, answering for me.

Sean didn't understand, of course. He just scooped Rocky into his arms and started stroking his fur. "My Rocky is such a good, kind-hearted kitty. Don't you worry, we'll call the police right away and make sure this little girl gets home safe."

Rocky got so frustrated he started batting at him. "I told you, she has, no, home! She has no home! Old man! Take her, to our, house!"

But Sean just laughed, his eyes crinkling. "Hahaha, Rocky, Rocky! You really love your daddy, don't you?"

It seemed Rocky wasn't wrong. His dad really was nice.

A pang of envy went through me. My chest felt tight and sour.

I watched them for a long time, and finally, I gathered all my courage and spoke in a small voice.

"Can you not call the police?"

I knew what would happen.

If he called the police, they would take me home.

And then Dad would yell at me.

He'd yell at me for running off, for not listening.

Then Jenna would start crying, and he'd still end up taking me away.

Now that I'd already run away, it would save Dad a long drive. It was all the same in the end.

I I didn't want to be yelled at.

And I didn't want to be hit.

"I I don't want to go home."

I buried my face in my hands, my voice barely a whisper.

But Sean heard me.

He looked at Rocky, then back at me. The smile vanished from his face as understanding seemed to dawn on him.

He stood up and said something quietly to the man who had helped him earlier. Once the man left, Sean knelt in front of me again, placing Rocky in my lap.

"Can you watch Rocky for me for a little bit? Don't let him run off," he said softly. "I have something I need to take care of, and I can't look after him right now."

He was crouched so low I could see into his eyes without lifting my head.

His eyes were so kind. They seemed to hold a light in them.

I couldn't refuse.

Before I knew it, I had nodded.

"Okay."

He left, leaving me and Rocky alone in the big office.

Rocky licked the back of my hand. "My dad's nice, right?" he purred. "Ginger and I worked hard to get you here. Don't you go running off. Just stick with Cat and you'll be fine."

I froze for a second.

Tears welled in my eyes.

So Ginger was okay?

And the leak in Dad's fuel tank the cats did that?

All so I wouldn't be taken away?

The cats were so good to me.

But Mom always said not to be a bother to people.

Even though I couldn't stay

"Thank you, Rocky."

Rocky's fur bristled. "I'm not just some tabby! I'm a magnificent Bengal! Bengal!"

I nodded, hugging him tighter and wiping my blurry eyes.

"Ben-gal," I repeated.