I straightened, the feel of the cat’s stiff whiskers lingering on my hand. I rubbed the tickling sensation away. “I thought it was a her.” I hadn’t seen any obvious evidence ofhimness.
“Oh.” Susan made a snipping motion with her fingers. “Can’t havemorecats, you know?”
Ah. Poor little guy. I think I did know.
“He’s yours,” Susan said.
I blinked. “What?”
“He chose you. That much is clear.” She nodded toward the cat at my feet. “Plus, he’s gray, white, and black. All mixed up—just like you wanted.”
Anxiety shot through me. I hadn’t had a clue what she’d been talking about. “I’m not equipped for a cat.”
“Not to worry.” Susan flitted around her living room before coming back to me with a small metallic tray—kind of cat-sized—and a bag of sand.
“The litter renews itself,” she announced. “Very handy. Only needs refreshing once a year or so.”
She shoved everything at me, clearly intending for me to take it. I removed the remaining four books from my bag, set them on the nearby table, and then slipped the tray and litter inside my carrier in their place.
Crap, that was heavy. It seemed I had a cat.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
Susan glanced around her wonderfully disorderly, cat-strewn home. “I don’t really name them anymore. Too many.” She scooped up one of the big, furry, orange ones. It was four times the size of my new companion. “If I want them to come, I say,Here, kitty, kitty, and if I want them to listen, I say,Hey, you!”
In a timely demonstration, she called out, “Hey, you! Get off the table!” and a slinky black cat jumped down with a light thud from apparently the one piece of furniture on which they weren’t allowed.
Susan shook her head. “The paw prints they leave all over that glass top…” She turned back to me, smiling warmly despite the wry resignation in her voice. “I may not like to conform, but I do like a clean place to eat.”
I nodded in agreement. I was enthralled, fascinated, and somehow completely at home, even with all the unfamiliar cats.
“Would you like some tea?” Susan asked.
I wished I could stay, but I still had clothes to buy, and I didn’t want to be gone so long that the crew started to worry about me. I kept both explanations to myself and politely declined.
“Maybe next time, then.” Susan made it feel like a real invitation, one she genuinely meant.
“Thank you.” I’d be back in two days. Maybe I’d take her up on the offer then.
She glanced at my new cat. “You can name him, though.”
My eyes widened. What did you name a cat? “Um…”
She shook her head, making her sunburst hair move. “No, ‘Um’ is too vague. It won’t work.”
It took a second for understanding to sink in, but once it did, I burst out laughing, startlingNot-Um into a low crouch. He looked at me a little warily for the first time, his black-tipped ears flattening back.
So, no startling noises for my cat. He was going to love a high-speed, shoot-’em-up, jump-around space chase, for sure.
“I think I’ll name him Bonk,” I finally decided, tilting my head to look at him.
“Bonk?” she asked.
“He spent five minutes bonking his head against my ankles.” And now he was doing it again, bumping and rubbing like my legs were the best things around. “What’s thatWon his forehead?” I asked.
“People usually see that as anM. Most tabbies have it.”
I swiveled to see him from the front instead of from above. “I was looking at him the wrong way, I guess.”
