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Scaredy Cat

I was very much almost drunk. Very nearly. I was sure I was pretty close to it, but there was no way I was gonna pay for another drink. So, I figured I'd ask my buddies for their best stories on the chance that might push me the rest of the way to drunk. It makes sense when you're very close to drunk.

Victor sat across from me. He was way over the drunk hump and to the point that every little sound around him was a work of absolute comedy. He chuckled through his stubble-speckled lips like an old smoker in a hacking fit. After he managed to drain his beer without giggling into it, I asked him for a story.

My question brought a fresh round of laughs from him. He slapped the table once and proclaimed, "Clean out! Notta one. Howbout Roy?" His hand landed on Roy, who sat beside him, with all the subtlety of an exploding depth charge. "Got any funny shtuff?"

Roy regarded Victor with a wobbling but focused gaze. He was clearly just as drunk as Victor, but he was the quiet type when drunk. He cradled the half-full shot glass in front of him with a protective, cupped hand. He sniffled a little. His laughs, when they came, were like strained hiccups leaking out.

"I got one, man. The lady with the world's scariest cat."

This time, Victor didn't laugh. He coughed and gave a little hiccup before noting, "That's a soberyup one. Donwant that."

I hadn't heard it before, so I encouraged him. Roy leaned to his right and glanced a few tables over into the distance. "You might get the story from 'er you'self."

I followed his eyes. Back a ways behind the active billiards tables and the flat-screen showing some basketball game, a woman I hadn't noticed before sat at a table by herself. And not only by herself. It seemed like everyone in the bar had given her a wide berth with several tables of clearance.

She had her head down. She was dressed nicely in a sleeveless, light-pink top which complimented her dense, red hair. It flowed over her neck like a tapestry of bright layers. Even the dim lights of the bar couldn't mute her locks.

I edged up from my seat, but Roy put a hand out. "You better hear my warning first…" He took a long swallow of his drink and glared at a dark spot on the table. All the other conversations in the bar and the general clatter seemed to mellow as Roy began.

"She's got a name. But I don't know anyone who's asked. Sometimes a guy who doesn't know better will approach her. They'll hit it off and leave together. Very few come back. They all tell about the cat. And things that shouldn't be spoken."

Roy raised his hands. "The cat lives with her. A strange beast. More phantasm than animal. With strange powers. Like a witch's cat. Magical. And horrifying. They say the lady is nice enough. But once you're near her, it's like the presence of the cat has its claws in you. Unspeakable doom follows…" He brought his hands down like a chopping blade.

I snorted. "That is definitely a sober-up story. Buzz-kill." I looked over at the red-haired woman. She seemed rather lonely.

An idea festered in my head until I mentioned it to Roy, "Alright, I'll go…and I'll get the real story. Not the bar legend. I'll go and see this supposed monster cat of hers and set the record straight. Would you put it to a bet?"

He leaned back and shook his head sternly. "No bet. Too dangerous." Victor joined in, "He's right…notta ba messed with."

I kept my gaze on the woman. "Alright. No bet. But I'll still do it. I'll show you all how a real man is." I rose from my seat and was away before they could say anything else.

The nearly-drunk in my system was definitely a big part of why I made it so far. The rest was a clear understanding of logic and reason. I freelance edited manuals, textbooks, and various other works for factual errors. I'd picked up enough to understand that this situation smacked of a silly urban legend.

The woman didn't look up as I stood by her table. I noticed from this close she was actually reading something set on it with small font. Probably a classic of literature. And she didn't have a drink on her table. That was enough of an opening.

"Let me buy you something. What would you like?"

My bladder actively protested from all I'd had so far. Not so bad I had to make a run for the restroom, but I did have to fidget where I stood. So far as the drink, I figured whatever respect points I got from my buddies would more than make up for the cost of another drink. Besides, it was for a pretty lady.

She didn't react to my question for several lingering moments. I could see a little sliver of her eyes scanning the page. Her lashes were full and dark. Her lips were a pale, light pink which matched her top. Below, I could see she wore a soft, khaki skirt which flowed under the table. Her chest was something to really appreciate, but I prodded my addled brain not to go there.

When she looked up, I could see her eyes were like strange stones. Not quite gray and not quite blue. But brilliant and immersive as they looked back at me.

Softly, with slight but clear words, she answered, "No. Thank you. I'm fine."

I persisted. "You mind if I sit? You seem lonely." I already made a move for the chair opposite her. She didn't offer any quick rejection. Her eyes just returned to the page she was on.

"I don't mind," was her answer. She turned the page with a narrow but plain hand. Her skin was pale, oddly so, but not so much that it seemed unnatural. There was still a pink tint about her cheeks.

I sat without much fuss and glanced around. A stillness had come over the bar. The players by the billiards weren't quite looking at me, but they'd stopped playing. I didn't bother to look behind me. I focused on the woman.

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"Would you mind if I asked your name?"

Her fingers touched the crease in the book.

"I don't mind," she repeated, before saying, "My name is Mara Elpis."

I could've stopped right there and sincerely told her that I had to run to the restroom and just never return. I would have had full bragging rights for a long time. And the lady in the story would at least have a name.

But I still had enough drunk in me to stay. I told her, "Mara is a lovely name." The last name I had no idea what to do with. I avoided mentioning that. She thanked me lightly, and her eyes lingered. Mara pressed her fingers across the page she was on and inquired frankly, "Are you here because of the stories everyone tells?"

I leaned back. "You could say that. My buddy told me you're some sort of witch with the world's most terrifying cat. I think it's all rubbish. You're just a regular person…and you don't deserve to be shunned like that." Even more boldness. I said the last bit loud enough so anyone eavesdropping could well hear me.

She watched me. I was quite proud of myself in a way that not even several more shots could've earned me. Mara closed her book and tucked it into a small purse she had hidden behind the table. I still didn't manage to catch the title.

"Would you like to know the truth?" Mara looked me right in the eye as she spoke. No menace or creepy theatricality in her voice. No dark feeling in her expression. She seemed like she really did want to set the record straight.

I nodded and laid my hands out. "Absolutely."

She slipped her purse around her shoulder. "Not here. Come with me." Mara stood and held her hand out. I rose as well, not even bothering to check out the looks of amazement from everyone else in the bar, and took her hand.

I felt pretty good right then. I was with a pretty lady who'd never been approached by anyone else because of some silly story.

Part of me had to wonder if the story was some sort of reverse psychology the guys all used because she was beyond amazing in bed and they didn't want their little secret to get out.

As we exited, everyone gave us plenty of space.

I didn't mind. I felt like a king.

We walked together down the narrow cobblestone road away from the bar. The train I would've taken home was back the other way, so I figured that meant she didn't live far from here.

I tried to strike up a conversation about how nice this part of town was. "You know, you don't see a style like this in the new areas. It's real classic."

She looked back once and didn't say anything, so I just whistled quietly to myself. Mara didn't seem to mind.

We eventually came to a narrow, four-story apartment with a few lights on. She unlocked the main door and gestured for me to enter.

A single bulb lit the front room. The tile was cracked and the apartment numbers to the side were faded. Despite that, I picked out the name "Mara Elpis" marked on 404. I felt like there was some sort of joke to point out about that number, but it didn't occur to me right then. So, I just grinned madly to myself as Mara called the elevator.

I rubbed at my face while the elevator played a peppy song which soon got lodged in my head. I coughed and questioned Mara, "Everything alright?"

She answered swiftly, "Everything is fine."

After the elevator, it was just another short flight of stairs till the eroded-white numbers of apartment 404. I brushed a finger across them, and a little fleck of paint slid away. Mara unlocked the door and encouraged me to enter first. The small hallway within was dimly lit with what couldn't be more than a single, forty-watt incandescent in a cube-shaped holder. I felt around for another switch as Mara moved past me quietly.

I sniffled a bit. A few racks of coats. No litter boxes or anything. I glanced around and figured Mara was just turning on some other lights. A small room to the right was quite dark, with only a little seeping glow from the street. I blinked a few times and felt around for a switch.

Nothing. I called to Mara, "I'm stumbling around in the dark here." She didn't answer. I groaned and started to put together what I figured was going on. But it meant shooting down my good-in-bed theory.

I suspected Mara was setting up some sort of sudden surprise to scare me off and further build up this myth she had going on. I couldn't quite figure out why, but people have their things they like to do.

I fumbled around till I found what was clearly the couch. It was soft enough, with that faux fur I'd seen from time to time. Seemed to be heated too. I leaned back and waited for whatever terrorizing plot to unravel so I could head home.

I called to Mara and announced, "I know what you're up to…so there's really no reason for all this."

No answer. My eyes hadn't adjusted, but I got a sense I was sitting in a small living room area with what had to be a TV. A pair of red lights for the VCR and cable box. They were situated just like eyes. Oh, I wonder if she planned this part… Scary red eyes! I couldn't remember if any cats even had red eyes. Maybe albinos? I snorted and went, "Boooga booga!" at the eyes. They didn't do anything.

And that was all that happened there in the dark. Till I heard the purring.

It came first as a slight vibration with very little noise. But it began to build. I looked to my right. It seemed to come from there. But no glittering cat eyes in the dark. Same with the slightly brighter left.

Then, the purring seemed to envelop me. I felt it underneath me. I rose and looked back. The couch was shifting, as though alive.

Fuck that!

I ran away and back to the door. Of course, the one, meager light was turned off. I fumbled around again, cursing to myself.

I said into the darkness and Mara, "You got a damn cat for a couch? Now that's fuckin' nuts!"