March 10th 2007

1

As she sat in the passenger seat of her mother’s car, pretty much the only thing in life Savannah Dominguez was looking forward to was seeing her cat. Instead of having fun for spring break, instead of going to the beach with all the other freshman in her dorm, Savannah decided to go back home. It had been six months since she had been back in Niceville, which meant it had been six months since she last saw Miss T, and as far as she was concerned that had been six months too long. College had not been the lifelong party she was promised, and now, more than ever, she needed to see Miss T. She didn’t want her mom, or her dad, or even the creature comforts that came with sleeping in her childhood bedroom. No, what Savannah needed most in the world was to cuddle up with Miss T and take a good long nap.

People always thought her cat’s name was Misty, and you wouldn’t be able to blame them for thinking it, when you say them out loud the names sound almost identical. But her name was not Misty, or Missy, or any other cHer name was short for Miss Trouble because she was always finding a way to cause it. Where Miss T was born they had no idea, one day she just showed up uprooting plants in the garden and leaving dead birds on the front lawn. Her father considered the cat to be a nuisance, hence the name Miss Trouble. Then one day, not too long after Miss T first showed up, her Dad got moved to a new assignment at work and they had to move to a new town, a place called Niceville Florida. After they got the house all packed up and the last of their things loaded on to the truck, sure enough there came Miss T, running down the driveway, strutting around like she owned the place. She hopped in the van and looked up at them, tilting her head to the side as if to say there is one thing your forgetting and it’s me.

A few failed attempts to shoo her out of the van later and her dad—who had been the main reason they had not adopted Miss T already—finally relented and let her come along. She had been a welcome addition to the family ever since. That was nine years ago, and since then Niceville had gone from a place that was foreign to the place she felt most at home, not in small part because Miss T.

Right now, though, she had to dodge questions from her mother about her nonexistent social life.

“You can at least tell me his name.” Her mother said from the driver’s seat. Her mother had picked up a whiff of her dating someone from school and had been hounding her ever since. Sheila Dominguez was a Florida woman through and through. Even though they moved here when she was a full-grown adult, the nine years they spent only minutes from the beach had turned her once pale skin a reddish tan that bordered on a perpetual sunburn. Savannah looked a lot like her mother, only her skin was a few shades lighter and she kept her hair short, just above her shoulder, with bangs parted down the middle. Her long face and high cheekbones made her look a few years older than she really was, which she was still trying to figure out whether that was a blessing or curse.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Savannah said. In truth, she wasn’t currently seeing anyone, at least not anymore. Not ever since she found out her boyfriend was texting another girls on the side. When she confronted him about it, all he said was “You’re the first girl I hooked up with since I got to college. I can’t settle for the first girl I meet.”

They had been dating since the third week of school, and it was a big reason why she didn’t come home during the holidays. The sad thing is she really liked him too, liked the way he made funny comments during movies, liked the way he smiled at her after a long day. She was damn near close to saying “I love you.” But thank God she didn’t. Her first kiss hadn’t amounted to much, neither had her first-time having sex, but she held out hope for her first I love you, held out hope that at least that would be special.

“You’re really not going to tell me his name?” her mother pleaded.

“I keep telling you there isn’t a name, mom. It’s not like that.” Savannah said in a voice two shades too whiny for her own liking. She cringed a bit at the sound of her voice.

“Okay fine. You don’t have to tell me. I guess I’m not cool enough to talk to my daughter about her life. I’m just the woman who raised you and everything. Not like I’m these cool new college kids.”

Now Savannah cringed at her mother too, maybe it ran in the family. It wasn’t even true either. She had spent so much time on her stupid relationship she hadn’t really made many friends. Sure, there were a few familiar faces from her classes, but it felt like everyone in her life at School was just so intangible. The moment she and Zack broke up, she was lonelier than ever; a stubborn reminder of a semester wasted in a time in what was supposed to be the best of her life. So far she’d give college a solid C-. Better than high school, but still mediocre at best.

They rounded turned off the main road and Savannah’s family home came into view. It was a typical flat Florida home. Two car garage, half of it filled with junk, and the other half a sticky minivan, only now that she was in college her mom had swapped the van for a sporty red convertible. By now her mom had given up on conversation and pulled into the garage without further questions. She helped her carry in some bags form the car and then she went up to her room to shower. Her dad was still at work, tonight he was working late, but tomorrow they were all going to the beach together.

As Savannah plopped her suitcase down next to her bed, she was greeted by a familiar Meow. Miss T. was curled up on her bed taking a nap, and when Savanna came in the room Miss T excitedly jumped up and rubbed her face along the side of her leg.

Anyone who says cats don’t miss you when you’re gone are liars.

Miss T was a black cat with coffee colored marbling. She had two big yellow eyes and a fluffy tail that was currently bent up in the shape of a question mark.

Savannah thought about getting into bed right then and there, certainly Miss T would not object, but she had been on a plane earlier, and everyone knows the airport is the center of the universe according to germs. She quickly went to the bathroom, showered, changed her clothes, and brushed her teeth for good measure. When she opened the door to the bathroom, she found Miss T waiting patiently by the door. She followed Savanah back to her bedroom and quickly hopped up on the bed and titled her little head to the side as if to say, “Are you ready now?”

She was ready now. She had been ready since the moment her mother picked her up from the airport, ready since the moment she caught her ex-boyfriend sending dirty messages to some bitch named Becky. She needed this, and so by the looks of it, so did Miss T.

Savannah got into bed, pulled the blanket up to her chest and patted it down into a nice kitty landing spot. Miss T blinked at her, hopped up on the bed, and sauntered over to her chest and started kneading the blanket and purring very loudly.

Savannah let out a deep breath, feeling a warm tingling on the back of her neck. She was finally home, finally comfortable, and finally she was with someone who wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with them. She pet Miss T behind the ear, and Miss T pushed her head back against her hand. After a few minutes of kneading Miss T proceeded to fall into a very deep, and very sound sleep. Savannah reached for the remote, doing so gently, in a way that would not disturb the cat’s slumber. It was a difficult maneuver but luckily she was able to pull it off, and she was able to put on an episode of Skins on MTV. She watched that for a few minutes, then after it ended, she flipped over to Nick at Nite and watched two episodes of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and halfway through the second episode she proceeded to join Miss T in the realm of the dreamer. Savanah woke up a few hours later to the intro theme song of George Lopez. Miss T lifted her head to see what was going on, just as Savanah rolled slightly over onto her side, which was enough for Miss T to wake up from her nap. Still tired from her flight, Savannah rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. For Miss T, however, the mood had been broken, and she sauntered over to the window where she stared out into the back yard through a slit she made in the blinds. Not satisfied with her view, or just more in the mood to annoy Savannah, Miss T started meowing. Savanna sat up and looked at her cat, who stared back at her and meowed again, this time more loudly. She probably wanted to go outside, but it was late, and their back yard bordered a small forest, which had bobcats and coyotes. This was no time for her to be outside digging up mom’s Oregano plants, or possibly worse.

“No Miss T, I can’t let you outside right now.” She said.

Miss T Meowed back at her, then she started pawing at the window. Savannah got up and looked out the window, saw nothing but freshly mowed grass and a patch of trees, then closed her blind and scooped up Miss T. She placed her back on the bed and patted the blankets again, but this time Miss T hopped off the bed and hopped back up onto the windowsill. She even started pawing at the blinds, scratching at the slits of wood.

“Get down from there!” she said, forcefully. It was enough to startle Miss T, who hopped off the window and decided to now paw at her closed bedroom door instead. A little betrayed, Savannah opened the door and let Miss T out, though she left it open a crack if she decided to come back once she had a chance to cool off after their argument about the window.

Sounds of George Lopez and laugh tracks emanated from her TV. She looked at the clock: 3:33am. She shut off the TV and put the remote back on her night stand. As she did that, and in the second after the static buzz of the TV shutting off faded, she heard a noise that she couldn’t explain. It was almost like the laugh track from the show, only this was a singular laugh, a single high-pitched squeal of what she thought was delight. And it sounded like it was coming from the back yard.

Scared, and more than a little curious, Savannah got up once again and peeked through the slits in her blinds. And once again, as she peered through the window, she saw nothing but her back yard. Thinking nothing more of it she got back into bed and lay down. Now she was awake, and a little creeped out, so she turned back on the episode of George Lopez. Not two seconds later she heard the noise again, this time louder, this time the laugh just half a pitch shriller.

This time she didn’t go over to the window. She pulled her blanket up to her chest and prayed she didn’t hear it again. She thought about turning up the George Lopez episode, maybe to drown it out, but then a second thought occurred to her. What about Miss T? What if she got out? What if she got out and whatever is making that noise, that horrible noise, somehow got her?

Savannah lifted herself out of bed and walked out of her room. The kitchen light was still on and she could see the shadow of the dining room table cast across the living room.

“Miss T” she cooed, holding out her hand. After a moment of no results, she resorted to bribery. Going over to the cabinet, she pulled out a box of Tasty Treats extra shrimp flavor, and shook the container like it was a summoners charm.

Still nothing.

Now she started to worry. She looked in every place she could think of—under the couch, on top of the refrigerator, any place a cat could be hiding. But she wasn’t there. Quickly, she shifted strategies, from bribery to checking exits. If she could confirm Miss T was still inside then she would at least have the peace of mind. Then she saw something that made her heart sink into her chest. The sliding glass door that lead to the back patio had been opened a crack, a hole wide enough for a cat slip their head through to get outside.

Savannah ran over to the door and went outside, making sure to close the door behind her in case Miss T was still inside. No longer afraid of whatever was out there she ran headfirst into the night in the defense of Miss T. But there was nothing out here. No Miss T, no horrible laughing crazy person, nothing but the sound of crickets and the wind. Savannah rushed passed the side of the house, and onto the street.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“Miss T!” she called, sucking her teeth in the way she did when she wanted to give Miss T a treat. The street was dead quiet, the sound of her voice echoed across the concrete which radiated back up all the heat it had gathered throughout the day. Lines of cars packed driveways and tall oak trees were planted along the small strip of grass between the sidewalk and the road.

There were a million and one places for a cat to hide in a place like this, especially a cat like Miss T who was always finding every nook and cranny to stick her wriggling paws into. Savannah rolled down the street, checking under cars, looking up in every tree. She turned off of Water Street and onto Seashell Court and as she looked down the street she saw the silhouette of a man in a green tracksuit. It was dark, with only the sporadic streetlight offering any guidance in terms of detail, and it wasn’t until the man walked into one of these spots of yellowy light that she truly get a glimpse of his face. Only he had no face. Where his eyes should be there were two smooth divots, like someone took an ice cream scooper to his face and patched it up with loose skin, his nose was completely missing, just an oblong cavern that lead to the center of his soul.

A bolt of fear shot from her stomach to her toes. As a young woman out on the street by herself late at night, seeing any man was alarming, but one with no face made her run for her life.

She ran all the way back to her house like she was an Olympic sprinter, hopping over bushes and electrical boxes like they were hurdles, refusing to look over her shoulder to see if he was chasing her. They always catch you when you look back, she thought. Don’t look back or he’s gonna get me. When she finally got home she was out of breath and bleeding in two places. In her panic she had run through some thorn bushes and gotten cuts on both her arms. Her hands shook as she tried to clean her wounds with the first aid kit in the guest bathroom, and that’s when her father came in to see what was going on.

“Is everything—” he stopped and looked at his daughter, noting the blood on her arms and the frantic look in her eye. “Oh god, you’re bleeding. What happened?”

Savannah looked at her father, thought about trying to explain the situation, and then broke down in tears.

2

Six blocks up the street from Savannah Dominguez’s house Miss T found herself in more trouble than she had ever been in before. The Black and mocha brown cat walked up the street now joined by two of her neighborhood rivals, both with owners and homes by the shine of their collar and the slight paunch in their belly. Usually, they would have been sworn enemies, but tonight there was a truce, an uneasy peace between them as they followed the smell.

At first it was a noise. A really interesting noise. Then once she was outside, she finally caught its scent. It was exquisite. It was divine. It called to her. Her eyes instantly dilated the moment it hit her nostrils. Whatever it was, somewhere, dinner was on the menu.

3

Six blocks further up the street Kelly Larken was heating up a bowl of soupy mashed potatoes. It was the kind of instant microwavable Country Crock mashed potatoes with garlic and chives that’s just good enough for you to not bother mashing up the real stuff. In the reflection of the microwave glass Kelly caught a glimpse of herself and winked back approvingly. Her green scrubs matched her green eyes, and a mole above her right cheek served as a sort of human punctuation mark.

The microwave beeped and she pulled out the mashed potatoes, stirred them up a bit, then brought them into the living room. In front of the TV was an old woman with a blank look in her eye, and in her lap was an orange and white cat that purred loudly as she pat its head. The Woman was named Rita Emerson. And the cat was named Oscar. This was a problem for two reasons. First is that Oscar was technically the neighbor’s cat. And Second, because Kelly’s employer (Rita’s younger brother Jonny), paid her a very sizable bonus to make sure that their household remained free of any feline squatters. It was apparently enough of a bonus that when Kelly saw the cat, she instantly grabbed a broom and shooed the cat out the front door with a frustrated string of curses. She did her best to keep up with her duty, but still somehow cats always found their way into the house.

When she came back inside Rita Emerson was glaring at the TV. Kelly plopped the bowl of mashed potatoes in front of her, sloshing some over the sides, but the old woman refused to eat it. Instead, she glared at the tv, with her one good hand balled into a tight fist. She clenched so tight, Kelly could see her fingers turning white.

“Be mad at me all you want. You know the rules. Your brother said we can get a dog if you want, but no cats!” Kelly immediately regretted her words, as Rita turned her caustic gaze from the TV over to her. The woman was mute, half deaf, and had limited use of the left side of her body, but that didn’t stop a shiver from running down Kelly’s spine as she stated back into those brown milky eyes. It was that exact fear that caused Kelly to lash out.

“Fine! If you don’t want to eat, then just take your pill, and go to bed!” Kelly went to the kitchen, grabbed a large blue pill, and slammed it down next to her mashed potatoes. There was a tense moment of silence that followed Kelly’s outburst, but eventually Rita relented and decided to eat the mashed potatoes in peace, leaving the pill for desert.

As she ate, Kelly sent a few text messages and played snake on her phone while C-Span droned on in the background. Twelve hours a day seven days a week, Rita Emerson watched the old people channels—which to Kelly was an amalgam of Fox News, CNN, and C-Span—really it was any channel that had twenty-four-hour nonstop news coverage. Though Rita didn’t watch those channels for the same reason as all the other early bird specials. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but Rita was practically American royalty. Her father was a war hero and an important figure in the creation of Eglin Air Force base. After the war, he helped oversee the development of the first drone programs to help America spy on the Russians. The Emerson’s had been a big part of Niceville ever since, and over time they became more and more involved in local politics. The oldest Emerson boy, became a State Senator, and the second oldest boy, did two terms as Governor and was nearly chose to be Reagan’s running mate before he had to drop out for health reasons. Kelly never knew any of this until she met the youngest of the Emerson bunch, a man named Johnny, fourth child of dear old dad, and the only one of the boys who joined the miliary instead of going in to politics. Jonny was 12 years younger than Rita and while Rita looked ancient, Jonny had kept his youth remarkably intact. He had a bleach white smile and a simmering tan. He kept his silvery hair was combed back and he always wore a button-down dress shirt with a power tie. Despite never having held political office, he looked like a prototype politician. Only now, after sixty years of staying out of it, Jonny had decided to run for Governor, to follow in the footsteps of his older brother. Which meant that a few times a week Rita could catch a glimpse of her long-lost baby brother on TV.

Tonight, however, none of the usual channels were bearing fruit. Rita took another spoonful of mash potato and flipped the channel to the local news. Lucky for her the local news had just the thing she was looking for. Jonny Emerson’s canned smile was plastered in the top right of a news story titled “Jonny America Comes Home.” Which was a piece covering the upcoming Town Hall that Johnny was holding at the local community college as a part of his campaign.

“Johnny America, ha!” Kelly scoffed.

The more Johnny’s campaign went on, the more the news came up with stupid nicknames and taglines to describe the piece of shit. To the outside world Johnny was a Green Beret, Vietnam veteran, and high school football legend. He was Jonny America, Jonny Freedom, Johnny Lay down my flag and make them into pajamas, God bless America. But to Kelly he was Jonny always tried to cop a feel every time he came around to pay her. Here’s one, how ‘bout Jonny won’t even come inside to check on his terminal older sister. Instead, he paid Kelly, a part time nursing student, seventy-five thousand dollars a year just to feed an old lady mashed potatoes and clean her shit. And he didn’t even have the decency to come visit.

Kelly scoffed at the stupid way the local news was fluffing up the old pervert, and on this she and Rita seemed to finally agree.

As the news ran the story on old Jonny Flag kisser, Rita sat forward and glared at the TV. Something about the story must have upset her because she started to make a low gurgling noise in the back of her throat.

Woah. That was new. Six months of watching Ms. Emerson and she had never made a noise like that before, and now that Kelly thought about it, she had never made a noise at all. Until now, she assumed that her vocal chords had wasted away with disuse.

“Okay Ms. Emerson. That’s enough TV. Time to go to sleep now.”

Kelly got up to turn off the TV, but Rita reached for the remote and held it close to her chest. Kelly snarled at her, threw up her hands, and decided to let her watch the TV, afraid of her reaction if she took that away too. Wasn’t kicking Oscar out bad enough?

The report detailed a spring break town hall being held by Jonny at the civic center. He wanted to make a statement on underage drinking and crime. Spring breakers were a big pain point for the folks of Niceville, and they cared about things like town halls and being tough on crime. In his bid to be governor it was a good move, to Kelly, however it was bit of an insult.

“I didn’t know your brother was coming to town. Did you?” Kelly asked the question in vein, not expecting an answer. Much to her dismay however, she got one, and it came in the form of a low growling noise from Rita.

The whole thing made Kelly feel sick to her stomach, so she went to the kitchen, found a bottle of white zinfandel, popped the cork, and drank directly from the bottle. Much better.

She plopped back down on the couch and pulled out her phone and checked her text messages. A few of her friends were going out tonight, and she really wanted to go, but she had to wait for the old lady to go to bed first. Usually, she took her pill and was out by 7:30, but here it was 8pm and the woman was still hyper focused on the TV, and growling like a wild animal.

Kelly took another sip of wine, hoping she could just wait her out. By 9pm half the bottle was gone and Kelly had gotten up to pee three times. Each time when she came back she hoped that Rita would be ready for bed, but each time she tried to take her to bed, she clammed up at her again. Seeing her brother on TV had really riled her up something fierce and nothing seemed to be able to calm her down.

Exhausted, a little tipsy, Kelly took another swig of the wine and settled back on the couch.

“If you want to stay up late, can we at least watch something more interesting than the news? Let’s watch a movie or something.”

Rita broke her staring contest with the TV and looked at Kelly. She held up the remote and tilted her head to the side. For the first time since she had been living here, Kelly saw a light in her eyes that she never saw before, for the first time she saw what she thought was the real Rita Emerson. Rita regarded her for a moment, her eyes doing some sort of internal calculating, then she smiled, baring her yellowed teeth at Kelly, and tossed the remote into the hallway.

“Hey! That’s not nice.” Kelly yelled. She hopped off the couch and went to go fetch the remote. The moment she turned the corner she heard a noise come from the living room. She rushed back with the remote held out in a threatening posture. She saw Rita Emerson standing by the sliding glass door, which led to the backyard. Her good hand was resting on the wooden handle, ready to pull it open.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” She asked, trying to sound the way her mom did when she caught her sneaking out. Underneath that she was scared. How did she get up so fast? What had gotten into her?

Rita smiled at her again and opened the door. Oscar the cat popped back into the living room with an appreciative meow.

Kelly started towards her broom, but before she got there dozens of cats streamed into the living room behind Oscar, mewing, and hopping over each other as they poured through the crack in the sliding door. Many of the cats looked like strays, but some had collars around their neck. Kelly saw Oscar doing circles around Ms. Emerson’s legs, nuzzling his head against her nightgown, as more and more cats crammed in through the slit in the door.

“What the fu—” Kelly struggled to talk. Suddenly her jaw felt like it was attached by a thread. Her arms felt heavy too. In a panic she looked at snack table hoping to see the sleeping pill safe and sound, but instead she saw only the black painted woo where it once rested. She looked back over to her wine and used her last two brain cells to piece two and two together.

“You bitch. You drugged me.” She got the words out this time. Fighting back against the sudden onset of drowsiness.

More cats streamed into the house. Rita turned and smiled down at her, and then she did the one thing that terrified Kelly more than anything. Rita Emerson spoke. She didn’t speak in full sentences; no, she spoke in riddles. In a voice that was surprisingly youthful, almost childlike in its softness.

“10…9…8… Father.”

Kelly slumped over, as cats crowed up against her. Some of them swatted at her with their claws, other nipped at her ankles and legs.

Kelly pushed them back, stumbling towards the bedroom, her limbs feeling like they were same consistency as mushy mashed potatoes.

Rita followed her, continuing her count down.

“7…6…5…hallowed be thy name.”

The horde of cats grew progressively more hostile, scratching and biting and making a low growling noises that sounded a lot like the one Rita made earlier, all the while the woman kept babbling incoherently.

“4…3...2… Forgive us…1. Hallow. Hallow.”

Kelly used her last bit of strength to curl up into a ball, as she was torn to shreds.

Piece by piece. Bit by bit.

Dinner was on the menu.