A Recollection of Ideas: A Series of One Shots

“Scar?”

No answer.

“SCAR?”

No answer.

“SCAR!” I whistled out again. Still no response. I wandered around my grassy backyard, wading in the oceans of tall grass stalks, trying to search for my marbled little ball of fuzz.

I checked out behind the grill and under the table on my back porch. Still nothing. Scar was an outdoor cat, but by outdoor, I meant she liked to hang on the back patio table and on the hammock when I was out reading my book. Otherwise, she stayed inside.

Up until this point in the five years I had her, she had never wandered further than the back patio, but now, she seemed to be gone. I hesitated and waited for a little jingle to signal she was nearby. I had attached a bell to her collar, but she was still stealthy.

“TREAT!” I yelled, a desperate attempt to see if she was still around.

I turned as I saw movement. A small marble coated cat bounded from my neighbor’s backyard and came trotting towards me. She nuzzled up against my hand as a little sigh of relief escaped my parted lips.

“Meowww….” She purred under my gentle affection. Scooping her up, I tucked my cat under my arms and went inside to fetch a small bowl of vanilla ice cream. She had a fondness for ice cream, but of course, I didn’t give her much. Barely a spoonful.

Cats like ice cream. So do people.

“You pesky little rebel. What am I going to do with you? You went into Mr. Ashby’s backyard.” I sighed and set her down in front of the light green bowl. Scar didn’t seem too peeved. I made another glance out to my neighbor’s backyard.

The last time we talked was about four months ago, when he came to tell me that the mailman had mixed up our mail…again. We don’t talk often. He isn’t home all the time. I introduced myself when he first moved in, but besides that, we hadn’t had an actual conversation since the two years he’s lived on the street. I think his name is Alan, but I can’t remember. It’s been too long. He’s supposed to be this fantastic guitarist for an amazing band or something, but I hadn’t heard of them. I’ll stick to my radio rock, thank you very much.

I tucked a strand of brown hair behind my ear as I removed the now finished ice cream bowl. Scar trotted off to the couch to take a lazy afternoon nap. I followed her into my reading room, grabbing a book off the shelf and picking up where I left off. I had a day off work from my job at the local guitar store so I had a chance to finish up on this Jack Reacher novel.

Scar purred lazily behind me.
**
Two months later…

Scar had been acting weird lately.

She’s been a little crankier than usual, likes to hide in the back office where her litter box and cat bed is, she sleeps more often than not, and when she seems bloated, or had gained a lot of weight.

Can cats have periods?

Today, I was driving to the vet to have her checked out. She seemed perfectly content in the dark cat carrier, but she was not happy when I had to get her in it.

I walked into the office, sitting down on one of the chairs. A lady with her sickly looking pug was reading a magazine with some tall, tattooed guy with roman numerals on his collarbone. The name of the magazine was Revolver. Um, was that a band shirt she was wearing? Of Mice and Men? Seems familiar, isn’t it a book?

The pug stood up, waddling over to the cat carrier. I just looked down at it as the pug sniffed the carrier, sneezed, and then waddled back to its owner who looked up and opened her mouth to apologize.

“Oh, Jake! Stop sniffing around other people’s stuff! I’m so sorry about that!” She said. I waved my hands as the vet called my name.

“No worries. Cute dog, by the way.”

“Thanks!” She smiled and went back to reading her magazine as I went into the vet’s office. The lady pulled my cranky cat out of the carrier. Scar just lay down, her tail twitching slowly as the vet cocked her head to the side a little.

“Is something wrong with her?” The vet asked me. I stroked Scar’s fur.

“Well, she’s been acting up and being kind of cranky lately. She likes to hide away in the dark office room where we have her stuff. Oh, and it looks like she’s gained some weight.” I added. The vet gently pushed on Scar’s belly, to have no reaction from the cat.

“Did you take her in for her one month?” The vet asked me. I stood there for a moment.

“One month?”

“Yeah, did you take her in?”

“Um, no? What’s a one month checkup? I thought it was supposed to be once a year.” I said slowly. The vet’s mouth formed a neat little ‘o’ before realizing that I wasn’t actually playing dumb and I had no clue what she meant.

“Your cat is pregnant.”

“What?” I restrained myself from screaming out loud. This couldn’t be possible! My cat didn’t go outside! And when she did, it was just to lie on the table! This couldn’t be possible!

“Scar couldn’t be pregnant! There’s no cats on our street! Or at least, there’s no outdoor cats in our neighborhood!” I cried out. The vet shook her head, examining my pet further. She finally responded after a moment of contemplation, “There’s no doubt about it. Your cat is due very soon. Cats have a gestation period of about sixty six days, so around two months ago was when she was impregnated.” The vet raised her hands in defense as I just stared down at Scar, her two eyes peering back at me. A soft sound escaped her as I stroked behind her ears.

“Well…what should I do?” I asked. The vet gently encouraged my cat back into the carrier, handing it to me.

“Not much. Just leave her alone for the next week and she should be fine. Scar is a very healthy cat, and if you can, try to find the cat that might be hanging around your neighborhood, a stray perhaps. If you can find it, bring it in or get the health records so that we can see if there will be any defects or diseases with your newborn kittens.” The vet suggested. I thanked her weakly and walked out of the office, not quite comprehending what had just happened.

When I arrived back at home, I let Scar out into her dark little room, keeping the door cracked in case she wanted to come out at any point.

Let’s see. There are a total of three owners that have cats that I know of. The Johnsons, Ms. Simons, and Nadia down the street. Nadia’s was an old female Persian cat, so that wasn’t possible. The Johnsons had a new kitten named Jacky, but not old enough to be Scar’s ‘friend with benefits’. No, it had to be Ms. Simons cat, Billie. Billie was old enough to be the father, so perhaps it’s hers!

I left the house, shoving my hands in my coat pockets. I passed by Mr. Ashby’s house, looking at the door. The lights were off and it looked like no one was at home. He might be at work again.

I passed his home and went to the house next door. Going up the pavement steps, I knocked gently at the wooden red door. There were some shuffled footsteps and bolt sliding back before the door opened.

“Oh, it’s you, Kalista! How are you doing, sweetie?” The old lady asked. I smiled kindly at her.

“Oh, I’m fine, Ms. Simons. I actually have a little question about Billie.” I asked her, watching as her smile turned to a frown.

“What about him?”

“My cat, Scar, is pregnant and I don’t know which cat was her partner, and I need to find out to make sure the kittens won’t carry any disease or disorders. Since there aren’t any strays around here, and Scar is the only outdoor cat on the street, I think someone’s cat might have gotten out by accident.” I said politely. How do you tell someone that their cat…did things…with mine?

Ms. Simons shook her head, a feeble smile coming across her face. “It can’t possibly be Billie. He died three months ago.” She said softly. My breath caught in my throat.

“Oh, I, I’m um, I’m so sorry about Billie!” I apologized profusely. She shook her head.

“It’s fine, dear. Good luck on your search!” She bid me farewell and closed the door, leaving me wondering if my cat was the next Virgin Mary.

**
A week later….

“Mittens! Mittens! Oh, where are you, Mittens!” A voice was calling outside my window. It had been a couple days since the kittens had been born, and it was non-stop chaos around the house.

Scar was doing well with her babies considering she’s a first time mother, but I had to step in and make sure they were all getting fed the right stuff. There were four kittens total, two marbled like her, one was white and black, and the other was mostly black with a little white on the stomach and on the paws, like little socks.

I liked calling her Socks.

They were all females, surprisingly enough. All were healthy, or so they seemed from the outside. Socks was a bit of a runt, but she managed to make her own and not be bullied around by the others.

“MITTENS!” The yelling grew. I sighed and got up. Some guy was very anxious to discover where his lost clothing articles had gone to. I walked out my front door, seeing a red headed man go through his bushes, peering around the corners of his house.

Oh, Mr. Ashby was home today.

I stood in my driveway, hands on my hips, just staring at the man. He had to be as old as I was, maybe a year on me. I was debating on just going inside and checking on Scar, but I was very entertained by this man and his search for a pair of mittens.

I turned around after he disappeared to the back of his house. Getting myself a cup of tea, I went to sit on my back porch, staring at the clouds overhead. They were very nice today, weren’t they?

“Oh, hello there! Your name is Kalista, right?” A voice appeared as Mr. Ashby standing in his backyard waved over to me. I got up and approached him. A cement driveway separated our backyards. The drive led to a couple of houses behind our own.

“Yeah, you’re Alan, right? I remember from the mail mix ups.” I asked. Alan nodded worriedly.

“Have you seen my cat, Mittens? He’s wandered away and I’m terribly worried. Mittens has only left the house once, but he came back. I don’t know where he is this time.” Alan asked me curiously. I paused for a moment.

“You have a cat?”

“Um, yes, I do.”

“How long have you had this cat?”

“Since I moved in, actually. Why?” He paused for a moment. I bit my lip.

“And when did your cat escape the house last?”

“Well, let’s see. It had to be about two months ago or so. Nine weeks, maybe?” He asked. I nearly dropped my tea.

Could it be?

“I haven’t seen Mittens, but perhaps you would like to see my kittens?” I asked. Alan nodded excitedly.

“Oh please!”

And so I led him into my house. Setting my tea mug down on the counter, I led him along the hallways and to the office. The door was opened slightly.

“How old are they?” Alan asked softly.

“A few days.” I responded and led him in. We both froze at the sight. Not because there were four cute little bundles of blind fur lay next to my cat, and not because of my cat itself.

We froze when we saw another cat laying down next to Scar.

“Mittens?” Alan asked slowly. The cat let out a lengthy yawn in response. He moved slowly over to his own pet, who rubbed against his hand affectionately. The cat butted his arm before going to lay down with my own cat again.

I turned to my neighbor, a mix of emotions running through my head. “Um, two months ago or so, my cat was impregnated. Mittens is the father.” I pointed to the little brood of cats. Alan’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to let him out of my sight and I’m so sorry that this happened and oh no, I can’t believe that your cat had my cat’s kittens and what are we going to do!?” He cried out in disbelief, his mouth just dropped open. I bit my lip, thinking.

“Don’t get me wrong-I love cats and I love kittens but they are a lot of work. And it looks like Mittens wants to be a good dad and stay around.” I pointed to the two purring companions. Alan’s shoulders slumped.

“You can have my cat if you want. It’s only fair.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. I shook my head.

“Oh no thanks. Mittens is yours and I can barely take care of five of them, let alone six.” I held up my hands in defense. Alan just stared down at the little kittens, their eyes not even open.

“Well, do you want any help? We can raise the cat family together.” He offered. I laughed at his adorably hopeful expression. I sat down in front of the little ones, Alan following my moves. He reached over and gently stroked Sock’s head, her mouth opening in complaint.

“That would be…really helpful. Thank you.” I turned to him, a small grin spreading wider. He nodded.

“It’s the least I could do.” He responded quietly. Scar looked up to me, purring softly as I reached over and stroked her head. Alan got up, offering a hand to help me up. I took it and he pulled me to my feet.

We walked back towards my living room. He turned to me, asking, “Kalista, can I take you to dinner? Again, I’d just like to say sorry for all this hassle and unintentionally bringing some extra work on you.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, his amber eyes looking at me apologetically. I melted a little on the inside.

“It sounds lovely to get away from the house for a little while, but I have to take care of the cats.” I said. His eyes fell a little before he perked back up.

“Let me at least make you dinner and bring it over so we can eat here and watch over the cats.” He offered. I didn’t have to think about it long before I nodded.

“Sounds relaxing! I’ll get a movie and we can do dinner and a movie in home.” I laughed. He chuckled back.

“That’s a plan. I’ll be back here around seven or so.” He walked out the door, waving to me as he went over to his house. I grinned. A plan, then.

When Alan came back over to my house, the doorbell rang and I was just sorting through all the movies that we had. The best one that I could find was the newest Fast and Furious. I grabbed that one and threw it in the DVD player, hoping he would be fine with that movie.

The doorbell rang and I went to go get it. Alan stood there, in his arms a big bowl of something pasta looking. I couldn’t help but smile when I smelled the delicious odors wafting from the bowl.

“How are they?” He asked. I shrugged. “No different than before. Sleeping for the most part.”

“Good! What movie are we watching tonight?” He asked. I bit my lip.

“The newest Fast and Furious. It was the best one I could find. One of my friends raided my movie cabinet a couple weeks ago and hasn’t returned them, so that’s the best I got.” I offered hesitantly. Alan opened my cabinet, taking out bowls and scooping the food into them. I took mine and thanked him.

“Sounds good to me. Oh, you’re not gluten free are you?” Alan questioned carefully. I shook my head.

“I’m fine. It smells delicious, by the way.” I grinned. He laughed.

“Good, now let’s watch that movie!”

Halfway through the film, I had cleaned up our bowls and returned to sit down next to Alan. We both were on the middle of the couch, side by side despite the abundance of space on the piece of furniture. I couldn’t help but smile a little as I snuck a peek at Alan. His eyes were half lidded, sleepily fighting to stay awake. His arm wrapped around the back of the couch just behind my head. I yawned a little as I returned to watching the film.

As the credits started to roll, Alan’s head drooped down and nudged against my shoulder. I smiled a little and heard him snore softly, his breathing evening out. Trying not to disturb him, I reached forwards and snagged the remote, quickly turning the TV off, leaving the room dark.

“Is it over?” I heard him mumbled, his head looking back up.

“Yeah, it just finished.” I whispered. He stretched his arms out, but remained sitting. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to decide what to do. Did I want him to stay here with me, maybe overnight? Did I really like him that way? What should I do?

“Let’s sleep.” He mumbled, half-awake.

“What, Alan?” I asked.

“Sleep.” He yawned and curled up on the couch pillows. I just kind of stared at him in the darkness. Was he okay?

“Um, I can get you a blanket and you can stay here overnight if you want.” I offered hesitantly, trying to figure out what the heck Alan was doing and if I should go along with it or not.

“Thanks, Kalista. Aw, you’re the best.” He giggled like a drunk little girl. I rolled my eyes but smiled.

“You’re half-asleep, silly.”

“Sleep here.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me down next to him. I yelped a little at the sudden movement but fell in beside him. His arms looped around me lazily and he patted my hair like he was patting the kittens. Softly. Gently. Tenderly.

“I’m a cat.” He giggled sleepily, on the brink of passing out from dead tiredness.

“Alan, you’re an Alan, not a cat.” I corrected.

“My little kitten.” He mumbled into my hair. I reached up, intertwining my fingers with his. He yawned and pressed his nose against my hair. My neighbor might have been a little mysterious for the first two years, but he really is a sweetheart and a goof.

“Goodnight, Alan.” I chuckled. He smiled against the top of my head.

“Goodnight, kitten.”

Notes

This is for the very wonderful and amazing I_Ship_Kalan!

I hope you love this as much as I loved writing it! It was tons of fun and a unique idea!

Don't forget to keep on requesting! :)