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Ray found the cat when he was six.
It was a quaint little thing, barely larger than the 6 year-old’s hand.
He’d never seen one, before that point in his life. Mama always made sure to never let them go beyond the fence. Inside the field, there aren’t much animals. Sure there were birds in sky, and many days were spent by the other kids chasing the frogs in the streams, but other than those, animals — pet animals — were something that was the stuff of books and fairy tales.
The cat narrowed its eyes and stopped in front of him. Was it judging him? Ray looked around to see if anyone else was present. They were in the field. Norman and Emma had gone off to play tag with the others, but he preferred to sit this one out. That was good. No one would be present to see what he did next.
He took his hand and cautiously held it put. A long stretch of silence and stillness overcame them.
He waited.
To this day, he can’t remember how long he waited. Was it a minute? Ten? An hour? All he could remember was that long stretch when suddenly, there was movement. The cat, the black mongrel that it was, approached cautiously and nuzzled into his outstretched palm. Now closer, Ray could see a small, black shorthair with short whiskers and emerald eyes.
After a bit more of waiting, the cat came by to sit beside him. Ray intended to it be. He might have only been 6 years old, but he knew that not everyone wanted to be bothered. Still, he found himself tilting his head when it started clawing away at his pants.
Perhaps he didn’t know much about cats despite all the factoids he had about them stored away inside his head from all those days spent at the library.
How weird. Did it get satisfaction from ruining his pants? This was going to be a pain to explain to Mama.
The clawing continued, until voices arose from the distance. It was Emma and Norman. Ray suppressed a sigh. They must have returned from tag.
He turned to shoe away the cat, but it was already gone. The only evidence of its presence being the marks on his pants.
He sympathized with the feline creature. He hated interacting with the other kids. Not when he knew what would happen to them.
He wished he could disappear too.
Norman held his breath as he quietly followed the footsteps. For the past week, Ray had been acting weird the past few nights. Norman would hear him crawling out of bed, and he would return an hour later.
He knew that he shouldn’t mind other people’s business, but his curiosity eventually won him over. Which led him to this: quietly following the raven haired boy in order to find out his secret. He tiptoed quietly, doing his best to not make any noise.
Norman had a hunch on where Ray was going. He had gone on this route many times himself, but never in the dark of the night.
The route to the library.
A few moments of silence passed as Norman let Ray enter the room. This was bad. He’d locked the door after him. If Norman wanted to sneak up and follow him through the library, he would have to open it.
Now, Norman was six, but that wasn’t an excuse to not be resourceful. He had already anticipated an outcome like this happening.
He crouched and took out the bobby pins he had asked from Gilda. She had looked at him as if he was abnormal for asking. Then again, he hadn’t been very clear with his intentions.
His hands worked deftly as he fiddled with a lock. A little bit of pressure here, and a turn there, and aha. It was open!
He pried it open, quietly as he could, when a voice from above shook him out of his thought.
“You finally showed your face, Norman.”
Oh no.
“R-Ray. What a surprise to see you here…” he said. His hands fumbled to hide the bobby pins, but it was too late. Ray had already seen.
“I could say the same to you, considering it’s the middle of the night, Norman.”
“That’s why I was following you!” he whispered, careful not to disturb the other children, or worse, Mama. “You’re such a hypocrite.”
“I know you were following me.” Ray stuck his pointer finger to the other boy’s chest. “I just can’t figure out why.”
“I-I… I was just concerned.”
That was the truth. He was just concerned. There was nothing else to it, right?
He must have said something right, because the other boy’s face softened before he turned away. “Follow me, Norman,” he beckoned as he gestured to one of the library tables.
Norman stood up from the floor and made his way to where Ray was gesturing.
He must have said something right, because the other boy’s face softened before he turned away. “Follow me, Norman,” he beckoned as he gestured to one of the library tables.
Norman stood up from the floor and made his way to where Ray was gesturing. Finally, he could find out Ray’s secret. He took a breath and looked to see… a cat?
Norman was incredulous. “Is that really what I think it is?”
“Yeah.”
Of all the things on Norman’s list of possibilities, this wasn’t even close to being on the top. He leaned forward a bit to get a better view of the small animal.
“Did it come from the outside world?” he asked, making sure his voice was so quiet it wouldn’t disturb the animal.
Ray replied in an equally quiet voice, “I think so.”
Norman would have loved to asked more, but the smell of fish caught his attention. It was a putrid smell. He held back a grin as his brain came to the only logical conclusion.
“You’ve been feeding it.”
The streams were too small to hold any fish. And the river near the walls were too deep for a cat to wade through. Only Ray would have been able to feed it fish.
“I’m not,” Ray said, running a hand through his hair.
Norman smirked. That was Ray’s tell alright. He had definitely hit the mark.
“Right…” he drawled out,
Quiet ebbed between the two of them. A beat of silence, then two. It was clear that Ray wasn’t going to speak any further unless he was prompted.
Norman cleared his throat, “So… what do you call it?”
”Excuse me?”
”It has to have a name, doesn’t it?”
Ray gave him that look. The same look that Mama sometimes gave him. The look that said he was being stupid. “No one says it has to have a name.”
Now that was just wrong. “Everyone needs a name, Ray. Even cats.”
Ray chuckled before turning to pet the cat. “Fine. I’ll name it… Cat.”
He took a deep breath. “No.”
”What do you mean no?”
”That’s such a horrible name,” Norman said. He took a moment to hide a grin as an idea came to him. “It would be like calling Emma, orange.”
The other boy blinked, before stifling a laugh at the thought. “It would be accurate.” He grinned a little before bending over in laughter.
Norman hid a smile to himself while he watched Ray get the laughter out of his system. It was such a rare occurrence to see the boy laughed. Norman wished he could see it everyday. If only they were closer friends.
If only.
Norman was getting closer to him. After that night at the library, Ray knew it was only a matter of time before Norman would try to get closer to him. He wished Norman wouldn’t try. He would only get hurt.
Because he remembers. Ray remembers everything. Those monsters. His real mother.
Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath before closing the book he was reading. The Adventures of Ugo. It was about a boy and his lemur surviving a world full pf monsters. What a joke. He knew the truth. There was nothing waiting for them in the outside world. He was already planning on killing sacrificing himself. Getting closer would just bring Norman down with him. And Ray didn’t want that. He didn’t want someone he’d come to consider an acquaintance a friend to die. But Norman proved to be too stubborn. It was an afternoon Sunday, around two weeks after that library night, when it happened:
Norman wanted to bathe Cat.
Ray couldn’t remember the last someone had wanted to spend time with him. The other kids had learnt already that he liked to read instead of playing with them, and so they just left him alone. Norman used to be one of them.
Used to be.
“Are you okay, Ray?”
Ah. He had zoned out. He was getting into the habit of that.
”I’m fine, Norman,” he placated the other boy. He really was fine. He didn’t need Norman’s concern. “I’m… not sure that Cat needs a bath.”
Norman sighed. “He needs a bath. And he’s getting one, whether you like it or not.”
Oh. Norman was serious.
Ray looked at the gremlin that Norman had held in front of him. It was certainly… bathed, for lack of a better word. Or was soaked more apt? Still, Cat was looking far from its namesake.
”He’s clean now.”
”He?”
Norman blushed. Ray would swear that such a sight would anyone happy. He wasn’t weird for that, was he?
“I… may have looked,” he said, ears like a freshly picked apple.
”It’s fine. Cat probably doesn’t care.”
“I still don’t approve of the name.”
“No one cares, Norman.”
”I do,” he said petulantly. Norman could be so stubborn sometimes. Still, it was nice to know that someone else was taking care of Cat when he couldn’t. Norman bent down to cover the gremlin with a towel, humming a familiar tune. A tune that Ray recognized oh so well.
“Isabella…”
Norman stopped humming to look at him. “Hmm… you said something, Ray?”
”It’s nothing. Were you singing Mama’s song?”
“Yeah. It’s nice. I could sing it for you, if you want,” the other boy offered.
Ray was tempted. It had been so lock since Mama had sung to him. Maybe it would be nice to hear it again.
“Okay.”
From then on, a melodic peace stretched out between them whenever each boy got back to the library. To their place.
Finally, one evening, Norman broke the melody. “Ray,” he called out, fingers combing through Cat’s fur.
”Hmm?”
”We’re friends. Right?”
Ray paused to think. Despite how he thought of friendship with Norman as a distant dream, there was some merit in officially recognizing their… friendship.
”I guess we are.”
Norman smiled at him, and Ray surprised himself by smiling back. It was nice to finally have a friend. To have someone he could rely on.
Ray found the cat when he was six.
He’s glad he did.