Alice
Baker hated the rain more than she hated her neighbor’s cat. They shared many
similar traits: the wailing at night as she attempted to sleep, the unexpected
visits when all she wanted was some time for herself, away from home and cats,
but most importantly, they both seemed to enjoy her company much more than she
enjoyed theirs. The cat would always appear at her feet the moment she stepped
out of her house, almost as if he was waiting for her. When she first moved
into the blue house at the end of the street with her family, she was flattered
that the cat found her appealing, constantly bending down to stroke his soft
shiny black fur; he would purr into her hand, as she massaged the crease under
his chin, where his only white spot shone. That was a year ago. Things grew old
quickly; Alice would step out of her house to head to school and the cat would
be there. On most days, he would slide between her ankles until she petted him,
and if she refused in her rush to leave, the cat would pounce at her every
step, sometimes following her all the way to school.
Alice
had also enjoyed the rain at a certain point, but it, too, had reached its
peak. The day the Bakers moved into the blue house with the pink door was
cloudy and rainy, the showers speaking in a Morse code the entire day, lasting from
five minutes to two hours. Alice hadn’t minded, but it made unpacking a hassle.
Her parents cursed at the heavens under their breath as they carried in their
soaked dishes and bed sheets from the movers’ truck, despite being put in boxes.
Alice had laughed as the rain made her chestnut colored locks frizz, and she
pulled her hair into a ponytail. The following morning she awoke to a meowing
by her second floor window—this would be known as the first time she met the
neighbor’s cat. The moment she stepped out of bed and reached the window, a
flash of lighting crackled in the clear sky. The cat shot out of her view just
as the sky began to cry and darken.
Upon
moving from San Francisco, the Bakers were excited to get away from the bipolar
weather, but the on and off rain in their new town caused them to miss the Fog
City. The rain came suddenly, sometimes a flood taking place, other times
lasting all day in a light drizzle. Alice took to always carrying an umbrella,
despite the large number of mornings that she awoke with the sun caressing her
face. She carried it in her small, brown, worn-out canvas backpack—her soul
mate.
The
backpack had no real value, just that of sentiment. It was a gift from her late
aunt, Isabelle, before her sudden disappearance just a year before. She had
come for a visit as the Bakers got together their belongings to move and had
handed the bag to Alice. “Goodbye my dear,” she had whispered as she placed the
empty bag in the arms of young fourteen year old Alice. She smiled tenderly at
Alice, looking deep into her eyes, reciting her favorite quote: “watch with
glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are
always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic
will never find it.” It was the last time Alice would see her aunt.
Alice
grew attached to her new bag quickly; it was the one thing her aunt had left
behind. Although Alice rarely saw her aunt, she admired her way of approaching
life and her wisdom. Aunt Isabelle was the youngest from Alice’s father’s side
of the family, and also the only girl. From a young age Isabelle saved every
penny she got, and by the age of sixteen she had well over a thousand dollars,
she then began working part-time and saved every paycheck, and when her parents
passed away when she was twenty-six, she inherited half of their savings. She
had always lived off the minimal and now was her time to enjoy herself.
Isabelle had dreamed of living her own life exploring, and at twenty-eight
that’s exactly what she did. She was always considered kind of awkward, weird
and way too kept to herself to be normal, but now she was admired by many for her
ability to retire at such a young age.
That
was not why Alice admired her. Even if her aunt had not been able to retire,
Alice had a feeling she would never be tied down, but would find a way to live
her dream. She also had one of the most positive outlooks on life, something
Alice had a hard time with at times. Alice never had anything against her own
life, but she just knew she wasn’t meant to be where she was. She was like a
version of her younger aunt: very kept to herself, awkward, and there was just
something off that even Alice couldn’t put her finger on.
It was on the last day of school
that Alice was beginning to understand what it was. Alice opened her eyes to
rays of sunlight spilling into her room, landing on her nightstand. She sat up
and rubbed her eyes, glancing at her alarm clock. 6:08 AM. She still had thirty
minutes to sleep until she had to get ready for school, but with all the sun on
her face, she knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Alice pulled the
covers off her body, sat up, and swung her legs to the side of her bed, her
legs barely reaching the sun-warmed floor. She stared out her window, squinting
at the sun, partly from suspicion that it would suddenly be replaced by gray
clouds and cool rain drops. Still, the sun kept shining, and so Alice got to
work. She dressed in jean long shorts and a short sleeve plain black t-shirt,
along with her black high-tops, leaving her long hair down. Just as she was
about to leave her room and head to the kitchen she heard a meow.
Before
even turning around Alice knew what awaited her. Of course the cat was waiting
for her, she shouldn’t have expected anything different. Alice spun back to
face the sac of black fur on her windowsill, his green eyes narrowing in on her.
He meowed again, and began to rub against her window. Alice sighed, conflicted
on whether or not she should let him in. The cat, whom she took to calling Cili
because he acted supercilious about ninety percent of the time, was very daint
and never made a mess, but left a trail of cat fur that only seemed attracted
to Alice. The whole house could be spotless, but all of Alice’s shirts and
pants and even her shoes would be covered in cat fur. She sighed as she turned
away and walked down the stairs, leaving the cat to cry to its own distress. Why should I feel guilty, she thought, his owner should feel bad, not me. I can’t let that measly cat control me. Still
she heard those meows in her head as she poured her cereal.
Once
she stepped out her door Cili pounced at her feet, as if they were a gourmet
meal of liver. She ignored him as she walked on, her backpack pounding against
her back in a steady rhythm. She walked on, ignoring everything around her,
thinking about ways to waste her summer: reading under the shade of the trees
in her backyard, hanging out with her friends, sleeping in. She didn’t even
hear the meowing that seemed to run after her. The breeze brushed her hair off
of her shoulders. The smell of her cherry blossom trees filled her nose as she
turned onto the block her school was located.
The
meowing which had ceased behind her roared up suddenly. Alice spun around, her
eyebrow raised at the sudden enthusiasm of the cat she forgot was following
her. She caught her breath as she witnessed the cat curl himself into a ball,
shivering as if it were ten degrees out rather than seventy. Just as Alice arrived
to the cat’s side he began to grow quickly in size, his black fur turning
smooth and his small ball shape becoming long and vertical, slowly taking the
shape of human. Cili’s face lightened as the fur fused together and inward,
exposing olive toned human skin, his face framed by sharp edges. There before
her stood a 5’6 foot tall man, in a black suit with a white button down and a black
tie and dark shades covering his eyes. He had a mat of black hair slicked back
and where Cili’s whiskers were before was a clean shaven face.
Alice
hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she let out a long sigh, her
eyes franticly looking over the man in search of Cili, or some sign of the cat.
“Hello
Isabelle.” His voice was low but gentle. He let out a small cough into his
right fist, and then patted his chest twice lightly. “Pardon, cat fur makes me
cough, Isabelle,” he chuckled. “Alice, I mean, sorry, you look so much like
your aunt.” He reached out, about to grab Alice’s shoulders, and so Alice did
the only logical thing: she ran.
Alice
panted as she slammed the school door behind her, leaning against it trying to
fight down the burning against her chest. Once her breathing regulated she
looked around and her stomach dropped. Something was wrong. No one was around. Of
course this didn’t make sense; it was the last day of school, there should have
been waves of students standing by empty lockers or open classrooms, chatting
away about their summer plans. Instead the halls were empty, the fluorescent
light reflected off of the glossy floors.
Alice
pushed herself off the door and walked deeper into the school. The school was
well lit and looked quite normal, nothing like a haunted school would look like
in a scary movie. It was just… empty, as if everyone had decided to sleep in an
extra hour. Alice was half way down the hall when she heard the door she
entered in open. She froze and forced herself to face the door. There stood the
man in the doorway, holding open the door with his right hand.
“Okay,
maybe that was the wrong way to approach you. I apologize, I really do.” He
strolled into the school, the door slowly shutting behind him. For every step
he took forward Alice took one backwards, never letting her eyes stray off the
cat-man in front of her.
“You’re
Cili…” It was more processing statement than a question, but the man nodded,
“You do call me that. Though I’m not sure why.” He half-smiled, as if they were
chums and he had not just turned into a human before her eyes.
“What
do you want?!” It came out much louder than Alice had intended, but she could
feel the panic rising in her chest. She took a gulp and tried again, “why are
you here? Who are you?”
“You
said it yourself, I’m Cili,” he pulled off his glasses exposing his green eyes,
a goofy grin hanging on his face. “Cili—what a silly name.” He chuckled. “Alice,
I must speak with you.”
“Who are you? Where is everyone? What did you
do with them?” Alice asked again, her voice steady emphasizing every word. Her
eyes bore into his face, unwavering.
The
man, Cili, sighed. “Alice, I can’t really explain that just yet, I will tell
you that everyone is safe and unharmed, just taking a nap. But we must talk… about
Isabelle, your aunt, of course.”
Outside
there was a crack of lightning followed by the booming sound of thunder. The
blue sky was slowly covered by grey clouds that let raindrops fall into quickly
forming puddles.
