art by Jonathan Westbrook
I Heard You Got a Cat, I Heard You Named Him Charles
I heard you got a cat. I heard you named him Charles. I guess you didn't know that I do cats too?
I played all those games you wanted, all those black-blond-red-brown-bald-headed strangers. But you never said you wanted a cat. I could have done that too.
I told you that you'd never have to replace me, and I meant exactly what I said. I told you I could be anything you wanted--or even what you didn't know you wanted. In how many bars did I buy you drinks, wearing how many different skins? Through how many eyes and mouths did I pick you up? With how many hands did I touch you?
All those different men--all me. That hint of danger and thrill of confusion you always wanted, that only I could give you.
I heard you don't go to bars anymore. I heard you're afraid I still do. But that was never what I wanted. That was always just for you.
I was a fox once, before I met you. For three whole months, I was--except, now and then, when I was half of one instead. That wasn't what I wanted either, but I did it because I could. I was the only one who could.
And I can do cats too.
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I wouldn't even need a litter box. I could feed and water myself. I'd never scratch your furniture either--at least not without a cause.
During the day, when you're out and gone, I could change back to a man. I could wash your breakfast dishes, make your morning bed, dust and tidy up your rooms. I could leave chocolate and flowers on your fluffed-up pillows, and I could still be a cat when you returned.
At night, I'd watch you drink your tea and read your books. I'd curl up on your lap. I'd never let you be alone.
I could change at night too, of course, if you ever wanted that.
Or I could stay a cat instead. If that's really all you want, I'd stay a cat for you. Or several cats, perhaps? A different cat every day--tabby, calico, Maltese, Kashmir, tortoiseshell. Whatever you want me to be, I'm not going to beg or threaten you, but I'll take what I can get.
I told you that you'd never have to replace me, but I heard you got a cat. And even though you named him Charles, it's not too late to give him back.
The End
This story was first published on Wednesday, February 20th, 2013
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