Sandra doodled a few clouds. They were intended to match the birds she had done earlier, but the birds seemed to look at them rather uneasy. “Pity you can’t come along.”
Shelley’s voice sounded as if coming from far away because she held the phone with only two fingers: her nail polish was still wet. “Isn’t it exciting?? You have a date while I have a date...”
Sandra’s pen created more clouds. The birds looked even more uneasy. “I’m not sure if I should go alone. I don’t know this Rickie. What if...”
Shelley tried to paint her lips while talking into her mobile. Now she sounded as if she was holding her breath while talking. “Can't you ask somebody else?”
Sandra’s clouds turned into waves. “Who?”
“Well… a friend, right?” Shelley said and now it sounded as if she spoke without moving her lips because she was concentrating on the lip liner work.
Sandra stopped doodling. “You mean… McIntyre??”
“Mbbbbhgnnhhnnng!!” Sandra said because she had poked the liner into her face – the name ‘McIntyre’ always did this to her. Sandra translated it into ‘Oh My Gawd!!’, the only three words Shelley had for the guy next door to Sandra.
“Just joking”, Sandra said. She ripped off the sheet and stared at the new one, blank as her mind when it came to friends, besides Shelley.
“What about...” Shelley’s mind was blank anyway because she couldn’t do more than one thing at a time, e.g. ‘think’ or ‘put on makeup’, but she made an effort. “It has to be somebody close, really close I mean.”
Sandra rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly the reason why I’m about to cancel the date and...” She stopped. She stared at what the pen had done on the sheet. If she squinted and looked sideways it was a… She tilted her head even more: an animal, with a tail and... She turned her head.
In the far corner the cat was having breakfast, digging into her favorite cat food which came in little cans with a very sexy cat printed on the outside.
“Somebody who shares your life”, Shelley said. “And who you can take with you and...You still there?”
Sandra didn’t answer. She looked at the cat.
The cat looked up, feeling that something was about to happen. It gulped down the food and looked at Sandra, alarmed.
***
“There's no guy in a dress”, the cat said. “Better check the girls’ restroom. Or the guys’.”
“I can't check the guys’ restroom!!” Sandra hissed. She no longer thought that it was a smart move to take the cat to the date.
The cat licked its nose. “Weeell... if you let me out of this...”
“No way!” Sandra grabbed the cat carrier even tighter. “You stuck out your tongue at the Doberman when we passed the bus stop until it went mad! You think I want you to drive the guy crazy? Eat from his cake? Step in his coffee?”
“There are no guys”, the cat said.
Sandra scanned the coffee shop. The cat was right. Sandra looked at her watch. She was on time.
“There's only a girl who looks like James Dean”, the cat said.
“What do you know about James Dean?” Now Sandra saw the girl, too. She sat close to the window and wore a white T-shirt under a windbreaker and straight cut-jeans. Her hair was kind of, well… quiff-like and...
The cat was hurt. “Hey! I've been around for quite a while – nine lives and all that!“
“She looks more like Alain Delon”, Sandra said.
“Like Alain Delon if he were a girl.”
“What do YOU know about Alain Delon?”
“...Like a girl who looks like Alain Delon and dresses like James Dean”, the cat said.
“That supposed to go on and on and on??” Sandra rechecked her watch. She shook it, looked again. She was still on time. But where the hell was Rickie?
“And you have a crush on James Dean”, the cat said.
“I have NOT!”
“Sure. You've got a James Dean mouse pad.”
Sandra knocked on the cat carrier. “Hullo??? It came free with a DVD order! And stop staring at her! She's already looking at me!”
The cat licked her nose again. Its tail twitched. “She's looking at ME! She likes cats. And she's cute. She smells good.”
“She's looking at ME! ‘Cause She doesn't like girls who are talking about her to a cat!”
The cat stared through the mesh. “She's got beautiful eyes. Come on – go to her. Tell her about your James Dean mouse pad. And ask her if you can sniff her.”
Sandra didn’t trust her ears. “What? Are you crazy?”
“If you don't want to sniff her I do. Go to her.”
“I'll certainly not...”
Sandra’s phone buzzed. She looked at the display which showed Satanichia Kurumizawa McDowell, on Sandra‘s list one of the dumbest Anime characters ever created. “Shelley? Shelley!! Say… how's your date going? Where are you?” She listened and listened and felt her brain give up on embracing what Shelley told her. “WHAT? You are WHERE??? Alone??? Are you out of your mind????”
Shelley’s voice seemed to come from far away. “I'm not alone. There's a lot of cars down here...”
Sandra still couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “You're dating your guy at an... underground parking garage??”
“...and if there's a lot of cars there must be a lot of people, right?”
Sandra tried to stay calm. “Now listen to me carefully. You turn around and walk to the exit. Now!”
“I can't, you know...”
Sandra tried very hard to stay calm. “Forget about the guy. Turn – and walk away!”
“I just can't...”
Sandra still tried. “Do it!! NOW!”
Shelley’s voice was only a whisper. “I can't. I don't know where the exit is.”
“WHAT??”
“It's too dark down here and... Oh my gawd!”
“Shelley? Shelley??”
“OH MY GAWD!”
The line went dead.
The cat had been listening. “Okay. So that's it. Well, she's in a better world now. And we can go on with our lives and have fun. Go to her. I want to sniff her.”
Sandra wasn’t listening. “I have to do... something! Call the police...” She froze in panic.
The cat shook its head. “Why bother the guys? I mean they've got a lot of important things on their minds so we better leave them to their job.”
Sandra couldn’t move. She was trembling. “I don't even know where she is...”
“You'll know from the news where she was – after they found her body. Unless the guy dumped her somewhere else.”
With no other option left Sandra began to cry. “I'll never see her again...”
“Don't worry”, the cat said. “They'll probably ask you to identify what's left of her. So...”
Sandra felt a hand touch her arm and wanted to scream but couldn’t: brain and body were no longer talking to each other.
“Hey... You okay?” Somebody offered her a tissue and brain and body decided to take it.
“Thanks...” Sandra blew her nose. She looked up and froze again.
The girl who looked like James Dean smiled. “Are you... ?”
Sandra stared.
“You are, right?” The girl in Jeans, white T-shirt and windbreaker produced another tissue. “Message in a bottle? And you wrote that you like cats.”
The cat was over the moon. “Yes! She's the girl who writes those incredibly warm and emotional love letters. And I'm her cat!”
“That your cat?” The girl beamed at the cat. “It's cute. May I touch it?”
The cat was ecstatic. “Sure! Go ahead. Touch me. Make me go crazy.”
Sandra’s voice was hoarse. “Rickie?” She cleared her throat. “I mean... RICKIE??”
Rickie put a finger through the wire mesh and stroked the cat. “Why don't we order something nice for you and sit down and you tell me why you're crying and what I can do to make you smile again?”
“RICKIE???”
The cat’s eyes were yellow slits. “You have a date with a girl! Now that's kinky!”
***
“Why didn't you tell me right away where she wanted to go??” Sandra would have loved to shout at the cat but whispered instead because she had the feeling that Rickie wasn’t prepared to see her date having a conversation with a cat.
“You had a pillow over your head and your fingers in your ears when she talked to the guy on the phone”, the cat said. “So I thought you didn't want to know. And why do you want to know now? It's too late anyway.”
“You're disgusting!” Sandra felt the tears again.
Rickie came back from the car, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls which were covered with graffiti and peeling paint and dirt. “Gawd, what a scary place. Hey!” She hugged Sandra. “No need to cry.”
“Thanks for coming along and helping me find her.” Sandra wiped away the tears. “I'm so sorry. I mean that's not what you expected when you answered my mail...”
“Don't worry.” Rickie put her arm around Sandra's shoulder. “I hope there'll be a next time - so we can go to a nicer place and get to know each other.”
“Sure there'll be a next time”, the cat said. “If somebody smells so good there's always a next time.”
Rickie looked left and right. “You sure she wanted to go... here?? To date a stranger? I know she's your friend but, frankly, that's crazy! I mean...”
“You call it crazy. I call it brain-dead”, the cat said.
“Shut up!” Sandra snapped, blushed and cursed herself. Don't! She reminded herself. Just don't! You’re not alone.
Rickie tickled the cat. “He's just worried. Sweet little thing. He's probably missing your friend, too.”
The cat's fur crackled with electricity and delight. “No, not really. Just worried to lose precious time we three should better spend having a tickling and stroking party.”
“If I had known what sort of place that is...” Rickie shook her head. “Here. Take that torch.” She handed her a Maglite four cell police version. Black, heavy, made to hold on to in dark places. “I check this side, you the other.” She waved with the spare Maglite, as black and even heavier than the one she had given Sandra. Then she turned to walk away.
Sandra stopped breathing. She clutched the cat cage and the flashlight, like a castaway clutching a life buoy. She inhaled with a sob. “You think I'm gonna walk into this alone??” she shouted in the direction where she heard Rickie's steps. “It's dark!! Like a coal mine!!!”
“Dark?” the cat sneered. “You call this dark? I call it romantic lighting. I could wear shades down here and still see the rats. Besides smelling them.”
“RATS???” Sandra began to tremble.
Rickie stopped. “Rats??!! Where??”
The cat sighed. “Don't tell me you can't smell them – this thick, juicy smell...”
Sandra gulped down something that was rising in her throat. She was no longer trembling – she was shaking.
“You better switch on the flashlight”, the cat said. “There's a push button on top... right, that's it.”
The beam was quivering like the needle on the Richter scale indicator, registering with merciless precision Sandra’s emotional state. She was unable to steady her hand, unable to decide what was worse: to be in the dark or to see something she didn't want to see, to stay where she was or to walk into a space where she didn't want go.
She heard Rickie move on and she made a step, too. Then another one: she didn't want to be left behind, alone.
“Right...” the cat said. “And now you watch your step 'cause there are three stairs right behind the car over there.”
Sandra stopped. “You know this place???”
The cat was annoyed. “What do you think I do in the night? Sit on my tail? Like you? While out there life is going on, the big city's pulse throbs and... Sure I know the place. Every cat knows it! It's the place to go, to see and be seen...”
For a second Sandra simply forgot to shake with fear. “I don't sit on my tail!! I go out whenever I want and have fun and...”
The cat wasn't impressed. “This is the place the in-crowd goes, famous for the interior design. And the stink. And the rustling and crawling. And the big, fat rats. There!! That's one of them!”
“IIIIeeekk!” Sandra was back from 'insulted pride' to 'sheer terror' in a millisecond.
Like an echo Rickies' voice came from the other side. “IIIIeee....” she stopped in mid-shriek. “Why the f***k are you screaming?”
Sandra refilled her lungs. “Why did you?” she panted.
“Because you did!!” Rickie came back to Sandra. “You're shaking!” She took Sandra in her arms, something that Sandra suddenly enjoyed so much that she closed her eyes and leaned her head on Rickie's shoulder. “Everything's fine”, Rickie said and Sandra believed it because in Rickie's arms it sounded like the truth. “I'm with you. If something happens...”
Sandra opened her eyes. “What do you mean: ‘happens’??” And what the hell was she doing in a girl's arms? She made a step backwards.
Rickie pointed to the cage. “Hey! Why don't you let the cat out? Perhaps it'll find your friend – if she's still here.”
Sandra made another step backwards. “What do you mean: ‘still here’?”
“Relax. We'll find her, trust me.” Rickie bent down and looked into the cat carrier. She winked at the cat. The cat winked back.
“DON'T...” Sandra was too slow. Rickie had unhooked the latch. “NO!!! Look what you've done - it's GONE!”
Rickie nudged her. “Don't be so skittish. Now - you take this side and I'll be over there. Let's go.”
***
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