Carl, Janie, and Billy
Introducing the First Edition of Six-Minute Fiction
The tension in the air was thick, like an invisible fog. It was time for Billy to visit the vet again. He hated that, of course. What cat likes going to the vet’s office? Whenever Billy saw the cat carrier come out, he knew something bad was about to happen. So, he immediately went to one of his hiding places.
In many ways, Billy was a typical feline. Standoffish much of the time, affectionate when he wanted to be. He liked his humans okay, he liked them better when they allowed him to call the shots. And, if things weren’t going his way, he hid. Yes, a typical feline.
Carl, and his wife Janie, adopted Billy from one of the local animal shelters. They had zero cat experience, but were willing to learn. They had cat friends who constantly extolled the virtues of sharing their homes with felines.
Janie was a “make a decision and figure it out as you go along” type. Carl, as was his wont, researched the heck out of even the most minor of things before making a decision. They often were on opposite ends of the same rope, but somehow they usually wound up on common ground, more or less. One of the big box pet stores was having an adoption event, so Carl and Janie decided, through their own separate processes, they were ready to add a new member to their little family.
Carl had seen Billy’s picture and a brief bio online and there was something about him that called out to Carl. He knew Billy was the one. And, Carl was right. Billy was the one. Janie loved Billy, and she and Billy interacted frequently, but it was Carl who felt an unusual connection as soon as he laid eyes on him. He was aware, though, that it was always going to be kind of a one way thing. Billy was a cat, after all. Anyone who has lived with a cat knows it’s not possible to know exactly what a cat is thinking.
Janie and Carl loved having Billy share their home. And, Billy seemed happy, as far as it is possible to judge how a cat feels. Billy was not a lap cat at first, but as he grew more comfortable with his humans, he began to see the benefits of cozying up to them, especially Carl. So much so, that Janie jokingly began referring to Carl as Billy’s “boy”, as in “Oh, there’s Billy the Cat and his boy, Carl.” Carl didn’t mind, though. He kind of liked being Billy’s boy.
Being “Billy’s boy” did not mean that Carl did only that which pleased Billy. Actually, Carl was quite meticulous about doing what was best for Billy, whether Billy liked it or not. Such as, Carl precisely measured out Billy’s food to avoid overfeeding. Only healthy cat treats and toys were permitted, after much internet research. Carl trimmed Billy’s claws regularly, and Carl and Janie teamed up to bathe Billy occasionally. Carl was adamant about doing what was required to allow Billy to live a long and healthy life, no matter what Billy thought about it.
And, of course, this included regular vet visits. Having been through it before, this time when Janie brought the cat carrier in from the garage, and Billy ran off to hide, Carl knew where to go. The bedroom.
Carl found Billy under the bed amongst the storage boxes and general detritus that had collected under there, but he couldn’t quite reach him. Carl muttered, mostly to himself, “C’mon Billy, we have to go. You need your shots.” He heard a tiny voice say, “No, I’m not going.”
Carl was startled by this as he had never heard Billy talk before, so he naturally said, “Dang, Billy, I never heard you talk before.”
Billy: “You don’t know everything about me, you know.”
Carl: ”Yes, obviously that’s true. Actually this is fantastic! It’ll be so much easier to communicate with you if we can just talk to one another.”
Billy: “Hold on there, big boy. What makes you think I want to have conversations with you? What’s in it for me?”
Carl: “Gee, Billy, does our relationship have to be transactional?
Billy: “What other kind of relationship is there? You give me food and shelter and security, and I, once in a while, hang out with you. We both get what we want, see?”
Carl: “But my point is, it doesn’t have to be that way. We can talk, and exchange thoughts and ideas, and we can become real friends.”
Billy: “Ah, I don’t know. It sounds kind of crazy. A cat and a human? Friends? Is that even possible? We are so different.”
Carl: “Sure it’s possible! We can do this, Billy! It’ll be great!”
Billy: “Well, okay, let’s try . . . hey, are you sure you’re all right? You did hit your head kind of hard on the bed frame.”
Carl: “What? I didn’t . . . I am feeling kind of . . . room spinning . . .”
Janie wondered what was keeping them so she went to the bedroom. She found Carl lying face down next to the bed, motionless, in a rapidly spreading pool of blood and shrieked, “Carl! Carl! Are you okay? Billy, what happened to Carl?”
Billy just sat there next to him, silent and impassive.
Postscript:
The death of a loved one changes those who are left behind. It has to. Carl and Janie and Billy had become quite a team. However, nothing lasts forever and they, as we all do, would have to learn this.
But not yet.
Carl was okay. He had knocked himself out cold when he tripped over a rug and hit his head on the bed frame. He sustained a concussion and needed five stitches to close a looked-worse-than-it-was cut on his forehead, and he had a goose egg on his noggin the size of a . . . well, goose egg, but he was fine.
Carl remembered entering the bedroom but had no memory of falling or hitting his head.
Billy eventually visited the vet and got his shots. The relationship between Billy and Carl continued to be close. Carl sensed something odd, though. He talked to Billy, a lot, and Billy seemed to understand him, like really understand him. Janie saw it, too. Something strange was going on there.
Billy remained silent, and impassive as ever.
