Alley Cat
Oops I Did It Again

Ah, New York City. I hate it here. It’s arguably the most romanticized city in all of America, and I can vouch for that because I’ve lived here longer than the U.S. was a nation.

The streets are filthy. Black gum dots the concrete pavement and decorates the undersides of our subway rails. There’s so many people walking down the streets during rush hour that they all end up trying to squeeze past one another. And don’t get me started on the smell! It’s like every smell in existence intermingled together to create this giant abominable cloud of perfume unique to the one and only New York City.

You’re probably thinking, Gee, Hel. If you hate it here so bad, why can’t you just move? If only you could hear me scoff. As if I hadn’t thought about that three centuries ago! The thing is, as much as I hate it here, there’s no other place I’d rather call home.

I’m miserable. Everyone else who lives here is miserable. And those that claim to be happy are just lying to themselves. I just figured, why not be miserable together? So, I decided to stay here. I got to watch New York transform from a cold, rocky, woodsy place packed with trees and life, to a breathing concrete slab infested with tourists and hipsters. Immigrants came and went with stars in their eyes, dreaming of the perfect American life. And I got front-row-seats to watch their spirits break under the suffocating weight of American capitalism. I’ve seen it all.

At this point, I’m so bored with life that I choose to stay in my cat form for most of my days. There’s lots of advantages to being a cat. No one judges you when you fish for leftovers in restaurant dumpsters. You can sleep anywhere: in a cardboard box, behind a dumpster (I usually prefer recycling bins), under a bridge, but Central Park is one of my favorite places. I also age slower in my cat form. I haven’t decided if that’s a good thing. Like I said before, my only humble dream is to live out the rest of my days in peace. After my ninth life, I’m done. I will cease to exist in this world and no one will remember me.

Oh, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m actually looking forward to death. It’s boredom that bothers me. I can feel it gnawing at me from the inside as I lay sprawled out on an apartment roof. I stretch out my hind leg and scratch the back of my head. Or is it fleas? I scratch again and feel the itch fade away. Nope, boredom.

I contemplate sleeping away, but the sun is unbearably hot today. I force myself to get up and hop from rooftop to rooftop, slowly descending as the buildings shrink in height. I move with ease and speed. Gentle breeze flows through my short black fur, cooling me down. I look like a quick shadow flying in the air. My green eyes pop vibrantly in color, a mark of my curse.

When I’m about three stories from the ground, I jump down and feel myself fall. Every movement is instinctual. I pull my body inward and somersault, twirling on the way down. I land on all fours, perfect as usual. Now, it’s time to have some fun.

There’s a small space in between Emma’s Bakery and a classic cinema. I squeeze in and rummage behind a dumpster for a bag and haul it out with my teeth. I keep bags of human clothes all round NYC just in case for emergencies. As much as I prefer to stay in cat form, there’s a limit (you know, because nature’s ‘balanced’ but I call it cruel). If I stay in my cat form too long, I run the risk of becoming a real cat. I’ll slowly lose my awareness and start forgetting things, important things. I’ll forget my name and I’ll depend more on instinct. Worst of all? I’ll judge people less. Making fun of other people is one of the few things that brings me joy in life. Just thinking about not being able to laugh at a dumb heiress getting her Louis Vuitton purse snatched on the street already makes me want to cry.

I glance around to make sure that I’m completely alone and glow. Light radiates from every part of my body as I stretch. My transformation isn’t painless, but my pain doesn’t come close to what the bigger cats must go through. Bones snap and rearrange themselves into all the right places as I rise on two human feet. My black fur disintegrates into smoke. My wavy black hair sweeps past my shoulder blades. My bare brown skin, deep and golden like clay, returns yet again. I feel my breasts fill out my chest, my belly sore from standing up after so much time. When my transformation is complete, all that’s left from my cat form are my green eyes, not that I mind. I remember that my eyes once resembled my father’s, and I feel grateful for the change.

I put on my clothes in a rush. Underwear feels strange, and I realize halfway that my hoodie is on backwards. It takes me a few tries, but my clothes are on. My shoes are laced. I walk back out into daylight and see that the sun’s still high in the sky, teasing me. It reminds me of the abundance of time I have left and motivates me to do something rash.

I head over to the skate park. It’s basically a huge bowl where angsty teens gather to show off their fancy flips and tricks. Upon my arrival, I’m ambushed by the sound of rolling wheels scraping the pavement and loud thunking sounds of floppy-haired guys kicking their skateboards in mid air. It’s especially crowded today. All I see is colorful dots moving around in the bowl, each dot indicating a helmet-wearing dork that can’t stand me. Even the girls here don’t like me. I guess I can’t blame them after what happened last time.

My presence arouses their attention, and the skating sounds come to an eventual stop. I find myself freezing in place as well. The ground vibrates beneath my feet, and I turn to the direction of the sound. A tall dark skinned boy rolls towards me on a skateboard. I can’t help but smile at his bulky knee pads and his springy hair crushed under his helmet. He wears a serious expression, but he tries to hide it with his calm voice.

“Helene.” He says my name without any warmth. I’m an inconvenience to him, to everyone. I watch as he wills his skateboard to stop and hops off. He keeps the board in place under the soles of his old sneakers. “You know you’re not welcomed here.”

As usual, I put on my best face before my patience wears out. “Please, Raphael! I’m so bored. I just came here to watch you skate.”

Someone speaks out of line. “That’s a load of shit!” We both turn to the source of the sound and see that it’s Jai. She’s wearing her newest pair of rollerblades; they shine under the blazing sun. I’m sure she stole them. There wasn’t a single person at this rink could afford blades like those, let alone food. They all depended on reduced school lunches for sustenance...and rabbits if they were feeling particularly hungry.

“Last time you stole money from our bags and set my back on fire!” Jai’s eyes glowed to a muted sand color and faded back to their natural brown. “I still have second degree burns because of you!”

The rest of the skaters began closing in on me, and I let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, I’ll admit it. The first one was intentional. But the second one? I swear that wasn’t me!”

“The burns on my back says otherwise!”

Raphael raises his hand to silence the rest of his crew and looks down at me. He stands at nearly six feet tall while I barely surpass his lower rib at five feet. Every reasonable bone in my body warns me to keep at a distance but like the fool I am I ignore it. I’ve died too many times to care. I’ve been tortured before. I tell myself that I’ve seen it all, felt it all. I have no other reason to care and nobody else to consider. I’m alone and a part of me is so desperate that I’m willing to drag anyone else down with me.

Raphael looks down at me not with contempt but something that resembled concern. “Helene,” he says in a voice so low that none of the other skaters can hear it. What he says is between us and only us. “If I only had my needs in mind, I wouldn’t hesitate to let you stay. I’d love to let you stick around and watch us skate, but you’ve screwed us up before.”

His sympathy irritates me. I came here to start a fight. It wasn’t because of anything personal; I’m just bored. But Raphael just had to ruin everything like always with his kindness and patience and everything else that made him so great. It makes my blood boil.

A scoff escapes my lips and heat rises to my cheeks. “Look, Raphael. If you wanna kick my ass, go ahead. But I’ll warn ya. It’s just going to end like last time with half your crew stacked in the corner.” I roll up the sleeves of my hoodie in anticipation, but Raphael frowns at me. His patience wears away, bit by bit. A smile grows on my face and I grin like the Cashmere cat.

“For the last time, I don’t want to fight you!” Raphael realizes that he’s yelling and forces himself to calm down. But it’s too late. His unease agitates the rest of his crew, causing them to eye me with suspicion. I can sense the adrenaline pumping through their veins, and I jitter from excitement.

“Please, Helene.” Raphael’s voice shakes. For a moment, I pity him but the thought is fleeting. I forget that I feel anything. “You don’t belong here. This is lynx territory. You know I don’t like violence.”

“I don’t get what’s the big deal. I’m not doing anything wrong as of now.” I shrug my shoulders. I hear a feline growl from my right. It’s vicious and aches of excitement. There’s a whole clan of lynxes that wants a taste of my blood. My sweet, domestic, blood. “And besides, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skate.”

I walk over to an abandoned skateboard and step on its edge. In my head, I figured that it would pop in mid air so I could grab it. Instead, the skateboard snaps in half with a clean split in the middle. My heart stops. “Oops.”

It felt like time had frozen as I stood, mortified. Before I got a chance to apologize (because I’m not a total monster), the skateboard did something unthinkable. Orange flames simultaneously burst from nowhere, setting the entire skateboard on fire. My eyes widened and I felt my pupils contract into slits.

“I swear I didn’t do that!”

But it was too late. I had at least thirty skaters transform into lynxes before my very eyes. Raphael gave me a sorry look before joining them.

Normally, I would be ecstatic. I loved fights, but I was still awestruck at what just happened. This was the second time that something had caught on fire within my presence. I’ve never been able to do something like that before throughout all of my nine lives. Why now?

Until I could get answers, I had to run. I got a head start. Even in my human form, I ran like the wind. I jumped over ramps, ran across rails. The lynx cats were right behind me, and they were just as fast. Even though I didn’t look behind, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. It must look funny to anyone watching. Lynx cats really aren’t big. They could weigh up to forty pounds and grow up to a little over two feet. One cat’s not that big of a deal. But considering the fact that they can run up to fifty-miles an hour and they’re angry? Well, that’s a reason for concern. If I’m not careful, they can cost me an eye or an ear or both.

I lead them to the big skating bowl and leap. My entire body flies, arms flailing and legs cycling on nothing but air. I make it to the other side with my heels dangling over the edge of the bowl. Gravity tugs on me, but I don’t fall. I turn around. On the other side, the lynxes hover at the edge and hesitate. They shuffle their paws a bit in frustration and glare at me with their sandy colored eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I have to shout to be heard. My voice echoes down the skating bowl. “Big jump? Your little furry legs can’t carry you across?” I take pride in teasing them and laugh.

One lynx stands out from the rest. This one has spotted fur instead of all gray like the rest. He’s bigger and his eyes carry less heat and rage than the other cats. I recognize him as Raphael. He cuts his way across the other cats and stares directly at me. Even though he can’t speak, I can tell what he wants to say.

This is your final warning, Hel. You are no longer welcomed here. Period. Next time, we won’t be so easy.

I roll my eyes. I don’t know how many times I have to prove it to him. I’m faster and smarter. He will never get me. And if he does? I’ll never give him the satisfaction of submitting. I have nobody and nothing. What else do I have to lose?

I walk away and head back to the streets. My little shananigan spent almost half the day. I got my fill of entertainment and now it’s time to rest.

I blend in with the humans as I wait at the crosswalk for the light to turn green. I feel like I’m in some Hollywood movie. The people waiting around me dress nicely in business suits and trendy clothes. The skyscrapers are scraping the skies as always. The pizza shops emit sweet smells of freshly baked pies and steaming marinara sauce. Taxis populate the streets, stacking in long rows creating raffic jams. Police sirens roar as they race, hoping to bust another drug ring. It’s just another ordinary day in New York City.

The light turns green. I think about all the things I could do to burn more time. Burn. I shake my head and try to forget what happened. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

Suddenly, everyone around me scatters. I don’t understand why until the sound of dogs barking and howling penetrate my ears. Across the street, a pack of dogs is chasing down a little blue cat. The cat is running for its life and it makes a turn onto my crosswalk. The dogs run after it.

Taxi cars screech to a halt, and I think about running as well. Before I could move, the cat runs to hide behind my ankles. I groan. The dogs growl at me, but I stand tall despite my pounding heart. They’re abnormally large dogs. I estimate that they weigh at least eighty pounds. I can’t even tell what breed they are. The longer I stare at them, the more their forms start to blur. They look like huskies. A few are black and white with thick coats and tails that curl over their backs. I might have been cute if they weren’t snarling at me with their dagger-length canines.

I flip my hands palm-side up and will my claws to shoot out from my fingertips. Blood stains my claws, but I try not to wince. I show the dogs my claws up close and they start to back away. Their wet noses wiggle as they sniff my blood and they whimper. Cat blood is putrid. Even dogs know that.

I hiss. It’s closer to a snake’s hiss than a cat’s and it does the trick. It sends the dogs running. When the dogs are far enough, I turn to the cowardly cat cowering behind my ankles. It mews softly like a kitten despite being old enough to mate.

“It’s safe now. You can leave.”

But the cat stays. It sits coyly at my feet, swishing its long blue tail side-to-side. I press my voice harder. “I said, you can go!”

The cat purrs and rubs its head against my ankles. I shake my foot in disgust. “Gross! Go home!”

I get a head start and for a while I think that the cat’s left me until I turn around to see it still there. The cat had been following me, treading lightly and keeping a good six feet away. I sigh. The cat follows me around the city until the sun sinks in the horizon. My ears twitch as I hear a low but violent rumble from its stomach. The cat gives me a look that translates to feed me.

I pull at my thick hair in frustration. I’m tired. I have no money or home. How am I supposed to feed two stomachs when I could barely afford to feed one?

I realize that I have no choice but take him the only place that feeds strays. I have to take him to Luka.

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