Page 5 of Guarded By a Monster

“You’ve had a long day. Want me to follow you home?”

I smiled. “No, thank you, I’ll be okay.”

He hesitated, his lips pressed into a line. After a long moment, he nodded. “Okay then. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

Before he thought better of letting me go without an escort, I cranked the engine and pulled out. I didn’t live far, but I went past the turn for my house and into a drive through. I was sure the cats would flay me for being late with their dinner, but I needed to eat, too.

I pulled into my driveway with half of my fries and drink gone. I gathered my things, locked the car, and made my way to the door with keys in hand. My huge orange tabby, Sir Purrs-a-lot, stared at me from the living room window. As I slipped my key into the lock, he wailed like he was starving.

“I know, I know. I’m coming. You aren’t going to starve because your dinner is two hours late.”

I waded through a mass of swirling bodies, lashing tails and plaintive meows. My hands shook slightly as I reached for the cabinet - they hadn't really stopped since last night, but I'd gotten better at hiding it. I set what was left of my dinner beside the sink and got to work picking up empty dishes and pulling various medicines and food out of the cabinet dedicated to cats.

By the time I had everything ready and placed bowls back into their places on the kitchen floor, everyone had lined up and most waited patiently. The kitten I'd added recently sang the song of her people loudly to make sure I wouldn't forget to feed her. After making sure everyone was at the right bowl, I moved to the sink. My hands dripped soap into the sink with small plops, the running water forgotten as a glowing red eye stared at me from the backyard.

It had to be Whiskers’ friend. Maybe a bobcat? It was too far off the ground, though. Bobcat in a tree? I stared at it while my mind puzzled out what I was looking at. My hands itched and I realized I’d been staring so long the soap was drying. I rinsed quickly and grabbed a spare bowl and a can of food.

I sat on the back step while I opened the can. If the sound didn’t lure them closer, the smell of stinky tuna would. Staying low, I set the bowl halfway between my door and the tree line and sat on the stoop.

“Come on, it’s okay.” I spoke softly with a higher tone. Something told me I’d need to pull out all my taming tricks for this one—if it even could be tamed. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. Come eat. I’ll stay right here.”

I got a slow blink for my trouble. The rustle of leaves marked its slow descent to the ground, but the eye reflection was still impossibly high, even for a Maine Coon or Norwegian Forest Cat. Too big even for a bobcat. Could it be a panther?

I stuffed a laugh so I didn’t scare it. I remembered my uncle’s story of seeing a panther in the woods. Only in his southern accent it was p-aa-n-tha. He swore he’d seen it with his own two eyes, but there’d never been a confirmed sighting in Tayki county. Or any of the adjacent counties, for that matter.

Only one eye reflected. Had it lost the other? Poor thing. I couldn’t make out any other details. It never came closer, and the night was too dark, my porch light too dim.

Eventually, I saw the eye disappear, as if the animal turned. The crackle of leaves and snapped twigs marked its departure.

I sighed. “Okay, I’ll try again tomorrow.”

My knees creaked and a grunt helped me stand. I sighed again and retreated to my cold hamburger and watered down drink.

four

I couldn’t stay away.It was wrong and probably creepy for me to stand just out of sight in her backyard and watch her.

She’d come home late and seemed exhausted. What worries did she carry that were weighing her down? Not that I could help her. I would terrify her if I answered her call and came into the light. She would scream and run.

Even if, by some miracle, she didn’t, I was broken. Unworthy of someone so perfect.

I tried to talk myself out of going. I even turned around twice. I just couldn’t force my paws to move toward my house. I told myself that maybe if I saw her again, it would release this tether. This pull toward her I couldn’t seem to overcome.

I had no idea why I felt so possessive of her, wanted to protect her with everything I had. I’d only seen her once.

But she cared for me.

No. Not me.

The animal she thought I was.

That didn’t matter. I had a primal need to ensure she was safe. I would just check on her, make sure she was okay and not missing any other cats.

But when I got there, she wasn’t home. I waited, my eyes trained on her house, until I finally heard her car pull into the drive. I watched as she fed her cats first.

Then she stepped outside.

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