Syesha (One of Five)

Miz Becca came by again, asking after Fluffers. She brought me some cornflowers in a glass vase, said it was too dark in the office, some blue would liven it up. She sat down and we started talking about pets. Miz Becca loved that cat more than anything, said she'd been kinda lonely since she lost Fluffers. I told her I understood, that she shoulda gotten a dog. Me, I'm a dog person. Dogs'll love you till the day they die. They're great. They play with you, they're everything kids should be. Cats are just mean. Put it this way, if animals were people, all dogs ain't slobs, but all cats are dames.

I also told her if she wanted, we could go down to the pound one Sunday, look at the dogs, and cats if she wanted, pick one out. She started smiling. She said that maybe after she got the dog, she could let go of Fluffers. It's killing me, having to tell her every week that cat ain't coming back. But I understand, it's hard to let go of things you love.

Reminds me of one time, I was sitting in the office reading the paper. Dara's typing away on her computer doing some homework. There's some real soft knocking at the door. Dara goes to the door, and this little kid, couldn'ta been more than 6 or 7, she's standing there, snot bubbling out of her nose. Her shoelaces are untied, but the laces are knotted together, like they wore out and someone tied em back together. Her toe and pink sock are sticking out the left shoe. She's wearing jean shorts and a red polo shirt too big for her. The cuffs on the pants reach down below the shoes. She's still got one of them baby faces makes kids all look the same, big eyes and cheeks, like a cartoon. Midnight black hair, it's braided back, big purple beads everywhere.

She sees me, and she rushes back into the hallway. I got that effect on kids. Plenty of reasons they call me “Brutal” in the ring and not “Kid Beautiful”. Boxing's the sweet science, but it ain't great for your mug.

Dara brings her back inside, holding her hand, keeping her calm. Asks her name, and she says Syesha. Says her cat's stuck in a tree, can I help her get it down. I tell her that maybe she should call the fire department, cause there's only one tree tall enough nearby to cause that problem. That tree, I call it Rickets, cause it's all bowed over at the bottom, real rickety on the top. Gotta be around 10,000 years old [Two to three hundred years is perhaps more conservative and more realistic. -Dara]. It's gonna be dangerous. At least the fire department got ladders.