Times like this I wish I owned a ladder. I'm looking that trunk up and down, all warped and wrinkled. Dara's poking me, telling me to go up and get it. I tell her I'm thinking, but she pokes me in the ribs, sneers and jabs the air with her index finger.
Its trunk is bowed, so that makes the first part easy, and there's enough broken bark I got hand holds and foot holds. I make it up to the branch Tabitha's stuck on, almost falling off twice. Cat's fur rises soon as I look at it. I know how it feels.
I figured it was gonna be a pain. I suck it up, grab the cat. It's yowling and hissing. I pin it to my chest, where it's clawing deep. Too much to hope it was declawed. Dumb cat doesn't realize we're in it together. If I fall, it falls. Keeps digging in and piercing me, and I wanna drop it. Feels like a thousand paper cuts all over.
Dara yells up to be careful. I yell back the cat's not the one to worry about. I can't tell if the warm wet pain all over my chest is the cat peeing in my wounds, my blood or both.
I get down without falling. Cat flies outta my hands, goes to Syesha's arms. She's hugging it, it's not fighting her. Dara says she knew I could do it. I touch my shredded shirt, smell it. Only blood, thank God almighty. I guess it was worth it.
We walk Syesha home. She's clutching the cat like a doll, not letting go. Finally, she leads us to an abandoned building. There's a junkie laid out on the front stoop, completely blanked out. He wakes up long enough to try to ask us for money, but passes out before he finishes the thought.
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