Chapter 1
“Meow.”
Charles opened his eyes.
She was back. Of course she was – she had been there every single day of the past month, waiting for him to get out of bed in the morning.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes before standing up and making his way to the kitchen.
His telepathy worked in weird ways with animals. Since they didn’t exactly form coherent thoughts in a way a human would possibly understand he could only sense the cat in some abstract, confusing way. The “meow” for example – possibly uttered audibly in front of the patio door – made its way right into his sleeping mind, waking him.
He briefly thought about how he wouldn’t need to set an alarm anymore since the cat was never late for their morning ritual and chuckled to himself as he opened the glass door to let the small animal step inside.
At first he had been strictly against feeding her – he wanted to make sure she would leave and go home in the evening –her owners would be worried if she didn’t and he couldn’t possibly imagine that this – for cat standards –fairly well mannered lady didn’t have an actual home.
However, his discipline regarding strict rules for cats in his backyard turned out to be just as strong as his discipline with his students and soon cans of cat food were stacked on top of his fridge as if it was the most normal purchase for him to make.
“Good Morning, Miss, how are we doing today?” A long, pitiful “meow” was the answer. “Hungry, I take it.” Charles shook his head slightly as he picked up the little bowl he had chosen for his visitor to eat from. Immediately, the cat's face lit up and she purred, rubbing herself along the striped fabric of Charles’ Pyjama pants. A smile played along the young professor’s lips as he felt the cat by his feet while he prepared her meal.
Something about the presence of the animal just seemed to be very good for his mood. He had always loved cats but had never quite gotten around to adopting one; his job at the university wasn’t exactly one that gave him a lot of free time – it was only due to the fact that he was on summer break that he spent so much time at home – and he was convinced that if one took on the responsibility of caring for a pet one had to do so wholeheartedly and with time at hand. He simply didn’t want it to be all by itself all day and as long as he lived alone that would be the case – sure, Raven dropped by from time to time, but it wouldn’t exactly be the same.
When the ginger cat had begun showing up every day he had decided to just enjoy his little visitor’s presence as long as it lasted and make her feel welcome. “Is today going to be the day you reveal your true name to me, Nacho?” He said while placing the bowl in its usual place. Hasty chewing was the reply. So probably not. “Nacho” had been what he had called her since their first encounter – he had gone to the bathroom before dinner and upon his return had found the animal on the table, her head submerged into a bowl of cheese nachos. Additionally, in his opinion the color of her fur slightly resembled that of dorito dust – so the name was quite fitting.
He turned on the boiler to make his morning tea and prepared his own breakfast. His mind kept wandering back to the mystery cat and where it might come from. He could tell by the way she behaved that she had definitely once lived with people; she recognized the fridge, the noise of kitchen utensils, and even the makeshift litter box he had made for her the night it was raining so badly he couldn’t bring himself to send her away for the night. But on the other hand she was totally starved when he first began feeding her – he had never seen a cat this hungry – so she definitely hadn’t been fed in a while. So where did she come from? What was he supposed to do with her? He really didn’t know…
Raven kept telling him to take her to the vet. And so she told him again, later the same day, when she came over for dinner. “Why should I take her to the vet? She looks perfectly fine.”, “you know why, Charles,” Raven said, raising her eyebrows at him over her glass of wine.
“She’s not chipped.” He said, leaning back in his chair to make space for Nacho to sit in his lap.
“So she’s not?” Raven replied with a scoff: “how do you know?”,
“I can’t feel anything. I checked.”
“Those things are tiny. You can’t just ‘feel’ them. You need to scan them – the vet can do that.”
Charles fell silent. He didn’t say anything, just absently massaged the cat’s cheek by rubbing the pad of his thumb across the fur below her ear. “Why don’t you just take her there? Even if she turns out not to be chipped, at least you know for sure then.”,
“I can’t go there with her … I don’t have a cat carrier…” Charles mumbled and avoided Raven’s quizzical gaze by staring intently at the little creature in his lap.
Now it was Raven’s turn to fall silent for a while. She knew she wouldn’t convince her brother of anything as long as he was in this state. When he was like that he looked just as he did when they were children. A pouty, know it all little boy – too introverted to speak his mind but too stubborn to do what he was told to do. And Raven was sure she understood why her brother was so strictly against having the cat checked for a chip: “May it be, Charles, that perhaps you don’t want to find out if she is chipped?”
The tips of Charles’ ears went red and he let out a choked little giggle: “Now why would I not want that?” For some reason he seemed to be fascinated by the leftover crumbs on his plate, for he picked up his fork and began stabbing at them.
“I don’t know because maybe – if she turned out to be chipped – you would have to take her home to her rightful owners, and you don’t have it in you to do that. You’re too fond of the little darling.”
Charles raised his eyebrows at her “that’s not true – if she had a home I would do my utmost to have her back there!” Raven didn’t need to be a telepath to see that that was a blatant lie. She chuckled and shook her head. “Whatever you say…”
“You could also try and find her owner via your telepathy.” Raven continued after another moment of silence.
“No, I can’t,” Charles replied, visibly outraged by the suggestion: “it would require me to go past the surface thoughts of the people in this neighborhood. It would require for me to violate their privacy in a rude and inappropriate way. I have sworn to myself to never use my mutation recklessly and I intend to keep my word.”
Raven sighed. She didn’t want to start another debate about Charles being too hard on himself regarding his mutation. They already had enough to discuss and she didn’t intend to vex him any further tonight.
“All I’m saying is” She watched Charles sneak a piece of ham from the platter in the middle of the table and (very inconspicuously) let it fall towards the cat. “If you keep spoiling her like that she won’t ever leave you alone.” The blush spread from her brother’s ears to his face and he gave her a little frown “As your presence at this table sufficiently demonstrates.” He replied. Raven giggled at that. Charles couldn’t help but join. “To our new sister, then.” She said, raising her glass. Charles raised his in return “I suppose so.” Their glasses met with a clinking sound and they drank. When their eyes met again Raven tried one last time: “But please do take her to the vet.”, “Will do.”