The Beast

The Beast not only had the best cat name ever but he lived his moniker. A young man cat, his life was all adventure. I can fight, run fast, climb high, jump and by god I think I can fly. Oh, he was black. Old Nana lived with us, her brain was broken and the fog of years settled over her. The boy cats took care of her, Harold the old warrior and the young Beast were always at her lap. Old Nana said, "Cats, cats, cats." Harold was scarred and scabby, the Beast lean and strong but they slept together like lovers while Nana stroked them for hours. Beast started wondering where I went everyday. He loved hiding in cars. As you drove down the street out he'd pop and ask "are we going on an adventure?" "No dummy," I'd tell him. "Only to the store." One morning I drove downtown to my crummy job in a dirty warehouse and as I walked away I saw a black beast jump from my window and scurry into the city. "Hey dummy." I shouted after him. "I leave at five, come back if you want to stay alive." Beast finally had his big adventure. At night I'd dream of his life on the streets. Maybe he was an alley ratter or befriended a wealthy banker or maybe he was squashed under a metro bus. I saved my money from that crummy job and bought a ticket to the paradise of my own adventure.