It is raining Thursday morning, quiet thunder in the distance. The sky the night before had a tension that Travis could feel in his skin when he went out riding. When he got back, he stood on the stoop to have one last cigarette before bed and watched the clouds sparkle with electricity in the darkness. Travis settled into bed very aware of the emptiness of the apartment. Absynthe took up a vigilance by his feet, a little black spot at the end of the bed that Travis could barely make out but for his purring. He was glad to have it, even given what the cost in the morning would be.

When he wakes up, his clock is blinking—the result of a power outage. Lazily, Travis rolls over on his other side, shoving Absynthe over. The cat just stretches its body into a long arc and yawns. But after a few minutes of yellow eyes blinking in the gray light, and a few smacks of the tongue, the screaming begins. Absynthe sits up straight, almost looking proud, and releases a high-pitched howl.

“Oh Jesus,” Travis says and jams his head under the pillow. His voice muffled, he yells at the cat, “Shut up!” And he just hides. He can never be sure if the cries are like a wolf’s howl in despair or the joy of a cock’s crow. Travis peeks his head out from underneath the pillow only to find that Absynthe is right there. As soon as he looks, the kitten is in his face, screaming with kitten breath. Aghast, Travis jams his head back under the pillow and pulls it down on himself.

Finally, Travis sits up and picks up the cat underneath its forelegs and holds it out at a distance like a soiled baby. Absynthe absently looks at Travis and around the room, his screaming unabated. “Money?” Travis asks. “Do you want money? Just say it. It’s yours. As much as you want!”

“Eeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

Absynthe’s baby teeth show white from underneath his black furry lips that pull back as his jaw opens wide and his tongue rolls out its full length.

“Eeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

“Christ. You’re impossible.” Travis drops the cat to the floor where it immediately dashes into the living room ahead of Travis, suspecting breakfast, its screams dropping in pitch with a Doppler effect as it goes. “I thought this was Nick’s curse. What the hell did I do to deserve this?” he asks out loud and makes his way to the kitchen where Absynthe sits patiently beneath the sink, screaming. “Shut up,” Travis says without emotion as he enters the kitchen.

Reaching in to the cabinet underneath the sink, Travis fetches cat food. Absynthe sniffs it, and sits on his haunches, screaming at the food now. “It’s just a phase,” Travis says, imitating Nick’s motherliness. He puts his hands on his face and dances in front of Absynthe. “Oh look!” he cries, “The cat’s screaming again. How cuuuuute!” He stands up straight and watches Absynthe rear his head back and yowl with increased volume. “It better just be a fucking phase. Or your dead.”

As Travis pours the last of his milk on some cereal though, Absynthe stops his racket and begins eating quietly, purring. Travis shakes his head in disbelief of the quiet and takes his cereal into the living room where the television reveals nothing but static on all fifty-two channels. He’s unsurprised. Rain frequently knocked out the cable. He turns and opens the window shades and pulls the armchair over in front of the world. Eating his breakfast, he watches his neighbors scurry to work through the rain. They run with umbrellas and newspapers over their heads as the sky above them thunders. On occasion Travis gleefully spies an act of folly as one of his neighbors soaks their shoe, stumbling into a deep puddle or tripping in a hurry to get to their car. Their mistakes, of course, illicit obnoxious laughs from Travis in his velvet throne, his mouth full of oats and milk. The whole of industrial society is his comedy hour.

Read the whole thread: Carousel Cowboy

Characters and Places: Animals, early morning, screaming, Travis Fleeting