“What about me?” someone squeaks. “Does the bunny get a vote?”
“Hold on, Thumper,” says the orange cat. “This clearly is a job for a higher feline intellect.”
“No!” A sharp voice rises above the din. “Listen to Bob. He’s annoying. And his hygiene leaves a lot to be desired. But I’ve seen him get himself out of all kinds of scrapes.”
“Thanks for the props, Snick,” I say. “Especially the kind words about my odor.”
The wind groans, and something metallic hits the side of the building. We fall silent again, waiting for more.
The windows rattle. The walls shudder. It’s like the building is as scared as the rest of us.
“So,” Snickers says, breaking the gloom, “you heard Bob. Start stacking!”
“How about my litter box?” asks a small, white cat with dark green eyes. “Would that work?”
“Sure,” I say. “Use anything. The goal is to get as high as you can.”
“And then what?” asks a young dachshund.
“Worst case, we swim for it,” I say.
“That’s actually not the worst case,” says the bunny.
No one asks what is. We already know.
a question
We do all we can do. Which isn’t much.
The rain hammers. The wind shrieks. Sirens come and go in the distance.
I wonder what Ivan and Ruby are doing. And what about George and Julia? Where are they? How are they?
Boss seems scary calm. Tough as old jerky. She looks the way I want to feel.
Before long, the water is lapping onto the floor of our cages. It’s ice-cold. And moving quick. One inch, two.
Every now and then someone whimpers or moans. But mostly, we’re quiet.
“If you can stand on your hind legs, guys, do it. Climb on anything you got,” I suggest.
I turn to Boss. “When I say go, I want you to climb on my back. It’ll buy you a little time, maybe.”
“No way.”
“Please. I need to do this.”
Boss just stares at me. She’s so thin. I can see every rib.
“To make it up to you,” I add.
“What are you even talking about, Bob?”
I look away. “I’m sorry,” I say, not sure where my words are taking me. “I could’ve . . . I should’ve saved you, Boss.”
“Saved me?”
“The thing is . . . I heard you on the highway. And I should’ve—”
My voice trails off. I stifle a sob.
“Bob, we were puppies. Tiny puppies. Don’t be ridiculous. How exactly were you going to save me?”
“I dunno. But I should have tried.”
“We both did what we had to do.” Boss nudges me gently. “Bob. This is crazy.”
“I just . . . I can’t seem to forgive myself.” I whisper it, but I know she hears me.
Beneath the water, I feel a paw on mine. “I forgive you. Okay? Not that you need it, mind you. One condition, though.”
I nod, wait.
“You have to forgive yourself, too.”
Again I nod, and slowly but surely something fine and warm begins to fill my heart.
romeo
Before I can say anything more, Snickers calls my name. “Bob, dear? There’s something I want you to know.”
Boss winks at me. “Listen up, brother.”
“Um, sure, Snickers,” I call. “What’s up?”
“Ahem.” Snickers makes a little throat-clearing noise. “I’ve kept this locked inside me all this time, but now, facing the end, I feel the need to unburden myself.”
“Really, Snick,” I say quickly, “there’s no need for that.”
“The thing is”—Snickers pauses for dramatic effect—“I love you, Bob. I always have. I love the way your cute little tail gets all curled between your legs when you’re embarrassed. I love the way you hum to yourself when you chew your kibble. I love the way you drool when you take a nap. I love—”
“I think I’m gettin’ the picture, Snick. Thanks. That’s awfully nice of you to say.”
“And?” Snickers says.
Boss can’t hide her amusement. “Go ahead, Bob,” she whispers. “What can it hurt? We’re all gonna die, anyway.”
“Bobbo?” Snickers calls.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, sure. I, uh, think you’re pretty swell, too, Snick.”
“And what is it that you love about me?”
I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. “Well, um, those pink boots of yours, those are cool.”
“And?”
I swear I’m trying, but I’m totally drawing a blank. In fairness, the water’s up to my belly and my teeth are chattering so loud I can’t hear myself think.
“And, uh . . . ,” I begin.
“Oh, c’mon, how hard is it?” yells the bunny, who’s perched on a pile of wet timothy hay. “She’s a looker and she’s smart and she’s way too good for the likes of you. Try that, Romeo.”
“You’re a looker and you’re smart and you’re way too good for the likes of me,” I repeat.
Snickers lets out a contented sigh.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Boss asks.
I groan. “Sis, you have no idea.”
an interesting life
An awful noise comes, like a tree trunk splitting in two. While we watch in disbelief, a piece of the roof, the size of a Great Dane, simply vanishes. Rain gushes through the hole in torrents.
“Boss,” I say, “it’s time. Jump on my back.”
“And that’s a good idea because . . . why, exactly?”
“Because maybe you’ll get your turn,” I say. “Your chance to have things go your way. I’ve had an interesting life. I want you to have one, too.”
“Bob, at best you’re buying me a couple extra minutes,” Boss says.
“Sis.”
“I’m like thirty seconds older than you. You’re not the boss of me.”
“Please?”
“Why? Just because you’re a guy? I could take you down in a second with three paws tied behind my back.”
“And if you get outa here and I don’t?” I continue, ignoring her. “There’s a place I want you to go. Sit on the front porch. Wait for the humans who live there.”
“Who are you kidding, Bob? We’re both about to die.”
“Three blocks up, four houses down on the left. Look for a big oak tree. Guy named Nutwit lives there.”
“Nutwit.” She’s suppressing a smile.
“Say it,” I command.
“Fine. Whatever. Three blocks up. Four houses down. Nutwit.”
We go back and forth like that, arguing, bantering, trying not to hear the terror of our cagemates, and I think maybe I’m starting to hallucinate a little. I’m starving and freezing and I feel kinda dizzy. All the smells and sounds are mingling together, and, crazy as it seems, I actually think I catch a whiff of Ivan.
Well, that’s kinda cool, I think. At least I’ll be remembering my best buddy when I die.