Nothing speaks louder than the bright green face of several President Franklins now staring up at me from my desk. The door to my closet-sized office reads Demi-Goddess for hire. With the recently realized knowledge that magical beings of all varieties are openly living among humans, you would think business would be booming. Maybe it is my sign? I painted it myself.
“Well, Mrs. Escobar… I do not typically look for missing cats, but you have convinced me.” I said grinning from ear to ear. I noticed that she has not taken a seat yet and is staring around my office at the piles of interesting items. What?! Who has time to clean? I have to stay busy to pay the bills. Past due bills; which is why her money is screaming my name right now.
“Senior Cuddly whiskers is not just a cat. He’s been my only love since my husband passed last year. He…” She breaks off with a sob.
“No worries Mrs. Escobar. The Senior is in good hands.” I say as I reach over to pluck a short white hair off of her impeccable two-piece suit. “Do you mind? This looks feline and it is just what I need to get the search started.”
She nods quickly at me, turning to leave.
“Wait,” I say stumbling to stand before, she can depart.
Mrs. Escobar turns back around, handing me a very posh-looking business card with just an address in a black glossy fine print. “This is the studio apartment I rent just for Senior Cuddly Whiskers. Start there. If you return him before the sun goes down today, there will be more cash waiting for you. ” And she silently turns once more, walking out, taking her hoity-toity airs with her.
What is the world coming to nowadays? Cats can have their studio apartments and in Belltown no less. I guess that is the Seattle elite for you. Sundown is only a few hours away. I grab the timetable for bus route #18 as I race through my cozy warehouse loft in Ballard. It is not much, but it is home. And because the cost of living will cost both your arms and legs, it is also my place of freelance investigations.
Lost your priceless family heirloom? Can’t get the proof that they are cheating? Are you being hexed? Well, look no further! Demi-Goddess for hire. Or at least that is what I am advertising on my back alley flyers floating around town. Ugh. And now I am literally about to herd a cat if I can find the Senior in time. Easiest money ever said no one.
Seattle weather. It does not rain as much as the tourists like to go on and on about. Not now, in the middle of June, anyway. It has been a hot minute without those misty mornings where it feels like the ocean is kissing everything. I look up from my lumpy bus seat to read the illuminated sign stating the next bus stop. The conductor comes on the overhead speaker to read the next stop. “3rd and Bell” That is me. The Senior’s apartment is still a couple of blocks away, but at least it is a nice day.
“Onward,” I say, getting a few looks from other departing passengers.
About a block from the address, I reach into my messenger bag for the pre-made concoction I have just for these lost and found situations. Google. Who knew half that stuff worked when you can wield magic. The internet has mostly been my teacher since my dad never came back from that infamous cigarette run 31 years ago. My mom is still in the institute for the insane. Turns out, when humans are with magical beings, they can lose their minds. I like to think my dad was that good.
“Allioop!” I whisper to myself as I drop the cat hair into the bag holding my concoction and begin to shake it. I do not know if this kind of thing needs magic words, but it cannot hurt. A line of magenta smoke begins to appear. I am pretty sure humans cannot see this line of smoke as several people have walked through it and no one seems bothered. I can see it though. Fuzzy and clear at the same time if that makes any sense. I began to follow the line that is originating from the little bag in my hand. I realize that people can see me holding out this little bag as if it is leading me forward.
“Hey, I’m walking here,” I say to one businessman on his cell phone giving me the stink eye. Muggles. They do not believe in anything.
The red hand appears on the traffic light across the street. Paused at the intersection, I think about how If I were amazing in my magical skills, no red hand would illuminate for me ever again. But Dad just did not get to the part where I was out of the womb before he could explain how my half-magical-self works. A green man walking appears and before I can start across the street, the smoke turns blue and makes a sharp turn to the left. Senior is on the move! I pick up the pace, getting more looks from the locals. I have now reached the posh part of Belltown headed directly for the Olympic Sculpture Park.
I run up a set of long stairs. I need to start running again. I feel more out of breath than I should be at this age. The line of smoke stops as if it is thinking. “Hey man, think later, the sun waits for no one,” I say as if the smoke could hear or even respond. However, if smoke could shrug, then this is what the smoke did before settling on a weird combo of blue and magenta, shaping it to a question mark. Well, I broke the smoke. “Fudgesicles”, I say frustrated, wishing I had spent a little cash on a guaranteed finder spell versus digging through the ad-riddled websites in search of the free ones.
“Oh, did you bring any?” a disembodied voice says to me. I turn around quickly as lightning. Up, down, all around. I cannot find the owner of that enchanting voice. I smell glamor.
“Up here fool!” says a pair of eyes floating above a silver sculpture in the shape of a rather fancy but giant bench. Fool? I am the smartest Demi-Goddess I know.
“What did you say to me random floating eyes of despair?” I quip back at the seriously awesome pair of eyes just blinking down at me. I cannot let him know that though. Stay strong.
“Ha! You would be in great despair as well if your human servant had tried to force clothes on you. I am taking a much-needed break.” His head and body begin to become visible and it is now clear that I am in the presence of a magical creature. A Cheshire cat. A beautiful all-white Cheshire cat adorned with a fancy diamond encrusted collar and a mini sideways affixed top hat. SCW is visibly written on a tag hanging from his collar.
“Your human servant would not be called Escobar, by chance, would she?” I say with chagrin. Easy money after all.
“Maybe so, maybe not. It is not my business what humans refer to themselves. I simply require the comforts of life without the drama. Now keep me waiting no more. I heard you yell out food I know to be sweet. Hand it over now, human.” He unfurls a paw in my direction, nicely painted nails with diamond attachments on the tip of each claw.
“Human? Is your nose broken as well as your manners? Demi-goddess here to take you home safely to your human servant. Come down here now.” I say with more demand in my voice than I intended. Magical creatures are cute, but they are not whimsical. There are as dangerous as wondrous, even if this one appears to be tamed. I am going to need to bribe this one home. Lucky me.
“Is that so?” His grin triples in size as his body begins to fade, leaving just those eyes and now, a very creepy grin. “May the odds be ever in your favor little Demi-Goddess.” And with a pop, there is nothing but air circulating the very spot where the Senior had been floating only seconds ago. The game is now afoot.
I conduct a quick google search on my phone. Sunset is scheduled for 9:01 pm. Thank you for the long summer days. It is 7:15 pm now. Curses. Why did Mrs. Escobar take so long to employ me? I do understand the need for a Cheshire cat to be indoors before sundown though. The darkness does something to their personality. What is once considered simply mischievous can turn quickly downright evil. And yet, being inside remedies this? “Magic,” I say shrugging. Well, this job is going to cost me money after all. “To the Belltown quickie mart”, I say to no one secretly hoping the Senior wants to follow out of curiosity. What is that saying about curiosity and cats?
“That will be $9.36, ma’am.” The very tired cashier drawls out to me while bagging my several very sweet selections. I do not know what is more offensive; the inflation on snacks in Seattle or calling my very young self a ma’am.
“Ah, thanks. Keep the change.” I say sheepishly knowing it is not much of a tip but I am not a fan of loose change at the bottom of my bag. I run out of the store, headed back to that bench statue, in case the Senior did not catch my hint to follow. Left. Right. Up. No sign of that pesky beast. I probably should not sit on the sculpture, but then again, why make a bench if you do not want sitters?
Plopped down on the not so comfy bench now, I reach into my bag of goods for a snickers bar. My phone’s screen suddenly comes to life and reveals that I have lost at least thirty minutes on that little trip to snacksville. Oh well. I look at the snickers in my hand and think, why wait? All the commercials tell me to just dig in. I tear into it ravenously. Pulling the wrapper out of my mouth, I realize, I have an audience.
“Mmmmmm. Caramel-wrapped nugget covered in a layer of peanuts and surrounded by chocolate. mmmmmmmmmmmmmm. So heavenly.” I lick my fingers and from the corner of my eye, I see a diamond-clad claw swiping for the remainder of my candy bar. “Nut-hu Senior! You have to be faster than that.” I slide off the outlandishly large bench and make a run for it. I passed his studio Belltown apartment on the way here, so I know the direction I want him to follow. The trick is getting him there without him getting wise to my scheme. I turn left, the opposite direction of my goal, but I have time. I look over my shoulder. He is gone again. Or at least not visible.
“I guess you did not want any of my sweets then,” I say to the silent air surrounding me. I shake the bag and just his cat head pops back into existence, floating in front of me.
“I did not say that little Demi-goddess. But I would be interested in what else is in the bag before you so rudely depart again.” His paw appears once more and he is reaching for my bag, palm face up as if I am going to give in to his demand simply because he made one.
“I am not a human nor a servant. What do you offer me in exchange Senior? You can not get something for nothing, ya know.” I wink at him as pull out the king-sized Reese’s cup. Cheshire cats love games. Well, here we go.
“Peanut butter? Ugh. Do I look like a canine?” He rolls his eyes, but his gaze falls right back onto the Reese’s cup packaging. I think someone does like peanut butter.
“That is a shame. I guess I shall go find someone else who wants my candy.” I begin to turn. “Wait. What do you want?” He asks, adding a hint of a cat-like pur to the end.
“If you can catch me, I will tell you!” I click my heels together engaging a prepared speed spell on my shoes and I take off. Good. If I can keep him interested long enough to follow me to his place before sunset, the cat will be in the bag. So to speak. I am the smartest Demi-goddess I know after all.
He has vanished again, but this time I can see that my smoke has reactivated and appears to be chasing me from my own messenger bag. That has to be the Senior, hot on my trail. I turn right. I can see the Space Needle now. It always cracks me up when a tourist asks me how to find the Space Needle. Simply look up and walk towards it. Maybe he will think I am headed there.
“I hope you like water because I love running through the giant Seattle Center fountain”, I yell over my shoulder. The smoke slows a little. What? Cats do not like water? Shocker. “Guess we will find out if you like the fountain too”. I say laughing as I pick up speed. The smoke suddenly comes to a complete stop and dissipates. Now also stopped and catching my breath, I look to see if I can find any traces of the smoke. I know the Senior needs to become visible to grab anything. Then I see the horror. A giant slash mark on the cheap plastic grocery bag of candy. As well as the trail of candy I have just left on my effort to escape.
“Hey! That’s cheating.” I scream to the sky. A woman grabs her child closer as they pass me on the sidewalk. I sigh in frustration. I raise my phone and the happy ocean background shows me that I am now down to forty-five minutes left before sunset. There is no incentive to follow me now. The Senior has the goods. As if to prove my suspicion, cat claws appear floating in front of me, holding half of an eaten Reese’s cup.
“I suppose this is more delicious since I got something for nothing, little Demi-goddess”, he says while two large eyes appear, staring down into my soul.
I reach into my candy bag hoping for some ace in the hole. The only hole is right there though. At the bottom of the flimsy grocery bag, revealing that it holds nothing now that it has lost its ability to hold anything. Think. What else could he want?
“Well, I guess I should head home then. The place where my freezer holds my collection of fudge pops.” I say casually as I begin to walk straight to the Senior's studio apartment. I see his now visible body floating behind me.
“Collection you say? Do not keep me waiting little Demi-goddess. Lead the..” I cut him off. “No cat. Stay here. I have grown tired of your demands.” I snap, trying not to grin. I must look upset that he has cheated me. Plus, it is the only way a defiant magical creature is going to follow me now. I doubt he hears no very frequently. I pick up the pace because I can now see the sun moving closer to the horizon. I look around to see only a darkening sky but no cat, or cat parts. I hope this works.
I race into his building, taking two stair steps at a time. I do not have time for the elevator. The magic must have run out on my smoke because I was hoping to at least see if he was following. There is nothing. I reach his door, quickly turning the knob. I let myself inside. Mrs. Escobar is standing in the living room near a coffee table. Oh look, President Franklin’s face is staring up at me again, in triplicate. But before I can say anything, an enchanting voice from my shoulder grabs my attention.
“Silly Demi-goddess. This is my place. Not yours.” Chagrin painted on the grin of a very satisfied Cheshire Cat.
“Senior Cuddly Whiskers, darling, did you enjoy today’s game?” Mrs. Escobar says to the smile floating above my shoulder. What is going on here? My jaw has hit the floor as I realize that I was hired to entertain a bored cat.
“Yes. Quite the energetic one today Sylvia.” The bored cat says as his body becomes completely visible creating a slight weight on my shoulder. I begin to shake him off of me but he has already started to float to Mrs. Escobar. “This little Demi-Goddess was well worth the money.”
I reach for the remaining cash. I am not even sure what I want to say, so I point to the door like, hey, exit is this way. Mrs. Escobar nods at me and I turn to leave.
“Bye Felisha”, the Senior quips at me one last time before I depart this crazy scene. I turn to them both and say, “No. it’s Amber. Amber Morgan. Demi-Goddess for hire”.
The End
