soft magics

There were kittens everywhere. Crawling over armchairs and scaling bookshelves and popping tiny kitten heads out from behind doors and under beds. Gray kittens and white kittens and orange kittens and black kittens. Patterned kittens, in tortoiseshell and patchwork and tiger stripe and paint splotch. Purebred kittens, with pedigrees and lineages, from the finest schools. Street kittens, with chips on their shoulders and no breeding, but hearts of scrappy gold. Tiny kittens and giant kittens. Skinny kittens and fat kittens. Kittens sleeping and running and pouncing and meowing and stalking and scratching and dancing and eating and planning and dreaming. Kittens everywhere.

Kacey was a dog person. She’d grown up with dogs, liked their loyalty, their playfulness, the way they looked at her with nothing but pure adoration in their eyes. She still had a photo album back at her house that was filled with snapshots of all her old dogs, from Goldie to Snappers to Goldie Jr. She’d pull it out on autumn days when she was feeling nostalgic and remember the good times she’d had with her pups. But she wasn’t at her house now; she was at her aunt Gretchen’s, and Gretchen was most definitely a cat person.

Kacey stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her, nearly catching a tabby in the doorway. She brushed past the brocade couch and felt Siamese paws grab at her skirt. She gingerly stepped around the chipped wood coffee table where a giant Maine coon sprawled, halfway falling off. Two twin calicos watched her from the top of the china cabinet, their green eyes blinking in unison.

Aunt Gretchen was sitting in the kitchen, playing solitaire and drinking lemon tea that smelled like whiskey. A Russian Blue rubbed against her legs and purred as she flipped the ace of clubs over.

“Hey Auntie. How’s Tuesday treating you?” Kacey dropped her bag by the kitchen table. Three white strays immediately ran over to inspect it.

“Same as always, which is nothing to complain about. Pour yourself a drink, sweetie. I’m almost done here.” Aunt Gretchen didn’t look up as she gestured to the cabinet where she kept the tea bags and the liquor. Kacey grabbed a mug and a bag of English Breakfast. She left the whiskey where it was. A black and white tabby peeked through the half-finished bottle of Jack from the other side, the glass distorting its oversized head, making its already huge kitten eyes immense. Kacey closed the cabinet.

As Kacey put the water on to boil, Aunt Gretchen kept at her cards, alternately mumbling to herself and throwing out conversation to her niece.

“How’s your mum doing? Been to the doctor yet?”

“No. She’s okay. I told her what you said, but… She says she’s okay.”

Aunt Gretchen let out a sad sigh. The Persian on her lap also let out a sad sigh.

“That woman’s stubborn. You know it as well as I do. She won’t listen to anything but doctors and science, but still, you just have to keep hoping.”

“I’ll keep at her, Auntie. Don’t worry.” The teakettle sang out in a tone like a high purr. Kacey lifted it off the stove and poured her mug three-quarters full, leaving just enough room for an ice cube. A Himalayan and a hairless Sphynx sat curled around each other, on top of the refrigerator. When she walked over, the Himalyan was kind enough to open the freezer door for her with its paw.

“And your sister? How’s she?” Kacey shrugged, though her aunt didn’t see it. The Sphynx reached a six-fingered paw out and closed the freezer door.

“I haven’t heard from her in, ah, two months now, I guess.” Kacey pulled a chair out from the table, brushed off the jet-black kitten with the missing ear from the seat, and sat down. “We kind of got into it over the holidays.”

“I thought as much,” Gretchen said, turning over an ace of diamonds. “The cards never lie.”

Kacey sipped her tea and watched her aunt lay down the cards in neat rows. Ace of diamonds on ace of spades. Ten of clubs on six of hearts. Eleven of ill-conceived wishes on thirteen of kittens. Gretchen’s deck was new every time.

“What game are you playing this week?” Kacey asked as the Turkish Angora in the chair across the table mouthed her words back at her as she said them. Kacey thought how much she missed Goldie and Snappers and Goldie Jr. Her dogs would never have been so presumptuous, so rude.

“It’s a prayer for the future, dear. For your sister’s well being.” She flipped the top card over, to the two of hearts. “I think she’s coming home.”

“That would be nice, I guess,” Kacey said, taking another sip of her tea. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Abby coming home. She loved her sister, but she was so difficult, so much work… Kacey closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

“Aunt Gretchen?” she asked, not opening her eyes. “Why kittens?”

Gretchen clucked her tongue at the question and Kacey could hear the deck being shuffled. She opened her eyes and watched a Korat stack the cards into a neat pile.

“You need something loyal and smart,” Gretchen answered, picking up the deck again. "Something full of energy but easily managed.” She placed the deck on the table and tapped it. “But really, I think I just like how fluffy they are.”

Kacey looked over to Gretchen, and her aunt looked back at her with bright green eyes. She pushed the cards toward Kacey and shrugged.

“You can pick whatever you like, when it comes down to it. When you’re done with your lessons, and ready to hang your shingle out. But I like kittens the best of all.”

Kacey picked up the deck and cut it three times. Aunt Gretchen began explaining the cards to her in low tones, the same lesson she’d heard before, which card meant good fortune, which card signaled trouble, how to read the face and position. Underneath the table kittens brushed against her ankles and purred under her chair and danced in a circle on their hind legs. Kacey began to deal, and thought about all the puppies she would have someday. Puppies everywhere. She placed the first card and dealt out her future.