These air purifiers have provided much amusement for Annabelle and Thatch. We’ve been through their re-enactments of “The Queen of Outer Space,” “Forbidden Planet,” and “Robinson Crusoe on Mars.” She’s been humming “The Blue Danube Waltz,” so I’m expecting “2001: A Space Odyssey” any moment
When I turn out the lights for bed, their bright blue operating lights give the whole apartment a mellow blue glow that Annabelle says looks as if we are living under water, so between 10:00 and midnight I’ve had to endure their playing “Beyond the Coral Reef,” “Finding Nemo,” and “Around the World Under the Sea.” There was one film that Thatch refused to play: “Jaws.”
I knew that movie would terrify him. For several days, whenever we watched a movie, she’d suggest “Jaws,” and I ignored her. So, as soon as I left the apartment for several hours, she played the DVD, and Thatch had nightmares for a week. After that, whenever Annabelle began singing John Williams’ theme for the big shark it meant she was sneaking up on him to make him cry. When I learned about this, I blocked her from the SyFy channel and took away her Backstage for a month. As the issues arrived, I tossed them out. She was hopping mad.
You’re being intentionally mean to him, I told her. I warned you the film was too frightening.
It’s funny.
No, it’s mean. You don’t listen to me. I think you turn on the SyFy channel just to see how much you can frighten him.
It’s just a movie. He’s such a baby.
He is a baby . . . who loves you and you’re being deliberately mean to him.
You’re just defending him.
I am not. I won’t let you toy with him like one of your roaches. You’re hurting him.
I’m not.
You were warned, Missy. You don’t listen.
Can we watch “The Exorcist” tonight?
Nope. I’ve removed it and “The Blair Witch Project” from your watch list.
Several days after that, when Annabelle told Thatch that tonight’s game was “Jaws,” he refused. In the past, he’s been happy to go along with whatever she wants to do, since he adores her. Occasionally I’ll watch him do something and think, he’s picked that up from Annabelle. Since he became my little boy, she’s been his big sister, surrogate mother, playmate, and cross to bear.
I don’t want to play “Jaws,” he told her. It’s scary. Let’s play “Flipper.”
That’s for little kids. We’re going to play “Jaws.”
No. I’m scared.
Then I won’t play with you any more.
Annabelle!
No. I won’t play with you any more.
Don’t say that!
Will you play “Jaws”?
It scares me.
Then play by yourself. I don’t need you. I’ll find someone else to help me with my musical. You’re fired.
She started to walk away, and Thatch turned, jumped on her back, and bit her. Hard. She screamed and batted him. Rather than running from her, he threw himself at her and knocked her over. They wrestled violently, kicking and screaming. She threw him aside. He jumped on her back, slid off, and she ran into the linen closet. He was so startled he sat on the floor, totally bewildered. Then he paced in a tight circle before he climbed the cat tree and wept.
I stayed out of it. I thought, this will blow over tomorrow.
But it didn’t.
The next day, they kept a wide distance. When I fed them, Thatch waited until Annabelle finished before he went near their bowls. When I fed the pigeons, Thatch remained in the cat tree while Annabelle joked with them. He stayed under my writing desk or my bed and Annabelle only left the linen closet occasionally. They also avoided me.
That night and the next, after we had all gone to bed, he sat in the window and cried. Then, between the window pane and the blinds, he would stretch himself up on his hind legs to his full height of twenty inches and mew softly and mournfully. Again and again. I finally got out of bed and went to the window.
Thatch, what’s wrong? What do you need? Are you calling for someone?
His face appeared from behind the blinds.
The birds, he whispered. I want them carry me away from here.
What? That would break my heart. Why do you want to go away?
I don’t want to live here any more.
I would miss you so much. Annabelle-
I hate her. She’s selfish. And she’s mean.
Yes, she can be a devil. She and I are too much alike at times. We don’t know when to shut up.
I’d rather live on that Bronx roof in the rain and dodge rocks and starve than be here with her.
I picked him up from the windowsill, carried him to a chair, and held him.
Oh, my little baby! There are things I would protect you from if I only could.
From what?
Well, somethings are beyond my control, like an accident or sickness or death. I try to protect you from hunger and cold, and I do try to keep you and Annabelle safe and comfortable-
Why did she fire me? I love her so much! I thought she loved me.
Ah, little Thatch! That’s the worst of all. Love is the worst because we hurt and then we have to go on living with the pain. I can’t protect you from a broken heart.
It hurts so much.
Oh, yes, it hurts like hell. And it can happen so casually. One day, you think life goes on, and a tune, a thought, a glimpse of something and you find yourself on the floor in a flood of tears. The heart never heals, only waits to be broken again-
My heart hurts.
It never gets easier, Thatch.
I don’t want to be here any more. She hates me.
No, she doesn’t hate you. She spoke without thinking. We both have sharp tongues.
I want the birds to fly away with me.
No, I can’t let you leave-
If you love me, you’ll let me leave.
And that’s as conditional as Annabelle saying to you, if you won’t play, you’re fired. If you really want to leave us, Thatch, I will call the adoption agency and ask them to take you back.
Call them. Now.
I think you need to sleep and see how you feel in the morning. If you still want me to call, I will do that tomorrow. I hope you change your mind.
I can’t stay here.
I think you and Annabelle need to talk this out. If you decide to go because someone you love has disappointed you, you will spend your life running. You’re not a coward; you’re my Ninja Cat.
I’ll miss you, Daddy.
Annabelle?
No.
I put him in the cat tree and went back to bed. I didn’t sleep at all. Since he arrived, a semi-feral little street rat, he was the tough kid craving affection and then running from it. It was clear within the first week that he adored Annabelle and that she loved him, but it took me over a month of nursing him back to health before I gained his trust and affection. It was the greatest Christmas gift I ever received.
In the morning, I dragged Thatch’s carrier from storage and left it conspicuously on my bed. From various parts of the apartment Annabelle and Thatch watched me in silence. The television was the only noise in the apartment while I packed his catnip fish and mice, his Ping-Pong balls, the fishie on a pole, his pith helmet, his deerstalker, his miner cap with the lamp, his Tyrolean cap, his liederhosen, crucifix, and his backpack.
Boy, Thatch, I said, there’s hardly room left for you in here! Can you see if I’ve missed anything? I need to find that phone number.
His adoption papers were in a folder with Annabelle’s, and I kept them in a drawer with my will, apartment leases, health insurance, and other important personal information. Since I’m a slob, it took me a while to find them and to separate his paperwork from Annabelle’s.
Got ‘em! I said to him. I’ll call after Annabelle and I make our daily patrol and pay calls. She can give your goodbyes to everyone in the building.
As soon as we were in the hall and heading for the stairs, Annabelle grabbed my leg.
Okay, what’s going on?
Whatever do you mean? I asked her.
We climbed the stairs to the landing and sat down on the steps.
Thatch. What’s going on?
Always curious, Missy, aren’t you?
Is Thatch sick? Is he going to the vet?
No. Thatch is leaving us. I begged him to stay, but he says he can’t live here if you don’t love him.
I had never seen a tabby cat do a double take before. I had never seen any cat do a double take before. First, Annabelle looked stunned, as if I’d punched her in the face, than she folded up like an accordion onto the steps.
But I do love him! He’s my little brother. I’m his role model. And a good one, too . . .
Well, he’s suffering from a broken heart, and he wants to leave us.
No! This is breaking my heart. He can’t go. I won’t let him. I need him.
You told him you didn’t need him.
I say a lot of things I don’t mean when I’m angry. So do you.
She turned and headed back to the apartment. This will be interesting, I thought. When we entered the apartment, Thatch was sitting next to his carrier. He looked so small and pathetic.
I think I’m ready, he said. You can call now.
Just as soon as I can find the number, I said. I think it’s with your papers.
Annabelle jumped onto the bed, and Thatch backed away from the carrier.
Thatch! Will you talk to me?
No. I don’t want to see you. Ever, ever, ever, ever again.
Daddy says you are going away, and I don’t want you to. Please don’t go. You’re my little brother. Don’t go. Please, Thatch!
I’m going, and you will never hurt me again.
Hurt you? You’re killing me, Thatch! I don’t want to spend every day of my life wondering where you are, if you’re cold, if you’re hungry, if you’re happy, if you’re even alive.
You’ll forget me.
No. You never forget the ones you love. You’re my brother. We’re a team.
Not any more.
Annabelle very slowly moved toward Thatch, but he inched backward with each step she took toward him
Thatch, the day you came here was the happiest day of my life. Please stay. Please. I need you. Daddy needs you.
You don’t need me. You told me so.
Well, I was angry. You wouldn’t play “Jaws” with me . . .
He stopped backing away and faced her.
I don’t want to play “Jaws.” It scares me. You can’t do that. I deserve better. You’re mean and selfish and – and – I loved you so much.
And he folded. He started to cry; the loudest, most heart-rending sobs from this kitten with the soft little voice. Annabelle reached for him and he pulled away.
Aw, Thatch! I was mad, really mad. Daddy took away my Backstage and blocked the SyFy channel for a month.
You fired me.
Well, I was wrong. And I might have apologized but you bit me and started a fight.
You were so mean!
Well, I’m really sorry. I love you. I’ve loved you since Daddy and Val set your carrier on the floor last November.
Really?
You were so small. And scared.
Not any more.
Thatch, you can be mad at someone and still love them with all your heart. Please don’t leave us. Who’s going to help me write my musical? Don’t leave me.
It’s your show.
It’s our show. Some of the best ideas are yours. We’re a team.
Are we still a team?
Forever, and ever, and ever.
Really, really, really?
They hugged and cried while I put Thatch’s adoption papers back in the files. Then I picked up the carrier and unpacked it. Annabelle jumped off the bed and ran to the linen closet. Thatch followed. It had been a long night and a tense morning. I needed a drink. Or two.
All right. Three.
©2018, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 