I DIDN’T REALIZE Loki had decided he wanted to come with us to talk to the purveyor of The Sage Brush until he had jumped down out of the SUV, and was already trotting across the sidewalk to the door. He may be a cat, but he tends to exhibit some very un-catlike behavior. Oftentimes he seems more like a dog than a cat, and other times I swear that he is looking at me with human intelligence. He’s a peculiar creature, but then again, I suppose I don’t fit into the niche society has crafted for me either.
Needless to say, I’d been taken aback when he foreswore the litter box I provided when he first entered my life, but that paled in comparison to the shock I’d experienced when he opted to use the toilet instead. I’d assumed that it was something his previous owners had trained him to do, just as they were the ones who had chosen the name Loki inscribed on the golden tag hanging from his collar. He’d ceased to wear the collar a long time ago, but maintained his refusal to use a litter box. In addition to his peculiar bathroom habits he’d made it quite clear that he wasn’t all that interested in eating kitty kibble, and was far more content to eat whatever I did. Having tried a handful of kibble out of pure curiosity, I couldn’t say that I blamed him. I wouldn’t want to eat that crap either.
Unperturbed by the noise of traffic whizzing by on Colfax, he sauntered to the bright purple door and waited for Holbrook and me to join him. In their SUV parked behind ours, Collins and Hill looked on with matching expressions of bewilderment.
“What does he think he’s doing?” Holbrook asked as he came around to my side of the SUV. From the expression on his face I figured he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be irritated.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied, shrugging as I pushed away from the car to retrieve him. Despite his varied skills, as far as I knew, Loki hadn’t figured out how to work door handles. Yet. I had the feeling that if he ever did I’d be royally screwed.
Gathering him into my arms, I nuzzled the thick fur around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him. “Sorry, buddy. You need to wait in the car.”
I had no doubt that if cats could frown he would have been giving me the most irritated scowl possible when I cradled him against my chest and went back to the car. Usually a laid back kind of guy, I was surprised when he began to squirm like a greased pig in my arms and clawed his way up over my shoulder to jump down to the pavement. Lifting his tail high in the air he strode to the shop’s door, and once again waited for someone to obligingly open it for him.
“Looks like he’s dead set on going in,” I said to Holbrook, rubbing my shoulder where his claws had left a set of throbbing furrows in my flesh.
Sharing a baffled look, we shrugged at one another and approached the store. The door opened with a merry tinkle of bells, and we were greeted by soft Celtic music. In contrast to the steel grey clouds scudding across the sky, the inside of The Sage Brush was warm and airy. The wide, roughhewn wooden planks, worn smooth to a brilliant luster by the passage of many feet over the years, reminded me of home. But rather than filling me with a pang of longing, the familiarity of the place brought a reminiscent smile to my lips. A multitude of crystals, wind chimes, and mobiles hung from the ceiling, the lights overhead shining through them to cast fractured rainbows of light everywhere.
Just inside the door, several sticks of incense were perfuming the air with the decadent scents of sandalwood and patchouli. Brightly colored silks, saris, and tapestries adorned almost every available surface, lending the shop a lush and exotic atmosphere. Combined with the heady fragrance of the incense, I felt as though I had been transported to some faraway land where the sun was blistering hot and the air was forever perfumed with spicy aromas. All the shop needed to complete the appearance of a luxurious Bedouin tent was a mountain of silk pillows and rugs strewn across the floor.
A long wooden counter reminiscent of an old grocer’s, complete with an ancient cast iron register, ran almost the full length of the far wall. Several glass topped display cases sat on the counter with a multitude of necklaces, pendants, rings, and bracelets nestled inside on a bed of black velvet. They looked innocuous enough, but even from across the room I felt the heavy pull of their energy. There were at least two dozen charms on display, some of them quite powerful if their almost hypnotic pull was anything to go by, yet the two figures at the counter didn’t exhibit any signs that they were aware of the effect. One of them was stretched out along the counter’s surface, and was possibly the largest cat I’d ever seen.
I’d always considered Loki to be a large cat—the last time I had wrestled him to the vet he’d clocked out at 22lbs—but he looked small and delicate as a kitten compared to the creature asleep on the counter. A long and bushy pale yellow and white stripped tail twitched as the cat slept, no doubt dreaming of chasing mice. Or, more likely, elephants.