“Jesus. I’m sorry.”
I wondered if that loss explained, at least in part, the reason for the massive tattoo. Though I was hard-pressed to believe it was the sole source of trauma behind the design. There was too much to it—too much darkness, too much destruction, too much life set out of reach in the background. Even though there was an inference of healing, it felt like the fire won out, consuming quicker than hope could repair the damage.
Tenley shrugged, eyes downcast. I could see I had touched on her pain. I needed to remember not to push, because frightened kittens ran and angry ones had claws. It was a precarious balance. With the impending sessions, I had time to flush out her secrets.
“Hold on.” She held up a hand, a warning for me to stay put, and dropped into a crouch at the base of the stairs. I took a step toward her, worried I upset her, but she gave a quick shake of her head and lowered her messenger bag to the ground. “It’s okay,” she cooed, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.
I saw, then, what had caught her attention. A tiny orange-and-white kitten with oversized feet padded out from the shadows of the garbage can and tentatively sniffed her fingers.
“What are you doing out here, kitty?” She waited patiently while the kitten sniffed her out. When it didn’t bolt, Tenley scratched under its chin and it nuzzled at her hand, allowing her to scoop it up. It looked far too young to be wandering around outside, considering the cool temperature and the late hour.
“She doesn’t even have a tag.” Tenley cradled it in her arms and fussed with it some more, rubbing her nose over its head.
I peered down at the tiny thing. When I tried to pet it, it let out the most ridiculous mew and swatted at my hand. “What’s wrong with its feet?” I asked. They were probably the same size as the kitten’s head.
Tenley inspected the paw hanging over the side of her hand. She gently fingered the pad, splaying its toes and breaking out into a huge grin. It was the most authentic smile I had seen on her yet.
“She’s polydactyl.”
“Since when are cats descendants of dinosaurs?”
She laughed. “It means they have extra toes. This little girl looks like she has opposable thumbs.” She rubbed the top of the kitten’s oversized paws.
“Huh, well that’s weird.” I watched her loving the hell out of her fuzzy little soul mate. “You should take her home then, yeah? She won’t survive out here.”
Tenley nodded in agreement and tucked the striped bundle into her chest. I picked up her messenger bag.
“I’ll just help you get her up to your apartment, then.”
“My keys are in the front pocket.” She pointed to the zipper on the front flap.
I held it out, feeling awkward as she rooted around while the kitten mewed its head off and tried to scale her shoulder.
“I’ll get them.” I shoved my hand into the pocket and wrapped my fist around her keys.
Tenley pointed out the one that unlocked the back door, and I followed her up the stairs. At the top I tried the door to her apartment, but the lock wouldn’t turn.
“It gets sticky sometimes. Can you take her for a second?”
I molded my palms to the underside of her hands and she slowly separated hers so as not to jostle her new pet. It nipped at my thumb and gave me a disgruntled meow as it kneaded at my skin with its tiny, sharp claws. The last time I held a cat was the night my parents died.
“It’s okay, you’re safe.” I patted the kitten.
Tenley fiddled with the key and the door finally opened. She ushered me inside and locked it behind her. I looked around as she took off her shoes and hung her bag on one of the hooks by the door. The furniture was a mix of antiques and the kind of modern stuff one would find in a student apartment. Nothing really went together. There were books and papers scattered all over the coffee table and a blanket on the floor by the couch. I wanted to clean things up, so I looked away.
On the wall to my right were several pieces of art. Based on the content, they were Tenley’s compositions. While the subject matter wasn’t consistent, her style was. Just as the tattoo design was otherworldly and stunningly intricate, so were these. I was about to comment when I noticed the container on the kitchen counter housing cupcakes. I kicked off my shoes and headed straight for them.
Transferring the kitten to one hand, I pried off the lid and carefully extracted one of the iced cakes, taking an enormous bite.
“These are so good,” I mumbled as the kitten craned her neck and sniffed. I crammed the rest of it in my mouth before she could take a lick. I dipped my finger in the icing of another cupcake and held it out for the kitten. “Here you go, little buddy, try this.” She gave it a little test lick and then went to town.
Tenley reached into her back pocket and retrieved her phone. She held it up, and the flash went off.