The bigger one shook his head. “We cannot see the future.”
“And what if you don’t come back?”
“What we can do, we will do, and if all goes well, we will return in time. Will you keep her for us?” The larger one sighed. In my dream, for it was a dream, the sound came to me half through my ears and half through my heart, like the grieving wind of late autumn that pulls the last leaves down, or the dark breath that gasps at the light when a deep old cellar is opened. The sigh fluttered wearily inside me, finding no rest, and Glory’s face held an expression that must have been like my own. She couldn’t say no.
“You know,” she said, “some people don’t like anything that’s any different from what they’re used to. I’ve got some personal experience with that, and I wouldn’t want this little one to come to any harm…”
The smaller one whispered, “If you will love her, and keep her warm, and feed her, and clothe her and teach her as she grows, she will be able to keep from harm. Our people have their own ways.”
“Feeding people isn’t always easy,” Lou Ellen commented. “Last winter, my folks didn’t eat all that regular…”
The cat-people nodded, like they’d already figured that out. The bigger one took a little pouch from his pocket and handed it to Glory. She opened it and looked at what was inside. All I could see was a vagrant sparkle. “This is a connection to something like…a bank,” said the big one. “When you need money for Falija, for her food, or clothing, or whatever she may need, you speak the need into the bag. Then set the bag down and leave it for a time, and when you come back, you will find what you need beside it.”
“Well,” said Gloriana. “That’s something.”
The smaller one whispered, “It will not provide forever. It is tied to us, and what happens to it, we feel. It can be broken, and we with it, so hide it away from anyone greedy or wicked or silly. It is better kept a secret thing.”
Glory ducked her head. I knew she was thinking, of course it would have to be hidden away because Jeff couldn’t keep anything from Til, and Til ruined everything he was a part of, and next thing I knew, they reached up into the air and pulled the baby out of nowhere as though she had been there the whole time, in an invisible crib, just floating along behind them.
She looked like the pictures I had loved in my children’s books, so long ago on Phobos. She was definitely a kitten, but the size of a biggish cat, like the pictures of Earthian tiger or lion cubs, only more slender and delicate. She had big eyes, tall, tufted ears, and a triangular face pointed at the chin. She looked fragile, like something made of glass and covered with satiny golden fur, with the same curved mouth and the same pink nose as her parents. She yawned, showing elegant fangs in front and a line of chewing teeth at the sides.
Glory reached out to take her. The cat-baby looked up at her doubtfully, but when Glory cuddled her, one of the little paw hands came up to pat her nose, and Glory looked down at her in absolute adoration.
Lou Ellen said, “You’re holding her wrong. You should support her head.”
“It’s all right,” said the little cat-person. “Falija is already very strong. You don’t need to worry about her neck or bones or muscles. Just…treat her gently and lovingly, will you, please?”
Evidently their kind of people didn’t cry, because from all the sadness I could feel emanating from them, if the smaller cat-person could have cried, she’d have flooded the place.
“One more thing,” the littler cat-person said, taking a little green book out of her pocket. “When Falija begins to speak, read this book to her aloud, several times. It is the key to her learning. Promise?”
“I promise,” Glory said, reaching out for the book without taking her eyes from the baby.
“Good-bye,” they said, and they were gone, just like that.
Later, I woke up, still under the tree, thinking what a lovely, silly dream that had been. I was stiff from sitting on the ground so long, but the remembered dream resonated happily all the way home.
Next morning I went down to get a few eggs from the chicken house, pick up my milk and paper, and maybe have a cup of tea with Maybelle while she got ready for work. I heard her moving around upstairs, and when she came down she was shaking her head the way she did when Gloriana did something weird.
“What now?” I asked
“That silly child has promised some woman she’d take care of the woman’s cat while the woman is on some kind of pilgrimage to the Shrine of Sorrow over in Deep Shameful. Says the woman gave her money to do it.”
I’m sure I looked at her witlessly. A cat. “When did you find this out?”
“Just now! I went in to wake her, and here in the bed is this cat. Big one, and not full-grown yet. She’d already made it a little sandbox by the door, so I can’t get angry about it.”
All I could think of was the strange dream I’d had the day before. “It wasn’t dressed up, was it?”
“What wasn’t?”
“The cat?”
“The cat was in its fur, like all cats are. What’s the matter with you, Mother!”
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m not awake yet.”
Glory came into the kitchen as her parents were getting into the carriage, plopped herself down across from me, and asked, “Anything interesting in the paper?”
“Some tragedy, some comedy, nothing that’ll matter in a hundred years,” I said. “I understand you’ve got a cat.”
“It’s not mine. I’m just taking care of it for somebody.”
“So your mother said. Why don’t you come on up to my house and be my company
