Seeing the human had finally gotten the hint, the feline pranced his way across the floor toward a pair of bowls. One was labeled food, the other, water. Well, that was clear enough. Adriel shook bits of kibble from the bag and filled the water dish.
Another disdainful look from the cat had her choosing one of the cans and taking a closer look to see how it opened. A firm pull on the ring did the trick. The strong smell of tuna filling the air made her nose wrinkle.
She dumped half the can’s smelly contents on top of the kibble—which wasn’t easy with the cat trying to shove his head into the bowl the entire time—then stepped back to watch him eat with gusto. The sound of contented purring went a long way toward soothing Adriel’s rough-edged nerves, and brought the ghost of a smile to her face.
As soon as he finished bolting his meal, the cat issued a small belch and leapt back to the table, then up onto the nearest pile of boxes He circled twice, sprawled on his back, and, still purring quietly, fell promptly asleep.
Cheered a little by the cat’s presence, curiosity and urgent need sent Adriel wandering through the maze of boxes. Despite the sheer volume of things crammed into the tiny cabin, Pam’s uncle had been somewhat tidy in his personal habits. Under a fine layer of dust that had accumulated in his absence, the bathroom fixtures were surprisingly clean. This room had stayed relatively uncluttered—probably because there hadn’t been room for more than his personal toiletries. Those, thankfully, had gone along with him to his new home, leaving the shelves empty of everything except a stack of linens. The topmost facecloth Adriel sacrificed to rag status, and used it to wipe away every tiny mote of dust.
Looking at her reflection in the beveled glass hanging above old porcelain, she saw the face she had ended up with. This, at least, was one of her favorites. A fall of auburn hair, a sprinkling of freckles dotting creamy smooth skin, and lips the color of good red wine. Eyes the blue of a winter cloud, rimmed with red from crying gazed back at her from smudged hollows. She reached out one hand toward the mirror, the other touching her chin just to make sure the vision before her was real. A pinch just below the apple of her cheek pulled up a stain of angry red. And it hurt. Yes. Totally real.
She did what she had come in here to do. This human body’s plumbing require a lot more maintenance than she expected. Next, Adriel decided to explore the bedroom hiding somewhere behind the wall of boxes. A circuitous path skirted the stacks blocking the way between the bathroom and bedroom. Out of necessity, clearing that route would become her first priority. The physical labor should help take her mind off other things.
Moving the first stack of bins and boxes out onto the porch—the only other place where they would fit—took longer than expected when she discovered the only way to navigate the maze was to lift each box over her head.
“I didn’t sign on for this.” All the activity had wakened the cat who blinked back at her. “Well, I didn’t.” Adriel flexed sore muscles.
The sound of footsteps on the porch warned of Pam’s knock. Adriel opened the door to find her new landlord burdened with plastic sacks. Cleaning supplies and food disappeared into cabinets and the fridge with Pam’s usual efficiency.
“You’ve been busy,” she nodded her approval. “Okay, walk down to the shop in the morning and we’ll get started on your training. The phone should be on; here’s my number.” Pam jotted something on a small pad. “Call if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine,” Adriel wasn’t convinced, but wanted to put a good face on things. “Oh, what’s the cat’s name?”
“Winston’s back? I’ve been trying to catch him for weeks. I was afraid he’d gone feral.”
Adriel gestured to where the black body once again sprawled atop a pile of boxes. “He seems quite tame to me. The name suits him.”
“Uncle Craig will be pleased.” A shadow of strong emotion crossed Pam’s face and then was gone. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way—you look like you could do with some sleep. See you in the morning.”
Sleep sounded like a great plan, but Adriel’s stomach had other ideas. Thoughtfully, Pam had included a couple pre-made sandwiches in the items now filling the refrigerator. Stomach blissfully full, Adriel made her way to the bedroom.
A tubular metal headboard arched over a twin bed bared to the striped mattress. A single bulb with a pull chain threaded through a plastic clip-on shade illuminated the room. From the end of the chain switch, a length of heavy string traced a path to the headboard, where it was tied around the top of the frame. Pam’s uncle liked his conveniences. Once in bed, he could pull the string to turn off the light without having to fumble in the dark. Right where Pam had said they would be, pillows, sheets, and blankets rested, neatly folded, in a hand hewn wooden box at the foot of the bed. Bright patterns worked into the soft bed coverings would loan some warmth to the otherwise austere room. When she opened the single window,
