Pretty Kitty
by Lorne Kelton
They called me Pretty Kitty on account as I always had me one. They’d say, “Ah, she’s a cutey”, or scowl at me with, “That’s no way a life,” meanin’ for the cat. Alls I remember is that more coins came my way as a result of her; so’s I kept her. Can’t say as my current days is any better. Warmer, yeah. Funner? No ways a ‘tall. Folk used ta think I was put out there ‘cause I was a nuisance or somethin’ or cause I came from a place a no means. Not true. Not true a t’all. Truth is, I wanted out. Hated my Pa. Still do; may he burn in hell. My Ma was no pik-nik neither. She used to worship her man like some big king or somethin’. He’d hit her, he’d bark at her, he’d treat her worse than the mice that’d cross our floor. An he wasn’t even drunk or drugged or nuthin’. Just how he was is all. Couldn’t stand it, no way to hell. Waited for my fifteenth birthday to come along – ‘cause that’s when uncle Louie slipped me $35.00 and told me to stay hush ‘bout it – and then I split faster than a dry log. Told m’self I ‘aint never gonna let me be used and abused like that, no way no how. Little did I knows ’bout the world then.
I ‘member that first night pretty clear. We was in an old run-down tenement of a place with four families livin’ side-by-side. My Pa was in tight with the landlord on acount a he’d patch-up the boiler and do the fix-ups and in return he’d get use of the rooftop. On a good day, he’d take me and my little brother Marky up there and show us all the places in the distance he’d been to, all the while chewin’ hot tar from the scorchin’ roof. On a bad day he’d dangle Marky over the edge and remind us what ‘ed happen if we ever crossed him. Then, like nuthin happened, he hold us tight and tell us how much he loved us; all the while tears streamin’ down his leathered face. Me, I’d look off in that distance and memorize all those places ‘cause somethin’ told me I might need to go there one day. I needed me a plan. Well, that rooftop was my bed space for a bit ‘till I could sneak back in and grab me some supplies, includin’ a roll-up blanket that Pa would use when it was extra cold. Marky could’a been freezin’ with the flu, but the blanket stayed clenched in Pa’s hands. Thought ‘bout takin’ Marky with me, but that a been selfish and crushed my Ma. So I just left him a note tellin’ him I’d see him soon and lettin’ him know where he could find some Hershey’s chocolate I’d hidden in the floor boards.
The first thing ya notice ‘bout sleepin’ in the streets ‘aint the noise or the smell or even the cold; it’s the bloody animals! They was everywhere. A freakin’ zoo. By day, ya just don’t sees ‘em. Maybe that’s when they not be welcome. At night, they come a tumblin’ outta every nook you can imagine. Cats, dogs, raccoons, even saw me a red fox, least that’s what my new neighbour says it was. But it was the kitten that caught me. Couldn’t a been more than a day or two old. She just right up and jumped in my lap. Probl’y just foresakin’ much like the rest of humanity on the street that night. Alls I know is she took to me good and fast and that was good enough for me. Anyhow, I recall there was plenty of space in my blanket for the two of us and that’s all that mattered. Her timin’ was good too. Had me but ten dollars left of uncle Louie’s money and kitty proved to be quite the attraction. Might ‘a been her size, might ‘a been her loud purr, but I think it was her zebra-like stripes that got folk takin’ notice. They was droppin’ nickels and dimes in bunches into my lap and soon I was eatin’ good again. Pretty and I was together for more than a year, b’fore she gone run off somewhere I’ll never know. Thought ‘bout getting me another but I was getting’ older and had to find me a better way ‘round things. Funny thing ‘bout the streets. Ya never really makes any friends, not really. The ones ya does go and make, well, even them they takes off on ya. Even when ya gone done cared for ‘em, fed ‘em, and loved ‘em.
Another year, maybe two, passed b’fore some city worker types ‘stablished me with some fine folk from some good stock. They was from far outta the city, but that suited me alright. They had them a small farm where’s I could help out and grow-up. Some days I wondered if they might want them a boy to join in the work.
They had them a cat too, some big fat hairy thing of a beast, one that never lived in the streets, that’s for sure. She wasn’t pretty, but that was no matter.