[Critique Group 1] Submission 12/2022 for DeAnna

[Deanna Noriega]

1,064 words

 

Scarlet Ribbons

The real story

By DeAnna Quietwater Noriega

 

Many years ago, when I was a kitten living my first life. My mother resided
in an alley behind a dumpster. There were three of us. My brother was an
orange striped tiger. My mother was a midnight black child of the streets. I
took after her with the addition of a white  vest and white forepaws. 

 

Late that fall, as the nights were growing cold, mother told me it was time
for me to move out on my own. I had learned to hunt and no longer needed her
milk to survive. I was hard pressed to keep body and soul together. All of
the best locales were claimed by larger unfriendly cats. 

 

I wandered further each day, becoming weaker with hunger. 

 

I sought shelter in some bushes next to the rickety steps of a small rundown
house, near the edge of town. When a girl with hair as black as my coat and
large blue eyes came down those steps, she looked in my direction. Even
though I was crouched and kept very still she spotted me. Her face broke
into a smile so sunny that it made me feel warm all over. Her voice was soft
and gentle.

 

                "You look cold and hungry KitKat. Come here and I will find
you something to eat. Mama has gone to work, and then she will go to night
school. You can come in for a while and get warm."

The girl found me a small bowl and filled it with some leftover beef stew.
She placed a cup with a missing handle full of cool water beside the bowl.
After I polished the bowl clean of any trace of food, she placed a small
pillow on the sill of a sunny window to make me comfortable for a nap. Then
she gathered her books and hurried off to school. Late in the afternoon, she
returned to heat the rest of the stew and mixed some biscuit dough. Although
Becca was still a child, she knew how to prepare simple meals. Her mother
Ivy came home briefly to share this plain fare before rushing off to night
school. 

Becca lifted the pan of golden-brown biscuits from the oven and Ivy ladled
the stew into bowls. I was lying quietly on my cushion in the window. Ivy
sat down to eat. Becca lifted me and placed me gently in her mother's lap.

 

"Look mama, see how thin she is? I am calling her KitKat, like the candy bar
because she is so sweet. I know we don't have the money for Christmas
presents, but if we keep her, she can be our gift to each other. Ivy looked
into Becca's pleading eyes. Her work worn hand stroked my soft fur. That is
how I joined Becca and her mother, becoming a part of their family. 

 

Time flew by and a year later, Christmas was again approaching. There was no
money for pretty packages for them. Taking me in meant some sacrifices in an
already tight budget. If they had not added me to their family, I probably
would have had a short hungry first life. 

I did my best to help where I could, catching mice, curling up on Becca's
feet to keep them warm while she did homework at the kitchen table. I waited
up for Ivy, and sang a cheerful chirrup to welcome her home each night. I
kept Becca company while her mother rushed from job to school with only a
half hour break to snatch dinner from cans heated on the stove by Becca. I
played silly games to make them smile. I followed Ivy when she came from her
night school classes to peek in to check on Becca. That was when we heard
the end of her bedtime prayer. 

 

"For me, some scarlet ribbons for my hair." 

 

When Ivy had tiptoed back to the kitchen, I sat on her lap while she tried
to get quiet in her heart so she could sleep. Later, when I made my rounds
to be sure my people were sleeping, I found Becca breathing softly tucked
snugly in her bed. Ivy wasn't doing as well. Her pillow was damp with tears.
I curled against her side and purred her to sleep. 

 

I knew that Becca's request was impossible. There was no way Ivy could get
those ribbons. I slipped out walking through the wall. Cats can do things
like that if they truly must. I hurried across town. Only Tasha, queen of
cats might be able to help. What price would she accept in payment? 

 

I crept into the old barn where she held court on Christmas Eve. Hundreds of
cats gathered there to sing her praises. I waited until the time for
supplications came. I stepped forth and made my request for scarlet ribbons
for Becca's hair. 

Tasha's green eyes glared down at me. 

 

"What will you give for those ribbons?" she growled. 

 

I was the least of her kind, a small black cat born in an alley of no exotic
breeding or importance. I had only one thing I could give. 

 

"Oh great queen, I offer one of my nine lives. May you live one life beyond
your allotted number and I one less." 

 

The trade was made and her minions were sent out to search the town for
lengths of scarlet ribbon. Velvet bows disappeared from wrapped gifts
beneath Christmas trees. Satin ribbons were taken from door wreaths. Sewing
rooms were searched for ribbons left from holiday dressmaking. 

 

Nearing the end of my 8th life I have no regrets. The look of amazement on
Ivy's face and the trusting joy on Becca's when she woke to find her prayer
had been answered was worth the sacrifice. 

 

I lived a long and happy first life.  I was there when Ivy finished school
and got a better job. I watched Becca grow to become a beautiful young
woman, marry and have children of her own. As I approach the end of my 8th
and final life, I am content. I have been a good and loving cat and brought
comfort and joy to all of my subsequent human families. Who is to say that
the Creator of all life didn't use one small humble cat to answer the
prayers of a good child. 

 

 

DeAnna Quietwater Noriega

Cell: 573-544-3511

Email:  <mailto:dqnoriega at gmail.com> dqnoriega at gmail.com

Author of Fifty Years of Walking with Friends

https://www.dldbooks.com/dqnoriega/

 

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