I recently entered a short story contest with very specific prompts. Enjoy.
Orange Cats & Fanny Packs: A Halloween Miracle
“Give me a boost,” Izzie says frantically, tilting her head toward the tiny orange kitten wedged between several branches near the top of the old oak tree. Its mews are sharp and desperate, piercing through the rustling leaves and cool night air.
“I know I’m currently in a Kim Possible costume,” I say, giving her my best I’m serious face, “but this is not the kind of danger I imagined when I agreed to go out with you tonight. There is no way either of us is climbing all the way up there.”
“Come on, Wren,” she says, drawing out my name, putting on her best pout. Her warm brown eyes lock onto mine, pleading. “We can’t just leave it.”
And because I am an absolute sucker for Izzie – whether I am ready to admit it to myself or not – I find myself saying, “Okay, fine. But let me be the one to climb up.”
“Aww, you don’t want me to get hurt,” she says, her voice a mix of flirty and teasing.
“More like, you just had to dress up as Hillary Duff in all her Cinderella Story glory and are currently sporting a poofy dress and a kitchen apron,” I say, trying – and failing – to hide the blush creeping up on my cheeks. “That’s not exactly the best climbing gear. If one of us is going to make it up there, it’s going to be me.”
I take a deep breath and gently nudge Izzie out of the way, taking her place at the bottom of the tree. I study the trunk’s deep grooves and rough crevices, the bark worn away in places to reveal a patchwork of age and weather. My eyes trace upward, searching for the best possible path. The limbs of the tree curve and intersect like rivers on a map, branches mostly bare except for a few stubborn leaves clinging on for dear life – refusing, like the kitten, to let go.
“You know you’ll actually need to move from that spot to climb the tree,” Izzie says playfully, breaking my concentration. “I’m coming for you, my sweet floofly pumpkin,” she coos to the orange speck above, whose mews grow more distressed with each passing moment.
Great. She’s already getting attached, I grimace. I am really going to have to climb this tree.
“You mean, I’m coming,” I cut in, before she can think of any other ridiculous pet names.
“Well, that remains to be seen,” she quips, raising an eyebrow.
Izzie crouches down and clasps her hands together, guiding me to place my foot in them for leverage. I place my right foot at the edge of a small hollow in the trunk, its bark worn, offering just enough grip. The moment feels intense – her hands steady beneath me, the tree looming above, my high school crush, and the kitten's cries urging me upward. Putting pressure on the hollow for just a second too long, I feel the bark give way beneath my foot. It starts to slide. Panic floods through me as I lunge for the nearest limb – it’s a bit of a long shot, but I manage to catch it. Using what’s left of the ridge, I push off hard and scramble onto the branch just as the ledge below crumbles away. Well, there goes my way down. A problem for future Wren, I think.
Izzie’s face is filled with concern – regret, even, and I can’t stand the sight of it.
“Ya know, if I’d known I was going to be rescuing a cat from a tree tonight, I would’ve dressed up as a firefighter and brought my trusty ladder. Or maybe a real grappling hook,” I call down, smirking as I point to the plastic one dangling from my waistband.
“HA. HA. Very funny,” she shouts sarcastically, trying hard not to crack even the slightest smile at my very corny joke.
The tension breaks, just a little. I can be brave for her.
I stand up carefully, using the trunk of the tree to steady myself, trying my best to stay light on my feet as I navigate the intricate web of limbs, some more stable than others. The higher I climb, the shorter the limbs get, and I find myself absolutely baffled by how this tiny cat – possibly part squirrel – managed to get up here in the first place.
“Be careful!” Izzie shouts from below.
“Oh, sure, now you tell me,” I gasp, out of breath, clinging to a large branch and silently hoping the universe takes pity on me.
Just a little further, and – wait, is that orange fuzzball hissing at me? This is the thanks I get for coming to your rescue?
Okay, Wren, channel your inner Izzie, I coach myself as I inch closer to the small orange demon kitty. “Hello, my little fluffy angel,” I say, but it comes out disjointed and completely unnatural.
“I’m here to save you. Please don’t give me a hard time,” I whisper earnestly. “I really need to impress the beautifully stubborn girl on the ground.”
It’s the strangest thing, but my plea seems to work. The “sweet floofy pumpkin” actually embraces me – well, maybe that’s a stretch– but I do hear a soft purr. I ease her… him? … gently into my fanny pack, which, thankfully, turns out to be the one useful part of my costume.
Now comes the part of this rescue mission I’ve been dreading: getting us out of this tree in one piece. I slowly pivot, facing Izzie– and the ground. Both are much farther away than I’d like them to be. Suddenly, the world tilts. The ground is spinning. I’m an unwilling participant stuck on the Gravitron, and I think I might be sick.
As if sensing my panic, Izzie calls up to me, “You okay, Wren? … Should I send for backup?” she adds with a nervous laugh.
“All good – just, ya know, getting in some quality bonding time with our new friend,” I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
Okay, Wren, get it together. Don’t be dramatic. You can do this…just maybe don’t look down—one step at a time. I turn back around to face the tree, and this time, I channel my inner Kim Possible. The kitten pokes its tiny head out from my pack, as if to cheer me on– along for the adventure, my own personal sidekick. As we reach the bottom of the tree, I remember that the ridge I used to climb up no longer exists. In that moment, I commit to jumping the rest of the way and pray I land safely. It’s only about five or six feet– no biggie, I tell myself, trying to believe this isn’t a terrible idea.
I glance down at my furry companion and whisper with a wink, “We’ve come a long way, friend. Time to finish strong.” Then I zip the top of my fanny pack, leaving just enough space for a sliver of air and a small tuft of orange fur to peek through.. If anyone’s getting hurt, it’ll be me. I let go and accept my fate. And somehow– by magic or some Halloween miracle– we drift down to the ground like a leaf settling in for winter. Pretty graceful if you ask me.
“And she sticks the landing!” Izzie calls from behind me. “Good job, KP,” she adds with a playful nudge and a wink.
“Ahh, it was nothing,” I say with a small, knowing smile, slowly unzipping my fanny pack. Two large golden eyes blink up at us, framed by a puff of orange fur, with a small patch of white just beneath the chin.
“Hi, sweet baby. I’ve got you– you’re safe now,” Izzie says in a soothing voice, gently lifting the kitten. It curls up in her chest, its fuzzy head nestled into the crook of her neck. A loud, blissful purr thrums with contentment.
“Sure, rub it in,” I tease the small creature– it knows exactly what it’s doing. “Just remember who saved you,” I add, before giving in. The sight of my favorite person holding my new, small but feisty sidekick tugs at something deep in my chest.
Caught up in the moment, I hadn’t noticed Izzie’s attention shift back to me– a look in her eyes I can’t quite place. She moves toward me slowly, intentionally. My stomach flutters and I swallow hard, suddenly aware of how little space remains between us. She tilts her head up to mine, a mischievous grin spreading slowly across her face, before gently pressing her lips to mine. They’re soft. Warm. Perfect. A hint of vanilla and stickiness from her lip gloss lingers as she pulls away.
“Thank you,” she says. “From, um… both of us,” she adds, clearing her throat nervously as she glances down at her chest, where the purring seems to have grown louder.
“Oh, right, I almost forgot you were here,” I giggle, running my fingers gently under its chin, twirling the small white tufts of fur between my fingers. Large eyes peer up at me– and maybe it’s the adrenaline from this whole night, but I swear I catch a small wink.
gamechangershow
izzy806
