“Hey, paws off, Buddy,” Stan said, pointing down at a snow globe he’d laid on the counter. Little Bud stared back up at him, one paw paused mid-air, understanding Stan’s tone mid-curious movement.
“Meow?” the cat said, head cocked and lowering its paw back down to the counter.
Stan dropped his pointing finger and scratched between Little Bud’s ears.
“Hey, good cat. You listen better than half the tourists that run through here.” He went back to polishing the other snow globe in his hand. Little Bud meowed again walking to the edge of the counter, stretching out to where Stan was just out of reach.
“One second, Bud. I gotta finish this. We call this the old ‘spit ‘n’ polish’,” Stan said, hocking some spit onto the glass in his hands and pulling a rag from his pocket to buff with. He took a step forward as he did so, puffing his gut out just enough so the cat could rub against him. Little Bud purred appreciatively, and Stan grinned to himself. He finished off the last couple globes while Little Bud headbutted his belly, angling for some petting. Stan set the merchandise to the side and threw the rag behind the counter to deal with later.
“Alright, we’re all done here, Little Guy. Dinner time!” Stan turned and popped the door he’d placed a poorly scrawled “Employee’s Only” sign over and held it open with his foot. He heard the soft thud of the cat jumping down from the counter and following after him.
Getting to the kitchen, Stan pulled out a little plate and spoon, setting both on the counter. The cat got right behind his legs and nearly tripped Stan as he went to the pantry. Cursing slightly and making sure Buddy was alright, Stan pulled out the soup and cat food. The cat meowed loudly and Stan chuckled.
“Heh, yeah, I got it, you’re hungry, Buddy. Just hold on a sec.” Stan put the can of soup by the stove. Pulling the right pans out, he set it cooking on a low boil. Buddy kept winding back and forth beneath Stan’s feet until finally Stan scooped him up and plopped him on the kitchen table before pouring the cat food and setting the plate next to the cat.
“There ya go. Now stay still for a minute while I get mine, alright?”
The cat didn’t even look up from nosing the food around. Stan grunted and flapped a hand at Bud, turning back to his soup. Soon enough his food was ready too, and Stan poured it into a bowl, settling into a chair.
“Thanks for waiting, Buddy. I ‘preciate it.” Stan snorted, taking a slurp of the hot soup. Little Bud had licked up every last drop of food and padded over to sit beside Stan’s empty right hand. The cat bumped against Stan’s hand and Stan smiled a tiny bit, scritching the ears and stroking the length of his back while he ate.
The evening passed mostly in silence, the only sounds being Stan’s spoon clacking into the bowl, his slurping, and the cat’s strong purrs.
When he was done he passed the dishes to the sink to do later, next to a few other crusty plates. Stan picked up Little Bud and walked upstairs to his room. The little guy squirmed for a minute before settling into the crook of Stan’s forearm.
“That’s a good guy, yeah,” Stan said, his voice soft as he walked them upstairs. “You wanna help me study tonight?” Stan asked, reaching his room and grabbing a few textbooks off the dresser with his free hand.
He trekked back to the kitchen and laid the books down side by side, allowing the cat to jump back down to the kitchen table.
“I can do most of the basic stuff in my head, ya know? But, uh - I gotta relearn most of the concepts. So I can apply them to the monster in the basement, kid.”
Stan got a notebook out and opened the nearest textbook - a math book, covering basic algebra, geometry, and trigonometry. Little Bud meowed back to him, stepping onto the page Stan wanted to read from.
“No, cat. On the table or me, not the book.” Little Bud mewed softly and stepped over the book, climbing up Stan’s shirt to nestle into his shoulder. His tail flicked against Stan’s neck and shoulder blade, sometimes tickling him as it brushed through his mullet.
“Ah, good cat. Wanna keep me awake, buddy?” Little Bud mewed quietly in his ear and Stan smiled a bit as he turned back to his work.
“Gotta understand, gotta make it work. Gotta stay awake. Thanks, Little Six,” Stan mumbled, already his head filling with the jumble of numbers and symbols before him. The cat meowed back once more, answering Stan’s words in a way that made him feel heard, not lonely.
He began writing down equations and working out problems, double checking his work against the book’s solutions. Cursing when he got it wrong, sometimes angrily crossing out entire sections of wrong work. Once he tore through the page with his pencil and threw the whole notebook down and away from him.
He stood abruptly, Little Bud clinging to his shoulder with his claws. He took a few steps away from the table, breathing heavy.
“I’m just too stupid! It’s never gonna work! I can barely do high school shit, and I think I can make that monster in the basement work? I must be out of my dam mind!” He ran his right hand through his hair, catching in the long strands. “I still look like a bum, despite the new digs. Nothing feels right, and I’m so dam useless!”
Little Bud had jumped down from his shoulder and settled on the table, meowing back at Stan as he raged at himself.
“What, cat? It’s true. I ain’t good for anything, and saving him is at the top of that list.” Stan sank to the floor by the doorway to the kitchen, back against the wall. He rubbed the heels of his palms against dry eyes, just wanting the world to go black.
Stan didn’t hear it when the cat jumped off the table. But he did feel the rub against his drawn up shins. Passing back and forth, delicate paws stepping on his feet. The cat stood up so his paws were on Stan’s knees, pushing them face to face.
Little Bud jumped up and rubbed his face against Stan’s. Stan peaked, taking one hand away from his eye. Little Bud nipped lovingly at a finger and continued to rub against Stan, balancing neatly on his knees.
Stan took his other hand away and blinked at the dark spots in his vision for a moment before carefully petting under his cat’s chin, down to his belly and front paws. Little Bud gave a contented purr and they sat that way for a long time.
Slowly Stan scooped the cat more strongly into his lap, straightening his legs to make room, so he could pet him better.
“Well, at least I’m here to take care of you, Little Bud. At least I can do that right.”
Little Bud mewed softly, stretching to curl against Stan’s shoulder again.
“Up we go, then,” Stan said, using the wall to slide up and tidy the kitchen table of his books. “There’s always tomorrow, right Bud? We know we got tomorrow to get this right.” Stan turned off the lights to the kitchen and went to bed. Little Bud snuggled on top of him. Reassuring and warm.
Stan smiled as he drifted off, even as his Little Bud whacked him in the nose with his tail.
