The Immigrants

The Immigrants

“George, did you hear that?” Martha looked over and saw his eyes were open. “George?” George was watching the news with an intensity Martha hadn’t seen in his eyes since their dating days. It was probably myopia then too! she chuckled to herself.

“Of course you didn’t. You don’t hear me most of the time,” she said, pulling herself out of the chair, silently cursing the rain for her knees, and heading to the door.

She flipped on the outside light and peered through the peephole. She didn’t see anyone. “Is anyone there?” she called. She remembered how embarrassed she’d been last week when Mrs. Grayson – the short Mrs. Grayson – had dropped by and been left standing for five-minutes. That reminded her, put 'check the doorbell' and 'make George a hearing appointment' on my to-do list.

“Meow.”

“Oh my,” she said, sliding the chain off and opening the door. She knew a call for help when she heard one.

A raggedy, wet mass of black hair streaked through the opening and launched itself … right into George’s lap.

“Holy Mother of …” George started to say but was cut off.

“Don’t you dare finish that!” Martha scolded.

“What is this?” George asked, as the cat began rubbing against him. “Get this thing off me! It smells, it’s wet, and it’s fat!”

Martha came over with a blanket from her chair and picked the cat up. She began drying it. “Poor little baby, you’re all skin and bones.” She stopped and pulled her glasses down so she could see better. “Fat? George, I don’t think so. She’s pregnant!”

George held up two fingers and made a cross as if to ward off evil. “I thought we agreed after George Jr. never to use or hear that word again in this house.” He watched his wife cuddle the cat. “I know that look. The answer is NO.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” she said sweetly. “Now, I’m not going to put her back out in the rain. She can spend the night in the laundry room and I’ll release her in the morning.”

George started to object but, after 38 years of marriage, he knew the look she gave him.

Martha handed the blanket wrapped cat to George and went to the kitchen. She opened a can of tuna and plated it, carrying it into the small laundry room.

As she came back to the T.V. room she paused, smiling.

George had gone back to the news but a bundle of blankets sat on his lap with a black head sticking out watching with him. He absent mindedly was stroking the cat. “See, it’s all commercials. One minute of news, three minutes of car sales!”

What a pair. Probably neither could catch a mouse! The thought brought a laugh to her lips. “I hate to break this up,” she said, moving to take the cat.

“Good riddance,” was his gruff response. “See to it she’s out of here first thing! Probably going to have to have the house fumigated.”

“Yes, George. Whatever you say.”

The alarm clock never went off the next day. “Martha! Come here, quick!”

Martha opened her eyes. Grey light filtered in the window. She glanced at the clock: 07:38 am. She felt a rush of adrenaline. “George, are you all right?” she managed. “What’s wrong?”

She slid into her slippers and hurried down the hallway. George sat on the floor outside the laundry room. “George, did you fall? Are you hurt?” she asked.

He looked up at her, his face covered with a big grin. “What are you talking about? Look – she had her kittens! Eleven, twelve, no – thirteen of them!” He gently stroked the mother cat. “What a good girl you are. You have beautiful babies.”

The cat purred and began licking the newborns.

Martha just shook her head, returning her husbands grin. “They are absolutely precious. Look, there's one that looks like you with that patch of white hair on his head."

"Well, that's not too bad. I thought you were going to point to the one with the big belly," he joked back.

"I’ll call the pound later," she said pointedly. "I’m sure we can have them picked up in a day or two. They’ll find a good home for them.”

“We can’t do that,” he objected.

“Well, you said last night …”

“That was last night. She had kittens here. You know the law, the kittens are now automatically” he paused, fishing for words. “native family! And that makes Mamma a naturalized member of the household.”

Martha couldn't hold it back and started laughing. She finally was able to choke out, “Naturalized family? George, you big softy. What in the world are we going to do with fourteen cats?”

George looked over the brood. “Well, they’re probably going to eat us out of house and home. I’ll end up starving and you’ll become the crazy lady who lives with all the cats!”

They looked at each other and the laughter rolled until their eyes watered. Martha helped him stand up. “You know, you feel lighter already.”

The second round of laughter was just as hardy as the first.


Day 2 Entry for "The Writer's Baker's Dozen Contest" 
Word Limit: 1,000 Word Count: 864
Prompt: Comedy - Thirteen Kittens: You take in a stray cat who appears on your doorstep. She's exhausted and starving, and noticeably pregnant. You cannot turn her away. The next day she gives birth to 13 kittens. Now what?