Cat Lady

Maribelle went into the restaurant, and sat in her customary spot, a little booth next to a window near the restrooms. She waited for the server on shift to take notice of her, and then she waved merrily. It was a good feeling, and she never quite got tired of it. The way the girl’s face lit up when she saw her. It was a newer server this time, so it wasn’t that same light of familiarity, but the girl was cheerful and upbeat. The manager waved and smiled at her, the other servers nodded to her. She knew she tipped well, she kept up on such things, and she was always interested in what was going on. She was a good customer. It was a good relationship. It was a part of every day.
She flagged the server down before she went to the restroom to wash her hands, to let her know that she was not leaving. She noticed that the server rolled her eyes as she turned away, and she was pained by it. She stored that little nugget deep down, swallowed it like a sticking pill. It was true that she had just ordered, and it was a little obvious that she wasn’t leaving yet, but she was just trying to be courteous. She splashed some water on her heated face, and blotted the water off with a paper towel. She dusted her face with some fresh cosmetic powder, and washed her hands. She smiled in the mirror, made sure there was nothing in her teeth. The smile was phony, and it had the opposite effect on her nerves than she had hoped. She gave her puffy silver hair a token pat, and straightened her flowered blouse a little.
Once back in her seat, she started to feel a little better. The server was just as warm and gracious as they all were, and she let herself be served and like it. She watched the girl, Jillian, as she interacted with the other servers. She did not show any more sarcasm in her demeanor, and Maribelle started to think that maybe she had been overreacting. Maribelle looked around, noticing everything in her quiet way. There was dust on the cherry wood window sills; she knew it had been exactly three weeks since they had been cleaned. She also knew that it was Jillian’s side work tonight. She was interested to see if Jillian would do it. The last two weeks, it had been Pam’s side work, and Maribelle knew that Pam hadn’t done it. She would never say anything, not even to Pam, but she knew. She knew who followed the rules here, and who broke them. Jillian was new, so she wanted to see if Jillian played by the rules. The blue tablecloths were all clean, which was already a step over Pam’s cleanliness focus.
Maribelle would be here a while, she liked to feed the cats that lived in the woods behind the restaurant, and watch the sunset. She would drink coffee and maybe get a slice of pie, and talk with the other regulars, and the workers. Sometimes the cooks would come out and say hello. She liked that, they were nice young boys. They did a nice job with her food. Tonight, they didn’t come out; the restaurant was a little busy. One of the other regulars, Jim, got sat at the table behind her.
“Hi Maribelle,” he said miserably. She twisted in her seat, that phony smile creeping back on her face. She gave a little wave and nod, along with the pseudosmile. He was such a drag when he was like this. Woe is me, she thought. Seated behind her, she would have to twist around every time he spoke, too. She thought the cats might be enjoying a slightly early feeding tonight.
“Did you hear about the little girl that’s missing?” he asked her. It was his self-appointed job to bring the bad news to the restaurant when he heard something troubling. She cringed with annoyance inside, but turned and replied gamely,
“Another one? So fast after that other one ended, with the mother that…did it? Is it the parents that are under suspicion?”
“I don’t think so.” He replied frankly, concern writ on his face. “This girl’s mother was on the news, hysterical. The father was there, too. He really looked like a good guy. Begged for anyone with info to call the news station. They seemed clean to me.”
“You know who it is, Jim, it’s these damned bums that come through here. Most of them are murderers and rapists, wanted in other states and running away. They know they can live outside year round, here, so they come down here to hide out. They take people right out of the parking lots and do whatever they want with them. ”
Jim was nodding in agreement, “Yeah, there’s a little community of them living right in the woods behind here. You be careful when you go out to feed the cats. If it’s getting dark when you get ready to leave, I’ll go out there with you.”
Inside, she shuddered. “No, I’m going to have to get out of here early, today. My granddaughter’s recital.”
“How old is she?” his eyes glittered, his demeanor lightened with the commonality of grandchildren.
“Five.”
“Oh, good age.” He said, but his smile faltered. “Same age as that little girl. Say, you don’t maybe know her do you? Like, from your granddaughters classes or something? Little girl’s name was Suzie Scholden.” He grunted, “Listen to me, ‘was’, I mean, her name is Suzie Scholden.”
Maribelle was already shaking her head. As if on cue, Jillian arrived with her plate. Maribelle gave Jim a curt nod and turned back around in the black cloth booth. She noticed that Jillian had brought an extra napkin, and another glass of iced tea with the food. She thanked Jillian for the extra attention. She wasn’t like some of these old codgers, that would expect that every time now, but she would leave Jillian an extra dollar for her efforts. Maybe even two extra dollars, for saving her from a grueling conversation with Jim about doom and gloom.
While she ate, she watched Jillian take lemon oil to the window sills of the booths around her. She delighted in the smell and the prettiness of the shiny wood as the girl finished the booths that were in her view. Jillian noticed her watching and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. Maribelle nodded and continued to eat her food. The manager dropped by her table for his nightly appearance, “S’everything okay?” She nodded enthusiastically, her mouth full of food. He then went to the booth behind her for his appearance with Jim, and Jim started in with his endless banter. She finished her food rather quickly, and waved to Jillian, lamenting the fact that the sun was yet to set for another half an hour. If she waited that long, she ran the risk of Jim joining her, and he would destroy the whole atmosphere of the event with his monotonous negative rant.
She paid hurriedly, telling the cashier that she wanted to feed the cats before her granddaughter’s recital. She walked out into the Florida sunshine, now dimming with the approach of five thirty. She backed her small Kia down to the row of parking spaces closest to the woods. By the time she got out, the cats were swarming her car, maybe eight of them, rubbing on her tires, standing on her hood. She reached down and pet one of the ones circling her tires, then gently lifted the other cat off her hood. She popped the trunk and got the cooler and plates out. She pulled a bag of meat out of the cooler and poured it onto the plates, splitting it up for the meowing kitties. They ate hungrily, sometimes switching plates, circling one another. Other cats came up out of the woods to participate in the frenzy. Maribelle pulled out more plates and food, and split it amongst the new kitties. They were a scrawny bunch, she could not afford to feed them all more than once a day, but otherwise some of them would surely have starved. The small stretch of woods was home to at least thirty cats, with a few pregnant ones almost at all times. Maribelle did her part to get the females spayed whenever the SPCA was running a free drive. The stretch of woods was also home to a host of other animals, and the predators far outnumbered the remaining small prey. These cats put a huge strain on the small ecosystem. These poor cats, abandoned by their owners as their owners abandoned the state either to go back where they came from or to seek even greener pastures, often were left because they developed an illness, got pregnant, or otherwise made it inconvenient to travel with them. These ignorant wretches thought they were showing the cats a mercy by loosing them into the wild, meanwhile their issues left them unable to fend for themselves against the hordes of other animals. Maribelle paid special attention to these guys, making sure they got some food, and sometimes she would take them to the vet if they seemed really bad. She petted the small silver one, the same color as her hair. She could feel his purr start up, as he snapped at his food. He was her favorite, one of the oldest.
She waited until they were all done, and picked up the plates. She put everything back into her trunk, and got behind the wheel. Jim came out as she was passing the front door. She breathed a sigh of relief and waved to him.
She came home to her modest two-bedroom sandbox rental home and removed the cooler from her trunk. She turned on the hose and sprayed the cooler out and the plates off. She dumped the red mess and sprayed it until it ran clear. She turned it upside down in the garage to dry, as she did every day, and went in through the garage door.
She went to the refrigerator immediately, while her own cats gathered. She had five. She split the meat between them and they ate happily. She fed these guys three squares a day, so they ate with much less urgency.
She sat on the couch and flipped the television on. There was a picture of a little girl, her thin brown hair held up in a pink tiara. Her hand was on her cheek, pink nail polish matching the tiara, but a tiny palm tree sticker on each finger nail. She had big bright brown eyes, a cute kid. She wore a little pink tutu, the rest of the ensemble white. The newscaster was in the middle of his speech “…Daytona Beach, playing on the play set at Mcdonalds, when her parents lost sight of her. She was wearing exactly what you saw in the photo, as she had just come from her ballet recital. Anyone with any information is asked to contact Channel 6 news, or go to local authorities.” They played the video of her father begging for his little girl’s safe return. His wife stood by his side, a brunette beauty whose resemblance to the little girl was unmistakable. It was pretty much as Jim had described. They seemed genuinely concerned.
Maribelle changed the channel, trying to find something uplifting. She settled on animal planet, and soon was softly snoring in her easy chair.
The next morning, Maribelle woke up early, hungry from her long sleep. Usually she did not go to the diner in the morning, but she had a hankering for some pancakes, and she had plenty of food for the cats for a little while. She knew she should be conservative with her money and the food, but it would certainly do them a little good to eat an extra meal right now. So she busied herself getting ready for her outing, packing up the cooler, doing her makeup.
When she came into the diner, there was a steady little flow of customers, so she could not sit at her regular table. This threw her off just a bit. She was slightly disappointed to see that her server was going to be Pam, and that Jillian wasn’t working this morning. Pam was sweet and quick, but the table had an invisible sheen of syrup on it, which Maribelle discovered disgustedly when she rested her arms on it. Everything was very fast and she felt like she was rushed out the door, she barely noticed how her food was. She did not like this place during the day at all, she decided. She went out to her car, and looked longingly at the stretch of woods where the cats usually waited for her. None were in evidence at this time, and there was a family down by there. Three kids played and rough-housed on the grass, while the parents smoked and talked, close by. It would not do to try to feed the cats near these people. They would be annoying about the raw food, and they would probably try to pet and bother the poor cats.
Maribelle sighed and got into her Kia, thoroughly disheartened by the turn of events. She got gas at the gas station next door. She drove home, unloading the cooler full of meat and feeding it to her own hungry cats, returning the unused packages to the refrigerator. After she had rinsed the cooler out, she turned it upside down to dry, and resettled in front of the television. She was going to make an excursion of it tonight; nothing was going to stop her from the utter peace that taking care of those wild beasts brought her. Her own cats nuzzled in on all sides of her, sending her into a warm and comfortable slumber. She awakened around four, stretched and again began to prepare for her outing.
She packed her car up, and drove to the diner. She sighed with relief to see only four cars in the parking lot. The manager from the night before, a tall, skinny whip of a man with a shock of grey and black hair moosed into a mock-Elvis do, greeted her. She asked to be waited on by Jillian, and was delighted to find that Jillian was working.
She was not disappointed in the least, as she found Jillian’s station incredibly well cleaned, even the lanterns above her tables were shining. Jillian was fresh and exuberant, greeted her by name and asked if she wanted the same thing as she had the night before.
“Actually, dear, I’m feeling like a steak tonight. Cooked rare.” She smiled pleasantly, and Jillian wrote on her pad. She got up to wash her hands, as she always did, and she just stopped herself from tapping Jillian on the way by to let her know. As she passed by the servers’ area, she could hear Jillian saying, “…gives me the creeps. Does she have any family? ” She heard the other server say she had heard something about her going to her granddaughter’s recital the night before. Just as Jillian was about to reply to that, the bathroom door closed, and her mouth snapped shut.
Maribelle found herself in much the same state that she had been in the night before, a bit flabbergasted, but not sure of exactly what she had done wrong. She couldn’t be mad at the girl, but she wasn’t going to deceive herself into thinking she had heard wrong, this time. She blotted her moist head with a paper towel, then reached into her pocket and pulled out her cosmetic powder. A pink tutu fell out of her pocket and fluttered slowly to towards the ground. She snatched it quickly in mid-flight, and shoved it back into her pocket. She couldn’t believe that she had forgotten to take that out of her pocket. She had been wearing her jacket for days now with that in there, and it could have fallen out at any time. Her breathing was ragged as she splashed cold water on her face and tried to calm down. Thankfully, no one came in and she was able to pull herself together quite nicely.
When Maribelle was back at her table, Jillian came over and knelt down at the end of the booth, leaning in to talk to her privately. “Listen, Maribelle, I’m not sure what you heard on your way to the bathroom. My curiosity gets the best of me sometimes, and I tend to gossip. I know this is not a noble character trait, and I apologize if I offended you.”
Maribelle smiled thinly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear.”
Jillian flushed red and stood up quickly, off her guard for the first time that Maribelle had ever seen. Maribelle was quite pleased to see the shoe on the other foot. Jillian showed a nervous smile, and mumbled about checking on the food, then darted away.
When she returned, it was with Maribelle’s food, and she had pulled herself back together. She was just as good a server as she had been the night before, pitching in all of the little extras. Maribelle did not let the discomfiting events that started off the dinner put a damper on the rest; she stayed for coffee, and dessert, and thoroughly enjoyed it all. When she was satisfied, she thanked and tipped Jillian graciously, and headed out the door.
She backed her little Kia down to the edge of the woods; she could just see the sun starting to set. She pulled the big blue cooler out of the trunk, along with the blue plastic plates. She opened the bloody gallon sized bag of ground meat, and began pouring it onto the plates. The cats circled her feet, purring and woawing. She pet the little family of brown and white calicos as they ate, then brought some food to an older yellow cat. He looked a bit weak, so she set it down in front of him and began shooing cats away from around him. He picked up a big hunk of meat and made off with it, away from the feeding frenzy and down the path a little ways. The other cats watched him go, but did not pursue in favor of remaining with the source of the food for the time. She doled out all of the food that was in her cooler, and waited until the cats had licked the plates clean. She picked up the plates, stacking them neatly. She opened the cooler, and placed them on top of the empty, but dirty, bags. She put the cooler back into her trunk, wiped her hands off on a towel that she kept in there, and got behind the wheel. As she was going by the front door of the restaurant, Jillian came out. She slowed down and waved, and Jillian waved back. She stopped for a moment to see if Jillian was coming out for her. Jillian walked right down to the stretch of woods where Maribelle had been feeding the cats, and lit up a cigarette. Maribelle smiled. The girl did have her vices, after all. Those things will kill you, Maribelle thought. Maribelle had been debating not coming back to the restaurant, but now she knew that she would make one last stop. She wouldn’t eat here again, but she would have to stop by the following night and thank Jillian for her services, while she was out having her nightly cigarette. If she was off the following night, well, Maribelle would stop by the next night. She was very patient. She would feel bad for leaving these cats, but there were cats everywhere in need of food and attention. She liked it here in Florida, but she was thinking that she would go further south, maybe Miami. Within the week, she would be gone. She could feel it when she had outstayed her welcome.
Jillian lit up her cigarette and walked down to the edge of the woods. She was staring at the now deeply setting sun, marveling at it. As she looked back towards the earth, a skinny man with very long, greasy, black hair came out of the woods and onto the path in front of her, startling her. Her looked at her and smiled; his dirty, misshapen teeth disgusting the already startled girl. She stepped backwards a few feet, and he continued on his way, going down the path into the woods, away from Jillian. He almost tripped on a mangy yellow cat. He disappeared from view and the cat came up next to Jillian, something hanging from its mouth. The cat dropped the object next to Jillian and she bent to pick it up, patting the cat as she did. It was a tiny finger, the nail painted pink. A tiny palm tree sticker was on the nail. Jillian began to scream, and did not stop even as the other employees and customers came out of the restaurant. Her screams were background music for them as they began to search the woods for the bum that killed the little girl.