Tom just continued sweeping. He knew better than to take this statement at face value. The small pumpkin tabby began to swirl around his legs.
“We won’t get fed at all if you keep distracting me,” he said.
“I know, and I think that’s pathetic.”
“Keep your voice down! My brother's going to hear you.”
“Why should I care? It’s not like he can understand me.”
“If you disturb him while he’s with his friends, he’ll try to make me get rid of you.”
“As if you would ever consider doing that,” it countered, pressing against his legs and making it truly impossible for him to do his chores. “He’s up there with his friends and you’re down here working, but he won’t even guarantee food and shelter, let alone money. Don’t you think it’s unfair?”
“Sure, but what can I do about it? Father left the mill to him, and no one else is going to hire me. They all think I’m crazy.”
“I feel slightly responsible for that.”
“Slightly?”
Years ago, Tom had pulled a tiny kitten out of the mill pond. Ever since that day, he could talk to animals. No one believed him though.
“Yes. That’s why I’ve decided to help you. Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. The cat was his closest friend, and it was certainly smarter than a lot of humans he’d met.
“Go get me some of your fathers old clothes.”
Tom thought about asking why, but there was a distinct possibility that this was a test. He decided to simply follow orders. It was tricky getting through the main house without his brother spotting him, but it sounded as though he and his friends were already fairly intoxicated, so it wasn't that much of a problem.
He didn’t know why the cat wanted these things, so he decided to bring his father’s boots as well. They were practically new when the old man passed away, but since they were too small for either of the boys they’d been put in storage.
When he returned, the cat was sitting on the bags of flour in the corner. It was not allowed to do this, not that it really mattered.
“You remembered to bring shoes! How clever you are,” it exclaimed, rewarding his thoughtfulness.
“What are you going to do with this stuff?” he finally asked.
“I’m going to put it on,” it said, tail twitching. “I can turn into a human.”
The statement was obviously meant to be provocative. It waited expectantly for his reaction.
“That’s not very surprising, really.”
“What? Why not?”
“It’s kind of obvious you’re not a normal animal.”
“You’re no fun,” the cat scolded.
When it began to lick its toes in irritation, Tom gave in.
“I’m sorry. Please tell me more.”
“Well, when I was little, I had a run in with a shape shifting ogre. He tried to eat me, but I tricked him into turning into a mouse and ate him instead! I was quite clever. Anyways, ever since then I could change forms. And when you jumped into the water to save me, the magic must have rubbed off on you.”
“Does that mean I could become a cat?” Tom asked, excitedly.
“Probably not, or you would have done it by now. I mean, at the time I was doing it mostly by accident. Otherwise I wouldn’t have needed your help in the first place.
“Oh. Well, can I at least watch you change?”
“No.”
“Is it really disgusting? Or is it one of those spells that only works if nobody’s watching?”
“Of course not. I just need a minute to put the clothes on.”
The change itself must have been instantaneous, but he felt like he’d been waiting for ages before he was told he could look. Belatedly, he remembered the reason for the cat’s modesty.
“You’re a girl!” he exclaimed, as if it were a surprise.
If there was any doubt that this person had once been a cat, the look she gave him would have convinced him.
“If you didn’t know that already, I take back that comment about you being clever.”
She was back on the bags of flour, pulling the boots and trying to comb out her short orange hair with her fingers. Her graceful, fastidious motions reminded him of her feline form, as did the green of her eyes and the patch of white at her throat.
“I knew! It just didn’t seem to matter before.”
“Do I make you nervous? Is this going to bother you?”she asked, stretching her arms.
“No, but if I might have brought you a different outfit. Maybe something of my mothers.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If I have to wear cloths at all, I am not being stuffed in a skirt. Why should it matter?”
“I suppose it doesn’t.”
“Glad we agree,” she said, leaping to her feet. “Shall we be off then?”
“Now?”
“Yeah! We’ll go get some food or something. It’s not like you have a reason to stay”
He looked around at the mill and all the chores still left to be done. Yet if he was really leaving home for good, it wasn’t as if his brother could punish him, and work shouldn’t have been Tom’s responsibility in the first place.
“No, I suppose I don’t.”
And with that, his companion marched him out the door. He admired how dextrous she was at walking on two legs instead of four, despite being out of practice. Then again, she was a cat.
Spoiler! :
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