The Cat King

Patient ID: 3111

Name: χάος (kháos)

Sex: N/A

Case File: The Cat King

Notes: χάος also known as Chaos/kháos has made good progress with sympathy. Below is an event in which she took part transcribed by Reese Parker.

• Excerpt taken from Thaddeus Botgore Session #3111 recorded 2028

“Hi ho

Sing sing

All hail

The Cat King”

“Meoooow!”

“Riley!” Shouted a voice from down the hall. The voice wasn’t angry as it was frustrated.

“Sorry Dad.” shouted Riley.

Riley raced down the stairs avoiding tripping to his death as an overweight orange tabby wove through his legs like an uncoordinated figure skater.

“Patches stop it!” Riley said.

Patches looked up at him with big saucer eyes that showed both confusion and love.

“Come on.” Riley said as he walked over to the cupboard where the cat’s food remained locked behind a door inaccessible to those without opposable thumbs.

He grabbed the blue bag labeled “Purr-fect” with a cartoon cat smiling with a napkin around its neck and a fork and knife in hand. He placed the bag on the counter and reached in for a bright red plastic measuring cup that read “1/2 cup”. Riley measured out the kibble watching as one or two pieces made a quick escape only to be devoured by the creature that waited beneath. Patches paced in between Riley’s legs cooing and purring with an excitement that implied she hasn’t been fed in ages. Every morning the routine is the same and it’s Riley’s favorite part of the day. Patches is a consistent reminder that love exists and the feeling is wonderful.

Riley was a smart kid, smarter than most his age. People used to joke that he was an old man in a child’s body. His short chestnut hair cut in the shape of a salad bowl and a large hook nose didn’t help but Riley kept cutting his hair that way because people would say he looked like his father. He looked up to his father the way most kids looked up to Superman or Firemen.

Riley didn’t have many friends but those he did have were closer than family.

His best friend Jacob Backbore lived a few houses down in what’s known as “The Bayview Mansion”, its name given by the surrounding neighbors who for the last eighty years passed their bungalows from parent to child.

When the Backbore family moved in they were the first of their generation to live on this street since 1931. William Backbore, Jacob’s father, was a tall Jewish man with curly chocolate brown hair and a crooked nose he got when he fell off his bike on his sixth birthday. Since then, his deviated septum has caused him grief but he never got it fixed. “Don’t like going under.” Jacob would often hear him say when speaking among friends. William was an educated man, a doctor of oncology and a successful one at that. Fresh out of medical school William began working as an intern at Toronto General Hospital. Trying to be the best doctor he could be, William read voraciously about Ancient Chinese Medicine. While the majority of his colleagues saw little to no value in herbal medicine, William thought it was against the very nature of science to dismiss without first investigating. The next year of Williams life would be under the microscope. Everything from Bear gallbladder to parasitic fungi was investigated. Most of the research came up with nothing until one day, William discovered the Lion’s Mane Mushroom more traditionally known by the Chinese as “Hou Tou Gu”. The Mushroom contained proteins which William discovered devoured cancerous cells without harming the healthy ones. The first trials concluded that the results of the fungi was a fluke and as a result and because the school felt William wasted both time and money he was released from his internship at Toronto General.

Several months later a journalist from Sweden saw William lecturing about the benefits of Lion’s Mane as a cancer treatment at a local breast cancer charity event. The journalist asked William if he would be interested in having an article written about the subject. William agreed to an interview and one month later the article was published.

At the time, William didn’t know it but the journalist was the leading medical journalist in Sweden. Williams’ publication was read by all the top oncologists in the world. After the article made a buzz in the medical community, William had à la carte to work wherever he wanted.

William chose to work under the guidance of the top oncologist in North America. Dr. Stephen Schnider. Dr Schnider was a doctor to the rich and famous and with that reputation came unlimited money to research whatever his heart desired. William was given permission to further his research on the Lions Mane and within a year, he was able to synthesize the protein thus replicating it easily. Within one year of successful trials the drug was approved for use on humans. The first patient was a terminal four year old with an inoperable brain tumor. Within six treatments the child’s tumor shrunk from the size of a baseball to a dime. The medical community was astonished. The following year William was nominated and won the Nobel Prize for Advancements in Medicine.

While accepting his award, Williams’ eyes met a young woman with fiery red hair and eyes as blue as the sky. She was in her early twenties and had the body of a ballerina. As William retells the story it was love at first sight but as Kate remembers it, she declined him several times before she finally agreed to go out for drinks.

“I figured one drink and he’d leave me alone.” she would tell a party of local friends and family most half in the bag. Followed by “People say being a stay at home mom is easy, let me let you in on a little secret, your job ends at 9–5, mine never ends!”

She wasn’t wrong. The “Bayview Mansion” was a behemoth of a house. The stucco walls and iron rod gate surrounding paled in comparison to the inside.

The neighborhood would joke it’s the local museum.

Riley never noticed Jacob’s house or the money they had. To Riley, Jacob was a friend and a best one at that.

The boys spent all winter cooped up inside awaiting the day the snow would finally stop so they could start playing outside again. The games they played varied from year to year depending what interested them. Two years ago the boys were ninjas protecting the neighborhood from the enemy ninjas that would attack the unsuspecting victims. Last year was a zombie invasion, but this year was different. During the winter months Riley and Jacob fell in love with Sherlock Holmes. The boys would go to each other’s houses and read together trying to predict the ending before Holmes. Their favorite was when Mr. Merryweather discovered a tunnel in the basement of the bank dug by Ross and Spaulding.

With the sun rising, the trees in full bloom, the birds began to sing their morning songs.

Their songs as beautiful as they were woke Riley from his slumber. He looked at the clock and saw it was 6:30 a.m. Other than his dad, Riley was certain he was the only one awake. Despite it being much earlier than usual, Riley couldn’t sleep because today was the first night in a weekend sleepover at Jacobs house.

Riley gently opened his door in hopes to mute the loud creak of the rusted metal hinges and not wake his mom who was sound asleep in the next room. With the door open just enough, he slipped through the small crack. The cold hardwood floor creaked with each step. As he made his way down the old creaky stairs he braced for the fat little torpedo to dart between his legs like an uncoordinated figure skater.

Riley made it to the bottom of the stairs without trouble. Standing at the bottom of the stairs he waited a minute to see his best friend emerge from his slumber. One minute turned into two “Patches must be tired.” Riley thought to himself. Riley made his way to the kitchen to grab a bowl of Captain Crunch and talk to his dad. To his surprise, the kitchen was empty.

“That’s odd, dad’s always up by now.” Riley thought to himself.

Riley opened the cupboard and measured half a cup of food for patches. “A nice little surprise for when he wakes up.”

He parked himself in front of the television in the living room and turned it on, it was 6:37 a.m. too early for morning cartoons, the only station that wasn’t selling battery powered toilet brushes was PBS and they were airing a documentary about World War Two. Riley cared as much about World War Two as he did algebra, still, with nothing else on, he watched crunching away on his cereal.

Cannons roared from the speakers as a man dressed in military equipment explained the specs of the 914mm “Little David’’ and how it was specifically crafted to destroy Japanese bunkers. “BANG!” went the sound of the cannons in quick succession. The man firing smiled at the camera as if the cannon was representative of his raw power.

Suddenly, Riley heard footsteps. The creak of the old wooden floor squealed with each descending step. The footsteps sounded heavy but too heavy even for a fat cat.

A voice emerged from the top of the stairs “Riley!” Turn it down!” followed by the voice was the sound of stomping footsteps. Riley’s father appeared in a creased white dress-shirt and crinkled khaki jeans covered in cat shedding from laying on the floor too long. His hair was disheveled and the bags under his eyes weighed his face down like an anchor. When Riley turned around to smile at him his tone quickly changed “Rye buddy, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get upset. It was a long night. Little sleep. It was wrong for me to snap. I’m sorry buddy.”

With a tone that only a child can possess Riley said “that’s okay dad, I love you!”. Riley’s father placed his cold hand on Riley’s head and played with his hair. “Love ya too bud!”

Riley’s father made his way into the kitchen and clicked the coffee machine which began to rumble a low growl. Riley looked at the top of the stairs waiting to see his orange hairball excited for breakfast but nothing was there.

He leaned forward to shut off the television as an elderly man was explaining the tragedy that was Normandy. With an empty cereal bowl in hand, he walked over to the counter. “Where’s patches?” Riley asked his dad.

“What do you mean?” Riley’s dad asked as he watched the coffee slowly drip into the glass pot. Riley looked down at the untouched food bowl. “Patches hasn’t eaten yet. I woke up and he was still sleeping.”

Pouring the coffee into his mug the steam jumped to the sky dissipating into an acidic smell that filled the room and attacked the senses awake.

“I’m sure he’s just tired.” Riley’s father said as he made his way to the door that connected the home to the garage. A large padlock sat on the door. Riley knew the garage was where his dad worked and was told under no circumstances was he allowed in. One time, Riley’s dad had to step outside to meet a friend, that’s when curiosity took over and Riley peaked inside. What he saw was more boring than he could have ever imagined. Paper lined the walls with scribbles of words, numbers and symbols he didn’t understand. Pencils and blueprints and tools for measuring lined the tables in what his dad would describe as “an organized mess”. Riley knew his dad was an architect but other than being related to building, he had little idea what his father did but knew it was somehow related to houses.

Riley’s father opened the door a crack and slipped through before sticking his head out and saying “Love ya buddy. I’m sure Patches will wake up soon.”

It was now 9:00 and Riley’s mom was making her way downstairs in her oversized nightgown with pink writing that said “don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee.” Stair by stair the steps sung the song of its people creaking under the weight of her small frame. She saw Riley sitting by the television. With one eye open as she adjusts to the sunlight she said in a sleepy voice “Morning handsome.”

Riley turned around and in a joyous voice and said “Hi mom! Was patches sleeping with you?” He broke the number one rule, talking to her before coffee. She raised her hands to her eyebrows and rubbed them as her brain slowly prepared for the onslaught of the day. Riley’s mother was taking Riley’s younger brother Barker to Florida to visit grandma and grandpa. The day snuck up quick and there was still so much to do. “What? Patches? Uh..No sweetie. He wasn’t in my room, wh..”

Before she could finish he darted past her flying up the stairs in a matter of seconds. “Patches! Patches!” Riley called out in a concerned tone hoping hearing his name would awaken the beast from his slumber. There was no response. Riley tried to remain calm but even at twelve, he knew something felt wrong. Riley darted into the bathroom with the pink tile that ran up the walls. The neon lighting made the whole room look clinical and cold. “Patches?” Riley called. Nothing. The shower curtain was closed and while he never shared this with even his closest friend, a closed curtain caused him anxiety. Who or what could be on the other side of that curtain? He didn’t know and didn’t want to know but patches was missing and if facing the shower demon was what he needed to do to get his best friend back? Well, it was a risk worth taking. Riley approached the pink shower curtain slowly. His heart raced in his chest as his palms became clammy. As his mind played over multiple scenarios in which as he goes to open the curtain, a giant claw like hands with needles for nails grabs him devouring his soul into the netherworld to suffer forever. As his hands inched closer to the curtain his stomach was in his throat. “Turn back! Run away!” his mind played these thoughts over and over like a skipping record. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the curtain and quickly yanked it to the left hoping he would surprise whoever or whatever was hiding. To his disappointment (and somewhat relief) there was nothing there. No demon, no claws and no Patches.

Riley left the bathroom “Patches? Paaaatches!” His voice echoed off the walls. He peaked inside his room, the closet was closed and under the bed was as clean as a whistle, Riley’s dad would have it no other way.

He peeked into his parents room, a room which like the garage is normally off limits but today was different, today was an emergency. Riley stuck his head into his parents room and whispered “Paaaatches!”

No response.

Jacob Backbore arrived on his royal blue huffy he so aptly named “Big Blue”. As he pulled into the newly paved driveway his tires glided on the fresh black asphalt. Imitating his favorite action stars Jacob leapt off the still moving bike watching as it continued for a few feet until it gently collapsed into the grass. Jacob ran up to the front door knocking manically. Riley’s mom answered the door in a bright blue summer dress. Next to her were stacked suitcases filled to the brim. Riley’s little brother sat next to the luggage in a carrier drooling all over a green plastic star. “Excited for summer I see.”

“Yes ma’am.” Riley’s mom smiled then turned around “Riley, Jacobs here.” She looked back at Jacob. “I’m sure he’ll be just a second.” Riley’s mother was a sweet person with a big heart, unfortunately, her frame wasn’t as lucky. She was small and rail thin, despite the luggage weighing easily as much as her, she did her best to carry it to the car. Jacob watched as she dragged the luggage, scraping it on the ground. “Let me help.” Jacob said as he lifted the luggage from the bottom evening out the load. “Normally, Howard does this for me but he’s so busy with work this weekend.” It was weird to hear adults refer to each other by their first name. Like finding your parents stepping out of the shower, something about using first names with elders felt wrong.

As they pushed the last heavy suitcase into the trunk Riley shouted “It’s summer!”

Jacob ran to Riley and stuck out a flat palm. He knew what this meant and began to make a fist and bring it down into the palm. What results was an elaborate secret handshake that they must never share.

While performing this elaborate handshake Riley turned around “Mom! Don’t look!”

“Sorry sweetie.” A smile drew across her face as she brought her flattened hand to her eyes pretending not to look.

With the boys done, Riley’s mom could return to the land of the seeing. “Okay boys, you two have fun.” She dropped down to Riley’s level.

Before she could speak Riley cut her off. “I know mom. Don’t bother him when he’s working.”

“Please. He’s under a lot of stress.”

“But mom..”

“Patches is okay.” she looked at him in the eyes. “Riley sweetheart, have I ever lied to you? Have I ever said things would be okay when they weren’t?”

Riley’s eyes welled up, his lip pouted as he shook his head back and forth.

“This is no different. I know it’s scary but you need to be strong for him. Patches will come wandering in like the King of Siam begging your dad, annoying him for dinner while he’s trying to work.

“I hope so.” He said with no emotion.

They all giggled.

Her tone became more serious. “Please have fun this weekend. I’ll be home soon and so will Patches. “I love you sweetie.” She kissed him gently on the head in a way only a mother can.

“Bye Jacob, take good care of him for me.”

Jacob giggled. “Yes ma’am.”

With Riley’s little brother safely strapped into the backseat, Riley’s mother backed out of the driveway and while blowing kisses drove off into the distance.

The boys walked over to Big Blue sunbathing in the grass. The black tires picked up some grass clippings which dyed the rubber a faint shade of green.

“I’ll be right back.” Riley said as he made his way to the back of the house.

“Where are you going?”

“Dad’s working on a new project in the garage, he built a new shed where we moved everything but I got a sick bike rack!” Riley motioned for Jacob to follow. The boys walked around the house into the backyard. Behind a yard of freshly trimmed grass sat a tiny metal shed blanketed in fresh ivory paint. A small metal roof sat atop to keep the inside dry. Riley had a wild imagination and imagined a small family of gnomes taking shelter inside the shed when the weather became too much to bear.

Riley opened the door to the shed and the thick smell of fresh paint and cut wood clung to the boys throats causing them to scrunch their noses. “Hurry up!” Jacob said as he covered his nose and mouth. “It stinks!”

Riley pointed to a red bike sitting on two black metal bars used as a bike rack. He shakily lowered the bike to the ground and wheeled it out of the shed. As the boys walked the bike over to the front of the house, Riley noticed something shining in the grass. As he walked over to the object it became clear it was a tag with a name engraved on it. “Hello, I’m Patches and I belong to the Cuttler Family on 73 Jarvis Rd. If you find me please call them at (919) 747–6151

Riley looked up at jacob “It….It’s one of Patches tags.” Cupping his mouth with both hands Riley shouted “Paaaaatches! Paaaatches!” He continued to make kissy noises. “Paatches!”

Today was a perfect summer day. What few clouds there were hung in a powder blue sky like giant pillows. Normally, the boys would gaze into the clouds and find dinosaurs, spaceships and whatever else came to their imagination but today was different. Despite the blue sky, Riley had a black cloud over his head. The boys rode around the neighborhood hoping to find Patches lazily sleeping on someone’s porch.

“Should we make posters?”

“We can. I guess.”

“I guess?” Asked Riley resentfully.

With hesitance in his voice Jacob asked “Hasn’t Patches done this before?”

There was silence among the boys except for the clicking of the spokes on the Ten of Hearts clipped to Riley’s back wheel.

The boys rode in silence until they reached Chestom St where they noticed a young Becca Schlegel, a third grader crying on her stoop. She wasn’t just upset but distraught. Tears ran down her chubby cheeks, her face was beat red as she hyperventilated between sobs to catch her breath. Riley has never seen anyone this upset. Without thinking he approached her. “Are you okay?” She turned around to acknowledge them but said nothing. She continued to cry. Riley could sense the pain radiating from her. He gently placed a hand on her back. He looked at Jacob who looked back at him and shrugged.

Riley thought for a moment. “How would dad handle this?” “Becca, is your mom home?” Riley thought that was a good question. His mom always made him feel better, why wouldn’t hers help her?

“Cupcake……is…missing…” she said between sobs barely making out a coherent sentence. Riley looked at Jacob who looked back at him with a glare that said “We have a case.” and just like that, Cuttler and Backbore detective agency was founded.

Riley and Jacob knew how to start an investigation. Winter nights filled with private lessons from Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John H. Watson have provided the boys with enough insight to at the very least, question the witness.

Jacob pulled out a little brown notebook from his back pocket. It had a light blue dinosaur on the cover but since residing in his back pocket the image has now become cracked and faded. Jacob opened the notebook flipping the cover and first few pages. Riley tried to read what it said but it was indiscernible. Holding a bright orange #2 pencil in hand Jacob asked in his most professional voice “When was the victim last seen?”

“Victim?” Becca said with a confused tone.

“When did you last see Cupcake?” Riley interjected.

Jacob scoffed at the civilian speak.

Becca looked up to the sky and said “Uhh…This morning? I was watching Powder Time.”

“Powder Time is such a girls show.”

“Jacob!” Riley snapped.

Jacob receded and began to chew on his #2 pencil.

Becca continued. “Every morning he sits and waits for my milk. Momma don like it but is okay.”

“Then what happened?”

Becca looked up as she thought. “Umm…I finished my cereal and he wasn’t there to drink my milk because he always drinks my milk so I checked his bed and he wasn’t there so I checked his litter box and he wasn’t there so I looked under the covers…”

“Let me guess, he wasn’t there?”

“Jacob!” Riley snapped. Jacob shut up looking at Riley with embarrassment. Jacob meant nothing by it but talking to a third grader could seriously come back to haunt him. Jacob looked around to make sure no one saw this conversation then nervously returned to his wooden pacifier.

“Has Cupcake ever escaped before?” Riley asked. A smile grew across his face. That was a good question and he knew it. Suddenly, he felt like a real detective, Riley Holmes.

Becca shook her head. “No, Cupcake, he was indoor.”

A voice called from inside the house. Becca turned around and said “Coming mom.” Then she turned back to Riley “I miss Cupcake.” He saw the pain in her swollen tear filled eyes. Pain he could relate all too much. “I promise we’ll find Cupcake.” a little smile broke through the sadness as she met his words. She turned around and headed inside. Riley turned to Jacob and said “Got all that?”

Jacob looked at him, pencil in mouth and said “What?”

It was noon and the sun hung in the sky illuminating all of Toronto in its golden rays. Riley and Jacob were hovering by a phone pole reading a flyer that was loosely taped to the rotting wooden pole.

“Black fur, green eyes.” Riley turned to Jacob who was molar deep into his #2. “Gettin all this?”

Jacob sprung to attention. “Uh.” Jacob looked down at his blank notepad. “Yeah, almost done.” He quickly scribbled a description continually looking up to ensure what he wrote was accurate.

“Says she was indoor too.” Riley turned to Jacob. “I think this is bigger than we thought.”

Riley’s attention was stolen by the sound of metal breaking against metal. The metal breaks let out a loud cry followed by the sound of rubber tires skidding on the road. A tall boy with curly red hair walked over to Riley. Behind him were his two best friends, a chubby boy with a ripped Nirvana shirt probably given to him from his once cool dad and next to him a lanky boy with greasy straight hair hiding eyes that said “I’ll be a burnout in no time.” The three boys dressed in camo pants with combat boots. The boy with red hair did most of the talking while his friends stood there and tried their best to impersonate someone who’s tough.

“What are you faggots doing?”

“Not now Sean.”

Sean the red headed leader with no brake pads turned to his friends. They watched him with anticipation. Sean pushed Riley. “I ain’t gonna take shit from some little faggot.”

Jacob was a neurotic kid and mostly avoided confrontation. “Just leave. We’re busy!” Riley said.

The boys in the back chuckled at the arrogance of speaking like that to someone twice your size. “Fuck em up mayne!” The fat one retorted between labored breaths. Sean paid no mind to his friend, instead, his eyes were locked on the poster. He looked down and said “This Mrs. Melonies cat, Buster?”

Riley nodded.

“I used to babysit him when he was a kitten.”

Riley was surprised to see anything other than anger come from Sean let alone dare Riley think it…humanity?

A voice from behind rang out. “What’s the little faggot saying?”

Sean whipped his head around “Will, shut the fuck up! Alright?”

The boys were taken back. They leaned into each other and started mumbling. Sean paid no attention, there were more important things.

“What the fuck.” Sean said under his breath. As the realization hit him.

“Cat’s missing?” Riley asked with a bluntness that can only be acquired from years in the streets.

Sean was taken back by the question. “If you did anything to her I will fucking gut..” Sean was cut off.

“My cats missing too. So is Becca’s and Mrs. Swathornes. Jacob emerging from his #2 induced haze spoke up “We’re currently investigating it. If you know anything…”

“I don’t know fuck!” Sean snapped as he turned to his friends. “Fuck you lookin at?” Both boys cowered and pretended to look busy.

Sean turned back to the boys. “Know Merle The Girl?”

Riley shrugged.

Jacob spoke up. “You mean the guy who wears the dirty wig?”

“That’s him” Sean turned around to see if his friends were eavesdropping. They were but pretended not to listen. Sean turned back trying to whisper “He owns a junkyard at the end of town. Rumors were that he stole children and used them for..well, it doesn’t matter. Point is, I wonder if he has something…”

Riley cut him off. “Where is he?”

Jacob grabbed his drool covered pencil and wrote an address. The saliva ran down the pencil and blotted the page.

The boys began to head into the direction of the junkyard. Riley turned back to Sean and under his breath he mouthed “Thank you.” Sean cracked a subtle smile then turned around.

“The fuck was that all about?” Asked the greasy haired friend.

“Mind your fuckin business!”

The sun hung over a now cloudy sky as the boys made it to the edge of town. The heat rippled the asphalt causing the illusion that the ground liquified. The hot rays charred the boys skin to a beat red cooking their arms and face. Sweat pouring down his face breathing heavily Jacob asked “How big’s this hill?”

Between labored breaths Riley said “Just…a..nother…block.”

Riley, a few feet ahead of Jacob, began to laugh.

“What?” Jacob asked. It wasn’t long before he began to drop his curiosity and laugh as well. As the ground leveled out to a steady surface the boys laid their eyes on the biggest mountain of garbage they never imagined.

Unfortunately for the boys, their noses caught up to their eyes. Without warning the sweet and putrid smell of rotten produce and decaying meat attacked the senses in a symphony of stomach churning triggers.

“Ugh it smells like shit!” Jacob said, covering his nose. Riley looked at Jacob forgetting about the tragedy of the smell thanks to the use of a word often thought but rarely said. Getting in trouble for naughty words were the least of the problems for the boys. Half of the town was missing cats and this mountain of forgotten knick-knacks and Christmas gifts of days old could hold the answers (and some cats).

A large framed steel gate guarded the property in a giant square. Despite its gargantuan size, age has taken its best years turning an otherwise sturdy fence into a rusted monolith of a time long before. A large red sign mostly covered by a thick layer of grime and rust hung loosely from a rusted nail sloppily hammered into a rotting piece of wood. The sign read “Keep Out! Watch dog on gurad.”

“What’s gurad?” Asked Riley.

“I think that’s what my grandmother would make for Rosh Hashanah.”

Riley didn’t think that made sense but continued on. “Let’s follow the fence, I bet we can find a way in.”

The boys walked along the fence looking for any tears or openings in which they could use as an opportunity to sneak in.

“There!” Riley pointed. In a small corner where two fences met there was a small gap barely wide enough to fit. Riley tried first. The rusted metal clung to his T-shirt spraying flakes of rust in the air and all over his face. “Pfft!” Riley blew the specks away from his face and mouth. The rust dust danced with the summer heat and dissipated in the wind.

“I can’t fit there.” Jacob said.

“So wait here. I’ll be quick.” Jacob was taken back by this response. He looked both ways to ensure the coast was clear and slowly wedged himself between the poles.

Like an invisible barrier, as soon as the boys made it to the other side, the smell became much stronger. Add in the summer heat and you have a rotting goulash with a stink strong enough to wake the dead.

Mountains of mementos lost to time towered over the boys as flies darted between the skyscrapers of discarded Christmas cards, used tampons, rusted pans and broken glass.

Riley scouted his surroundings looking for any signs of Patches but it all looked (and smelled) the same. Piles of junk once a treasured memory now lost forever to become one with the giant crater floating in space.

“Paaaatches!” Riley shouted in a whisper.

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked. Riley looked back in confusion as if to say “Don’t you know why we’re here?”

“Patches responds to his name. If he’s here, he’ll come.”

Suddenly, the boys heard something move. Atop a giant pile of rusted car parts a small hunk of metal jiggled. The boys watched as the sheet of aluminum came to life moving in sporadic jerky motions.

“That’s Patches!”. Riley made his way to the base of the rusted mountain and whispered “Patches! Pssst! Pssst!” The movement stopped.

Jacob approached with hesitation as he watched Riley coax the thing behind the metal sheet. No movement. Whether it was a moment of impulsiveness or he was overtaken by the spirit of spontaneity it didn’t matter, without hesitation Jacob grabbed a small black rock and whipped it at the metal sheet. Riley, stunned by the action, turned around but before he spoke, he was startled. Without warning a little body jumped from behind the metal sheet. Its body was fat with gray and black fur. Its face was pure horror, its eyes saucers that looked through you. The raccoon scurried down the mountain passing the boys without thinking twice. Behind the pudgy raccoon was two smaller raccoons with little stubby legs. Not as graceful as the mother they stumbled down the mountain occasionally bumping their head but waddling away all the same. The raccoon startled the boys so much they didn’t realize behind them stood a ninety pound Doberman growling with not so much anger as excitement for fresh meat. Jacob looked at Riley, the look on his face, the fear in his eyes said one thing. “This is it.”

Riley was horrified. He could feel his bones shake, his muscles twitch, it isn’t until you’re staring down ninety pounds of flesh tearing predator that you realize you’re just a bag of fear in pretty skin. He was no longer present, instead, the reptilian part of his brain took over. Hands out in flat palms facing the snarling beast Riley said “Hey buddy, we’re looking for our friend. Can we be friends?”

Was this a stupid idea? Riley thought so. Jacob had no opinion. Other than releasing what little was left in his bladder, Jacob was already dead, he was just waiting for his body to get the memo. Jacob watched although not taking much in as Riley tried to reason with the beast. Riley looked behind him and pointed. “This is my best friend Jacob.”

“Dude! Don’t tell him my name!”

Riley looked behind him to talk to Jacob, it was that moment the dog lunged, snapping his jaws in the air. As the dog flew through the air, time stopped. The boys watched as ninety pounds of flesh-tearing anger leapt in their direction without hesitation. Riley closed his eyes. There was nothing left to do but accept fate. In his last moments he remembered Patches, his cute little pink nose, the little pitter-patter of his paws on the hardwood floor, the late night cuddle sessions on cold winter days. If this was how things ended, if Riley had to die looking for his best friend, it was a life well lived. As these thoughts passed, he noticed it was taking longer than anticipated to die. More curious than fearful Riley opened his eyes. To his surprise, a man in steel toe boots, oil covered blue overalls and a dirty undershirt stood in front of them. The mans cracked and calloused hands held onto the dog’s collar. Grime and dirt under his nails indicated he must work here. His bald head, scarce of hair now mostly replaced by a thick layer of grime, was confirmation of his job as much as his lack of teeth.

“Chu boys doin here?” He asked in a gravelly voice.

“Excuse me sir, I apologize, we got lost.”

The man slapped the dog’s butt and yelled “Go on! Git!” and the dog slowly sauntered away. The man turned his attention back to the boys.

“I ain’t no time fer bullshit. Whacha boys doin here? Ye one of Sean’s friend?”

The boys looked at each other.

“Uhh..Yeah! We go to school with Sean.” Riley said.

It wasn’t a lie. Maybe they weren’t friends but they did go to school together.

“How many times I gottsta tell tha sumbitch not be bringin friends round.”

The man let out a long drawn sigh and wiped his greasy head. Grime from his fingers left a large black streak on his sweaty head.

“I’ll show yaout. Now don be comin back yahear? I can’t be no response-able if what happens.”

The man turned around to look at his dog laying in her dog house. “I can’t be response-able ifa what Bertha here might do. She’s a wile one.”

He turned back to her again. “Ain’t that righ-baby!”

The dog half stood for a moment.

“Al-right now don’t getcha crazyin now.” The dog sat down in disappointment.

The boys have seen enough. If they never came back here, that was too soon. The man escorted them through the main gate. The sun was starting to set creating a sky that had the weight and color of creamy coffee. The boys walked around the fence to where they left their bikes and headed back to Jacobs for dinner.

The sun was starting to dim in the summer sky. As they came up to Breeker St Riley stopped and said “I know a shortcut!” His eyes lit up with excitement. “When my dad took me to the planetarium he showed me this way. Says he used to cross this alley all the time as a kid.” Jacob shrugged and followed suit. The alleyway was guarded by two large green garbage bins. The air in the alley was thick and resembled a sweet combination of decay and vinegar. Graffiti painted the walls in dirty limericks that Riley tried to read as he passed.

“There once was a woman named Jill Who swallowed an exploding pill They found her Vagina in North Carolina

The rest was written over.

As the boys approached the end of the alley, light shone through like a crack in a mine. A north star guided the boys back to civilization. As the light grew the city opened up. The smell of decay began to fade as exhaust and the smell of city living took hold again.

“Uhh Rye…” Jacob said with concern in his voice.

“What?”

Jacob pointed down and much like his mental state, his tire was also deflated. Riley stepped off his bike as if a closer inspection may patch the hole.

Riley looked up at Jacob who was looking down at him hoping for a solution. To Jacobs’ disappointment, Riley said “Think we can make it back to my place?”

The boys made their way back to Riley’s. Riley pedaled just fast enough to maintain balance while Jacob wobbled gently as he rode trying to maintain the integrity of the flat tire.

“Have you ever done this before?” Asked Jacob

“Yes, well, no, not really. My dad did. But I’ve watched a gazillion times.”

“Okay.” The “okay” didn’t sound too confident but if his tire could hold on, so could his hope.

When the boys arrived at Riley’s house his dads car sat in the driveway, he knew for certain his dad was home. Worst case, he could just ask his dad to fix the tire but hoped he wouldn’t have to. The boys parked their bikes on the front lawn. Riley turned to Jacob and said “I’ll be right back.” Jacob nodded.

As Riley headed towards the house Jacob asked “Aren’t you going to take my bike?”

“My dad’s working. I’ll quietly grab the tools.” Jacob nodded.

The house was eerily quiet. Without Riley’s mother singing in the kitchen or his little brother crying, the house felt more like four walls and a roof than a home. “Two more days.” He thought to himself. Riley never realized how much he missed them until he stepped into the empty house.

Riley could hear faint muffles coming from the door leading to the garage. Normally, the door is closed and locked but with the house to himself, dad is free to clutter every flat surface with his boring blueprints and legal contracts.

Riley imagined what his dad could be working on. Numbers lined the walls with blueprints and designs. Conversations and contractors, city planners and engineers. He didn’t understand much but he knew his dad was important and that was enough for Riley.

As he made his way to the door, the muffled noises became louder. It almost sounded like singing. Riley quietly peeked through the crack to see what his dad was up to not to interrupt him mid conversation. Riley’s father was dancing around his “office” . The walls were lined with red paint scribbles in letters that Riley didn’t recognize. Clotheslines lined the walls with corpses of skins from what appeared to be animals. Riley suddenly put names to the corpses. The gray tabby with short hair in the corner was Cupcake. The large black cat hung by the garage door, its innards still fresh and shiny was Buster, Mrs. Melonies cat. There were cats everywhere. The smell made him want to vomit but fear kept it down. Riley’s father wasn’t in his traditional three piece suit but instead was as naked as the day he was born and instead of silk, blood covered his body again with symbols Riley didn’t understand. His eyes were two dinner plates, the whites of his eyes were eclipsed by giant pupils. Riley couldn’t believe his eyes for on his fathers head was an orange tabby, gutted and left empty like a pillowcase. The corpse hung on his head like a hat. Front paws hung by his eyes as the tail made for a makeshift ponytail. The blood from the skin dripped down his face and back painting him in blood. Worst of all, the name tag glimmered in the neon light. The blood filled in the carved in groves of the tag. In blood red the tag read “Hello, I’m patches.”

His dad didn’t notice him. He was transfixed by his ritual, dancing around singing in a throaty voice releasing noises Riley never imagined a human could make. As he danced in the skin, innards in hand he sang.

“Hi ho

Sing sing

All hail

The Cat King”

Riley ran out of the house. The fresh air made no difference. The world he knew would never be the same. Riley was no longer a kid and soon, Jacob wouldn’t be either. Since Riley could remember, he wanted to be a detective, he wanted to solve mysteries but as he learned today, some mysteries are better left unsolved.

THE END.

Dr. Botgore: In our world, those cats meant a great deal to those people.

Chaos: Not as much as you may think Doctor. You humans are benighted at the best of times. Your capacity for love only exists as far as it’s convenience.

Dr. Botgore: Humans are complicated, while they might lack the omniscience capabilities such as yourself, might that be the value of what makes them human?

Chaos: I create and destroy an infinity of universes in the time it takes a human to blink. My power is beyond your comprehension. What is but a few lives in the grand scheme?

Dr. Botgore: To them, “the few lives” are their universe.

Originally published at https://botgore.substack.com.