Post by Skyfall on Aug 10, 2016 10:56:11 GMT -5
When a Reaper Comes Calling
Waves hit the rocks, the sound echoing along the beach. The ocean seemed to roar and snarl with each wave, culminating with a mighty crash. The eroded rocks looked worn, weathered. The saline water slowly chipped away at any sharp points until they were nonexistent, like little sculptors, shaping the Nature’s canvas. At this section of the shore, the rocks were large, some towering above the others at five feet high. Most were smaller than that though—smallest probably half a foot. Most ranged from one foot to three, but there were the exceptional few. These stones created their own hazardous landscape, just as wild and primal as the waves that battered them. Tide pools were scattered amongst them—little ecosystems and worlds of their own. Unfortunate fish and other aquatic fauna found their way into these pools during the high tide and were stuck there in the water that was slowly turning stagnant. These pools and the food sources they provided were enough to entice several creatures to the precarious shore.
Acorn was one such creature.
He had grown up near the beach and knew its dangers. Something about the wild, ruggedness of the beach attracted him. Not only that, but this was where he could be free. This was where Acorn could escape from the hawk-like gazes of his parents, the cruelty of his peers, and the disapproving glares of siblings who considered him to be the black sheep of the family. It was there that he could be free, where he could be happy—where he could be himself.
The days spent on the beach were days he would look back on with fond nostalgia—days of fun, peace, and healing.
But days like that, they seldom last for long.
One day, Acorn went to the beach as always only to find it occupied. Another cat was sitting on his favorite rock—one that was slightly taller than the others with a tide pool at its base. This cat looked smaller than him, even from a good distance away. One of the first things that struck him was the cat’s pelt; it was the color of a burnt sun—a blood-red color with darker, russet-colored stripes.
He avoided the beach that day and ventured back into the safety of the pines that lined the edge of the beach. He was certain that he had never seen that cat before; he certainly would have recognized such a unique pelt.
The next day, he tried again, but the red-furred cat was there. Irritation began to prickle through Acorn. His blood boiled slightly as he stalked off back into the pines. Who did this cat think they were to just come out of nowhere and claim the beach for itself? So, Acorn came up with a new strategy. He went to the beach early in the morning then, claimed his spot, and relaxed. The morning sun felt good on his fur and he basked in it. It laid on his usual rock, stretching and listening to the crashing of the waves without a care in the world. At that moment, things could not have been better.
Until he opened his eyes. When he did so, he saw the perpetrator that had been keeping him from his favorite spot for two days. The red-furred cat was standing a few paces away at the base of the rock, looking up at Acorn inquisitively. “Who are you?” the red-furred cat inquired.
The question sparked raged in brown tabby. “The better question is who you are. I come to this beach every day so I can be by myself and get some peace and quiet! You’ve been here the past two days and have been ruining everything! Since when is this your territory? I don’t smell any scent markers so what makes you think you can just lay claim to it?” Acorn had not mean to go off and be so venomous, but he simply could not stop himself. Once the words were flowing, they slipped out as though they were on slick ice.
While he ranted, the red-furred cat just stared at him with large green eyes. When Acorn finally concluded, the red-furred cat flicked an ear. “I didn’t smell any scent marks from you either,” he pointed out. “I never claimed that the beach was my territory, but you seem to be doing so. If you wanted me to leave yesterday or the day before, all you had to do was ask.”
Acorn opened his mouth, a harsh retort ready on his tongue but stopped himself as the tom’s words sunk in. He realized how outrageous and mean he was being and felt self-conscious. “I…” he mumbled, at a loss for words now. How could have had so much to say just a few moments ago but his brain was now drawing a complete blank? Perhaps the brain is so hardwired for defense it rarely plans to admit that it was wrong. “I always come here. It’s the only place I have to be alone.”
The red tom cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
He snorted. “Because I can’t be alone anywhere else,” he snapped in response. “I have a family and a group of cats that I live with. And I’m relatively positive that they hate me or at the very least consider me a burden. So I give them a break from me and come here during the day. It’s better for everyone that way.”
The red tom did not reply but looked around at the other rocks. “There are lots of rocks on this beach, you know. Would it be so bad if I sat on another one?”
Acorn felt his pelt bristle but forced his fur to lie flat the best he could. “I guess not…” he muttered grudgingly.
With a nod, the red tom leapt up onto the rock right beside Acorn’s and sat down. He began to groom himself as though nothing had transpired between the two. After a minute or so, the red tom paused in his grooming and shot a glance at Acorn.
“My name’s Fox, by the way.”
“You’re a cat named Fox?” Acorn repeated, slightly amused.
“Yeah,” Fox answered defensively. “That’s what my mom called me. What’s your name?”
Acorn sighed. He debated not answering for a moment, but shook his head with a sigh. Fox might be a thorn in his side, but he did not seem like a bad cat. He actually appeared very level-headed and rational even when Acorn had not been. “It’s Acorn.”
Fox let out an amused laugh. “Acorn? You laughed at me being named fox and you’re named after a freaking acorn?” The red tom began to laugh, his sides heaving. To his great astonishment, Acorn found himself laughing to. It was as though he finally was seeing how stupid he had been. His behavior was downright silly and he could not help but laugh at it, and the fact that he had chuckled at Fox’s name.
“I guess that is stupid,” he said once his fit of laughter subsided. “I’m sorry about those things I said earlier. It all seems so silly now. I’m usually not like that.”
The red tom gave a good-natured shrug. “Hey, it’s okay. You said this is where you come to be alone, right? If I had a special place I liked to be alone, I doubt that I would be too pleased if someone showed up out of nowhere. How long have you been coming here?”
“Since I still had my kitten fur,” Acorn told him. “I was about six moons old when I found it. My brother was making fun of me with the other kits at our camp so I ran off. I ran so far I found this place. I remember the sea that day… It was wilder than usual. It had the ferocity of the lions in the stories my mother always used to tell. It was so strong—stronger than my brother and the other kits, stronger than my parents, stronger than any cat in our group. I remember watching the giant waves as they crashed against the rocks, battering them. The foam that they left in their wake made me think that the rocks were bleeding. I just watched the waves attack, retreat, attack, then retreat again. It was an endless motion—a constant war that it raged on these rocks. It was not only powerful but persistent… It never stopped, never gave up… And I just remember thinking that I wanted to be just like the sea—like the crashing waves that dominate everything in their path. I’ve been coming here ever since.” Acorn then realized that he had been rambling. He looked at his paws and felt his ears grow hot. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I had talked for so long.”
Fox just shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I get that this place is very important to you. You don’t get along with your family, do you?” he asked, his piercing green gaze turning on him.
The question threw Acorn off a little bit. He looked over at the red tom and shrugged. “Why?”
“Well you mentioned earlier that you think they hate you or at least consider you a burden. Plus, this place is your only solace, and it’s hardly peaceful. It’s anything but, really… Turbulent, hostile… Not the type of place one would usually go to relax,” Fox observed. His eyes turned their attention to the waves. They were lapping at the rocks now, as innocent and gentle as a kitten suckling on its mother’s teat. It would not be like that for much longer, though. Acorn knew that; he had witnessed it at its full potential.
“I guess not,” he allowed with a small sigh. “No, my family and I don’t get along.”
“Do you want to tell me about them?” Fox continued to press. The tom’s green gaze returned to Acorn’s.
Under any other circumstances, Acorn would have rejected this. He would have said some choice words to Fox and stalked off back into the pines. He would return to his cold and unreceptive family and be ignored and forgotten about. However, something compelled him to open up… A part of him, dare he say, wanted to. There was a complete stranger that knew nothing about Acorn, nor his family. He was an impartial third party that could listen to Acorn’s own frustrations without feeling the need to defend the other side. This was the first opportunity he ever had to vent about his family and say out loud what he truly thought, and how they made him feel.
“I… I’ve never really talked to anyone about them before,” Acorn confessed. In fact, the more he thought about it, he could not recall a time when he had talked to anyone like this—about the sea, about his family, even about his own feelings.
Fox shrugged and continued to look at the tom kindly. “Well, perhaps now is a good time to start. One cannot keep their emotions bottled up inside them forever, you know.”
Acorn nodded, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. He had kept a lot of his emotions inside him; he had kept them hidden and locked away in the deepest recesses of his soul. Now he finally had a chance to unleash them. The idea was so enticing and offered such a tremendous amount of relief, Acorn began to speak. He told Fox everything he had been hiding for so many moons. Just like earlier, the words began to spill from his mouth before he could stop them.
“My family lives with a few other little families of cats. I’m the youngest of my siblings. In most cases, you hear of the youngest ones being the pampered ones—the ones that get all the attention while the older siblings were shoved aside… Well it could not be more opposite. I have three older siblings—one brother and two sisters. My brother’s name is Patch and my sisters’ names are Nutmeg and Juniper. Patch is the cause for most of my grief. Nutmeg and Juniper are not too bad. They’re annoying in condescending in their own way, but Patch is the real abusive one. He’s the one whose words sting like sharp claws, and his claws are even worse. My parents have always turned their heads to Patch’s… recreational activities. And that’s literally what they are, too. He beats me up for fun because I’m the youngest and I’m not strong enough to fight back, even now that I’m grown up.
“My parents never get physical with me like Patch does, but in the verbal department, they’re just as terrible. They always considered me and called me the runt. It was apparent from the moment I could comprehend what they were saying that they believed I would die early on. Clearly, I didn’t. I proved them wrong all the time. I worked hard trying to show them that I was better than they thought I was. But no matter what I did, nothing ever changed. All I wanted was their respect—to see some proud gleam in their eyes. My mom, Willow, always ignored me or told me to go outside the den and play. My father, Smoke, always insulted me and said I was too small and couldn’t even take down a leaf if I tried. Not much has changed since back then. Willow still denies my existence, but Smoke’s remarks have just gotten worse and more wounding. Like, just the other day he was making fun of me and said that no she-cat would ever want to have kits with me because my kits would be scrawny, weak, and ugly like me. But… I don’t want to talk about them anymore.
“Like I said before, my family lived with several others. I think there were five in total, mine included. But I only ever really spent time with one other and that was simply because they had kits about my age. There were only two of them, though. Their names were Pike and Thistle, both toms. They were just as mean and Patch and always hung out with him. They didn’t have a dad so they spent time with Smoke. Their mother, Marigold, was a sweet she-cat. Her fur was the color of the flower she was named after and her eyes were like warm honey. I always used to wish, and still kind of do, that she was my mother instead of Willow. She was always so nice to me… She’s probably the one cat back home who has never said anything mean or degrading to me… This is probably gonna sound weird but I kind of had a crush on her when I was younger. I know now that it’s unrealistic and she would never consider being with someone who is the same age as her kits, but when I becoming more of an adolescent, I paid more attention to her… Well… I paid attention to things she did and her appearance the way I hadn’t before. She was so beautiful… Even now, so many moons later, she still has a graceful, older beauty about her. But, like I said, I know that there is no chance between us. It’s too weird, even if I do still kind of have a crush on her.
“One time, after Smoke had done his usual thing and make me hate myself for the umpteenth time, I ran off. I sprinting into the pine trees and didn’t look back, fully intending to run away. I just kept running… Running… Running until my muscles were screaming in pain and I had to stop. I kind of just flopped onto the needle-ridden forest floor and laid there. I looked up and the sunlight was slanting through the trees, casting unintelligible patterns on the ground. I stared at them and watched as they changed as the sun moved through the sky. I wasn’t at the beach, but I was so comfy just lying there without a care in the world. Then she came along. I remember how she called my name with such concern. I looked up to see her standing there, her brow furrowed. She asked me several questions—why I was out there, what I was doing, if I was okay. I answered them all and she nodded at me. I could tell she didn’t believe everything I told her—much of it was lies. She left, but came back after a while with a fat squirrel. She dropped it in front of my face and ordered me to eat. When I tried to refuse, she put on her mom-voice and forced me to take at least one bite. As I ate, she told me that she wasn’t stupid and knew how Smoke, Willow, and Patch treated me. She said that she wished with all her heart that she could take me away from that… And I can’t tell you how much I wanted it—how much I wanted to run away with her… just the two of us in a pine forest by this rocky shore… I wanted to lie on this rock with her next to me and breathe in her sweet scent and just enjoy her close company… I wanted to be intimate with her—lean her deepest, darkest secrets and tell her my own. I wanted to know everything about this peculiar she-cat that was my saving grace. But she told me that she couldn’t do that and that I needed to be strong and persevere… She promised me that I would be okay and I would survive my family and come out stronger than ever.
“I didn’t believe her… I still don’t. But I know that she was trying to help. After I finished the squirrel, we both went back to the camp together. When we returned and my parents questioned where I was, Marigold stood up for me and said that we hunted together and ate our prizes before we got back. When she said that, I felt… happy for the first time in a long time. We looked at each other and shared a little smile… It was our little secret, you know. It was personal and it made me feel special that she would have that kind of connection with me. It was something that I cherished greatly and still do. But the connection we had… it’s gone now. I mean… I’ve grown up and we’ve grown apart. I didn’t want us to, but it was inevitable. She couldn’t come to my defense every time I was in trouble… And what I thought we had was, of course, nothing like what she thought it was.
“Sometimes when I missed her company, I’d go back to the pines and find that spot where I’d laid the day she found me. I’d lay there and reimagine the scene and how it happened… It sounds weird, I know… But I don’t really have a lot of good memories. That remains to be one of the best memories I have, even moons later.”
Acorn went silent then. He looked out at the swirling gray waves. They were more violent now and slammed against the rocks with more force. Some of the lower tide pools were submerged again, their inhabitants now able to return to their home. The brown tabby tom sighed and laid down on the smooth stone. Resting his head on his paws, his sides heaved. He had done well not thinking about Marigold for some time. A part of him felt relieved to talk about her again… but at the same time it was like pouring salt into a fresh wound.
Fox studied him with sympathetic eyes. “You’ve had a rough life, Acorn. I don’t envy you. But I assure you that what awaits you now will be better.”
Those words caught his attention. Acorn sat up a little. “What do you mean?”
The red tom peered at Acorn with those piercing emerald eyes. “What can you tell me of the past three days, Acorn?”
Fox’s question only further confused him. “The past three days?” Acorn repeated. “Why? I mean… Nothing has happened really.”
“Think carefully.”
“Why? What are you getting at?”
“I just want you to tell me what happened the past three days. Consider this day three and start with day one. I need you to remember what happened day one, Acorn. I need you to remember and tell me,” Fox meowed.
At first, Acorn thought the red tom was joking, but he quickly realized that he was completely serious. “But… why?”
“Humor me.”
So Acorn did.
Three days ago, was a bit of a blur to Acorn. Not much was clear to him, at least that stuff that happened early on. At around sunhigh, he had been making his way to the beach. Everything had been going well until he ran into Patch. The larger black-and-white tom gave him a sinister grin when he saw him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my little bro. Going off to sulk and hate yourself because you’re a failure and an embarrassment to the family?” Patch proceeded to cackle at his own joke and circled his younger brother.
Acorn just sighed. For some reason, he felt especially exhausted that day. He was not in the mood to pander to his brother’s needs and pretend to be intimidated by him. “Get out of my way, Patch.” He attempted to stride forward, but the larger cat stepped in his way.
“Ho-ho, looks like you got some attitude on you today. I’ll have to do something about that,” Patch sneered. He stepped close to Acorn so that their noses were almost touching.
The smaller tom felt a growl rise in his throat. Before he could stop himself, his unsheathed claws were ripping through the flesh of his brother’s cheek. A dark, crimson liquid squirted out onto the needles and ran down Acorn’s paw. The feeling made his gut wretch; it was so warm and soaked into his fur. Patch let out a shout of agony and staggered back from Acorn’s attack. His sides were heaving and, after a few moments, looked up at his younger brother. Acorn saw the fury in his brother’s eyes and took a terrified step back, but the damage was done.
Patch attacked with such ferocity that Acorn began to fear for his life. The larger tom tackled the brown tabby to the ground. His claws began to rip and tear at Acorn’s flesh. Acorn felt more blood on his fur, but knew that this was his now, not his brother’s. The pain was indescribable. All he could do was screech in pain and pray that Patch took pity on him. When that did not work, be began to beg. Patch’s claws at torn and ripped through his shoulder blades and were now digging into his stomach.
“SHUT UP!” Patch roared and sank his fangs into Acorn’s throat.
The pain, the blood loss—it all became too much. Acorn felt consciousness and reality slip away from him and closed his eyes. The darkness consumed him and he felt a peaceful wave crash over him.
He woke what must have been several hours later. His body still ached and he cleaned up the blood that still stained his fur. His injuries were bad but they did not hurt as much as he thought they would. Acorn did not return to his family that night, nor did he go back the next two days. He stayed away from them and tried to come up with a plan when he was not angry a Fox for taking his spot on the beach. He wanted to leave his family far behind and go somewhere else—somewhere entirely new where he could make his own way and create a new life for himself.
He told Fox all this and when it was done, he noticed another look of sympathy in the ginger tom’s eyes. “You… You don’t even know, do you?” he asked quietly. “I suppose it should have been obvious from how you spoke.”
“Huh?”
Fox looked Acorn directly in the eyes. “Acorn… You didn’t get up after your fight with Patch.”
“What?” he hissed in disbelief. He sprung to his paws then, pelt bristling and teeth bared. He felt an overwhelming, sickening dread flood over him. “What are you…? No! No, you lie!”
“No, Acorn. I’m not lying. Why do you think I appeared out of nowhere and suddenly began to come to your favorite spot every day?” Fox inquired. His voice was eerily calm, but also had a soothing quality to it. He spoke as though he were a father, gently trying to reassure or calm his kit. “You’re dead, Acorn. Patch killed you. Right now, you are a bodiless entity—a spirit wandering the pine forest and this beach. Your brother fled after he realized you were dead and told the others that you had been killed by, ironically, a fox. Your parents did not question him, but Marigold went out to find your body. She smelled Patch’s scent all over you. She cried over you and wished that she had done more to protect you.”
Pain flooded Acorn’s chest and made it difficult to breathe. The idea of Marigold crying over him… blaming herself and wishing she had done more was too much. He stared at Fox, tears flooding his eyes. “Why are you saying all this?”
Fox got to his paws then. “Do you know what I am, Acorn?”
He shook his head.
“I’m what they call a reaper. I collect the dead when it is their time to pass on. Acorn, it is your time to leave this world. That’s why I’m here,” Fox mewed. “Your family—Marigold—they will all go on without you. I’ve seen many things—terrible things. I’ve collected good cats and bad and taken them to where they belong. I have been alive for a very long time and have spoken to several cats just like yourself—young cats. Cats that have so much potential but have their lives cut short. I do not like my job, Acorn, but it is a necessary one. I deliver cats to the eternities they deserve, and I will do the same to you.
“I know this is overwhelming—frightening, even. You think that this can’t be—you have the rest of your life to live. You have so much more that you need to do. I hate to tell you this, Acorn, but the world is a giant place. Your death will affect a small number of people, but will not shatter the world’s balance. When you look at the grand scheme of things, you are an insignificant blade of grass in a huge meadow. Even though you may be insignificant to the world, your life is all you have. And I know that it is not easy to… accept your death, but you must. You must come with me, Acorn and I will take you to your eternity.”
Acorn stared at the red tom. If this had happened any other time, he would have called Fox a lunatic and walked off. However, it was as though Acorn knew that this was real. Every word Fox uttered crashed down on him with the same power as the turbulent waves of the beach. He cleared his throat and looked at his paws. “And what if I don’t go with you?”
Fox sighed and looked out to the vast ocean. “You do not have to come with me, Acorn. If you reject me, I will leave, and I will not come back. Your soul will wander endlessly through the sands of time. Years upon years will pass, and everyone you know will die and go to their eternities. You will remain. Alone. And over time, it will drive you to insanity, perhaps even violence. You will become a vengeful spirit, traps in the realms of this world and unable to pass on. You might even harm innocent cats that wander into your path. It is your choice.”
Those words sunk into him like sharp thorns. Acorn was trembling slightly. This was all too much to process... Too much to think about… It hurt his head and was close to sending him into a blind panic. “If I go with you,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out of his mouth a little shakily. “Where will I go?”
The red tom smiled grimly. “Sorry. I can’t give away the punchline.”
Acorn raked his claws along the stone. What choice did he have? The idea of remaining here was enticing, but not at the cost of his sanity. But if he did go with Fox… where would he end up? Would he go somewhere better and finally find that happiness Marigold was so sure he would find? Or would he end up somewhere else—somewhere terrible and frightening. Look at yourself, Acorn, he told himself. Do you consider yourself to be good or bad? He knew the answer, but it was a biased one—after all, who likes to think that they are evil and cruel?
“Well,” Fox said, looking back at Acorn. “What’s it gonna be?”
The brown tabby tom gulped and gave a swift nod of consent.
Fox dipped his head, closed his eyes, and the two toms disappeared. The beach was oddly empty and silent then, and all that could be heard was the waves crashing over the rocks where the two spirits had once stood.
1
Waves hit the rocks, the sound echoing along the beach. The ocean seemed to roar and snarl with each wave, culminating with a mighty crash. The eroded rocks looked worn, weathered. The saline water slowly chipped away at any sharp points until they were nonexistent, like little sculptors, shaping the Nature’s canvas. At this section of the shore, the rocks were large, some towering above the others at five feet high. Most were smaller than that though—smallest probably half a foot. Most ranged from one foot to three, but there were the exceptional few. These stones created their own hazardous landscape, just as wild and primal as the waves that battered them. Tide pools were scattered amongst them—little ecosystems and worlds of their own. Unfortunate fish and other aquatic fauna found their way into these pools during the high tide and were stuck there in the water that was slowly turning stagnant. These pools and the food sources they provided were enough to entice several creatures to the precarious shore.
Acorn was one such creature.
He had grown up near the beach and knew its dangers. Something about the wild, ruggedness of the beach attracted him. Not only that, but this was where he could be free. This was where Acorn could escape from the hawk-like gazes of his parents, the cruelty of his peers, and the disapproving glares of siblings who considered him to be the black sheep of the family. It was there that he could be free, where he could be happy—where he could be himself.
The days spent on the beach were days he would look back on with fond nostalgia—days of fun, peace, and healing.
But days like that, they seldom last for long.
One day, Acorn went to the beach as always only to find it occupied. Another cat was sitting on his favorite rock—one that was slightly taller than the others with a tide pool at its base. This cat looked smaller than him, even from a good distance away. One of the first things that struck him was the cat’s pelt; it was the color of a burnt sun—a blood-red color with darker, russet-colored stripes.
He avoided the beach that day and ventured back into the safety of the pines that lined the edge of the beach. He was certain that he had never seen that cat before; he certainly would have recognized such a unique pelt.
The next day, he tried again, but the red-furred cat was there. Irritation began to prickle through Acorn. His blood boiled slightly as he stalked off back into the pines. Who did this cat think they were to just come out of nowhere and claim the beach for itself? So, Acorn came up with a new strategy. He went to the beach early in the morning then, claimed his spot, and relaxed. The morning sun felt good on his fur and he basked in it. It laid on his usual rock, stretching and listening to the crashing of the waves without a care in the world. At that moment, things could not have been better.
Until he opened his eyes. When he did so, he saw the perpetrator that had been keeping him from his favorite spot for two days. The red-furred cat was standing a few paces away at the base of the rock, looking up at Acorn inquisitively. “Who are you?” the red-furred cat inquired.
The question sparked raged in brown tabby. “The better question is who you are. I come to this beach every day so I can be by myself and get some peace and quiet! You’ve been here the past two days and have been ruining everything! Since when is this your territory? I don’t smell any scent markers so what makes you think you can just lay claim to it?” Acorn had not mean to go off and be so venomous, but he simply could not stop himself. Once the words were flowing, they slipped out as though they were on slick ice.
While he ranted, the red-furred cat just stared at him with large green eyes. When Acorn finally concluded, the red-furred cat flicked an ear. “I didn’t smell any scent marks from you either,” he pointed out. “I never claimed that the beach was my territory, but you seem to be doing so. If you wanted me to leave yesterday or the day before, all you had to do was ask.”
Acorn opened his mouth, a harsh retort ready on his tongue but stopped himself as the tom’s words sunk in. He realized how outrageous and mean he was being and felt self-conscious. “I…” he mumbled, at a loss for words now. How could have had so much to say just a few moments ago but his brain was now drawing a complete blank? Perhaps the brain is so hardwired for defense it rarely plans to admit that it was wrong. “I always come here. It’s the only place I have to be alone.”
The red tom cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
He snorted. “Because I can’t be alone anywhere else,” he snapped in response. “I have a family and a group of cats that I live with. And I’m relatively positive that they hate me or at the very least consider me a burden. So I give them a break from me and come here during the day. It’s better for everyone that way.”
The red tom did not reply but looked around at the other rocks. “There are lots of rocks on this beach, you know. Would it be so bad if I sat on another one?”
Acorn felt his pelt bristle but forced his fur to lie flat the best he could. “I guess not…” he muttered grudgingly.
With a nod, the red tom leapt up onto the rock right beside Acorn’s and sat down. He began to groom himself as though nothing had transpired between the two. After a minute or so, the red tom paused in his grooming and shot a glance at Acorn.
“My name’s Fox, by the way.”
“You’re a cat named Fox?” Acorn repeated, slightly amused.
“Yeah,” Fox answered defensively. “That’s what my mom called me. What’s your name?”
Acorn sighed. He debated not answering for a moment, but shook his head with a sigh. Fox might be a thorn in his side, but he did not seem like a bad cat. He actually appeared very level-headed and rational even when Acorn had not been. “It’s Acorn.”
Fox let out an amused laugh. “Acorn? You laughed at me being named fox and you’re named after a freaking acorn?” The red tom began to laugh, his sides heaving. To his great astonishment, Acorn found himself laughing to. It was as though he finally was seeing how stupid he had been. His behavior was downright silly and he could not help but laugh at it, and the fact that he had chuckled at Fox’s name.
“I guess that is stupid,” he said once his fit of laughter subsided. “I’m sorry about those things I said earlier. It all seems so silly now. I’m usually not like that.”
The red tom gave a good-natured shrug. “Hey, it’s okay. You said this is where you come to be alone, right? If I had a special place I liked to be alone, I doubt that I would be too pleased if someone showed up out of nowhere. How long have you been coming here?”
“Since I still had my kitten fur,” Acorn told him. “I was about six moons old when I found it. My brother was making fun of me with the other kits at our camp so I ran off. I ran so far I found this place. I remember the sea that day… It was wilder than usual. It had the ferocity of the lions in the stories my mother always used to tell. It was so strong—stronger than my brother and the other kits, stronger than my parents, stronger than any cat in our group. I remember watching the giant waves as they crashed against the rocks, battering them. The foam that they left in their wake made me think that the rocks were bleeding. I just watched the waves attack, retreat, attack, then retreat again. It was an endless motion—a constant war that it raged on these rocks. It was not only powerful but persistent… It never stopped, never gave up… And I just remember thinking that I wanted to be just like the sea—like the crashing waves that dominate everything in their path. I’ve been coming here ever since.” Acorn then realized that he had been rambling. He looked at his paws and felt his ears grow hot. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I had talked for so long.”
Fox just shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I get that this place is very important to you. You don’t get along with your family, do you?” he asked, his piercing green gaze turning on him.
The question threw Acorn off a little bit. He looked over at the red tom and shrugged. “Why?”
“Well you mentioned earlier that you think they hate you or at least consider you a burden. Plus, this place is your only solace, and it’s hardly peaceful. It’s anything but, really… Turbulent, hostile… Not the type of place one would usually go to relax,” Fox observed. His eyes turned their attention to the waves. They were lapping at the rocks now, as innocent and gentle as a kitten suckling on its mother’s teat. It would not be like that for much longer, though. Acorn knew that; he had witnessed it at its full potential.
“I guess not,” he allowed with a small sigh. “No, my family and I don’t get along.”
“Do you want to tell me about them?” Fox continued to press. The tom’s green gaze returned to Acorn’s.
Under any other circumstances, Acorn would have rejected this. He would have said some choice words to Fox and stalked off back into the pines. He would return to his cold and unreceptive family and be ignored and forgotten about. However, something compelled him to open up… A part of him, dare he say, wanted to. There was a complete stranger that knew nothing about Acorn, nor his family. He was an impartial third party that could listen to Acorn’s own frustrations without feeling the need to defend the other side. This was the first opportunity he ever had to vent about his family and say out loud what he truly thought, and how they made him feel.
“I… I’ve never really talked to anyone about them before,” Acorn confessed. In fact, the more he thought about it, he could not recall a time when he had talked to anyone like this—about the sea, about his family, even about his own feelings.
Fox shrugged and continued to look at the tom kindly. “Well, perhaps now is a good time to start. One cannot keep their emotions bottled up inside them forever, you know.”
Acorn nodded, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. He had kept a lot of his emotions inside him; he had kept them hidden and locked away in the deepest recesses of his soul. Now he finally had a chance to unleash them. The idea was so enticing and offered such a tremendous amount of relief, Acorn began to speak. He told Fox everything he had been hiding for so many moons. Just like earlier, the words began to spill from his mouth before he could stop them.
2
“My family lives with a few other little families of cats. I’m the youngest of my siblings. In most cases, you hear of the youngest ones being the pampered ones—the ones that get all the attention while the older siblings were shoved aside… Well it could not be more opposite. I have three older siblings—one brother and two sisters. My brother’s name is Patch and my sisters’ names are Nutmeg and Juniper. Patch is the cause for most of my grief. Nutmeg and Juniper are not too bad. They’re annoying in condescending in their own way, but Patch is the real abusive one. He’s the one whose words sting like sharp claws, and his claws are even worse. My parents have always turned their heads to Patch’s… recreational activities. And that’s literally what they are, too. He beats me up for fun because I’m the youngest and I’m not strong enough to fight back, even now that I’m grown up.
“My parents never get physical with me like Patch does, but in the verbal department, they’re just as terrible. They always considered me and called me the runt. It was apparent from the moment I could comprehend what they were saying that they believed I would die early on. Clearly, I didn’t. I proved them wrong all the time. I worked hard trying to show them that I was better than they thought I was. But no matter what I did, nothing ever changed. All I wanted was their respect—to see some proud gleam in their eyes. My mom, Willow, always ignored me or told me to go outside the den and play. My father, Smoke, always insulted me and said I was too small and couldn’t even take down a leaf if I tried. Not much has changed since back then. Willow still denies my existence, but Smoke’s remarks have just gotten worse and more wounding. Like, just the other day he was making fun of me and said that no she-cat would ever want to have kits with me because my kits would be scrawny, weak, and ugly like me. But… I don’t want to talk about them anymore.
“Like I said before, my family lived with several others. I think there were five in total, mine included. But I only ever really spent time with one other and that was simply because they had kits about my age. There were only two of them, though. Their names were Pike and Thistle, both toms. They were just as mean and Patch and always hung out with him. They didn’t have a dad so they spent time with Smoke. Their mother, Marigold, was a sweet she-cat. Her fur was the color of the flower she was named after and her eyes were like warm honey. I always used to wish, and still kind of do, that she was my mother instead of Willow. She was always so nice to me… She’s probably the one cat back home who has never said anything mean or degrading to me… This is probably gonna sound weird but I kind of had a crush on her when I was younger. I know now that it’s unrealistic and she would never consider being with someone who is the same age as her kits, but when I becoming more of an adolescent, I paid more attention to her… Well… I paid attention to things she did and her appearance the way I hadn’t before. She was so beautiful… Even now, so many moons later, she still has a graceful, older beauty about her. But, like I said, I know that there is no chance between us. It’s too weird, even if I do still kind of have a crush on her.
“One time, after Smoke had done his usual thing and make me hate myself for the umpteenth time, I ran off. I sprinting into the pine trees and didn’t look back, fully intending to run away. I just kept running… Running… Running until my muscles were screaming in pain and I had to stop. I kind of just flopped onto the needle-ridden forest floor and laid there. I looked up and the sunlight was slanting through the trees, casting unintelligible patterns on the ground. I stared at them and watched as they changed as the sun moved through the sky. I wasn’t at the beach, but I was so comfy just lying there without a care in the world. Then she came along. I remember how she called my name with such concern. I looked up to see her standing there, her brow furrowed. She asked me several questions—why I was out there, what I was doing, if I was okay. I answered them all and she nodded at me. I could tell she didn’t believe everything I told her—much of it was lies. She left, but came back after a while with a fat squirrel. She dropped it in front of my face and ordered me to eat. When I tried to refuse, she put on her mom-voice and forced me to take at least one bite. As I ate, she told me that she wasn’t stupid and knew how Smoke, Willow, and Patch treated me. She said that she wished with all her heart that she could take me away from that… And I can’t tell you how much I wanted it—how much I wanted to run away with her… just the two of us in a pine forest by this rocky shore… I wanted to lie on this rock with her next to me and breathe in her sweet scent and just enjoy her close company… I wanted to be intimate with her—lean her deepest, darkest secrets and tell her my own. I wanted to know everything about this peculiar she-cat that was my saving grace. But she told me that she couldn’t do that and that I needed to be strong and persevere… She promised me that I would be okay and I would survive my family and come out stronger than ever.
“I didn’t believe her… I still don’t. But I know that she was trying to help. After I finished the squirrel, we both went back to the camp together. When we returned and my parents questioned where I was, Marigold stood up for me and said that we hunted together and ate our prizes before we got back. When she said that, I felt… happy for the first time in a long time. We looked at each other and shared a little smile… It was our little secret, you know. It was personal and it made me feel special that she would have that kind of connection with me. It was something that I cherished greatly and still do. But the connection we had… it’s gone now. I mean… I’ve grown up and we’ve grown apart. I didn’t want us to, but it was inevitable. She couldn’t come to my defense every time I was in trouble… And what I thought we had was, of course, nothing like what she thought it was.
“Sometimes when I missed her company, I’d go back to the pines and find that spot where I’d laid the day she found me. I’d lay there and reimagine the scene and how it happened… It sounds weird, I know… But I don’t really have a lot of good memories. That remains to be one of the best memories I have, even moons later.”
Acorn went silent then. He looked out at the swirling gray waves. They were more violent now and slammed against the rocks with more force. Some of the lower tide pools were submerged again, their inhabitants now able to return to their home. The brown tabby tom sighed and laid down on the smooth stone. Resting his head on his paws, his sides heaved. He had done well not thinking about Marigold for some time. A part of him felt relieved to talk about her again… but at the same time it was like pouring salt into a fresh wound.
Fox studied him with sympathetic eyes. “You’ve had a rough life, Acorn. I don’t envy you. But I assure you that what awaits you now will be better.”
Those words caught his attention. Acorn sat up a little. “What do you mean?”
The red tom peered at Acorn with those piercing emerald eyes. “What can you tell me of the past three days, Acorn?”
Fox’s question only further confused him. “The past three days?” Acorn repeated. “Why? I mean… Nothing has happened really.”
“Think carefully.”
“Why? What are you getting at?”
“I just want you to tell me what happened the past three days. Consider this day three and start with day one. I need you to remember what happened day one, Acorn. I need you to remember and tell me,” Fox meowed.
At first, Acorn thought the red tom was joking, but he quickly realized that he was completely serious. “But… why?”
“Humor me.”
So Acorn did.
3
Three days ago, was a bit of a blur to Acorn. Not much was clear to him, at least that stuff that happened early on. At around sunhigh, he had been making his way to the beach. Everything had been going well until he ran into Patch. The larger black-and-white tom gave him a sinister grin when he saw him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my little bro. Going off to sulk and hate yourself because you’re a failure and an embarrassment to the family?” Patch proceeded to cackle at his own joke and circled his younger brother.
Acorn just sighed. For some reason, he felt especially exhausted that day. He was not in the mood to pander to his brother’s needs and pretend to be intimidated by him. “Get out of my way, Patch.” He attempted to stride forward, but the larger cat stepped in his way.
“Ho-ho, looks like you got some attitude on you today. I’ll have to do something about that,” Patch sneered. He stepped close to Acorn so that their noses were almost touching.
The smaller tom felt a growl rise in his throat. Before he could stop himself, his unsheathed claws were ripping through the flesh of his brother’s cheek. A dark, crimson liquid squirted out onto the needles and ran down Acorn’s paw. The feeling made his gut wretch; it was so warm and soaked into his fur. Patch let out a shout of agony and staggered back from Acorn’s attack. His sides were heaving and, after a few moments, looked up at his younger brother. Acorn saw the fury in his brother’s eyes and took a terrified step back, but the damage was done.
Patch attacked with such ferocity that Acorn began to fear for his life. The larger tom tackled the brown tabby to the ground. His claws began to rip and tear at Acorn’s flesh. Acorn felt more blood on his fur, but knew that this was his now, not his brother’s. The pain was indescribable. All he could do was screech in pain and pray that Patch took pity on him. When that did not work, be began to beg. Patch’s claws at torn and ripped through his shoulder blades and were now digging into his stomach.
“SHUT UP!” Patch roared and sank his fangs into Acorn’s throat.
The pain, the blood loss—it all became too much. Acorn felt consciousness and reality slip away from him and closed his eyes. The darkness consumed him and he felt a peaceful wave crash over him.
He woke what must have been several hours later. His body still ached and he cleaned up the blood that still stained his fur. His injuries were bad but they did not hurt as much as he thought they would. Acorn did not return to his family that night, nor did he go back the next two days. He stayed away from them and tried to come up with a plan when he was not angry a Fox for taking his spot on the beach. He wanted to leave his family far behind and go somewhere else—somewhere entirely new where he could make his own way and create a new life for himself.
He told Fox all this and when it was done, he noticed another look of sympathy in the ginger tom’s eyes. “You… You don’t even know, do you?” he asked quietly. “I suppose it should have been obvious from how you spoke.”
“Huh?”
Fox looked Acorn directly in the eyes. “Acorn… You didn’t get up after your fight with Patch.”
“What?” he hissed in disbelief. He sprung to his paws then, pelt bristling and teeth bared. He felt an overwhelming, sickening dread flood over him. “What are you…? No! No, you lie!”
“No, Acorn. I’m not lying. Why do you think I appeared out of nowhere and suddenly began to come to your favorite spot every day?” Fox inquired. His voice was eerily calm, but also had a soothing quality to it. He spoke as though he were a father, gently trying to reassure or calm his kit. “You’re dead, Acorn. Patch killed you. Right now, you are a bodiless entity—a spirit wandering the pine forest and this beach. Your brother fled after he realized you were dead and told the others that you had been killed by, ironically, a fox. Your parents did not question him, but Marigold went out to find your body. She smelled Patch’s scent all over you. She cried over you and wished that she had done more to protect you.”
Pain flooded Acorn’s chest and made it difficult to breathe. The idea of Marigold crying over him… blaming herself and wishing she had done more was too much. He stared at Fox, tears flooding his eyes. “Why are you saying all this?”
Fox got to his paws then. “Do you know what I am, Acorn?”
He shook his head.
“I’m what they call a reaper. I collect the dead when it is their time to pass on. Acorn, it is your time to leave this world. That’s why I’m here,” Fox mewed. “Your family—Marigold—they will all go on without you. I’ve seen many things—terrible things. I’ve collected good cats and bad and taken them to where they belong. I have been alive for a very long time and have spoken to several cats just like yourself—young cats. Cats that have so much potential but have their lives cut short. I do not like my job, Acorn, but it is a necessary one. I deliver cats to the eternities they deserve, and I will do the same to you.
“I know this is overwhelming—frightening, even. You think that this can’t be—you have the rest of your life to live. You have so much more that you need to do. I hate to tell you this, Acorn, but the world is a giant place. Your death will affect a small number of people, but will not shatter the world’s balance. When you look at the grand scheme of things, you are an insignificant blade of grass in a huge meadow. Even though you may be insignificant to the world, your life is all you have. And I know that it is not easy to… accept your death, but you must. You must come with me, Acorn and I will take you to your eternity.”
Acorn stared at the red tom. If this had happened any other time, he would have called Fox a lunatic and walked off. However, it was as though Acorn knew that this was real. Every word Fox uttered crashed down on him with the same power as the turbulent waves of the beach. He cleared his throat and looked at his paws. “And what if I don’t go with you?”
Fox sighed and looked out to the vast ocean. “You do not have to come with me, Acorn. If you reject me, I will leave, and I will not come back. Your soul will wander endlessly through the sands of time. Years upon years will pass, and everyone you know will die and go to their eternities. You will remain. Alone. And over time, it will drive you to insanity, perhaps even violence. You will become a vengeful spirit, traps in the realms of this world and unable to pass on. You might even harm innocent cats that wander into your path. It is your choice.”
Those words sunk into him like sharp thorns. Acorn was trembling slightly. This was all too much to process... Too much to think about… It hurt his head and was close to sending him into a blind panic. “If I go with you,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out of his mouth a little shakily. “Where will I go?”
The red tom smiled grimly. “Sorry. I can’t give away the punchline.”
Acorn raked his claws along the stone. What choice did he have? The idea of remaining here was enticing, but not at the cost of his sanity. But if he did go with Fox… where would he end up? Would he go somewhere better and finally find that happiness Marigold was so sure he would find? Or would he end up somewhere else—somewhere terrible and frightening. Look at yourself, Acorn, he told himself. Do you consider yourself to be good or bad? He knew the answer, but it was a biased one—after all, who likes to think that they are evil and cruel?
“Well,” Fox said, looking back at Acorn. “What’s it gonna be?”
The brown tabby tom gulped and gave a swift nod of consent.
Fox dipped his head, closed his eyes, and the two toms disappeared. The beach was oddly empty and silent then, and all that could be heard was the waves crashing over the rocks where the two spirits had once stood.