 |
Name: Max M074 Parents: Mother: F066 Blue Tiger Grizzle Velvet Checker Shaunaasais Mate: Current Location: Barney's Barn Bar |
He had the most tremendous sense of deja vu, it made him dizzy, and caused a Vortal wave that made some of the local Vortigaunts look up in surprise. Barney wasn't typically the focal point of such events, but this was very clear. It connected him to many others - Barney already was connected, to them, to the Freeman, and to the Nexus worlds from which these cats kept flapping in.
Barney said one word, "Max," and the cat fluttered toward him with a series of chirps and purred when he landed on his opened arms.
*** From Nine Half-Lives ***
Barney paused at the entrance to the grocery store, on his way out after a brief beer run. He'd run out and the big game's pre-show was only just starting. His friends, he considered, needed to pace themselves better. And, his friends needed to pay up, because this would get expensive. On his salary, he could only afford the cheap stuff, and they pissed through that like it was water.
Well it was water, but that was a rant for another, slightly more drunk moment. For this moment, however, Barney heard a sound that he'd always found to be his one true weakness. And no, that wasn't the opening of a beer bottle . A faint but furtive sound, joined by others.
“Mew!”
Kittens.
Why did it have to be kittens? Today of all days!? There was a local boy, reminded Barney of himself as a kid; with the hardly-brushed black hair, wide if slightly sad eyes, dirt smudged on his cheek. More though… Barney knew this moment of his, knew his expression intimately. He sat behind a big cardboard box with the words ‘free kitenz' on it in half-faded marker strokes. The boy's face, while briefly happy to see someone stopped to look, adopted a shadowed cast.
“Mom won't let you keep ‘em, huh?” Barney said, and the boy shook his head slowly, his lower lip starting to puff out.
Barney looked around. There were a few others like himself at the store: stocking up on booze and munchies while their friends sat in their homes, gathered around big-screens or small-screens or even radios and Jacuzzis waiting for the game to begin. He spotted a few of the Black Mesa personnel he'd seen on patrol, nodded, but noticed they had no interest at all in stopping by this boy and his box of fur-covered guilt.
“This ain't a good time of year to have kittens outside,” Barney said, and the boy nodded once more.
“Mom says they haf'ta go, we don't got enough money for food.” Even if the kid was bluffing, he was sure doing a great job of selling to Barney. Of course, he could have been giving a song-and-dance routine. Barney didn't care. What he did care about was that there were five small bundles of love in that big cardboard box. There was a knocked-over bowl of food and an equally empty water dish that had begun to soak into the box, a couple little turds as well.
But Barney saw only the ten glimmering eight-week-old eyes looking up at him, hearing their little voices, along with mouths full of those adorably sharp tiny teeth, mewing more loudly as they seemed to realize he'd been caught in their trap. Barney sighed. He looked at the shopping cart full of beer cases, and back at the kittens.
“Tell you what, kid,” Barney said, “I've got a dorm full of friends and I'm not afraid to use ‘em. I'll take the kittens off your hands for ya.”
The boy's face seemed to expand with a surprise that made Barney laugh. “ Really ?”
“Really,” Barney confirmed. “Thing is, I need to get some supplies for ‘em,” he scratched the back of his head, and glanced back down at the shopping cart. “You think you could do me the favor of grabbing me a bag of cat food and one of those double-dishes? I think I saw some in that one aisle…” He slid the kid a twenty, pretty certain it would be enough. The boy sped into the store, and equally out again, almost panicked.
“Don't go nowhere,” he breathed, “I'll be right back, mister!”
Barney chuckled as the boy ran back into the store. He couldn't have been more than maybe nine or ten, but at least he knew what needed to be done here. The security guard felt a little bad for the kid: he'd probably be doing this same thing in Fall, if they hadn't already taken care of that mom cat. Or Tom cat, whichever, didn't seem to matter.
Kneeling, Barney reached into the box and let the kittens sniff at his hand. They were a little on the young side, but he'd grown up around animals, he knew that they'd be as weaned as they'd get by now, and if not, he would… Well, he'd go get kitten formula, who was he kidding.
Barney was such a sucker for kittens.
The boy emerged from the store again with a shopping bag dangling from his neck bearing a grey-plastic double-bowl, and his arms laden with a twelve-pound bag of cat food. In his hand there were some bills. Barney took the weighty food and the plastic bag carefully, stacking them onto his loaded cart. Then he reached for the box of kittens.
The boy held his clenched hand up, “mister, you got change.”
“No, I don't,” Barney said, ruffling his fingers through the boy's hair and then placing his hand on his shoulder. “That's for you. Save up, kid, so next time you can keep one of ‘em for yourself.” The kid's smile was all the reward he'd ever need for that act. “You want to say good bye?” Barney asked, and the boy sobered again, nodding.
He gently scratched one of the kittens' heads, “this one was my favorite, I was gonna name him Max.”
Oh man, he'd already named ‘em? Barney sighed. “Well, then, Max it is, I'll take good care of ‘em, and make sure they go to the right folks. You tell your mom something for me, will you?”
“What's that?” The boy asked, curious.
“Tell her to listen to Bob Barker, okay?” Barney winked. Obviously the boy wasn't too sure what that meant, but he would oblige. After giving a slightly weepy farewell to the other kittens in the box, the boy felt a hand on his shoulder. Barney removed the food and water bowls, handing them back to the boy and sending him on his way. The box went onto the top of the cart, which rumbled onto the asphalt parking lot, and gave the kittens their first taste of car ride .
***
“Oh Barney you know they won't let us keep them ,” Lauren said, staring at the box, with the others equally enthralled. “But they're so cute! ”
The big game went on, almost ignored. Barney realized he'd forgotten litter and a box, but pulled out an aluminum pie tin, shredded up some paper to put in it, and that seemed to be just fine for the five-some of fluff-balls. They were remarkably well-behaved, in that regard.
Unlike some of his friends.
By the time the evening's events had unfolded (42 to 6? Oh please, why bother showing up?), Barney's buddies had in fact befriended the kittens and promised to keep their mouths shut about it to the Black Mesa admin. But one remained with him: Max, the grey-striped, brindled one with yellow eyes and the quietest meow of the bunch. Soft voice, except for that purr of his.
Lauren kissed Barney on the forehead when it looked like he couldn't get up out of the couch: what with that kitten curled up on his chest, just under his chin. “I'll see you later,” she said, and left the love of her life with his newest distraction.
Max grew steadily into a sleek adult. He was content, apparently, to sleep while Barney was out. Apparently: Barney wasn't at all aware that the air conditioning vent in his dorm's living room was loose. One corner of it, the side closest to the back of the couch, had lost its bolt, and provided just enough of an opening that Max could pull on it to get in, push gently to get back out.
Max always seemed to be asleep on the couch's armrest, however, whenever Barney got back home.
Barney thought that Max was a damn good cat. He wasn't noisy, wasn't aggressive at least not toward him , seemed pretty content to remain in the dorm. He hadn't tried running out into the hall, a couple of his litter mates had done that plenty of times, giving them hours of worry about whether the other less-friendly security guards would turn them in for having smuggled animals into their rooms.
Barney did give him a lot of affection, to make up for that lack of perceived territory: there were catnip mice wedged under every piece of furniture that stood more than half an inch off the floor; a set of ping pong balls skittered across the bathroom tiles or into the tub at odd hours; his old worn out shoes became a nest when he was hoarding things in the closet.
And Barney also thought that Max liked him back. It was absolutely true. Max stared at his Human, standing on his chest just a few minutes before his alarm would go off at five-forty-five every work day. Gazed down at him with those bright-yellow eyes, not saying anything, just giving off a loud, inescapable purr.
Even on the days that the alarm didn't go off, Max stood on his Human's chest, purring, at five-forty. He stood underfoot in the small kitchenette; he waited on the bathmat staring up in awe and confusion when Barney chose – chose – to get himself all wet. He batted at Barney's hand while the man tried to shave for a date, but Lauren would only ever laugh delightfully, wickedly, at the nicks and cuts that incurred.
Come to think of it, Barney realized that his one visible scar, that inch-long thing on his left cheek, had been caused by a cat. Well, not caused by, so much as happened because of . Barney appraised the cat that lay stretched half-over his lap. Whatever was on the television was of no importance to either man nor beast, but it played endlessly in the background as Barney picked up the cat's sleep-limp tail.
Barney occupied a few minutes with his sound-asleep cat, attempting to put the tip of his long tail into his ear. That took some work, and didn't quite make it before Max woke up. He stretched, spine-down, paws-up, grasped Barney's hand along with his own tail to furiously mock-bite on it.
“You're a damn good cat, Max,” Barney said, chuckling. “Sharp, but good.” He rubbed the dents in his skin where the cat's teeth had almost penetrated: almost, but never biting so hard he'd break the skin. That cat was awesome.
Max stood on Barney's lap, sat down, wrapped his tail around his white-dusted paws. He gave the feline equivalent of a knowing, wise smile, pressed his head against Barney's face, curled up and slept again before Barney could get up to pee.
Barney's Barn Bar Barn Cats ... Barney is from Half Life / Valve; Map used for bar via Gmod, apparently is from the Life is Strange game? Xen from Crowbar Collective's Black Mesa.
Individual cats will be from various artists, credited on pages.
Fonts used: Airstream, Scribble, AnimalTracks