Janu wiped the counter with a dripping cloth, the edges of black marble still sending drops of milk down. Drip, trickle, slide in jagged lines of white.
Her palm felt sticky when she removed it and she glanced down at it, licking at her fingers idly as the stench began covering the kitchen. Burnt milk clogged the nostril till you could taste nothing but it, no matter how carefully you filtered it into a cup later.
It was a winter’s morning and the newspaper boy wouldn’t ring. The noise of rolled up sheets hitting the door would be the warning if she wanted to get it before the garbade lady came. Janu liked her, with the fragrance of freshly stuffed fish and jasmine wafting as she walked to dump the bin from every house.
There was plenty of leftover food mixed into plastic bags when she left to throw it to the bigger van. Janu envied her. The plastic, she could do without.
Picking up her mug of smoked milk, she padded into the living room and squinted at the curtains. She remembered moving it before she went to make her cup.
The cat shuffled in the armchair opposite the television and she stared. Blink. Exhale.
She dragged the blue draped back to their original position, the calm of darkness falling over the furniture again. The sofa looked better in blue, didn’t it? White showed too many stains.
The TV remote was safe under the cushion of the sofa and she settled into place. Legs tucked under, one arm leaning against the arm-rest. The red button pressed and the screen came to life, bright against the darkened walls.
One sip of milk, licking against the rim to catch every drop. The cat looked murderous. It still licked its mouth in mimicry.
The smoke ran through her throat and she rubbed her nose, glaring down at her hands. She would taste this for the rest of the day now.
A jingle caught her attention but she ignored it. She was having a good day today. She felt lazy.
Again.
Her finger pressed a button and the channel changed, louder sound coming on as a harried man stared into the camera as he spoke to it. Nobody replied, she saw with amusement as she raised the cup to her lips.
Jingle.
Her eyes moved and the cat kept scratching. The bedroom door, she knew, and sighed. She was having a good day.
Maybe the cat wasn’t in the mood to have one.
The mug went down on the elegant glass coffee table and she eyed it, the passing urge to drop it leaving before it completed. She was getting better at knowing which ones to ignore.
Everybody had called her smart, hadn’t they?
Stretching her back, she stood up and walked out of the living room. There was a small corridor that linked it to the sole bedroom. The other room was a ‘guest’ room. She didn’t like guests.
The cat was still scratching at the door, trying to leave claw marks on the wood. It must hurt, she considered. Declawing always did.
It stopped when she reached up behind it but didn’t turn. She waited till it sat away from the door before smiling, satisfied. Training seemed to be working.
As a reward, she opened the knob and the cat turned then, tilting its head up to stare at her. She pushed the door open wide but it didn’t go in.
She waited again. Patience was a wonderful trait to have.
The cat finally turned back to look at the room and stumbled in, its paws hurrying as it went further. It’s tail was alert, raised and nervous as it butted against the corner chair, the leg of the dresser, and then came to a standstill.
The bed was lovely from her vantage point. Soft, warm, comfortable.
The cat leapt up to it and moved till it reached the pillow. Searching for an old one. Familiarity was important.
She preferred change. She had changed the pillow.
The cat slowly turned around to face her and she could see it shake, tiny and frustrated.
It wailed. Once, twice, shrieking at the ceiling and to the walls.
Janu was used to the sound by now. Ignoring usually quietened it.
There was a thud against the main door and she smiled happily. The newspaper was here.
She had missed it the day before, the kids from the opposite home taking it up before she could take it. It had been a horrible day.
The cat yelled again and she frowned at it. It was being unreasonable, more than usual. She’d get a headache at this rate, wouldn’t she?
It tried to run when she went to put the disciplining cone but she was faster with practice. She had run away from worse and it was still learning.
The cat hated the cone more than being locked out of the bedroom and it went stock-still when she ran her hand over its fur. She was gentle. It was important to be gentle with those weaker than you.
As she was about to leave the room, her eyes caught the mirror on the dressing table. Her hair was a mess, she noticed, pulled out from every direction.
She pressed her hands against her hair, pushing it back and licked her palm to set it better. She didn’t understand the gels and sprays. Wasn’t water much better anyway, she reasoned.
Before leaving, she glanced at the bottle of perfume and grinned. It was pretty. Glass.
She swiped at it and watched it crash against the floor.
The cat whimpered behind her and she nodded to the mess before exiting.
Life was much better as a human. She’d consider staying one for longer than a month maybe.
It would give the human more time to understand why being a cat wasn’t easy. How being scared wasn’t fun. What being small and uncared for actually meant.
Janu had a much better hold on being a master than a pet anyway.
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