Ragamuffin
Marie Lloyd shut her old, obnoxious alarm off and forced herself to sit up with her feet dangling off the bed. she yawned feebly and forced herself to get up and walk to her bathroom, which was connected to her bedroom in her shabby, rundown house. As she brushed her teeth, she studied the faint wrinkles that were visible on the edges of her lips and under her eyes. She wondered whether it had been the depression of repeated failures or age itself that had put the wrinkles on her face. She spat the toothpaste out. As she lifted her head back up, she looked into her hollow, defeated eyes and wondered what had been wrong with her life. How had love, or even something as simple as success, passed her by? All she knew was that she didn't have the time or the money to do anything about it.
Marie went back into her bedroom, got out of her threadbare negligee and into sweatpants and a clean T-shirt. It was Saturday, so no spirit-grinding work just the joy of bills to pay.
"Meow." A familiar yowling filled her aching heart with warmth. She looked down and saw her cat twisting in and out between her legs. He got up on his hind legs and pawing gently at her right leg. He was so gentle, she had never needed to get him de-clawed.
"Morning, Ragamuffin," Marie said sweetly. She bent over and picked her only friend up. Ragamuffin propped his front paws right on her shoulder and gave Marie her morning face licking (cats weren't as affectionate as dogs, but the good ones still knew how to show their masters they loved them). Marie carried her fluff ball (his thick fur always looked as if he had been run through the dryer) into her cramped kitchen. She set Ragamuffin down on the island counter and proceeded to open the refrigerator. She pulled a carton of milk out of the fridge, closed the door, and got out a bowl and breakfast cereal. she dumped enough cereal into the bowl to fill it, then opened the milk carton. a few measly drops fell from the carton.
"Oh," said Marie, dejected. "I gave the rest to you last night, didn't I?" Ragamuffin mewled sadly, watching as Marie threw the carton into the trash. Marie spooned dry cereal into her mouth as she watched Ragamuffin streak towards the trash can, sniffing it to make absolutely sure there was no more milk. Marie's eyes flitted to the small, empty table where her television had once sat. She had had to sell most of her possessions so that she could feed Ragamuffin. Minimum wage at a grocery store could barely keep her home paid for, much less Ragamuffin, and he didn't eat that much. Marie felt a gentle weight settle onto her lap as Ragamuffin jumped into her lap and began purring like a car engine. Marie finished her dry cereal and her glass of water. She placed Ragamuffin gently on the counter and went to get his food. She picked up the nearly-empty bag of cat food and Ragamuffin's bowl. she opened the bag...and dumped out just barely enough to feed her friend. Ragamuffin nosed the contents of the dish and then meowed inquisitively.
"Sorry, sweetie. That's all I have. Look," Marie opened the bag and Ragamuffin stuck his head in. He sniffed for a moment, then his usually perky whiskers drooped and he went back to the meager picking in his bowl. Marie crumpled the bag up and slouched off to her cramped office.
Marie paid her house and utility bills first. Living this close to the city was expensive, and the one thousand dollar bill she just paid sucked the few earnings she had up like a vacuum. The utilities were only eighty dollars (it wasn't like she had a television or even a cell phone anymore), and the internet bill cost her the last hundred dollars she had. That left a pitiful fifty dollars for cheap food, and that was supposed to survive until her next paycheck.
"Oh, no," Marie whispered. "No, no, no." She had no money for Ragamuffin's cat food. His food, at the cheapest, was ten dollars or more. Marie was already going hungry with only fifty bucks for food. A horrible image of Ragamuffin, skeletal and dying, but still meowing so sweetly to Marie came into her head. She shook herself of that horrible specter.
"No!" she cried. "I won't let him suffer because I'm poor." Marie knew she had to give him up, but she couldn't bear the thought. She glared angrily at her checking account as if she could force the numbers to change. As the heart-breaking truth seeped into her unwilling mind like acid, she remembered there was a middle-class family that had always been good to her. They had been looking for a cat for their little girl.
"Meow?" Ragamuffin trotted in on her. She didn't usually take this long to pay bills.
"Oh, sweetie." Marie took Ragamuffin into her arms and squeezed his soft, fluffy body for the last time crying uncontrollably as she did so. She put Ragamuffin in the carrying case she had used to take him to the vet, got her keys, and headed out the door to her beat-down old car (which was the next thing she would probably lose).
Marie walked numbly up the path to the Fielder's residence, Ragamuffin tucked safely into his carrying case. They had a lawn that was green and well-kempt, except for the toys scattered all over. Marie knocked on the door and the wife opened it. Vanessa was a stunningly beautiful woman, so beautiful that Marie always felt like she was shriveling up and getting older just by standing next to her.
"Hi, Marie!" Vanessa exclaimed. She always seemed to be in such a good mood.
"Hi, Vanessa." Marie choked out. "I, um, I was wondering if you were still looking for a cat for your daughter?" Vanessa blinked confusedly.
"Um, yes. We were going to the pet store today when Robbie got home from work, actually, why?" Marie wordlessly held up Ragamuffin's carrying case.
"I can't afford him anymore." She sputtered, trying to hold back tears. "I know this is sudden, but please, take him so he doesn't go hungry." Vanessa awkwardly took the case away from Marie. She looked Marie dead in the eyes and said tenderly.
"Marie, if you need money..."
"No," Marie said sternly, getting a little iron in her voice. "I won't be a burden. Just take care of Ragamuffin. I won't have him go hungry."
"Okay," Vanessa said, examining Ragamuffin. "He looks sweet. I'm sure he'll be great for my little girl." Marie suddenly began to have flashbacks: Ragamuffin as a kitten, playing with a ball of yarn; Ragamuffin, curled up and purring gently in her lap, as he comforted her over her breakup with her only serious boyfriend. And more would have kept coming, but Marie forced herself to turn away, walking as briskly as she could, before she could change her mind.
"Meow!" She heard Ragamuffin calling out to her. She had never left him with someone else, ever.
"MEOW!" Ragamuffin's call became forlorn as the door closed behind Marie. She got in her car, sobbing freely as she drove away from her only real friend.
THE END
