Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
The girl looked up, startled by Clementine. He sat, curling his tail around his feet, and looked at her. The girl’s grey eyes widened. The whites of them were pink, those salty drops of sadness drying on her freckled face. Clementine felt alarmed. This girl was sad.
‘Hello,’ said the girl, reaching for him.
Clementine hesitated, flinching from her fingers.
He didn’t usually let strangers touch him.
He had memories of being a baby, of rough human hands and shouting, though it was all a far-off memory.
The girl drew back, looking disappointed.
Clementine knew that water on a human’s face meant something bad was happening.
He didn’t like to see that. Slowly, he approached her and pushed his head into her waiting palm.
The girl sniffled, stroking his back. Ah yes, he liked that. A purr rang from him, and she giggled with amusement.
Her lap looked comfortable. Humans were warm. Without waiting for an invitation, Clementine crawled onto the girl’s lap. As he expected, she gave a sound of delight and continued petting him.
‘Where am I, little guy?’ she said, sniffling again.
Clementine thought that was a strange question.
People who came here came for books. He had watched Mrs Cook carefully.
And the kitten boy-human, and the girl-human who called herself Chloe.
They all seemed to know what they were doing.
Visitors, too, though Clementine made himself invisible to unknown humans when he could, when he wasn’t watching from the shelf behind the reception desk.
He looked up at her face. ‘I’m lost,’ she said, still stroking his back.
Clementine supposed he should leave, but her soft hands felt so nice against his fur.
‘I ran into the barn. The children were teasing me. They always call me Carrots, because of my hair. But the colour sure looks beautiful on you.’
Clementine meowed. He hadn’t yet mastered the way of humans speaking, but he hoped he managed to get across that he understood. He was the most handsome cat he knew, and he had met many. Well, seen pictures of them.
‘There sure are a lot of books here.’ The little girl glanced around. ‘Oh, gee, now I can’t move.’
Clementine remembered the cats who had visited his library, how they had eventually returned to their books. This girl was the same, then. Clementine continued his purr, the noise increasing when the carrot-haired girl ran her hand down his back again.
‘You know, I always feel better when I talk to animals. I love cats.’ To Clementine’s horror, she hugged him close. This was too much, and he leaped off her lap.
‘Sorry.’ She giggled. ‘Oh boy, I sure feel better. You’re the best.’
There would be no other humans here until tomorrow, and the little girl was lost. He could tell by the way she glanced around, worry now entering her eyes. She was tall and skinny, and she looked fearful. ‘Where are the lights?’ she said.
Clementine forgot humans couldn’t see well in the dark. He supposed he should try to get the girl back. She wasn’t crying any more, but she didn’t seem to want to stay. Clementine ran towards the children’s section.
‘Hey, kitty! Where’re you going? I need you to help me find a way out of here! Hey!’ The girl ran after him, her hair streaming behind her. Clementine found the kids’ section and looked around at all the books. Surely one of them was the right one. It would be glowing.
He was startled when the key turned in the lock in the lobby. The girl gasped as Mrs Cook’s sweet, flowery scent entered the library.
Clementine trotted to the lobby, his jingling bell announcing his arrival. Mrs Cook would know what to do.
‘Hello, sweet boy.’ The librarian knelt to pet him. Clementine meowed at her, loud and purposeful, then trotted back to the children’s section. As he thought, the girl was still there, standing meekly and half hidden in shadow.
‘Another one, hmm?’ Mrs Cook sounded amused. ‘Come on, now, dearie, let’s get you home.’
‘You can get me back?’ The girl sounded so relieved. Clementine felt a little sorry for her. He rubbed himself against her bare leg until she giggled.
‘All you need to do is tell me your name, and we’ll get you back in no time,’ said Mrs Cook, laying down her bag. ‘It’s a good thing I forgot my purse, isn’t it, Clementine?’
‘What a sweet name.’ The girl petted Clementine again, smiling. The cat knew what human happiness looked like, or at least the simple version. He thought she looked happy now, and Mrs Cook seemed to have things under control.
‘Have you been crying?’ Mrs Cook asked the girl as she rifled through shelves. ‘Are you all right, love?’
The girl nodded. ‘I was lost. The kids were giving me a hard time. I was in the depths of despair, so I ran to the barn, but I woke up here. With your cat. I sure feel better now, though. What an adventure.’
‘Ah, here it is.’ Mrs Cook rose, an old book in her hand. ‘We’ll have you back in no time. Say goodbye to Clementine, dear.’
‘Bye, Clementine! This sure was fun.’ The girl beamed. When Mrs Cook had finished reading her line aloud, the waving girl was gone.
Thank goodness, thought the cat. There had been a few too many newcomers in the library lately for his liking.
Tail in the air, he left the human to it and went in search of the bowl of water Mrs Cook had likely left out for him. He found it in the kitchen.
‘You know, I could have sworn I put my purse in my bag before I left earlier.’ Mrs Cook cocked her head, looking down at Clementine. He stopped in front of her, mirroring her head tilt. That always made her laugh.
Her wrinkled face creased. ‘Well, hopefully it’s not a sign of dementia,’ she said cheerfully, then switched off the lights. ‘Goodnight, Clementine, love.’