The Society II

Part 4

The rescue mission, as I had decided to call it, was faster than expected.

Well, I had expected it to be quick, but I thought it would take more time than it did - all they did was check my ID, and then they practically forced me out the door with Pellet in a carry cage.

They had him waiting at the front desk, where he was hissing at the receptionist with such fury that I wondered what she had done to him. The answer? Nothing. He was making so much noise that I had to wonder if there was another animal in there with him. 

As soon as I leave the shelter building, I rest the cage on the bench outside, opening the door an inch.

I can see his yellow eyes looking at me, and for a second, I think he might attack me. I wouldn't blame him if he did - imagine you were a cat, being babied one day and then abandoned with a man you don't like the next. I'd probably hiss at everyone, too. 

He doesn't jump out at me, instead stepping out. The sight of his little paws almost makes me emotional. I like this cat more than I like most people I know, despite that fact that he sometimes acts like he wouldn't want to be caught dead around me - just like my teenage nieces and nephews. 

His paws disappear back into the depths of the blue carrier after he has a stretch, and I slowly close the door again. Caleb is sitting in the car still - he offered to get out and collect Pellet with me, but with the cat's hatred of men, I thought it might be better if I went by myself. 

I pick up the cage, and the sheer weight of it reminds me that maybe I should listen to the vet a little closer and put him on a proper diet. It puts strain on my muscles to lug him along, and I can't help the scowl I give to the blue plastic. 

I finally make it to the car, while wondering why Caleb had decided to park as far away as possible after dropping me at the door.

"That was fast," he comments, getting out to open the rear door. I plonk the cage onto the seat, ignoring the screech of feline outrage while I put the seatbelt around it. 

"Yeah. I don't think they wanted to keep him for much longer than they had to," I grimace. He's great when it's just me, and we're at home - once either of those elements are taken away, he turns into a fuzzy grey bag of fury. Getting him used to wherever I'll be living in the capital will be interesting, to say the least, and I don't expect to get a deposit back from any housing.

"So, how old is Pellet?" Caleb asks conversationally. 

"He's four or five, I think. I adopted him, but he was pretty young when I got him," I murmur, turning around in my seat to check on my now-quiet cat. 

"So, he's your only pet?" He queries, and I nod, "he's my baby."

It only takes him a minute or two to find my parent's house. As we pull into the driveway through the open gates, Caleb's phone rings, and 'Sophie' shows up on the screen.

"I'll be in after you in a few moments. This is about work, I imagine," he sighs, answering the call.

I take the hint and get out of the car, hesitating before I turn to the door. Packing - well, collecting - my stuff will be complicated as it is without adding a cat to it. Pellet will be fine in the car with Caleb.

Before I can walk up the stone steps, the front door flies open. My mother appears, her hat askew as she descends down towards me. Her blazer is wrinkled and unbuttoned, and she doesn't have any lipstick on. Her appearance is so out of character that I halt where I am, coming to a stop at the bottom of the steps.

"Marceline!" She snarls. Her face is an ugly red colour, and it matches her nails. She secures her hand around my bicep, digging her acrylics into my skin as she tries to drag me into the house. Her breath is coming out in angry pants and I'm slightly worried she's going to begin hyperventilating.