I Am Not Your Master; I Am Your Partner: A (Neko) Dan and (Human) Phil Series

Dreaming With Open Eyes

There was a time in which the Cornwall Home for Neko Boys was over capacity. Baby Nekos were left on the covered stoop in baskets, mewling in the night, abandoned by their mothers.

Some of the infants would arrive completely naked, without so much as a proper nappy. They would wail in discomfort and discontent. Others would show up with a single pouch of mother's milk and perhaps a note. Very occasionally, a baby would include an envelope with a handwritten letter to be given to the child at a specified time.

Dan, however, arrived with a group. He came directly from the maternity ward whereas the others had been left with nuns in various abbeys around England. All of the Nekos had been collected and transported together.

Dan arrived, less than twelve hours old, with nothing but a hospital-issued blanket set and a tiny yellow cap. There was no vial of mother's milk or even a rubber nipple to soothe him. A single piece of paper lay underneath his squishy little body. It was wrinkled and difficult to read. In fact, the final marking was barely legible due to a spot of wetness (most likely from his leaking nappy). In addition to a scribbling of his birth weight and length, the paper read:
Baby Boy Howall.

The midwife who wrapped him and prepared him for transport had taken the time to rewrite the surname more clearly below, giving the poor boy a proper first and second name to go with it.

Though the last letters were badly botched by the liquid, and though her eyesight was not keen, the nurse supposed that the "a" looked more like an "e." It would be harmless to make such a minor correction, so she took her liberties.

Daniel James Howell was the only infant to arrive with a full name.

Birthdays were not celebrated, as most Nekos arrived without that basic information. Because Dan came directly from the hospital, his date was recorded. All others were estimated. Names were given by the headmistress if not already given by a nun or midwife.

Some of the other boys received a letter when they were old enough to move to the upper hall. Boys aged twelve would begin training, for what, the youngsters did not know.

Older Neko boys were rarely seen. They ate in a separate hall and kept different hours. Dan noticed that they were never out in the yard to play. He decided then that he didn't want to turn twelve and sincerely hoped that the headmistress would overlook him.

She didn't.

Dan was moved to the upper hall at age twelve, separated from the Neko boys with whom he enjoyed companionship. His quarters were much smaller, but a bit more private. The was even less color, less noise, and of course, less freedom.

There was no such thing as Neko adoption. The boys were raised to serve.

Dan was a thinking child. He was a reader and a thinker, and he despised authority. He had a plan. He never got a letter, but he had a plan.

* * *

Phil often daydreamed about what it would be like to have a child with Dan. For some reason, every thought centered around an infant. Part of Phil wanted to adopt an older Neko boy because he knew that people were sometimes hesitant to take an older child into their home. But he also thought about all of the things that they could spare a child by adopting an infant. Dan was completely torn and undecided; he could appreciate Phil's reasoning in both cases.

They would lay in bed and Phil would look down at his sleeping husband, imagining an energetic little Neko trying to climb up into the bed to wake his parents. He almost see a little one, ears poking over the edge of the mattress, tugging at his daddy's tail, asking for his breakfast cereal. These were the things that made him smile uncontrollably.