Neko
May was an ordinary girl. At least she was, up until she sprouted a pair of cat ears and began turning into a cat.
As a teen, I was prepared to deal with things like hormones and zits. I knew that as a girl, I was going to start my period around age thirteen, snap on a bra and start shaving my hairy bits. All these things happened of course, and for a long time I was no different from anyone else. All my problems started the day I woke up with a pair of fuzzy, triangular ears sprouting from the top of my head.
It all began on the weekend following my sweet sixteen, when my body hair started growing faster, thicker and softer starting at my arms. I had to shave constantly to avoid looking like a cave woman, but really it wasn't anything worth panicking over; just a normal, if not a little crazy, teenage hormone thing, right? The following Sunday morning I woke up with a headache. Rolling over in bed, I reached up to massage my scalp when my fingers brushed over something strange. Confused, I began to probe around with my fingertips, finding twin lumps growing adjacent from one another on top of my head, soft and fuzzy to the touch. Not sure what to think, I dismissed them as pimples, put on a cap and went about my day. The headache, however, was unrelenting, and my scalp became increasingly itchy.
Later that night I yanked my hat off, scratching my head vigorously when my nails raked over the "pimples" by accident. To my horror, I found that they had quadrupled in size and grown into abnormally large triangular points. Terrified, I ran to the only bathroom in the house so that I could look in the mirror, but found the door locked. Frustrated, I went in search of my mom, who was busy poring over a microbiology textbook in the kitchen. I dropped to the floor in front of her, sliding a little on the slick linoleum and bumping into her knees. She let out a startled little squeak in response, turning to scold me as I leaned my head into her lap, parting my hair with my fingers so that she could inspect my scalp. As it turns out, that wasn't really necessary.
"Mom, what's wrong with my head? What do you see?" I gasped, jerking my chin up to look at her. Her expression was incredulous as her mouth hung wide open, pumping up and down wordlessly as she angled my head down again and began touching the strange, rather sensitive new things growing atop my cranium.
"They're... ears." Cat ears, to be specific.
The next day, the new ears on top of my head were fully developed, two large brown triangles peeping out from my thick hair. I spent hours in front of the bathroom mirror crying as I tugged at them, hoping I could pull them off like a headband on Halloween. Instead, I had a pair of fully functional feline ears, as much a part of my body as my toes and fingers. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning of what I now refer to as my "second puberty."
My name is May Reynolds. At the time all of this took place I lived with my mother Clara, my brother Jason, half-sister Lilly and a Calico cat named Chi. We had recently moved across the country to be closer to our grandma, Mimi, a lonely widow with no one to keep her company but an old Russian Blue cat she'd named after our grandpa, Reginald. Our father and Lilly's dad were no longer in the picture, and the town where we came to live was rather small and a bit judgmental, so my predicament couldn't really have happened at a worse time in my life.
On Monday, when I was in the middle of a nice hot shower when I noticed an odd, rather boney protrusion just above my butt crack. I rubbed my fingers over it curiously, poking, prodding and pulling at it. I let out a shriek when it twitched of its own accord. I all but flew out of the shower, naked, soapy and wet, giving everyone a great view of my pasty white butt as I ran through the house full speed. I flung myself into my mom's arms and howled woefully, alarming her as she held me and stroked my wet hair, carefully avoiding the new ears that were pressed flat against the top of my head to express my anguish.
"I'm growing a tail!" I bawled, big fat tears rolling down both of my cheeks. It grew by the hour until it was about three feet long, soft brown fur growing at the base and down to the boney tip of it. When the initial hysteria wore off, I spent several hours in my bra and underwear standing in front of the mirror again, studying the new ears and tail as it swished around behind me, when I happened to notice something different about my eyes. Leaning over the sink, I studied my irises closely, yellow bleeding into the brown of my irises from the outer ring, moving in toward my pupils, which seemed to be much large than normal. On a whim, I opened my mouth and pulled my upper lip back, revealing long, skinny and very sharp upper and lower canines.
The next day mom kept me home and made an appointment with a doctor after a heated argument about my refusal to be taken to Urgent Care or the ER. I spent most of my time sitting on the sofa while I watched TV, Chi fast asleep in my lap as I cut holes in the back of all my underwear. The cat had refused to leave me alone, following me wherever I went and yowling if I locked her out of the room. I really didn't think much of it at first, figuring that she sensed my sadness and wanted to comfort me, but then I began to notice cats I'd never met or even seen before surrounding our house. They lounged around on windowsills and on the front porch, pawing at the glass whenever I passed. I was surprised to realize that some of them were strays, a few of the older ones missing an eye or a few teeth, their tails crooked and their fur matted. Nonetheless, they rushed to greet me with love and purrs when I came outside to shoo them off. Once when my sister tried to pet one, the cat went into a hissing fit and scratched her hand, only to throw himself against my leg for affection when she'd left.
"What's up kitty cat?" Jason asked one afternoon, flicking one of my new, incredibly sensitive ears. Lilly pranced in through the door after him when a handful of cats dashed in around her feet and ran to greet me.
"Don't make fun of her!" Lilly piped up, rushing to my side and reaching out to gently stroke my sore ear. "I like her better this way." She stretched her hand out to pet a stray that was sitting behind me, gagging on my hair as it tried to groom me. It hissed at her in response, swatting at her hand with sharp, dirty claws. Jason just laughed and went to his room.
"He's such a jerk, but don't worry, I'll tell mom when she gets home." Lilly tried to reassure me, hugging my head and stroking my hair. She _adored _my new feline features.
It took me well over an hour to clear the house of fuzzy miscreants, including Chi; every time I put one outside, three more darted in. Exhausted from all the running around, I went to bed early but was kept awake by cats outside my window, all yowling to be let in until the neighbor's dog chased them away. But even when all was quiet, I found it hard to sleep, and not just because Lilly insisted that she share a bed with me, or because Chi had rooted herself to my chest for the night, but because I knew I had to go out into public the next day. The thought made me so sick with nerves I puked later that night.
The next morning mom woke me up early to begin operation "put the cat in the bag." We covered my ears with my favorite skull cap and tucked the tail into my pants, tying it to my leg with shoelaces to keep its twitching and flicking to a minimum, and then covered my eyes with a pair of her obnoxiously oversized sunglasses. Lilly was extremely disappointed when mom made her go to school again, and even more so when she couldn't take me with her to show off to her friends. Mom had forbid both her and Jason from having friends over since the beginning of my transformation. As if my little sister hadn't been clingy enough before I grew a tail, she all but physically attached herself to me then.
After Lilly was dropped off at the local elementary we drove to the doctor's office, and for the first time since turning ten years old, I held my mother's hand in public. As we sat there in the waiting room, I could feeling myself sweating as I ran my tongue over my teeth again and again, feeling how abnormally long and pointy they were. Looking down at my hands, I scratched at the soft brown fuzz growing on the back of my knuckles, overhearing the receptionist whispering to her coworker about how hairy I was. My face stained red with embarrassment and the tip of my tail began twitching vigorously in the leg of my pants, attracting the attention of a man sitting across the room. I pretended not to notice him staring, catching the sound of door hinges squeaking to my left.
"May Reynolds?" A nurse called, glancing down at her clipboard.
I'd never liked the doctor's office, but after that day I began to hate it with a fiery passion. My new pediatrician, Dr. Lowry, took exactly fifty-nine minutes before he visited the room where my mom and I were waiting. He was sipping his coffee from a powder blue coffee mug, his bald head shining like a polished shoe in the harsh overhead light.
"Top of the morning to ya!" He said, a wide smile stretching across his face, revealing stained, crooked teeth. I didn't answer him, pulling off my skull cap and letting my ears spring to attention. He blinked once, followed by a loud guffaw.
"Cute." He said, waggling one finger at me as he glanced down at his clipboard. My ears snapped back, and I narrowed my eyes. "Now what seems to be the problem?"
After several minutes of convincing and letting him touch my tail and ears, he began to believe us, which was followed by a rather unprofessional string of curses and exclamations that didn't make me feel so good. He called just about every nurse, doctor and staff member in the building to come and look before he managed to calm down and start examining me, still muttering an occasional "damn" or "holy shit". As it turned out, the surgery to remove just one ear was more than my mother could afford even if it had been a good year financially. Dr. Lowry recommended we set up some sort of program to receive donations, but I shot that idea down almost as soon as he suggested it. I refused to be pitied, or worse, be seen as a freak of nature. The last thing I wanted was the media to get involved, broadcasting breaking news about the girl with cat ears and a tail.
"And why would you want to remove them, anyway? You could make a fortune charging people to come and see you!" The doctor had said, as if he didn't notice my flushed face or teary eyes. My mom gave him a rather colorful response, and after my abnormalities were successfully hidden, we were gone, never to return again.
I managed to keep my head held high for most of the day, but later that night I broke down and sobbed until I thought my eyes would shrivel in their sockets. My nose wet with snot, I stuffed my head into my pillow and ignored the feeling of claws digging into my back as several paws began to knead. Things didn't get much better when Jason came home from his buddy, Noel's.
If I hadn't been so busy feeling sorry for myself, I would've heard him sneaking into my room, but instead I was completely oblivious until something hit me in the back of the head. About to go into a rage, I paused when the most amazing smell I'd ever had the pleasure of smelling filled my nostrils. A tiny cloth bag full of catnip dangled on a string in front of my face, attracting my attention. Jason howled with laughter as I swatted and grabbed at the cat toy for a couple of seconds, pushing the other cats off the bed as I squashed it against my face and rubbed it against my cheek. I didn't realize I'd been pranked until Lilly came in and punched him square in the balls. I blinked for a few seconds, the bag of catnip falling to the floor for the cats to attack.
"You asshole!" I roared as he lay on the floor, doubled over. More tears rushed to my eyes and I shoved them both out of my room, so angry I didn't even think to thank Lilly for rescuing me from my humiliation. One by one, I grabbed cats and tossed them out of my one-story window, flinging the toy out into the yard for them to attack. It at least kept them away from my window for a while.
Later that night as I lay in bed (alone for once), I thought about what the doctor had said. "Expensive" and "surgery" were the only two words I could think about. Around four in the morning I started digging around my bookshelf for something to read when a heavy hardback fell from the top shelf, nearly catching me on the head. I flung myself halfway across the room at the sound of the crash when it hit the floor, tail frizzed out like a chimney sweep brush. Once I managed to calm down, I picked it up, inspecting the old, worn out cover. It was an old collection of fairytales, one that my mom used to read to me when I was little, and it had happened to fall open to the first page of The Frog Prince. The story had pleasant childhood memories attached to it, so I sat down on the floor and began reading it, when out of nowhere a ridiculously childish thought popped into my head.
I swear I almost choked on my own tongue when it struck me, the book falling out of my hands and hitting the floor with a thump. A curse, of course! It made perfect sense. This wasn't some rare and strange medical condition, of course not, it was a magical disease! When mom got home later that night, I asked if she had time the next day to drive me into town. I knew the perfect place to go: Madame Alexandra, the psychic next to the Occult Shop in the downtown area.
"No." Mom said, her voice perfectly flat. She didn't even look up from her textbook.
"Why not?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise. She looked up at me, one slender blonde eyebrow arched high on her forehead.
"Honey, there has to be a logical explanation out there somewhere. This thing you're going through isn't a curse, and I'll tell you why: this is real life we're living in, not a fairytale." It was the first time in my life my mother had ever spoken to me so bluntly before, and I couldn't help but gape at her.
"Logical explanation? Since when is looking like this," I gestured to my body, "logical in any way, shape or form?"
"Even if this thing is a curse, and I'm not saying it is, more than half of those so-called psychics and fortune tellers are frauds! They can't tell you any more about this than a doctor could! Hell, they'll just tell you what you want to hear. Kiss a prince before the stroke of midnight, drink this magic potion or some other load of crap!" She said. Her face was flushed scarlet, her hands waving around dramatically as I met her eyes, feeling the stress radiating from her in almost tangible waves. She was close to tears, and for the first time I realized that I wasn't the only one this whole thing was affecting.
"Okay." I said quietly, lowering my head and going back to my room. Later that night she sneaked in through my cracked door, thinking I was asleep as she sat down on the edge of my bed.
"I'm sorry, baby girl." She sighed. "I wish I knew how to help you," She reached out and stroked my hair back, her fingers cold and soothing. She stayed there for a little while, just running her fingers through my hair, which felt more like fur by then, before finally getting up and leaving me alone with Chi. Silently, I forgave her for losing her temper with me.
The next morning after she left for class, I made myself get up, digging five bucks in change out of the cursing jar before I got dressed, carefully concealing my ears, tail and eyes. Before I left I had to trim my fingernails, which had become claw-like, and pluck long, thick, white cat whiskers from my upper lip. Bundled up like an Eskimo, I walked outside into the April heat, sweat forming under my skull cap. Our neighbors stared as I walked down the street, watching as a pack of cats gathered around me, doubling and then tripling in size the further I went. As I made my way downtown, I accumulated more than thirty felines, even more rushing from dumpsters and across busy streets to join in, causing cars to slam on their brakes as to avoid squishing them.
After more than an hour of walking in the sweltering heat, I found myself standing in front of a vaguely familiar door, studying the bizarre cosmic logo on its tinted glass. Taking a deep breath, I went in, barely managing to keep my overzealous companions out. Tentatively, I took a step or two deeper inside, looking around the dark shop as I tried to convince myself I hadn't made a mistake. The little lobby was lit by a few flickering electronic candles and smelled strongly of incense, offending my sensitive nose. A heartbeat later, a middle-aged woman with a boney chin and sharp hazel eyes appeared out from behind a glittery purple curtain, eyeing me up and down.
"What do you want?" she asked sharply, her voice high pitched and nasally. The whole thing was so corny, like my life was turning into a crappy, modern-day fairytale. I pulled off my skull cap and shades.
"What on Earth...?" She gasped, her eyes bulging, jaw practically hitting the floor. My ears flattened, upper lip curling a little as I fought to suppress a growl. "They're real!" She exclaimed, hands darting out to touch them. I scowled, slapping her hands away.
"Come, come, right this way," she said, reaching for my hands and guiding me to the back. A load of mumbo jumbo and one electric crystal-ball malfunction later, she finally got down to the nitty-gritty stuff.
"You're cursed," she said as she studied the palm of my hand, tracing the creases and ripples of my skin carefully. I arched one eyebrow at her, fingers twitching slightly. "And you already knew that." She surmised.
"Do you have any unusual birthmarks or scars anywhere on your body?" she asked, and I had to think about it for a minute. I really didn't, aside from an upraised mole on left elbow. She said it would do and asked me to roll up my sleeve. She examined it carefully, poking and prodding it, pinching it, even going as far as to smell it.
"Well, there's good news and there's bad news," she said after a long pause. I waved my hand for her to continue.
"The good news is, you will live a long life," she said, and for a second I almost smiled.
"And the bad news?" I asked slowly.
"This curse has been passed down to you by one of your family members, and there's a strong chance that it is irremovable." My face fell, but she held up one finger. "But that is not certain. There is only one way to find out the true details of this curse, and to do that you must find the caster."
"But how could I possibly know? I just woke up like this one day!" I cried, yanking my arm away from her. "Can't you tell me anything more? Who passed it down to me, why my family is cursed? Oh God, what about my mom? My brother and sister? Will this happen to them, too?"
"How old are they?"
"My mom's forty-two, my brother is nineteen and my sister is nine," I said, and she shook her head.
"Your mother and older brother are safe. If it hasn't affected them by now, the chance that it will are very slim. Your sister may not be so lucky, but in my experience, curses like these are only passed on to one child," she said, standing up slowly.
"Wait, hold on, can you tell me who did this to us? Or why?" My heart was thudding wildly in my chest. She paused for a moment, thinking carefully before heaving a heavy sigh and meeting my eyes again.
"Calm down, don't go getting yourself in a tizzy! Look, I know someone who maybe could've put this curse on you... Her name is Barbara Fetters. She's an elderly woman, and she owns well over thirty cats, so quite frankly this seems like something she would do." She said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. The name sounded incredibly familiar, and then it dawned on me. She was the woman who lived two houses down from my grandma. My Mimi had always hated Barbara, because the crazy old bag was always trying to steal her cat, Reginald, out from under her nose. The house was only a fifteen-minute walk or so from the shop.
"Now if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you left. I have a three o'clock appointment and he won't appreciate being kept waiting." Madame Alexandra sniffed, and I heard a loud jingle of bells as the shop door was opened a split-second later. She stared at me expectantly for a few moments, and I realized she wanted payment, so I took out the bunch of coins from my pockets and dumped them on the table. She sneered at it openly, but I didn't give her time to say anything, donning my disguise and pushing past a rather hefty man on my way out, plunging back into the sea of cats waiting for me outside.
Despite the sweat that dripped down my face and collected under my arms, I forced myself to jog most of the way, panting hard when I finally arrived. I was scared but determined, and the cats around me could feel it, putting their fur on end. A few of them were actually jumpy, skittering away at the tiniest sound, and a pair of tomcats had actually started duking it out on the sidewalk along the way. Before long, I found myself standing in front a rather old-looking brown house trimmed with white borders, cats sitting in every window, watching me curiously from inside. I swallowed hard, like Scooby Doo about to go into a haunted house as I squared my shoulders and stood in the driveway. I was gonna get to the bottom of this, one way or another.
I walked up to the porch, my knees refusing to bend even as I climbed the steps and extended my hand to rap my knuckles against the door. Several loud meows answered me, and there was a long pause before the door opened. I'd only seen Ms. Fetters once before, and I was pretty little at the time. I looked her over fearfully as she stood there in front of me, thick eyeglasses perched on her long, skinny nose, large blue eyes peering at me suspiciously. Her silvery hair still had traces on blonde left in it, and it was pulled back in a messy bun, stray hairs poking out all over the place and framing her wrinkled face. At first she looked angry because of my disturbance, opening her mouth to tell me off when she stopped, lips twitching. She blinked a few times, squinted her eyes, and then smiled at me, as if I were an old friend.
"Come in, come in!" She said eagerly, reaching out and grabbing my wrist, yanking me inside. The cats behind me poured in and she let them, welcoming them all individually as the cats already inside swarmed around me in a purring mass. The house smelled terrible, like fish, cat pee and kitty litter, every visible surface coated in a layer of fur and scratched to pieces. When the last cat had scampered inside she closed the door, looking up at me and grabbing at my hat and sunglasses, snatching them away before I could protest.
"Oh my, so beautiful!" She gasped, reaching out to caress my ears. Her touch made me feel warm and sleepy as she rubbed them between her fingers, cooing at me like she would a kitten until I began to purr. I blushed when I realized what she was doing, blinking indignantly as I slapped her hands away, taking a step back.
"Did you do this to me?" I asked, yanking my tail from the back of my pants, then motioning to my face and body. She wasn't even fazed as she moved back into my personal space again, staring at my ears and studying my face with her large, appreciative eyes.
"Yes, of course I did. You must be Reginald's daughter... No, no, granddaughter. Hm, must've skipped a generation, passed right on down to you! How strange, strange indeed...." she rambled, and I stared at her incredulously, trying to process her words. Skipped a generation?
"You did this to my grandpa?" I choked as she reached out to touch me again. I jerked away from her, nearly stepping on one of the cats under my feet in the process. She chuckled, reaching down to pick up a cross-eyed Siamese who was pawing at her leg instead.
"He murdered my sweet little Oscar, and so I punished him as I saw fit! He was meant to replace my beloved friend." She cornered me against a bookshelf, cupping one of my ears in her free hand. "But that old cow Mimi won't let me have him. Oh, just look at you, what a beautiful girl you'll be when the transformation is complete. A longhaired brown tabby! Look at that Elizabeth, you'll have a new sister soon!" She crooned, cutting her eyes to a fat tabby cat sitting on the back of a nearby chair, whose green eyes rolled lazily to look over at me, blinking slowly. Every hair on my body stood on end as I batted at her hand again, twisting my head away.
"Stop touching me, damn it! Are you saying I'm going to turn into a cat?" The thought was horrifying.
"Oh most definitely. It shouldn't be too much longer before the transformation is complete." I hunkered back against the bookshelf, hissing when she tried to pet me again.
"How do I stop it?" I yelled. All around us the cats began to grow restless.
"Stop it? Why would I want to stop it?" She asked, setting the cat down gently on the floor.
"Because I'm a human being!" I cried desperately, not even sure how to convey to a crazy woman just how wrong the whole situation was. "You did this to me, so you must know how to stop it! I don't want to be a cat, I didn't do anything! I love cats!"
"Oh no, dear, I don't know." She giggled, ignoring my distress. "Look sweetheart, this isn't some bedtime story. Some curses just can't be lifted." My stomach twisted violently, the blood draining from my face.
"But... there has to be something you can do...." I wheezed, my knees buckling underneath me. Her smile never wavered once as she shrugged her shoulders, turning from me and walking away. Helpless, I followed her.
"Well maybe, but not that I know of! Quite frankly, I wouldn't help you anyway. I do love the idea of having another cat as beautiful as my sweet Elizabeth, and I know that she's been longing for a sister for quite some time. But feel free to search, I won't stop you, because you'll come back to me when the spell has run its course, I'm sure." I watched as she shuffled over to her refrigerator, taking out a carton of cream and laying out several saucers on the floor, filling each one. Cats of all colors swarmed into the kitchen, and I found myself licking my own lips as I watched, tempted to drink along with them.
"You're nuts." I muttered, taking a step back. "I'll turn you in."
"To the police? You're grandmother tried that and it didn't work out so well for her! What're you going to say, dear? The mean old lady put a curse on you?" She cackled. "They'd dismiss you as a crazy and throw you in a loony bin."
"But the ears--" I muttered, and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head impatiently.
"And how could they possibly trace that back to me? Who in their right mind would take a little old woman to court for a curse, hm?" I had no answer. "Cat got your tongue?" She asked as she stooped over to stroke a black cat standing near her feet. Unable to find my voice, I stumbled backwards, heading for the door.
"See you soon, dear! Oh, and don't try to remove the ears or tail; a waste of time and money, considering they'll just grow back! " She called from the kitchen, and I slammed the door, narrowly missing one of my companions' tail. Fighting back tears, I ran the short distance to my grandma's, pounding the door until my Mimi appeared. She took one look at me, the ears and yellow eyes, the whiskers growing back on my lip and the tears streaming down my face, before she grabbed me and hauled me inside. For the next half hour, she cradled me to her chest like an oversized baby, crying right along with me as Reginald perched himself on my lap.
"How could you?" I moaned, staring down into the steely grey-cat's golden eyes. He remained silent, reaching up with one soft paw and touching my wet cheek gently. Blinking once, he lowered his head and bumped it affectionately against my chin.
"It wasn't his fault, sweetheart." My grandma murmured, wiping my cheeks dry with a trembling thumb.
"But she said--" I began.
"I know what she said, and it's a lie, every word of it. It was an accident. That cat was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and your grandfather hit him in that old Cadillac of his. We did everything we could: he apologized to her, offered to buy her another cat, but she was bent on revenge. We thought she'd go to the authorities...." She shook her head, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. "I remember when this all started, having to hide it all from your mom and aunt growing up."
"Why didn't you tell them? All this time we thought grandpa was dead...." I looked down at the old grey cat again.
"Tell our daughters that their father had turned into a cat? They were little girls at the time, May. We didn't think this would happen to anyone else." She sighed.
I remembered all the times Jason and I came to visit when we were little kids. Reginald had greeted us at the door every time, insisting we pet him and following us out into the yard to watch over us as we played. There had been a time when I got sick with the flu while on vacation and he had stayed by my side the entire time, comforting me through my fever and keeping my feet warm when I slept. I reached out and hugged him tight to my chest then, taking a deep breath and trying to collect my thoughts.
"What did he do after he found out?" I asked quietly, looking up from Reginald to meet my grandma's eyes. She smiled at me, her features softening.
"He lived his life to the fullest. He enjoyed the time he had left with us as a husband and father, and did all the things he'd ever dreamed of in the short amount of time he had left as a man. I think, May, that you should do the same in your own special way. It's when awful things like this happen that we get an awakening. It helps us to gain perspective, and a new outlook on life altogether."