Short Story: Working From Home With Tippy

 Author's note: I haven't touched any creative writing project in years but I feel like the writing bug is back and has its mandibles sunk thoroughly into my brain. Here's the first of a few short stories. If there's enough interest and enjoyment I may release a short story collection on my itch site with accompanying illustrations.

 

 

Working from Home with Tippy

by Dobes Crusher

Life was quiet and cozy for Tippy the cat and her person, the human woman named Sarah. They lived together in a small house in the suburbs, a sleepy place with little noise and a fenced in yard that Tippy had access to through her cat door. The fence was a tall wooden one which Tippy knew she could scale easily, but on one side there were human children who Tippy didn’t really feel like meeting, and on the other was a dog that smelled like trouble. There wasn’t really any need to wander far when there were bushes to crawl under, bugs to catch, and warm patches of grass where she could sprawl in the afternoon sun. During the day she would alternate between yard and the house, where often she would curl up on Sarah’s lap as she sat at her desk, tapping away at the glowy thing that seemed to take up most of her time.

Glowy things in general concerned humans a lot. In addition to the desk thing, there was the little rectangle that Sarah would fidget with or talk into, the big rectangle she would watch shapes move on at night, and a medium sized rectangle that Sarah would quietly hold for an hour or so before bed. Tippy wasn’t sure what all the fuss was, though she also liked sitting on Sarah’s lap and watching the noisy moving screen.

Something was different one morning. Tippy noticed that Sarah wasn’t her usual self. She was distracted, distant, not even stooping to pick Tippy up for a kiss and cuddle. The glowy rectangle had all her attention as she absent-mindedly poured a scoop of kibble into Tippy’s bowl, and not even her usual chirps and rubs against Sarah’s legs could pry her away from the damn rectangle. Tippy huffed, ate a couple bites of kibble, and went to her favorite window in the living room to catch a warm morning sunbeam.

Sarah paced the kitchen, biting her nails and staring absently at the bubbling coffee maker. Her phone buzzed and she picked up on the second vrrrp.

“Hey, yeah, I’m okay. No, it’s been quiet here. I saw on the news. I don’t really know what’s happening either. They’re saying it’s some sort of virus or something. Yeah. Like something out of a movie. It feels completely stupid for it to be real”

Tippy flicked her ears. She didn’t know what most of those words meant, but the tone of voice was scared, maybe even a little angry. It reminded Tippy of when the man still lived with them, with his booming voice, heavy footsteps, and the way that Sarah’s voice would shrink and become so small when he was around. Tippy always hid under the couch when the man’s voice would rise and dwarf Sarah’s. But that had been a long time ago, a distant memory. And the tinny voice that was near but far away was a woman’s voice. Not the man’s.

“I think it’s safer out here, I think I should stay put and wait things out until we know more. I’m going to the grocery store today to load up on supplies. I don’t think anyone here is really taking it seriously yet, so I think I can beat the rush” Sarah continued.

“I will. I’ll be careful. There haven’t been any cases out here yet. Just stay in touch okay? I’ll let you know if anything changes. Love you too, Mom, stay safe. Buh-bye.”

There was the usual sound of kitchen activity. Coffee poured, cereal bowl filled, sounds of eating and drinking, the clatter of dishes placed in the sink. It sounded normal enough and Tippy stretched herself out and rolled unto her back so the sunlight could warm her belly. Soon she was asleep and dreaming so deeply that she didn’t even wake when Sarah left for the grocery store.

There were so many bags. Tippy awoke to the rustle and bustle of tons of plastic grocery bags, bulging with cans, bottles, boxes and crinkly packages. Sarah brought them in hurriedly, not even bothering to walk them all into the kitchen first, instead leaving them right in the living room as she bolted and locked the door behind her. Tippy yawned, stretched, and approached Sarah with her customary “mrrrp”. The bags had lots of interesting smells and Tippy always had to inspect anything new that came inside.

“Hey Tippytoes, my little Tipster” Sarah cooed, ruffling the cat’s head with her hand.

“Mrrap” said Tippy. Sarah had lots of different sounds that all seemed to mean Tippy.

After Tippy had completed her inspection of the groceries, she decided it was time to go outside and get some fresh air. Sarah would be at the desk going tap tap tap for a while, so it was a good time to explore and look for crickets to catch.

It was a gentle spring morning. Birds were chirping, flowers were blooming, and the tantalizing scurry of little creatures in the undergrowth caught the cat’s attention. She sniffed the air, creeping towards a bush, and caught a surprising smell. Or, a lack of a smell. Usually the scent of the neighbor dog would be strong and heady closer to the fence, since he liked to stand there and bark uselessly at her approach, but he was gone. The old scents of dog urine and feces were still detectable, but the dog himself was not. Odd. She followed alongside the fence, sniffing as she padded silently through the grass. The children were absent too, though that wasn’t uncommon in the morning. She couldn’t really predict them as well, though during the hottest days they’d often be outside yelling and laughing and generally making Tippy’s outdoor naps impossible.

She then noticed a cricket crawling around in a patch of dirt where the grass ended and the wildflowers began. Tippy hunkered down low, pupils widening with intense focus as she crept tiger-like towards the unsuspecting insect. Her tail twitched and hips wiggled as she readied to strike, her body tensed like a compressed metal spring. In an instant she launched forth, pounded the hapless critter into the dirt with one mighty paw. She lifted her paw to strike down again, the bug now wiggling and crumpled helplessly as she swatted it back and forth.

The sound of a car roaring down the street interrupted her instinctual game. She sat up, stock still, and listened as it screeched to a halt close by. Tippy abandoned the dying cricket and trotted back to the house, her gait measured and purposeful. She sat in the living room and waited with her eyes fixed towards the front door. A car door slam. Then the sound of footsteps coming up the porch steps. A loud rap on the door, quick and insistent, then a pause.

“Sarah?” a man’s voice asked.

He knocked again, louder and longer.

“Sarah? I know you’re home. I just want to talk.”

Tippy growled softly and low and slunk down as far as she could without lying down. She slipped away towards the couch and squeezed herself underneath. It was the man.

Sarah came to the door swiftly, opened it just a crack but didn’t undo the chain-lock.

“What do you want, Emmett?” she snapped.

“Look, I know things ended badly for us but, well, considering the news and all. I was worried, I just wanted to check on you, see if you needed anything.” his voice was soft now, almost pleading.

“I’m okay. Look, it’s nice that you wanted to check up but I thought we agreed we shouldn’t be around each other anymore. I have everything I need and people I can call if I need help.”

“I know, I know. But I didn’t want to leave things between us on such a bad note. You know. In case everything gets worse. Can I just come in for a couple minutes to talk?”

“No, I’m sorry. I just don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, we don’t know anything about this virus or how it spreads. The safest thing for right now would be for you to go home, stay put, and wait until the CDC gives us more information.” she said, holding her ground firmly.

“Yeah. Okay, I get it. I totally get it. I know I was a lot when we were together. But I’ve been in therapy and I’m making a lot of progress, dealing with all my childhood trauma and shit. I promise I’m not trying to pull anything funny, I just want you to know I’m here if you need me.”

“Okay, well, I’m glad therapy is working for you. I still don’t feel comfortable letting you inside right now. Like I said, the virus. We just don’t know enough about it yet. And besides, I really need to get back to work.”

“That’s okay. I get it.” he said. “Just reach out if you change your mind.”

“Bye Emmett,” Sarah said curtly as she shut the door and locked it again.

Sarah took a deep breath and sighed loudly. “Whew, okay. Good job Sarah. My therapist is going to be so proud of me for not giving in” she said aloud to herself.

Tippy peered out at her from under the couch.

“Oh, Tippytoes, it’s okay. The scary man is gone now. Pss pss pss, come on out you silly goose” she called, crouching down by the couch and beckoning to the scared kitty.

Soon Tippy was out from under the couch, covered in dustbunnies but purring and curling around Sarah’s legs.

“Ooh what a mess you are! Come here my little goblin. Were you scared?” She plucked the dustbunnies off the cat as she stroked her soft black coat.

“Don’t you fret Tippydoodles, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She lifted the cat up and walked to her office, humming a little tune to herself that was as soothing to her own nerves as it was to the cat’s. She sat down with Tippy in her office chair, opened up the text editor and started typing away.

“It’s so fucking stupid that I have to think about Javascript at a time like this” Sarah said to Tippy, who didn’t understand a word but chirped in response.

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The days went by as usual, uneventful, quiet, though Tippy could tell that Sarah wasn’t happy. She paced around the house a lot, spent too much time with the rectangles, and was often talking in a worried voice to lots of different near-but-far people that Tippy could hear and not see. Tippy usually expected other people to come see Sarah, which she liked because they talked to Tippy with happy voices and loved petting her, but the house was quiet and empty except for the two of them.

Sometimes at night Sarah made weird distressed sounds, sniffling and vocalizing. Tippy knew these sounds well. Whenever that happened her face would get salty and wet. Tippy tried her best to be comforting and would curl up against Sarah until her sniffles stopped.

“Oh Tippy,” Sarah said between sobs “I’m so glad I have you here with me.”

The two would lay together in bed, Tippy snug in Sarah’s arms until both were asleep.

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One day, Sarah was busy talking to moving shapes and near-but-far voices on the glowy tap tap thing. Tippy usually liked to come walk on the desk and look, which elicited happy noises from those voices, but today Sarah wasn’t in the mood.

“Not now Tippy. Sorry guys.” She said, shooing the cat off her desk. Tippy huffed and went to sulk in her cat bed next to Sarah’s desk.

“It’s okay, we like seeing Tippy. How are you holding up out there?” asked a male voice.

“Ah, we’re okay. The house is pretty safe and we’re kind of out in the middle of nowhere. I’m glad I was already working remote. Though it feels really weird to still be making websites right now.”

“I hear that. I’m going to be on a client meeting later with McDonald’s for some kind of mobile game thing they’re doing. Can you believe that?” the male voice replied.

“No kidding. Are they even still open?” Sarah asked.

“Oh yeah, they’re drive-thru only right now. For a while they were allowing pick-up and delivery but it seemed too risky. Can you imagine working at McDonald’s? There’s a deadly virus and McDonald’s is still making people come in to make McNuggets.” a female voice said.

“That’s crazy” said Sarah, pausing to take a sip of her tea. “How are things going with you guys? We had a couple cases out here but so far it’s not really hitting our area.”

“It’s getting a little scary out here. I don’t know anyone it’s happened to but the cases are rising and people are still like… going to restaurants and shit. I know our state is handling things a bit differently than California though. They were really the first to start shutting things down. I’m glad I’m not in a major urban part of Texas at least.” the female voice said.

“Yeah things are not looking good for Los Angeles at all.” The male voice said. “I actually took the wife and the kids out to Castaic to stay with my parents for a while. We all feel a bit safer out there together.”

“My sister and her wife had a really close call” another male voice said. “After that, they decided to quit their jobs and go out to their vacation cabin in Big Bear- not like anyone is going to be renting from AirBnB anytime soon. They packed up all their stuff, put a bunch of things into storage, and they’re staying out there until things blow over.”

“If things blow over,” Sarah said. “I’m so worried about my parents, they’re taking everything seriously but I can’t go to them if anything happens. No flights right now, and the highways are absolute chaos right now.”

“Oh god, I heard about that” the female voice said. “There’s people who’ve been stuck in traffic for a full day.”

Tippy wasn’t going to have a good nap with all these worried human voices nattering on beside her, so she decided it was time for a stroll in the backyard instead. She stretched, buns in the air and front legs splayed out to their very limit, then sauntered off.

The mid afternoon weather was warm and pleasant, but cloudy skies kept all the best sunbeams hidden. Tippy rolled in the soft grass, sneezing at a blade of grass that tickled her little black nose. The grass had grown long and wild and dotted with tangles of weeds. There was no neighborhood noise. No sounds of children playing outside. No lawnmowers, no hedge trimmers, and no sounds of neighbors walking their dogs. It was strange but not unwelcome.

Something in the grass nearby rustled and Tippy directed her attention towards it. There’d been some rain in the past few days and that meant frogs might be around, maybe even salamanders. She couched down and continued to listen, sniffing the air with her sensitive nose. Everything got real quiet. Like all the animals at once had collectively agreed to a vow of silence. No bird song, no chattering squirrels, no insect hum. And then she caught a scent on the air.

It was foul and strange, carried on the wind like the stench of a passing garbage truck, but far worse. Rot, the sickly sweet smell of a dead animal. Tippy remembered that smell when she’d killed a bird and left it to decay underneath a rose bush. But there was something else too, some other scent that Tippy didn’t recognize. It smelled like nothing she’d ever experienced before and it made her fur stand on end. She sat motionless in the tall grass until the breeze no longer held that terrifying odor. When fear no longer held her captive, Tippy crept back into the house.

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Tippy and Sarah were snuggling in bed. Sarah was reading a book, stroking Tippy with her free hand while Tippy kneaded the soft comforter with her paws.

“Little white toe-tips” Sarah cooed to Tippy. “Little pink beans.”

“Mrrrrap” said Tippy.

“What would I do without you? It’d be so lonely here without my little stinker” Sarah said.

The cozy moment was interrupted by a distant thumping sound. At first it seemed far away, but then it grew louder and more insistent. Both cat and person sat up, frozen in fear.

The door. The front door. Who the hell would be knocking at the door at this time of night?

“Sarah?” a male voice was barely audible, but Sarah and Tippy recognized it instantly. “Sarah please open up.”

“Jesus christ,” muttered Sarah, a mixture of relieved and scared in a different way. She made her way quietly to the living room, passing through the kitchen to grab a large knife on her way to the door. Tippy followed a couple steps behind, crouched low and slinking like a nervous panther.

“Sarah please…”

She opened the door a crack again and peered out into the darkness. She never turned on her porch light anymore, so she couldn’t see very well.

“Emmett? What the hell do you want, it’s midnight! You scared the shit out of me. I told you to stay home!” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

“Sarah, thank god. I’m so sorry. My home it’s. It’s not safe, someone broke in. Oh god Sarah please let me inside.” He slurred.

Tippy had crawled under the couch again and was watching the front door with massive black eyes. She was scared of the man under normal conditions, but the fear that gripped her now was stronger. Something smelled wrong.

“Jesus, okay, Emmett hold on. What happened?” she started unlatching the chain. Emmett said nothing.

“Emmett, what happened. Come inside already, it’s not safe out there.”

Emmett was silent and swayed a little as he stood. Suddenly and without warning, he fell forward and hit the ground with a heavy smack. Sarah shrieked and jumped back, imagining in a split second that he’d lunged at her, but then realized he was hurt. Emmett’s body held the door ajar, legs on the porch and torso sprawled on her hardwood floor. A dark oily looking substance pooled out from him as she stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to do. Emmett was silent and motionless.

After what felt like an hour (but must’ve been mere minutes) Emmett gasped for breath and let out a low guttural moan.

“Are you okay? Christ. Don’t try to move, you’re hurt” Sarah said.

Emmett pushed himself up off the ground and rose slowly. In the dim light, Sarah couldn’t see his face very well but he looked wrong. Lopsided. Like his face was slowly melting off his skull. As if it were made of wax. Sarah distantly thought about the time she’d left a chocolate Easter bunny out in the sun when she was 5.

He reached out to her with shaking arms and stepped forward. Her grip tightened on the knife.

Too late. Before she could react his hands were around her neck, squeezing with a power and fury that didn’t match his frail looking arms. She stabbed the knife deep into his chest where it struck bone and lodged with the most sickening sound Sarah had ever heard. He bellowed but only squeezed tighter, gurgling and dribbling black slime from his nose and mouth.

It was like a lightning bolt had charged through Tippy’s body. Fear had boiled over into pure fury as the cat shot out from under the couch and launched herself fully at Emmett, claws sinking deep into his bare leg as she bit deep and hard, harder than she would ever dare to bite a person in the entirety of her gentle domestic life. It knocked him off balance. Emmett howled- an unearthly phlegm-tinged rattle in his chest accompanied it- and released Sarah’s neck. She fell backwards and caught herself roughly. Emmett flailed wildly but was not able to dislodge the furious cat from his leg. Emmett’s mind was a dark fog but he remembered Tippy, his cunt ex’s stupid tuxedo cat. He’d rarely hit Sarah before, but at the worst points of his fury, he would catch Tippy unaware, give her a kick that sent her running for her life. Hitting Tippy was more satisfying than hitting Sarah. It made Sarah’s righteous resolve crumble down into nothing until she was like a tiny girl, pliable, helpless. “Please Emmett, I’m sorry for arguing, I was wrong” she’d say. The rational thought in Emmett was gone but the rage and the memories were still there. Yes, it was Tippy, Tippy biting into his leg now. He’d tear the animal limb from limb with his bare hands.

He swung at her with his oozing stinking hands, but she was too fast. Like a squirrel climbing a tree, Tippy clambered up the fabric of his shorts, hauled herself up on the fabric of his shirt, and wrapped herself around his face, yowling and snarling with a fury she’d never known. She slashed and bit and screamed, tearing at his eyes, noses, ears. He smelled like garbage, worse. Worse than the garbage truck, worse than the rotting bird, worse than her own litterbox when Sarah had let the turds pile up following an injury. “I fell down the stairs and broke my ankle” Sarah had said “I’m so clumsy.” Even though the fetid rot filled Tippy’s nose and mouth the little cat wouldn’t let go.

Sarah was stunned for a moment after she’d fallen, but seeing Tippy in danger of Emmett’s flailing hands snapped her back to reality. She righted herself, looked around wildly, then grabbed a stool from the kitchen table. She swung it at full force and it smashed into Emmet’s legs with a sickening crunch. He crumpled. Tippy sprang away from his head and landed neatly, perfect and proper on her little white feet and little pink beans.

Sarah raised the stool again and smashed it hard into Emmett’s head. The skull gave way with a wet dull crack, like a cantaloupe that was already rotting. Then Emmett was still.

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Tippy was mad that Sarah kept dabbing her with a wet washcloth. Black sludge and blood were caked on her fur. She sulked because she was too tired to put up a fuss.

“What you’ve got here is one brave little cat” said the paramedic, muffled by his heavy protective gear. “If it wasn’t for her, I think you’d be a goner. We’ll have to monitor you for a while but I think you’re in the clear.”

“It doesn’t spread to animals right?” Sarah asked, for the second time.

“No ma’am. At least not domestic pets. The CDC confirmed it’s been found in rhesus monkeys and can spread to other primates, but cats, dogs, and most other animals are perfectly safe. I’m just thankful you weren’t bit, it’s the saliva that spreads it. Thankfully not airborne or we’d all be in much bigger trouble.”

“Thank god, thank god for that” Sarah said.

Other paramedics were hauling Emmett’s broken body out in a black bag. A woman in full hazmat gear was cleaning up the blood and black pus that’d been splattered around the house.

“Jeez louise, sorry about your hardwood floors.” she quipped. “Thankfully the virus doesn’t spread through this gunk, but we can’t be too careful.”

“I’ll buy a nice rug” Sarah laughed, almost crying from the absurdity of it all. “I’m sure Tippy would love that.”

“brrrrowww” said Tippy.