A Cat's Paradise 1/1
Title: A Cat’s Paradise
Author: shojohanzaisha
Warnings: Nothing at all.
Rating: PG
Genre: Mystery! Sort of.
Pairing: Patrick Stump & Mikey Way
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.
Summary: About a week after my job ended, the cat went missing. The cat’s name was Gerard Way. He belonged to my boyfriend, Mikey, and was named after his brother. Gerard Way was a large, orange tabby cat with big green eyes and a kink in his tail. We decided to name him after Mikey’s brother because Gerard the human always had a sort of stupid look on his face, just like the cat did, and for the most part, they were both pretty friendly. The only difference was that the cat didn’t talk at a million miles an hour and try to tell me why Boba Fett was the coolest character in Star Wars.
Notes: Heavily based on a scene from “The Wind-Up Bird Chronice” by Murakami Haruki. Best book ever. <3
“If you have time, go look for the cat, okay?”
If there was one thing I had plenty of, it was time. Having been laid off from my job as a professional gofer for a bank, I’d been unemployed for almost three weeks. All I ever did now was household chores; I cooked dinner, I did laundry, I paid bills, I cleaned the bathroom, I vacuumed the carpet, and so on. Four years of university studies down the drain. Not that a major in recording engineering was going to get me anywhere, anyway. The bank job had come from a connection that my uncle had, but since I was shit with numbers, all I could do was simple errands and stuff like that.
So when I got laid off (which, really, I actually got fired), I wasn’t really surprised. They wanted to hire somebody new, young, and pretty. I’m not new, I’m almost 30, and I’m definitely not anywhere near pretty.
About a week after my job ended, the cat went missing. The cat’s name was Gerard Way. He belonged to my boyfriend, Mikey, and was named after his brother. Gerard Way was a large, orange tabby cat with big green eyes and a kink in his tail. We decided to name him after Mikey’s brother because Gerard the human always had a sort of stupid look on his face, just like the cat did, and for the most part, they were both pretty friendly. The only difference was that the cat didn’t talk at a million miles an hour and try to tell me why Boba Fett was the coolest character in Star Wars.
Mikey and I had been living together for about three years. He had a job with a studio that designed calendars, though it wasn’t anything glamorous. They were the sort of calendars people just glance at in a bookstore but never really buy.
Anyway, so while Mikey was at work, he called me and asked me to go look for our cat, and that was exactly what I did. I put on a baseball cap to keep the sun out of my eyes and set out on my journey. It was the beginning of August, so it was unbearably hot outside, but I knew if I didn’t find the cat, Mikey’d be upset and complain about how I was just lazy and didn’t care about Gerard Way.
I started off down the street, trying to think if I were a cat, where would I have gone? What sort of places did cats hang out in during the summer? One would think that if a spoiled house cat went outside in this heat, it would march right back into the house and not move until fall came around. But whatever; I’m no cat-expert.
With no other option, I wandered around for a while. All the houses around me were starting to look the same. Brick walls, brown roofs, garages, lawn gnomes, sprinklers, the occasional dog chained up to a tree, barking its head off as I passed. So far, there was no sign of any kind of “cat-hang-out.” Really, if Gerard Way had been missing for so long now, he could be anywhere. Cats could move fast when they wanted, and if he’d been interested in finding a female cat to start a family with, if there weren’t any around here, he’d go somewhere where there was a sexy cat just waiting for him.
I must have been walking for an hour when I came across something sort of odd; a large, white cinderblock wall. There was no way around it; it separated this housing area from another one, though I had no idea why. The wall had always been there, and nobody really thought about getting rid of it. I stood on my tip-toes and peeked over the edge. Beyond the wall was a narrow alley way lined by wire fences and wooden fences people had put up around their backyards.
Unfortunately, I had a feeling that if I were a cat, this is exactly where I would go.
With no other choice, I managed to climb up the wall and get over to the other side. Luckily, I didn’t break anything on my way down. Once I got back on my feet, I squinted down the alley way and took a deep breath. Even though it was the height of summer, there weren’t any people outside; just sprinklers running, the occasional bird chirping or cawing, and dogs barking at one another. I began to feel like I was the only human being in the entire area.
I walked down the alleyway, turning my head left and right to examine people’s backyards. So far, there was no sign of any sort of orange cat. Finally, though, near the end of the alley, was what appeared to be an abandoned house; its backyard was overgrown with grass and weeds, and all of the plastic furniture was either faded or green and brown with mold. Grasshoppers jumped out of the long grass now and then, and bees flew around to some of the flowers that had sprung up near the back door of the house.
This was clearly a cat’s paradise.
For a few minutes, I just stood there, looking for any sort of sign of a cat. A few times the long grass rustled, but it was only because of a breeze. The cat was nowhere to be seen yet.
“What’re you doing?”
I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard that voice behind me. It was a young man’s voice, though it was oddly scratchy, like he’d smoked a pack a day since he was fifteen. Startled, I turned around and immediately spotted him; he was lounging on a plastic lawn chair in the backyard across from the abandoned house. On his nose was perched a pair of dark sunglasses, and he wore a pair of floral print shorts that could have been a bathing suit, and a red t-shirt. His hair was dyed black and cut at a goofy angle.
“…Hello? Did you hear me?” he asked, sitting up slightly.
I shifted awkwardly, one hand on the fence behind me. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m, er, looking for a cat, actually.”
He gave me an appraising look and made no move to get up from the chair. “A cat, huh? I don’t think I’ve seen a whole lotta cats coming through here lately. What’s it look like?” he asked. There was a pack of cigarettes and a blue, cheap lighter sitting in the grass next to him.
“Well, he’s a big orange tabby with a stupid look on his face and a kink in his tail,” I said, probably describing at least 30 million cats in the Chicago area alone. It was at that moment that I started thinking we should’ve put a really distinct collar on him.
“Ah, yeah, that cat,” the stranger mused, “I saw him. He kinda waddles, huh? You feed him too much. Anyway, I saw him come through here last week some time, but I haven’t seen him since.” He paused, lowering his sunglasses to look at me for a second. His eyes were dark brown. “Why don’t you come over here and we’ll watch for him for a while?”
I figured it couldn’t hurt, so I agreed. He let me in through the back entrance of the fence and set up another lawn chair for me. Normally I wouldn’t have done something like this, but I was in no hurry and maybe there would be some sort of sign of the cat if I waited long enough.
As soon as I sat down, the man thrust his pack of cigarettes and his lighter at me, one eyebrow raised in a questioning sort of look. “Uh, no thanks, I don’t smoke,” I said, shaking my head a little.
“Suit yourself,” he said, lighting one up for himself instead, “So you got a name?”
“Yeah, I’m Patrick. Uh, Patrick Stump.”
There was a moment of silence in which he probably didn’t believe that my last name was in fact Stump. It wasn’t really; it was actually Stumph, but that h is totally pointless so I always leave it off.
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. What’s your name?”
“It’s Pete Tree-trunk.”
I frowned at him.
“Okay, no really, it’s Pete Wentz. Nice to meet you, Stump.” He took a long drag on the cigarette and blew smoke up toward the sky.
“Yeah…Nice to meet you too.” It was so hot outside I felt like I was going to just start melting at any moment. I knew, at any rate, I’d have some sort of stupid looking sun burn by the end of the day.
“So what’re you doing looking for a cat? It’s Tuesday. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Pete asked curiously.
I sighed. “I got laid off. What’s your excuse?”
Pete shrugged carelessly. “I’m playing hookie. A couple months ago I was in a car accident with a friend of mine and got beat up pretty bad, so I’m milking it as long as I can,” he said, “In the summer, I never really feel like doing anything anyway. I guess I never actually grew up.”
Now that he said it, I noticed he did sort of remind me of a kid. “…How old are you?” I asked carefully.
He laughed and blew a smoke ring out of his mouth. “I’m twenty-eight. Can you believe it?”
Older than me!! What? I stared at him, startled. “No way. You’re not that old,” I said in disbelief.
“Yeah I am. Twenty-eight and soon enough, I’ll be thirty. Pretty crazy, huh?” Pete looked generally amused.
“That is crazy…I’m just twenty-four.” And I had thought that I was old. Jesus. Pete looked a lot younger than he actually was, and seemed like he acted that way too. Strange.
“Ah, twenty-four. You’re young!” Pete said enviously, “I’d give anything to be twenty-four again, knowing the same crap I know now…Kid, lemme give you some advice…”
Oh great. Now this total stranger thought that just because he was four years my senior, he could give me all sorts of “wordly advice” that was probably just a bunch of bullshit.
“Uh, okay?”
Pete took off his sunglasses and looked at me straight-on. “Don’t spend the rest of your life looking for stuff, okay?” he said, “If you do find your cat, make sure that’s all you waste your time looking for. Don’t go searching for anything else.”
…That didn’t make any sense, and he seemed to notice the fact that I thought he was full of crap.
“Hear me out, Stump!! You waste your whole life chasing something, you’re just gonna get let down all the time.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. After sitting there for about an hour with no sign of Gerard Way, I got up and said good-bye to Pete. We hadn’t talked about much of anything after his crazy spiel, so I didn’t see much of a point in sticking around. He said he’d see me later, which I doubted, and that he was sure I would find the cat.
I climbed the wall again and headed home. By now, the sky was starting to darken just a little. Mikey would be home soon and would undoubtedly want to hear about the cat, but I decided it’d be better not to mention Pete.
A secret was getting started. I was going to keep Pete a secret from Mikey. Normally, we told each other everything, but somehow I thought it’d be better not to mention him.
When I got to the door, I was shocked at what I saw. There was Gerard Way, the orange cat, pawing at the door and meowing. I let him inside and gave him a few sardines. He looked like he’d enjoyed wherever it was he had gone off to, which was good. He probably had some lady-cat girlfriend somewhere now, getting ready to have a couple of kittens that would also be orange tabbies with stupid expressions.
The only problem was that Mikey didn’t come home that night.
No phone-call, no text message, no e-mail, no nothing.
The question now, is, should I go looking for him?
Author: shojohanzaisha
Warnings: Nothing at all.
Rating: PG
Genre: Mystery! Sort of.
Pairing: Patrick Stump & Mikey Way
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.
Summary: About a week after my job ended, the cat went missing. The cat’s name was Gerard Way. He belonged to my boyfriend, Mikey, and was named after his brother. Gerard Way was a large, orange tabby cat with big green eyes and a kink in his tail. We decided to name him after Mikey’s brother because Gerard the human always had a sort of stupid look on his face, just like the cat did, and for the most part, they were both pretty friendly. The only difference was that the cat didn’t talk at a million miles an hour and try to tell me why Boba Fett was the coolest character in Star Wars.
Notes: Heavily based on a scene from “The Wind-Up Bird Chronice” by Murakami Haruki. Best book ever. <3
“If you have time, go look for the cat, okay?”
If there was one thing I had plenty of, it was time. Having been laid off from my job as a professional gofer for a bank, I’d been unemployed for almost three weeks. All I ever did now was household chores; I cooked dinner, I did laundry, I paid bills, I cleaned the bathroom, I vacuumed the carpet, and so on. Four years of university studies down the drain. Not that a major in recording engineering was going to get me anywhere, anyway. The bank job had come from a connection that my uncle had, but since I was shit with numbers, all I could do was simple errands and stuff like that.
So when I got laid off (which, really, I actually got fired), I wasn’t really surprised. They wanted to hire somebody new, young, and pretty. I’m not new, I’m almost 30, and I’m definitely not anywhere near pretty.
About a week after my job ended, the cat went missing. The cat’s name was Gerard Way. He belonged to my boyfriend, Mikey, and was named after his brother. Gerard Way was a large, orange tabby cat with big green eyes and a kink in his tail. We decided to name him after Mikey’s brother because Gerard the human always had a sort of stupid look on his face, just like the cat did, and for the most part, they were both pretty friendly. The only difference was that the cat didn’t talk at a million miles an hour and try to tell me why Boba Fett was the coolest character in Star Wars.
Mikey and I had been living together for about three years. He had a job with a studio that designed calendars, though it wasn’t anything glamorous. They were the sort of calendars people just glance at in a bookstore but never really buy.
Anyway, so while Mikey was at work, he called me and asked me to go look for our cat, and that was exactly what I did. I put on a baseball cap to keep the sun out of my eyes and set out on my journey. It was the beginning of August, so it was unbearably hot outside, but I knew if I didn’t find the cat, Mikey’d be upset and complain about how I was just lazy and didn’t care about Gerard Way.
I started off down the street, trying to think if I were a cat, where would I have gone? What sort of places did cats hang out in during the summer? One would think that if a spoiled house cat went outside in this heat, it would march right back into the house and not move until fall came around. But whatever; I’m no cat-expert.
With no other option, I wandered around for a while. All the houses around me were starting to look the same. Brick walls, brown roofs, garages, lawn gnomes, sprinklers, the occasional dog chained up to a tree, barking its head off as I passed. So far, there was no sign of any kind of “cat-hang-out.” Really, if Gerard Way had been missing for so long now, he could be anywhere. Cats could move fast when they wanted, and if he’d been interested in finding a female cat to start a family with, if there weren’t any around here, he’d go somewhere where there was a sexy cat just waiting for him.
I must have been walking for an hour when I came across something sort of odd; a large, white cinderblock wall. There was no way around it; it separated this housing area from another one, though I had no idea why. The wall had always been there, and nobody really thought about getting rid of it. I stood on my tip-toes and peeked over the edge. Beyond the wall was a narrow alley way lined by wire fences and wooden fences people had put up around their backyards.
Unfortunately, I had a feeling that if I were a cat, this is exactly where I would go.
With no other choice, I managed to climb up the wall and get over to the other side. Luckily, I didn’t break anything on my way down. Once I got back on my feet, I squinted down the alley way and took a deep breath. Even though it was the height of summer, there weren’t any people outside; just sprinklers running, the occasional bird chirping or cawing, and dogs barking at one another. I began to feel like I was the only human being in the entire area.
I walked down the alleyway, turning my head left and right to examine people’s backyards. So far, there was no sign of any sort of orange cat. Finally, though, near the end of the alley, was what appeared to be an abandoned house; its backyard was overgrown with grass and weeds, and all of the plastic furniture was either faded or green and brown with mold. Grasshoppers jumped out of the long grass now and then, and bees flew around to some of the flowers that had sprung up near the back door of the house.
This was clearly a cat’s paradise.
For a few minutes, I just stood there, looking for any sort of sign of a cat. A few times the long grass rustled, but it was only because of a breeze. The cat was nowhere to be seen yet.
“What’re you doing?”
I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard that voice behind me. It was a young man’s voice, though it was oddly scratchy, like he’d smoked a pack a day since he was fifteen. Startled, I turned around and immediately spotted him; he was lounging on a plastic lawn chair in the backyard across from the abandoned house. On his nose was perched a pair of dark sunglasses, and he wore a pair of floral print shorts that could have been a bathing suit, and a red t-shirt. His hair was dyed black and cut at a goofy angle.
“…Hello? Did you hear me?” he asked, sitting up slightly.
I shifted awkwardly, one hand on the fence behind me. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m, er, looking for a cat, actually.”
He gave me an appraising look and made no move to get up from the chair. “A cat, huh? I don’t think I’ve seen a whole lotta cats coming through here lately. What’s it look like?” he asked. There was a pack of cigarettes and a blue, cheap lighter sitting in the grass next to him.
“Well, he’s a big orange tabby with a stupid look on his face and a kink in his tail,” I said, probably describing at least 30 million cats in the Chicago area alone. It was at that moment that I started thinking we should’ve put a really distinct collar on him.
“Ah, yeah, that cat,” the stranger mused, “I saw him. He kinda waddles, huh? You feed him too much. Anyway, I saw him come through here last week some time, but I haven’t seen him since.” He paused, lowering his sunglasses to look at me for a second. His eyes were dark brown. “Why don’t you come over here and we’ll watch for him for a while?”
I figured it couldn’t hurt, so I agreed. He let me in through the back entrance of the fence and set up another lawn chair for me. Normally I wouldn’t have done something like this, but I was in no hurry and maybe there would be some sort of sign of the cat if I waited long enough.
As soon as I sat down, the man thrust his pack of cigarettes and his lighter at me, one eyebrow raised in a questioning sort of look. “Uh, no thanks, I don’t smoke,” I said, shaking my head a little.
“Suit yourself,” he said, lighting one up for himself instead, “So you got a name?”
“Yeah, I’m Patrick. Uh, Patrick Stump.”
There was a moment of silence in which he probably didn’t believe that my last name was in fact Stump. It wasn’t really; it was actually Stumph, but that h is totally pointless so I always leave it off.
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. What’s your name?”
“It’s Pete Tree-trunk.”
I frowned at him.
“Okay, no really, it’s Pete Wentz. Nice to meet you, Stump.” He took a long drag on the cigarette and blew smoke up toward the sky.
“Yeah…Nice to meet you too.” It was so hot outside I felt like I was going to just start melting at any moment. I knew, at any rate, I’d have some sort of stupid looking sun burn by the end of the day.
“So what’re you doing looking for a cat? It’s Tuesday. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Pete asked curiously.
I sighed. “I got laid off. What’s your excuse?”
Pete shrugged carelessly. “I’m playing hookie. A couple months ago I was in a car accident with a friend of mine and got beat up pretty bad, so I’m milking it as long as I can,” he said, “In the summer, I never really feel like doing anything anyway. I guess I never actually grew up.”
Now that he said it, I noticed he did sort of remind me of a kid. “…How old are you?” I asked carefully.
He laughed and blew a smoke ring out of his mouth. “I’m twenty-eight. Can you believe it?”
Older than me!! What? I stared at him, startled. “No way. You’re not that old,” I said in disbelief.
“Yeah I am. Twenty-eight and soon enough, I’ll be thirty. Pretty crazy, huh?” Pete looked generally amused.
“That is crazy…I’m just twenty-four.” And I had thought that I was old. Jesus. Pete looked a lot younger than he actually was, and seemed like he acted that way too. Strange.
“Ah, twenty-four. You’re young!” Pete said enviously, “I’d give anything to be twenty-four again, knowing the same crap I know now…Kid, lemme give you some advice…”
Oh great. Now this total stranger thought that just because he was four years my senior, he could give me all sorts of “wordly advice” that was probably just a bunch of bullshit.
“Uh, okay?”
Pete took off his sunglasses and looked at me straight-on. “Don’t spend the rest of your life looking for stuff, okay?” he said, “If you do find your cat, make sure that’s all you waste your time looking for. Don’t go searching for anything else.”
…That didn’t make any sense, and he seemed to notice the fact that I thought he was full of crap.
“Hear me out, Stump!! You waste your whole life chasing something, you’re just gonna get let down all the time.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. After sitting there for about an hour with no sign of Gerard Way, I got up and said good-bye to Pete. We hadn’t talked about much of anything after his crazy spiel, so I didn’t see much of a point in sticking around. He said he’d see me later, which I doubted, and that he was sure I would find the cat.
I climbed the wall again and headed home. By now, the sky was starting to darken just a little. Mikey would be home soon and would undoubtedly want to hear about the cat, but I decided it’d be better not to mention Pete.
A secret was getting started. I was going to keep Pete a secret from Mikey. Normally, we told each other everything, but somehow I thought it’d be better not to mention him.
When I got to the door, I was shocked at what I saw. There was Gerard Way, the orange cat, pawing at the door and meowing. I let him inside and gave him a few sardines. He looked like he’d enjoyed wherever it was he had gone off to, which was good. He probably had some lady-cat girlfriend somewhere now, getting ready to have a couple of kittens that would also be orange tabbies with stupid expressions.
The only problem was that Mikey didn’t come home that night.
No phone-call, no text message, no e-mail, no nothing.
The question now, is, should I go looking for him?