A LITTLE BIT OF FICTION

I said originally that I would start sharing short fiction every week.  The truth is, I'm not as disciplined as I thought I was, but there will be more stories to share eventually.  This particular story is several months old now, and I'm fond of it.

Jack hesitated in the street.  This was not what he had expected, but the address was correct - it belonged to this little brick house with the well-kept yard and the red mailbox in front.  Always before he had scheduled meetings in abandoned lots and dark parking garages.  His tail dropped slightly, but he went up the driveway with the habitual determination that had earned the respect of his superiors.

            The lack of a moon and a malfunctioning streetlight kept Dr. Harven in shadow, but Jack’s eyes were keen.  It was unusual to find his old mentor perched comfortably on a porch like an ordinary housecat, surveying the neighborhood as though his priorities reached no further than the next-door dog and the occasional mouse.

            “Dr. Harven, I have been wanting to speak with you.”

            “Hello, Jack.  It has been a few weeks, hasn’t it?  I’ve not had the chance of catching up with you since your New York assignment.  Although,” the doctor paused delicately - “I will understand if you prefer not to discuss it.”  

Jack felt himself slipping back into the ease he had enjoyed in the days when he worked closely with the doctor, and felt the sting of a neglected friendship.  “I don’t think disaster would be an exaggeration,” he said.  “I can’t say that it wasn’t embarrassing, but I’m honored that the agency still feels that they can trust me.  I’m very ready to redeem myself and to move past all this, because frankly, sir, I feel that I can hardly be blamed for what happened . . .”

            “Don’t worry, Jack.”  The doctor showed a friendly cat-smile.  “No one is placing blame.”

            “And I understand the reasons for placing me on an easier assignment, and I know that if I were in the position of the Board, I would do the same.  I will give this job the same effort and energy that I would any job, sir.”

            Dr. Harven looked up at the peaked roof behind him.  “Does it look easy to you, Jack?”

            Jack scrambled to conceal his embarrassment.  “I don’t mean to sound prideful, sir, but anything that is happening here could not be as dangerous as most of what I’ve seen - just last month I was tasked with disbanding a gang of . . .”  He stopped when he saw the doctor’s expression.  “I’m sorry, sir.  This is not relevant.  I came here for a briefing.”

            The doctor raised himself onto all four feet and leapt down onto the front walk.  “Come with me, Jack.”

            Jack followed the older cat around to the back of the house.  A light was visible in one of the rear windows, through which Jack could see a well-kept kitchen.  It was early for most people to be awake, and the rest of the house was dark.

            “A good family lives here,” Dr. Harven said, taking a seat near the garage and examining the house with warm satisfaction.  Jack sat beside him, but his eyes stayed on his former mentor, taking in the age that had fallen suddenly onto a friend he so admired.  The doctor must be close to retirement, he realized.  Well, it was a hard life, and many cats could not live it even in their best days.  It was no wonder that it had taken its toll on even someone so legendary.

            “Two young girls,” the doctor was saying.  “The grandparents visit often.  The wife enjoys gardening and the man of the house works in . . . insurance, I believe.”

            Jack tried to pay attention to the details, but they seemed irrelevant.  

            “Any questions, Jack?”

            “Well, sir . . . what is the nature of the problem?”

            Dr. Harven looked almost ashamed.  “Jack,” he said gently, “I am an old cat, and it cannot have escaped your notice that most agents are out of the field by this time.”

            “Of course, but you have always been exceptional.”

            The doctor laughed.  “You flatter me.  The Board agreed to transfer me to another department rather than releasing me entirely, but I am not doing the work I was when you first studied with me.”

            A memory resurfaced in Jack’s mind.  It was a brief memo, something he’d brushed aside . . . Dr. Harven’s appointment to the Committee for Reassimilation . . .

            “Doctor,” Jack said urgently, “what is my job here?”

            “You were always a good student, my boy.  I am honored to have had the privilege of training you, and I gave the board the highest commendation on your behalf.”

“Sir, I’m enormously grateful . . .”

“But it is dangerous precedent to overlook rules, Jack.”

Jack felt his confidence slipping.

“After what happened in New York, the board had a very clear set of protocols to be followed.”

“Why did they not call me to a hearing?  Why did I never have a chance to defend myself?”

“The report from your partner on the assignment was clear.”

“Sir, Dr. Harven, I don’t think this is warranted . . .”

The doctor’s whiskers reflected the first hazy offerings of the sun.  His voice was carefully firm.  “As I said, Jack, a good family and a comfortable home.”

The insurance agent was drinking his second cup of coffee when he heard a yowling disturbance in the back yard.  He suspected a cat fight, but when he looked out he saw a lone figure sitting in the driveway, looking distinctly forlorn.  And he could not be sure, but if he had believed that cats could feel despair, he would have used that exact word to describe the cat looking back at him.