Witch's Cat

 

            Angela angrily kicked the gravel in front of her. It just wasn’t fair! She felt like she was more than ready, but Mom kept saying to just be patient. How much longer was she supposed to wait? Witches got their cats when they were around ten years old. Blowing out a breath of air in frustration, Angela couldn’t help thinking that maybe she wasn’t a witch. Maybe the witch gene sometimes skipped a generation. She was, after all, twelve years old. It was really rare for a witch to get her cat after she turned thirteen.

            This was probably the first time in her life that Angela actually dreaded her birthday. It had taken her longer and longer to walk home from school this past week. What if she never became a witch? Once a witch got her cat, she went off to Cassandra’s School for Witches. Angela longed to go there. She didn’t want to be stuck going to Clementine Middle School.

            Slowly, she walked by the gas station on the corner and turned down her street. With every step she took, she became more and more depressed. Her birthday was tomorrow! Maybe she should run away from home tonight. That way, she wouldn’t have to feel the shame of being the only girl in her family who didn’t have magical powers.

            Resigning herself to that thought, Angela walked up the front steps and let herself into the house. “I’m home,” she said softly. She threw her backpack on the floor and went to the kitchen to grab a snack.

            “Hey, sweetie!” Mom called from upstairs. “How was school?”

            “Fine,” Angela muttered. Grabbing an apple, she headed into the living room and flipped the TV on. She started browsing Netflix, looking for something to watch. She didn’t even notice Mom come in until she heard her shriek excitedly.

            “Congratulations, Angela!” Mom leaned down to give her a hug.

            “W-what?” Angela asked, confused.

            “What are you going to call him?” She pointed to the other side of the couch, and that’s when Angela noticed the black cat sitting there.

            Hardly daring to believe, Angela just sat there, frozen. Maybe it was her mother’s cat, Solomon. But no – Solomon just came in and settled himself next to Mom. Could it be? He stared into her eyes, and she felt the world fall away around her. Was that glitter on his fur? She reached her hand out to pet the cat, and he leaned into her hand and allowed her to touch him. A grin slowly spread over Angela’s face. “Is he mine?” The cat climbed into her lap and curled up contentedly.

            “Sure is.” Mom’s smile filled her whole face.

            Angela couldn’t believe it. Finally! She wouldn’t have to sneak out and run away tonight! She would be going to the witch’s school and see her two older sisters! She let out a happy little laugh.

            “So, do you have a name for him?”

            Angela had had a name picked out for years, but she suddenly realized that it wouldn’t fit this cat. She stared into his green eyes, thinking. Then, a name came to her. “Chesterfield?” she said, uncertainly.

            The cat blinked his eyes and purred, his whole body vibrating.

            “Yep. Chesterfield is his name.”

            “Congratulations, sweetie,” Mom said proudly. She took a deep, satisfied breath. “I have to admit that I was starting to get a little worried for you. You’re almost thirteen.”

            “I know, Mom. You weren’t the only one who was worried.” She ran her hand over Chesterfield’s back as he established himself further into her lap. Excitement threatened to overflow as she thought of the world of possibilities now open to her. For the first time in weeks, she was looking forward to what tomorrow would bring.