Shallow Graves

it.“
    Renfield suddenly looked up and past me. I fell for it. As soon as my head was turned, he was on my lap, the rear paws pedaling for purchase, the claws sinking through my suit and the teeth sinking through my tie.
    I yelled and stood up, prying him off and dropping him from about waist height. He hit the floor on all fours, but cried out, slinking away and favoring his right hip in a limping circle.
    Nancy ’s head and bra-strapped shoulders came around the bedroom door. “What was that?“
    “I don’t know. I just dropped him and—“
    But she’d already spotted Renfleld, now lurching near the pantry shelves, trying to scuttle under the lowest one. “Renfield? Renfleld, what happened?“
    “Nance, I told you. He—“
    She was out in the kitchen now, trying to corner him gently. “Jesus Mary, John! He’s just a little cat. What did you do to him?“
    “Nothing. Like I said, he jumped on me and I dropped him.“
    “It looks like his leg is broken.“
    “It can’t be. I just let him go from like here.“
    Nancy glanced at my hands in front of my belt, then finally got Renfleld bracketed. He let her pick him up, a little at a time. Once in her arms, Renfleld hissed at me.
    “John, he’s hurt.“
    “He probably just pulled something.“
    “Pulled something? The marathoner’s a vet now?“
    “ Nancy , give me a break, okay? I dropped him from like three feet in the air, and he landed on all fours. He’s a cat, he ought to be able to take that.“
    “Well, obviously he couldn’t.“ She shifted him carefully to hold him more easily. “I should never have had him de-dawed.“
    “Nance, he was shredding your furniture. And spraying it, too. Were you not going to have him fixed now, either?“
    That got me the steady, even voice. “It’s my birthday, John. It’s my birthday, and you crippled my kitty.“
    “ Nancy , he’s not crippled. His leg looks fine—“
    “He was limping!“
    “His leg seems okay. It’s his hip, like it’s out of joint, maybe.“
    “First he pulled something, now he’s got a dislocated hip?“
    I put up my hands. “Okay, okay. We’ll take him to the vet’s. Right now.“ I started digging in my pants for the car keys.
    “No. No, let me call first.“
    I waited while Nancy , using just two fingers of one hand, found the animal hospital’s number in her address book and dialed it. The half of the conversation I heard was: “My cat just fell from about three feet above the floor and... No, no, he didn’t land on his back or head. He landed on his feet... No, it just seems to be his leg. Or hip, maybe... Well, I don’t know if he’s in pain. He’s limping around and... No, he cried out once“— Nancy looking to me, me nodding to her—“but that’s it. Now he’s just hissing and... No, no, not at me. At—just hissing a little, now and then... You do? You’re sure? Well, I guess that makes sense... Yes, yes, thank you. I appreciate... Right, right. Bye.“
    Nancy hung up the phone. “A family just arrived with a collie who’d been hit by a car. The vet’s covering by herself, so she had to go.“
    “So should we bring Renfield in?“
    “The vet said no. She wants me to wait until morning because he might just ‘walk it off.’ “
    I thought about saying, “See?“ Instead, I said, “That sounds like a good idea.“
    “She said to pay a lot of attention to him, to make sure he’s comfortable. If he seems to be in constant pain, though, I should call her back.“
    I couldn’t think of a good way to ask the next question, so I didn’t. Nancy answered it for me by moving forward with the cat. Renfield growled, burrowing his head into her crossed arms.
    “John, I really think he has to sleep with me tonight.“
    “I understand. I’ll take off.“
    “No. No, could you stay here, on the couch? If he has to go in at three a.m., you could drive and I could hold him.“
    “Sure, Nance.“
    “I'm sorry about this.“
    “Same. “
    Nancy carried the cat into the bedroom. Over her shoulder, Renfield snarled at me, his two front teeth like the fangs of his namesake.

- 4 -

    I think the sound of a very light rain woke me up. The digital clock on Nancy ’s VCR said 8:20 a.m. Now 8:21. I sat up, my back creaking. The night before, I moved past her bedroom to the living room and tried the couch. Fine for sitting and cuddling, a tad short for sleeping. I’d taken the seat cushions off and spread them on the floor, covering myself with an