Page 48 of Kitten

“She’s trying to get outside. I think she wants to go for a swim.”

“No, I don’t think you should do that.”

“She enjoyed swimming yesterday. It really cheered her up.”

“Don’t let her outside. She’s clearly sick.”

Normally, I enjoyed when James told me to do things, but this time I felt awful. Now I really was holding Silver hostage. I felt very sorry and useless in the face of her suffering. She was trying to explain something to me, but I didn’t understand, which seemed unfair because she always understood me. But that wasn’t entirely true; I basically knewwhat she wanted. I just wasn’t allowed to give it to her, which was worse.

Silver gave me a look of desperation, like she knew we were discussing her. “What do you want me to say?” I said to her. “Tell me, and I’ll tell him.”

“Tell me what?” James asked. “Who were you talking to?”

“Are you sure she can’t go outside? She’s been trying to open the front door all morning.”

“Please lock it.”

I looked at Silver. She looked back at me.

I turned the lock. Her eyes widened.

“I’m sorry,” I said, kneeling. This time, she let me touch her, as if having accepted her situation. I thumbed the gunk from her eyes and caressed her ears the way she liked. She rubbed her tiny forehead against my fingers.

“It’s okay.” James believed I was apologizing to him. He took a breath. When he spoke again, his voice was clipped, like he was expecting more bad news. “And the vet bill? I didn’t get a charge.”

“I paid it. I mean, Isabelle did, but I paid her back.”

“The paycheck went through? How much was the bill?”

“Around a thousand. A thousand two hundred and ninety-nine.”

“Jesus. You paid her back fully?”

“Do you not believe me?”

“No, I’m just—thank you for doing that. Can you just make sure she’s eating, has enough water? How’s her litter?”

“Her litter?”

“You’ve been doing her litter.”

I’d forgotten about her litter. “Yes,” I said.

“Did you forget about her litter?”

I apologized. I swore to do it right after the call. James sighed, like he was only just realizing that I had these seriously inconvenient qualities. I didn’t consciously hide my passivity from him, but it didn’t usually have such clear consequences. At the same time, I was relieved he was finally upset with me instead of comforting me like usual.

“Can you send me a picture?”

“Of her poo?”

“Yes,” he said loudly. “Send me a picture of her poo.”

I agreed. I apologized for being immature. He said that I wasn’t immature but still had a lot to learn. Again, it satisfied me to hear this, recognition of our unequal positions. “I don’t think you’ve ever done that before,” I said. “Told me I have a lot to learn, like I’m a student and you’re my teacher.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Do you not enjoy feeling more powerful than me?”