Page 49 of Kitten

“What are you talking about? Do you think I’m more powerful than you?”

I glanced at Silver, who was standing and peering at the door. I supposed James was more powerful than me in the same way that I was more powerful than an animal like Silver. But she wasn’t powerless, either. She was behind the heat of our entire conversation.

“Only in the most obvious ways,” I said. “Like, you’re older. And you make money. An actual adult.”

“You’re an adult, too.”

“Not compared to you.”

“All these things were true when you met me.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know them back then.”

“I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now,” he said in a voice that implied that he did. I felt bad about messing up with Silver and now I was trying to make him feel bad, too. Sometimes I wished James knew me less.

I backtracked. “It’s not that serious. I don’t mean you’re more powerful in a harmful way. Only that I rely on you for, like, my life.” The last part I blurted without thinking, but it was true.

James was quiet. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “I only meant that you’re capable of doing serious damage to my life, more than I am to yours.”

“Do you really believe that you can’t hurt me?”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s talk about this later.” James sounded defeated. “We’re not going to come to any meaningful conclusions on my commute.”

“Okay.”

“Are you okay?”

I said yes. I began to tell him that I missed him, but then he said, “Remember to take a picture, okay? Right after we hang up,” and then we hung up. My cheek felt hot from the phone screen.

I went upstairs to take a picture. In the hallway, I opened a window to let some air in. I never made it to the bathroom, because at that moment, a loud noise echoed from downstairs. Behind me, my wet feet left a trail like a crime scene. A breeze slipped down my back, so slight I could’ve imagined it. No, no—the door was locked. I repeated thisto myself: I’d locked the door. And yet that was the sound of a door slamming shut.

For some reason—fear, denial—I would not let myself move until I’d made sense of what had happened, thinking through the events and details of the morning until finally it occurred to me, obvious: the door was already locked when I called James, so by turning the lock when he asked me to, I had unlocked it.

Then I ran.

16

The sidewalk cut into the soles of my feet. Hot concrete, then hot sand, then cool damp shore. The beach was empty. High tide, morning. My lungs filled with air, heavy as water.

I plunged into the ocean. The waves were harsh and resistant. She was here somewhere, I knew it. Had she managed to make it through the worst of the waves? I opened my mouth to say her name and it filled with water instead, that familiar feeling, shock of jumping into the pool before I knew to swim. How vast everything seemed then. Indomitable mass of water. The scarlet of Silver’s nose when wet, flat ears and darkened fur, salt-stiff curls on her stomach. The scallops James cooked on the first night, glittering with butter, delicious. “Rondo Alla Turca,”Casablanca.My life the size of my mother’s bed, happiness as achievable as sleep.

I surrendered below another wave, larger than the last. Thinking of Silver’s weightless body, I kicked myself past the most treacherous stretch—just a few feet farther and the ocean would grow calmer, I had to believe this. And yes,when I traveled out, the waves were less forceful, but still I could not fully control my movements, could only let my body drift on the heaving surface, pulled by an indifferent tide.

For a long time I let the ocean handle me, losing feeling, finding nothing. My throat burned with the effort of calling for her, scraped raw by salt. The waves dragged me farther out to sea until without warning they arched above me and just like that I was underwater, flipped and spun like a sock in a washing machine, helpless against the brutality of momentum. My lungs burned with need. I realized it was very possible I could drown. And then James’s smiling face flashed in my head, and I filled with a devastation so pure it felt like love, and finally the waves spat me onto shore where I coughed and coughed until I could breathe again.

When the black spots in my vision cleared, I was surprised to see that the sky was blue. Seagulls crowded noisily overhead as if hungry, or in celebration. It was a beautiful day. I began to feel hopeless. The ocean was very big, and she so loved to swim.

—

Isabelle opened the door nottwo seconds after I rang the bell. As soon as he could spring through the opening, Bruno thrust his paws on my chest and licked my face. I swatted him off; I had no patience for his aliveness.

“Are you okay?” Isabelle wrestled Bruno away from the entrance. She was still in her pajamas, lavender silk with a paisley print and monogrammed pockets. “Did you run here?”

When I told her what happened, Isabelle disappeared into the house and came back running with Bruno’s leash. “You’re sure she’s not at home?”

I was sure.