Give Thanks There Is Still Time
© Copyright by Ethelle Gladden 2011
"Bobby! Bobby! Where are you, boy?" Big Momma called in her hoarse, cracked voice.
Bobby was having none of that. He lay frozen and silent under Big Momma's bed, in his newfound invisibility and deafness. There was no way he was going to mix with the mob of family at Big Momma's Thanksgiving dinner. One of his cousins let on that both their moms had been on the phone yakking about the cost of video games and game systems. They had come to the conclusion that both their kids had enough of that stuff to last a lifetime. Upon hearing that, Bobby's world had come to an end. Thus, he did what he always did in such situations; he called Barbara-Kitty in the silence of his mind.
Bobby flinched when a moist, warm nose touched his neck, and turning whispered, "Barbara-Kitty! How come you can always sneak up on me?"
The last he'd seen, Barbara-Kitty was sprawled atop her backyard throne, aloof from the goings on in the house. She'd braved high-heels, giant sneakers and loud guffaws to be at his side in another of his many times of need.
"It's not fair! It's a whole new generation of game systems! They're not even square anymore! They look like spaceships!" Bobby checked the rise in his voice and whispered, "It's not fair! They buy new cars, new clothes, and anything else they want. They don't ask me about it. They can do whatever they want. They have all the control!"
Bobby shot Barbara-Kitty a flustered look when she flashed him a picture of the world's smallest violin.
"What do you know? You're just a cat, and you don't have any control either!"
The gingery kitty bolted from under the bed to smack-dab in the middle of it, followed closely by Bobby.
"I'm sorry, Barbara-Kitty. It’s not your fault," he cooed soothingly as he hugged her. "I just wish I could jump to the future, 'cause then I'd be grown. Then I could do whatever I want, like they do. That would make this a real Thanksgiving. Then I'd really have something to be thankful for."
Barbara-Kitty glanced up at him and gave him a slow blink.
"Wait a minute! You could've been gone if you wanted to. Why did you stay? You have something to show me, don't you?" Bobby said excitedly. Just then, he felt his brain beginning to tingle, and Big Momma's bedroom melted away.
Bobby clung to Barbara-Kitty who sat motionless in the space made by his crossed legs. He swayed unsteadily as he looked down on the distant globe that he had been a part of only moments ago. He saw the bed, he and Barbara-Kitty encased in a bubble, and he was thankful for anything that separated them from the cold, dead stillness of outer space. The cat sat unflappable as they rapidly began descending to the United States, and then to its east coast. He was astonished to see rather than feel their descent. Thank goodness we're going home, he thought. But, Barbara-Kitty flashed a cityscape into his mind, instead of their suburban home.
Bobby stared at the tawdry, rundown scene before him. This was no slum area, this was the heart of downtown—the downtown of holiday parades and world-renowned window displays. This area was supposed to look nice, even if nowhere else did. Bobby saw taxis and delivery trucks picking their way around potholes and fissures that resembled canyons. The blank looks on the faces of the people driving made him uneasy. But where were the crowds of pedestrians? He heard a faint hum, but it wasn’t coming from the familiar, indistinct noise of people. He began to absentmindedly picture such crowds. That was enough for Barbara-Kitty to pick up on, and the bed wafted through a maze of alleys to a street corner, a few blocks away.
Bobby saw a familiar meeting place for the down-and-out. It was a liquor store. Big Momma called it the poor man’s department store. He’d seen people living like this, but not hordes of them so close to the business district. They were usually stashed far away and out of sight. But everything seemed different now. He noticed the same blank looks on these people’s faces as on those of the people driving the taxis and delivery trucks. Here, some awaited help from friends and relatives who were a bit less desperate than they were. Others clutched lottery tickets and hoped that this would be the day their luck would change. Bobby thought of all the times Big Momma had talked to him about that 'gambling foolishness,’ but these people seemed as likely to win the lottery as to get jobs. Yet, life went on, but why? He wondered why these people hadn’t taken to the hills to live off the land, or something. What kept them hanging on? He glanced at Barbara-Kitty who was staring intently at him, absorbing his every thought. Suddenly, she blinked and they were somewhere else.
“Now this is more like it,” Bobby said.
He looked around at the pristine skyscrapers growing out of equally pristine sidewalks, and the streets were paved. The cleanliness of the immediate area cheered him, and the sight of policemen relieved him. But why was this place kept so clean while everything else was left to decay? Still, where were all the cars, especially the limos, and why had that annoying hum returned?
“Barbara-Kitty, where are all the big shots! This place isn’t being kept up for the crowd we saw outside the liquor store!” Once again, to hear was to obey, and the bed floated upward.
They reached the dizzying heights of the surrounding rooftops, and Bobby understood where the persistent hum was coming from. Each well-maintained building had what now served as its garage.
“Heliports! They travel by helicopters instead of limos! Wow!” Bobby said excitedly. “Ouch! Why’d you scratch me?” he yelled and gave Barbara-Kitty an angry look that mirrored her glare. “Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked more quietly, and then swallowed hard with recognition. “They don’t care what the streets look like because they don’t use them.”
He was reminded of the absurdity of the neat lawns of well-kept homes that stood next to abandoned houses. Big Momma said it was like sitting next to a pile of garbage and pretending it wasn’t next to you. Big Momma!
“Barbara-Kitty, I want to go to our neighborhood!”
Ping!
Bobby saw the stark shadow of the suburb he shared with his relatives. There was greenery in the distant hills, but the ground was caked and bare matching the run down homes. There was a fearsome scene of a man and dog that seemed to be on patrol more so than a leisurely stroll. Was he a looter, vigilante, or a one-man police force? Bobby couldn’t tell. There were telephones lines, but did the phones work? What functioned around here? Were there still stores? What about the mall?
“Barbara-Kitty!”
Ping!
Bobby swayed as he clung to the cat; she was all that was real to him now. Certainly this rotting hulk of a mall was not real. The escalator he’d run up two steps at a time was all but rusted away. The other stores were gone, and a large, decaying space replaced them. His numb silence convinced Barbara-Kitty that it was time to leave. She would have enjoyed exploring, but she could sense his alarm.
And so, away.
Bobby brightened at the sight of a crowded, back-alley flea market. The stalls were alive with people, and they were bargaining as if their lives depended on it. I’ll take this to an abandoned mall any day, Bobby thought. At least the people seemed lively, if not cheerful.
Looking closely at the goods, Bobby saw that almost nothing was new. The few items that were packaged were battered and dusty, and looked like they'd been discovered in some time capsule. There were some dented cans of food, but most of the food had the delicious aroma of home-cooking. Also, there wasn't much money changing hands. Mostly, there was the direct bartering of goods.
Bobby looked at Barbara-Kitty, who turned her soulful eyes up to his, and said, "What happene
d? Why are things like this?"
Barbara-Kitty concentrated, staring at Bobby in her hypnotic way when she was desperately trying to tell him something. He knew that it was something best put into words, but she had never used words before.
"Keep trying girl! You can do it!"
The encouragement seemed to reach into her mind and coax out an image otherwise too foreign for her to imagine on her own.
Bobby stared at a graph that reminded him of those on his father's favorite news programs. Bobby remembered hearing his father and mother discussing the economy, the economy, always the economy. He stared at the angry, red arrow plunging downward and tried to remember some of what he'd heard discussed. Finally, recognition dawned on him.
"The economy's crashed!"
Bobby hadn’t fully understood what was being talked about when the folks droned on and on about the economy. He knew it was a mixture of jobs and banks, and such. However, there hadn't been any reality to it. Now there was, and he was scared.
"Barbara-Kitty, I want to go back to Big Momma's right now!" he said, with tears filling his eyes. "If I never get another video game for the rest of my life, I don't care! Please take me back!"
She drank in his emotions for a few seconds, and then the street bazaar melted from sight.
The globe appeared in sharp focus beneath them. The stillness was now welcome to Bobby; anything to backtrack from what he'd just seen below. Besides, it was neat and clean up here. If he had to choose between being in outer space and the decaying world below, he was not sure which he would pick. He looked at Barbara-Kitty, who blinked at him and almost smiled. He smiled, too, as Big Momma's bedroom suddenly appeared all around them.
Bobby gave the cat such a squeeze that she wriggled free in order to breathe.
"Sorry, Barbara-Kitty. I'm just so glad to be back. I'm giving thanks this and every Thanksgiving I don't have to live like those people we left."
He jumped off the bed and ran to join his family. But he stopped in the doorway and returned to the cat, who was washing her paws.
"That place looked real, and it didn't look like it was too far in the future," he said, unevenly. "Does it have to happen?"
For the first time, a purring, feline whisper spoke words to his mind.
"It's up to y'all."