The Cattails of Doody Newman

Chapter Five ^^ Docar

Docar stood tall and answered, "Yes, you have heard of me, and you are absolutely right!"

Then the voice said, "How would you like to be famous as well as feared, and never worry about losing a fight for the rest of your nine lives? And how would you like to triple your lives to 27 lives?"

"Well," Docar said, "that is a very tempting offer. What if I say yes? I would like to have all of that, so what would I have to do? And by the way, how do I even know you are telling the truth?"

"SILENCE!" The voice yelled so loudly the ground shook. Docar was not afraid. He was never scared of anything. He lived his life with such a dislike of all things that he had nothing to lose, so nothing ever scared him or disrupted anything he ever did. The voice said it had been watching him, and that it thought he would be a great candidate for what he wanted. Well, Docar had never had anyone compliment him on anything before, and he felt a twinge of...delight.

"So," Docar said, "go on."

The voice said, "It's been two days and two nights, and on the third day this fog, actually called 'foag,' will lift and you will have everything you ever wanted, anything you will ever need. You will never lose a fight, and you will live 27 lives. At the end of that time, I will tell you what you will need to do for me to keep up your end of the bargain."

Docar thought about it for a minute, and said, "Why do I have to wait all that time for you to tell me what I need to do?"

And the voice said only three words.

"You will see."

Docar thought about it, and it seemed like a sweet deal. Even if he had to lose a fight or give something up, it wouldn't be until he'd lived out his 27 lives, and he would probably be ready to give up by then...whatever he had to...so he agreed. By that time, it was almost morning and he was tired. He found a tire in the alley and went to sleep.

When he woke up, he felt different—stronger, with more energy, and not as hungry as he usually was after getting up from a nap. He made his morning rounds of bullying the local cats as he strolled. Noticing, as he walked, that not only was the fog (or foag) gone, but he had a sort of fog (or foag) following him wherever he went. He knew about shadows and how the sun cast them when you stood in its rays. But this shadow was different. It made a sort-of hissing sound when he walked, and whoever he approached looked like they were petrified before he'd even gotten to them. Docar was thinking that part was really cool, that it was even better that his foag hissed and was heard before he'd even arrived.

After that day, Docar's life was never the same. He was even more feared by everybody around him than he had been before. He noticed the more fights he won, and the more famous he became, he didn't have to eat as much. It felt like he had just eaten every time he fought. When he won, he usually felt so full that he would have to take a nap to sleep it off.

After a while, there were no more local cats to fight, so he decided to take it on the road. He went from Washington state to Maine, from New Jersey to California, from Florida to Texas and all the states in-between. As you can guess, Texas was so big, both tall and wide, and the felines, well, let's just say, everything is bigger in Texas. Docar liked Texas so much he decided to stay. About halfway through his journey he noticed that he'd stopped eating altogether. He didn't need food anymore, because the evil feeling that he got from fighting and winning was filling him up in ways that no mere can of sardines ever could. He also noticed the shadow that followed him everywhere was everywhere now and had somehow become a part of him—that it was him. In fact, it was more him than he had ever been. It was around life 24 that he started to get tired and bored of his "new" life, and when he wanted to go to the big wet can in the sky. But he had made a promise that he would continue on until he had lived 27 lives. He became the most famous and feared cat in all the nation. But even with all the fame and fortune and everything he'd ever wanted or needed, he was not happy. He still wanted more. He would often say there's got to be something more to this life. But sadly, he would never find that something more. Because eventually, he became less cat and more foag. Near the end of his life, he didn't even have to walk anymore; he just floated. That mysterious substance that interested him and covered the land those three days early in his first life eventually took him over and became something that was once called Docar, the most famous and feared cat ever. Docar was no more; he just became one with the fog, or so they thought...

    His whole life, Docar had wondered, "What will I have to do to become the most famous and feared cat in the world?" On the last day of the last life of the most famous and feared cat in the nation, Docar finally found out what he was to do. The voice that had remained with him every day and throughout every life, spoke again at the end, and this voice sounded tired and faint.

"Docar," the voice said, "you have been given everything that you could ever want, or need, and now it is your time to give back. You will roam this earth as the foag you have become. You will influence the evil, bully the innocent, and feed on the fear of the chosen and the good."

With that, the voice was gone.

The greed and dislike of all things good made Docar choose to live a life that looked like it was the envy of everyone. In the beginning, it had really been great, but after a while, his life as he became more and more one with the foag, got boring... When he finally learned what he was to do forever, he had purpose again. He was to roam the earth for all eternity, spreading bad to all who would listen, to those who thought like him, and who wanted what he wanted. He would feed on the fear of the chosen and the good. Wherever someone had a doubt about doing good, he would arrive and make sure the good had been erased from their minds and replaced with fear and evil instead. When he finally understood he would be miserable forever, he decided if that were so, he would be the best at it; he would make sure to prey on the weak, to bring misery and doom to anyone he could.

When Xander finished telling the story, I felt a lump the size of a golf ball in my throat. My stomach had butterflies going 'round and 'round, and my nose had started doing the "twitch."

Oh, my good feline, could my very own shadow be the Docar foag?