Oreo

One: The Meeting

I was strolling down the street, dragging my heels. A couple months ago my parents decided that they wanted a house in the countryside and before I knew it, they'd bought a luxurious place on the outskirts of a picturesque village called Amberton.

The house was large and filled with fancy furniture, and I knew I was lucky to live there but it just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the way my new neighbours jeered that it had been haunted by a ghost lady since the 1900’s. I didn’t sink to the level of believing those weirdos, but the crumbling bricks of the ivy-coloured manor house still had an eerie quality to them. I dismissed this thought, blaming homesickness. The clouds above me gradually grew darker and then, without warning it began pouring down with rain. It was heavy and cold but I didn’t want to return to the house, for whatever reason, so I head down to the local park, hoping for some kind of shelter among play equipment.

To my relief, there was a large wooden gazebo waiting for me, complete with a little bench and table. I settled myself down and sighed, enjoying the relaxing sound of the rain as it splattered onto the roof. I felt, for a few minutes, like the only person in the world. A calming thought.

Mew.

The noise made me jump. I glanced under the table searching for the source.

Meew.

I locked eyes with a small cat, a kitten maybe. It had a creamy coat and dark brown paws, with a brown nose and tail.

‘Aww!’ I whispered, my love of cats fighting violently with the side of my brain that told me to ignore it in case it was flea-ridden. Or violent. Or haunted.

The kitten padded closer, out of the corner of the gazebo. I slowly reached out, and after a moment of hesitation the creature placed its tiny paw in it.

‘You’re beautiful...’ I breathed, staring into its gorgeous blue eyes. ‘I’m sorry, am I in your home?’

It inclined its head to the side, as though examining me. I don’t know why, but this cat was the first thing I had felt at home with since I moved to Amberton.

‘Do you have a name, kitty?’ I asked.

The animal turned its gaze up and nodded its head.

‘D-did you just answer me?’ I gasped, blinking furiously.

The cat turned its head back and gazed at me vacantly.

‘Of course not. Maybe I’m finally losing the plot.’ I sighed, rubbing its head. The rain had lightened up now, so I got to my feet and headed out of the shelter. ‘So long, pussycat.’

Mew.

This time I seriously jumped. I leapt out of my skin, then span around, breathing fast. ‘You followed me?’ I asked the little cat that stared up at me.

Mew.

That’d be a yes. I smiled at my new friend and kept walking.

Meww.

I turned around to watch the kitten waddle over to some tins of paint, probably left over from decorating this new sports court. Unsure of the cat’s intentions, I kneeled down beside it, waiting for some sign of instruction. The cat gave me a little nibble, then placed a paw on one of the golden lids. I knew I might've got in trouble for opening the paint since it wasn’t mine to open, but I still gripped the lid and peeled it off. I swear I could see a smile on the cat’s face as it dipped its paw into the sloppy blue liquid. It began to smudge its paint covered paw over the grass.

If the cat hadn’t communicated with me, I would have no doubt that it was just a playful stray wiping paint on the ground. But this was more than a kitten. It was purposefully padding around, making great strokes and splodges for a few moments. Then it stood back and looked proudly at its work.

I realised with amazement, that it was a word:

Oreo.

It took me a moment, but then I realised, ‘That’s your name, isn’t it?’ 

Oreo nodded.

‘If you have a name, do you have an owner?’ I wondered.

It shook its head.

‘Well, it’s nice to meet you Oreo, I’m Avery.’

I didn’t know what had happened to its owner, or what the hell happened to make this cat magic, but I did know that I would not be able to leave Oreo here alone, and return to the creepy manor alone. ‘Come on, let’s get that paw washed.’ I scooped up little Oreo and made my way back home.

It would have been perfect; I take him home, my parents adore him, and we all live happily ever after. The only problem was that I wasn't allowed a pet. I didn’t know why, though I was sure my parents had given me plenty of reasons - whether it be responsibility, costs, effort... I gave Oreo an apologetic look as we approached the majestic gates, then carefully placed him in my hoodie pocket.

I slipped through the courtyard and knocked on the front doors. My mum pulled them open, and immediately her eyes went to the bulge in my pocket, so I smiled sweetly and rushed under her arm into the house. I stumbled up the stairs and made sure my bedroom door was firmly shut before taking Oreo out. I carried him into my ensuite and placed him gently into the sink. ‘Shh...’ I whispered, twisting the tap and letting a little stream dribble into the basin.

Oreo held his messy paw up and I pressed the dispenser, splodging white soap onto it, then he started to lick it. ‘No no no, soap tastes horrible. Trust me.’ I said, rubbing the liquid into lather. I grinned at this adorable sight as he ran his paint-covered paw under the tap. When he was done I picked him up and placed him on my bed while I searched through my bags and pockets, eventually getting together a suitable amount of cash.

‘Do you want to come with me?’ I asked him quietly, pocketing the money. He leapt off the bed in response and curled into a tiny fluffy ball. I smiled as I placed him back inside my hoodie.

I escaped the house without any drama and let Oreo out. He strolled alongside me, possibly wandering where we were going. Actually, I realised, I didn’t know where we were going either. I had a rough idea; I thought I’d seen it on a few of our family trips to the supermarket. My guess was confirmed when the large green warehouse came into view. Oreo seemed to know exactly where we were (perhaps he had ventured here before) and bounded through the front door.

We left the pet shop with some food and supplies, but I couldn’t figure out a way to smuggle a cat tent into the manor house in my hoodie pocket... I thought hard as we walked home. ‘What am I gonna do, Oreo?’ I asked. Oreo mewed, and I’m not sure if it was just me, but it sounded as though he didn’t know either. I sighed, then I had an idea. I pulled off my jumper and hung it over the huge bag, covering the pet shop logo. As I approached the gates, I decided that if worse comes to worst I would just hand them Biscuit-Boy and hope they would fall in love. To my luck, when I got inside, the house was totally vacant. I stepped in, sighing with relief. Even if my family weren’t gone long, it gave me a chance to settle Oreo in. I hurried up the spiral staircase and into my room, making a mental note to buy a lock.

My room was massive; there were plenty of spaces to accommodate a kitten but no crannies to hide one. I clambered all over my bedroom, checking under high furniture and inside every cupboard and corner – but there was no perfect place for Oreo to stay. On my way across the floor, I tripped and grazed my knee. My carpet hadn’t been fitted yet, so I’d just been wearing my trainers on the dodgy wood floor. I fell down and glared back at the offending floorboard, clutching my leg.  I would have stood up and moved on, but something was wrong.

The floor was glowing.

Oreo was right by my side. He took a step toward the glowing crack and turned his head to gaze back at me with his striking blue eyes. I crawled over, eyebrow creased, my mind racing through possibilities, crossing every one out. I took a deep breath, lifted the floorboard off and engulfed us both in blinding white light.