Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Write CONTEMPORARY FICTION (10/30/14)
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TITLE: Sadie McMartin, Angus Jones and a Cat Called Oscar | Previous Challenge Entry
By Helen Carr
11/06/14 -
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Banshee, Banshee, she screams your name!”
Sadie McMartin stared out through the dulled, loose stained-glass window panels, watching the children run away from the leader of their game in the cul-de-sac’s reserve. Oscar, the obese tabby cat was sprawled out beside her on the stained, threadbare chaise. He pawed playfully at her skirt, demanding she lavish the attention on him once again.
“Don’t worry, Osky, they’ll soon nick off home and leave us be. Gawd, y’d think they’d have more to do wiv their time than play that stupid game. Huh, like I could care less.” Oscar mewed and placed a tufted paw on her knee. “’T’s okay, Osky, I know you love me. Ga’hn then, go find the rabble!” Oscar leapt to the floor, stretched his front, then his back legs, and plodded into the brown and orange kitchenette, his claws tickety-ticking on the cracked, lime green 1950s linoleum. Sadie retrieved a supersized can of Kitty-Time Seafood Basket from the near empty cupboard and lodged it into the Sunbeam electric can opener. Whir whirrrr whirrrrrrrr-Chink. The sound, combined with the pungent aroma of the seafood, appeared to draw the attention of every cat within cooee. “Settle down, you lot! There’s ‘nough to go round.” Sadie sat on the lone, grey cracked vinyl chair in the room, the chanting still echoing through the asbestos-lined walls. Sadie combatted it with a chant of her own; somewhat genius as a child, over the space of four decades the words had lost their effectiveness on others,
“Nasty, horrid spoilt brats,
Your words don’t hurt me, so how’s ‘bout that!”
The tears on Sadie’s face proved they were losing their effectiveness on her, too.
Angus Jones was his parents' “special boy.” The final - and totally unexpected - of six children, Angus, at 10 years of age, was clearly not like his peers. Taller, slower, bigger; there was little that didn’t set Angus apart from his classmates, and they capitalised on this fact daily.
One nondescript day, whilst kicking a stone along the footpath that would lead him to yet another day of humiliation, Angus made a choice. Stuff the footpath, he thought, suddenly veering right. For the first time, Angus was playing hooky; and it felt incredible! Surprisingly energised, he pushed forward. Before long he found himself standing “out of bounds” on the banks of the river that ran behind his home. Over a footbridge, down a slippery embankment, along a natural path made of leaf-covered rocks, until…looking around, he had no knowledge of where he was, nor any recollection of the path he'd taken to arrive there. Tired, hungry and increasingly overwhelmed with anxiety, he sat and cried.
Sadie rarely left the confines of her house. There was, of course, the need to purchase food for the cats, but that was a quick trip in and out of the local IGA, not more than 50 metres from her door. But walking? That was a rarity. This day, however, she had no choice. Oscar had gone missing. Any of the other cats, should they stay out overnight, and Sadie wouldn’t notice their absence, but Osky, he was more than just a pet, they were best friends. They relied on one another. She had to find him.
Suppressing the rising panic Sadie pushed past the ivy and old, disused cobwebs adorning the gate at the back of her yard. Turning to her right she scoured the undergrowth and shrubbery for any sign of her Oscar. There was nothing. Further along the river she wandered, her breathing shallow and her face resembling a plump, ripe berry. It was no use. She’d reached the end of the path; Oscar was gone. Overcome with a barrage of emotions, Sadie sat and tried to gather her thoughts.
Prrr-ouw.
“Oscar?”
Prrrr-OUW.
“Oscar?!” Sadie hurriedly parted the overgrowth at the end of the path and steadied herself to clamour across the briars. A boy, about 12 years old, looked straight at her, his face pale, yet void of all expression. Sadie waited for the usual slurry of insults; “Let ‘em come! I just want me cat.” Sadie stepped forward to gain Oscar’s attention.
“Hello my name is Angus this is Tabitha I just found her she is my friend do you know where I live?”
Sadie McMartin and Angus Jones became unlikely friends that day. Together they sat on the banks of the river, silent, but strangely content.
“Oscar.”
“Huh?”
“HIS name is Oscar.”
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