Episode 7: Small and Brave
Do you walk the streets at night?
I’m a week late! I apologize! I’d like to blame the short month of February, but that would be a lie. Life, family, my daughter’s first birthday. It was all a whirlwind of exhausting joy. Can anyone relate?
Marredbury is a serial anthology, a combination of a larger narrative and a short story collection. If you missed an episodes of Marredbury, check out the table of contents.
Become a paid subscriber and check out the audio version. Thank you Ashley Crossman for the work you did on this project.
Small and Brave
Misty hunched over her phone as the bus rumbled from the last stop before hers. The hydraulics hissed and the engine roared as the bus picked up speed. The only other passenger, a man wearing three layers of coats, coughed from his seat in the back. Misty scrolled through her news feed.
Assumed Runaway Found Buried
Europe War Updates
Vigil Held at Grayson Park for Lacy Dyers
Police Chief Suggests Curfew for Women: A Precauti—
Misty scoffed and clicked the last headline. It cut off, but she already knew enough. She just hoped the curfew was being used as click bait and wouldn’t actually be implemented, like they were suddenly decades in the past.
“With a fifth victim of the Bus Stop Rapist hospitalized, Police Chief Hamer proposed a curfew for women taking public transportation.
‘The attacks occur at night, in isolated neighborhoods with poor street lighting and no witnesses. Women walking the streets that late are in danger. They will be safer at home,” Hamer pleads with the public.
And who is going to make up for the money Misty would lose giving up a closing shift at the restaurant. She scrolled lower in disgust. People can’t be taking this man seriously.
Pauline Kay, city counsel member and women’s activist, speaks against Hamer’s plan. “This antiquated solution is insulting and unjust. [Hamer] is suggesting we punish women for being attacked. It’s barbaric.”
Misty opened her search browser and typed in the counsel member’s name. The search brought up several articles about the counsel member’s work with women’s rights. Misty had time for a quick scan of the searches as the bus braked at her stop. She dropped her phone in her bag and pressed herself to her feet. The dull ache returned from her long day rushing from the kitchen to the dining room. Just a few blocks to her apartment and she could get off them for the night.
She typically shoved a wireless headphone in her ear for the walk to the apartment, but even one ear blocked left her vulnerable. She didn’t need any true crime podcast. Her corner of the town was getting a live show with the Bus Stop Rapist at large. Six foot tall, two hundred pounds. He was reported wearing a hood or baseball cap to cover his face. The police released the same information for weeks, no closer to finding the culprit while his victim list grew.
She scanned the sidewalk as the bus continued on its route. The streets were abandoned, no surprise after one in the morning. Misty thought about talking to her boss about letting her go a couple hours early for a while. The late night air chilled her through her sweatshirt, but the goosebumps running down her body weren’t caused by the cold.
Before starting for her apartment, Misty crouched before two bowls tucked on the inside of the bus shelter. She fished the to-go container of chicken from her bag and clicked her tongue.
Their eyes watched from the bushes. The light over the bus stop made them glimmer in the shadows. Misty checked over her shoulder. Only herself and the eyes, but her pulse continued to quicken. The news weighed on her mind. The quiet dark unsettled her.
In her rush, the container slipped from her hand. Chicken rolled across the sidewalk. A few eyes startled away with the commotion. Misty retrieved the container and scooped out the remaining chicken into one of the bowl. She hurried with her water bottle, filling the other bowl.
Misty clicked her tongue again.
“It’s still warm,” She coaxed the eyes to emerge.
Angel, the orange tabby, ventured from the shadows. He was always the bravest of the bunch, the first to befriend Misty on her walks home. He wasn’t a stray, like most of the other cats watching her from the bushes, just an outdoor house cat. He followed Misty for attention more than food. Angel couldn’t get enough attention.
The cat rubbed against Misty’s legs before nibbling on the chicken. Misty scratched behind his ears and he began to purr. The sound carried, confirming the safety and a small grey short hair poked its head from the leaves and sniffed the air. Misty named this one Ruby, after Ruby Bridges. A small girl to this small cat. Misty hoped the name would impart some of Ruby Bridge’s strength on the timid feral.
Taking Ruby’s appearance as her cue to leave, Misty gave Angel one last pat before continuing her journey home. Angel meowed his displeasure in her leaving, but didn’t follow. He would keep Ruby company, a good companion.
It seemed like every other streetlight was out. Misty alternated between a lit sidewalk and blackness. Each step into the dark squeezed her grip on her strap. Why had she read the news on the bus? Why did she insist on filling her quiet time with horror stories of girls and women getting kidnapped and murdered? Now, she watched the shadowed yards of the houses, curtains drawn, the world still with sleep.
Misty thought of her neighbors. She heard them through the thin walls of her apartment, loud and violent fights. She’d gotten involved, never called for help. It wasn’t her business. All she could do was look after herself. No one else was doing that for her and she couldn’t afford risking her neck for a stranger next door.
Now, the quiet tightened her nerves. Just another two and a half blocks and she would be at her apartment building. The building manager took good care of the property and it would be lit up unlike the dark blocks she had to walk to get there. A breeze rustled the foliage around her. Misty thought she heard the soft jingle of a cat’s collar. Perhaps Angel had decided to follow her after all.
A boot scuffed against the sidewalk behind her and Misty’s blood froze. She swiveled her gaze around to find a man walking several feet away. His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, a baseball cap hiding his face. He took deliberate steps toward her, his stride easily twice her own as he stood at least a half a foot taller than her.
Misty turned back around and hurried her pace. He was just a man walking home, just like her. No one wants to be out this late, of course he was in a hurry.
His heavy steps approached. Misty resisted the urge to break into a run.
“Hey.” He stopped a couple feet away and called to her.
She turned around. Beside her, a child had left a tricycle in the yard. Tall unmanicured bushes acted as a fence to the next door yard. Misty searched for any other movement, any other hint that another person was awake and around, but the houses remained still. Only the light from the stars lit this section of the sidewalk.
“I’m a bit lothst,” the man continued. “Can you point me toward Howard Threet?”
The police never mentioned that the rapist had a speech impediment, but the man’s lisp still sent ice through her veins. Her mind whirled with panic. Unease left her stomach quivering and her fingers shaking. She didn’t have to help him. Be rude, stay safe.
“I don’t know.” She turned and continued her walk.
“Wait,” the man said. “Just tell me if I’m going the right direction?”
She didn’t answer. Her breath hitched when she realized he began following her again.
“Hold up!” He raised his voice. “Wha’th your problem, bitch? I need help.”
The towering bushes overgrew onto the sidewalk, suffocating Misty. The man snatched her arm and spun her around.
She would scream. Kick. Scratch. Bite. She wouldn’t let him overpower her without a fight. As she stared up at him and his towering frame, her heart thudded in her throat. It would be a fight she would lose. All around her, houses were dark with slumber. Would anyone rise to her cries? Would they dial for help?
She tugged her arm, but couldn’t release his grip. Time slowed. His breath stank of rot and beer. His fingers pressed between the muscles and bone of her arm, bruising her skin.
His gaze flickered past her, the glower softening into confusion. She didn’t dare take her eyes off of him. His brows pressed together in a frown and his grip loosened just enough for her to yank her arm free.
She stumbled back as her heel caught on the cement but managed to stay on her feet. A hiss sounded behind her. The man didn’t react to Misty releasing herself. He stared at the bushes, studying them.
Angel slipped between her feet, hair along his back raised, tail large, and face twisted as he snarled and hissed. Other cats followed. Misty recognized many of them from the neighborhood, the cats that roamed the streets, the ones she fed with leftovers from the restaurant. They all stalked from the bushes and placed their bodies between Misty and the man, all poised for attack.
“What the fuck?” the man muttered under his breath.
The felines surrounded Misty. Black, white, grey, orange, striped calico and the sandy colored fur of a Siamese cat. The hair on their backs stood on end, trails enlarged, and teeth bared, daring the man to take a step closer.
He looked to Misty, his eyes questioning. He looked to her for answers, for help, like he’d forgotten that he’d just threatened her, that he made Misty fear for her life. Or perhaps he thought the cats around him were bigger than her petty human problem, like the animals were a bigger threat than him.
He kicked at the cat closest to him. The dusty white stray hissed.
“Shoo.” He leaned over and pushed the cat again. This time, a clawed paw swatted and raked down his arm. He cursed and leaped back. The man studied the pack of felines with wide eyes. Angel stepped front and center.
If Misty’s heart hadn’t been lodged in her throat she could have seen the comedy in the situation. A large man cowering from a bunch of house cats.
A deep growl rumbled in the throat of a black cat to Misty’s right. It was echoed by others, warning him to stay away.
The man pleaded with Misty one last time with his fearful eyes. She stared back at him and raised an eyebrow. He knew what he should do.
He turned and ran. Misty watched him disappear and reappear in the alternating street lights until he slipped around a corner, out of sight.
Around her, the cats settled. Angel rubbed against her leg. Misty leaned over and rubbed his head. Purring rumbled in his chest and spread through the crowd of cats.
“Thank you.”
Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t make sense of what had just happened, but the relief hit her like a deluge. Her hands shook and panic tightened in her chest. The reality of what she had narrowly escaped smacked into her. Misty took a couple steps toward the bush and vomited in the dirt.
She stood back up, wiping her mouth and started home again. The cats trailed behind her. Angel meowed at her feet and she picked him up. His warm body pressed against her chest and slowed her thudding heart. She stared at the sidewalk, only glancing away to check over her shoulder. The last block was just her and the cats. No signs of another person.
They waited for her while she punched in her code at the front doors of the apartment building. Some sat and watched. Others groomed themselves. When the door buzzed open, they began to leave. A calico rubbed its body across Misty’s calf before slipping into a nearby bush. She leaned over and scratched behind the ears of a long haired tabby. It purred and ran its body across her palm. Her protectors, her saviors. One by one the cats disappeared into the shadows. They all left except two, Angel and Ruby.
Angel’s collar glimmered with the light above the apartment door. He had an owner. A loving owner, Misty thought. It was what made him a leader, made him understand. He straddled two worlds, cat and human. Misty should find the address on the collar and let his owners know what a great cat they had, but she knew she never would.
Ruby mewed, quick and quiet. She’d never heard the cat speak before. Normally the shy cat wouldn’t let her even a foot near her, but this time Ruby allowed Misty to touch her. Misty picked her up. The cat trembled in her arms. Misty recognized the fear. She shushed her and cradled her close.
Seemingly satisfied, Angel finally left them. His orange fur stood out in the darkness for a few feet before he slipped behind some leaves and left them for the night.
Ruby started purring. She leaned against Misty’s arm and closed her eyes. Misty held her close as she walked through the apartment doorway. She’d never let anything happen to the cat. She’d watch over Ruby just as she had been there for Misty that night. Small and brave, just as Misty knew she could be.
Thank you for reading. Stay tuned next month for the next installment. Things are really starting to heat up in Marredbury!
If you are enjoying this series, please share with a friend. Your voice brings new readers.
Recent free subscriber and this is the first post I've had the chance to read. LOVED the "Small and Brave" story! Unexpected twist. I really enjoyed it.