What Bootsie saw

1.

Tasha Brown was always a bit of a loner. She had always had a tough time making friends. In many ways the tables have been stacked against her from the start. By the standards of her peers she lived a pretty miserable existence. She was diabetic, she didn’t like TV or modern music, she didn’t have a cell phone and she didn’t really go on the internet. As a result all she ever really cared about was books and school work and her cat Bootsie. 

The reality was that she wasn’t really all that miserable. Tasha was an old school sort who actually preferred to spend her free time studying and reading books. Bootsie was all the companionship she needed.

2.

While Tasha was always a solitary girl, she withdrew even further when she found out that her father, a marine stationed in Fajullah, had died in combat.

The day of the funeral, Tasha and her mother were approached by her father’s best friend from over there, a man by the name of Roberto. Turned out that Roberto and her father bonded over the fact that they both came from Providence. After his tour was over and he returned home “Uncle Roberto” would frequently come by to check on them. 

He was a stout man, but muscular and thick. He had an olive complexion and a black crew cut that seemed to match. His eyes were cold and dark, which didn’t match his warm, caring personality at all. 

That Christmas (about two years ago now) Uncle Roberto showed up carrying a big brown box that looked like it weighed a hundred pounds. It wasn’t until he put it down on their kitchen table that Tasha noticed the little black holes cut on the sides. 

Tasha’s mother worked very hard and tried her best to support herself and her daughter but it wasn’t easy. So, while she did make sure that her daughter got a nice list of very decent Christmas presents the best present of all was what was in that box. 

Tasha couldn’t believe her eyes when she opened it and saw the tiny black and white kitten looking up at her. This was only the third pet she had ever had. The first was a pair of goldfish when she was four that she barely remembered and the second was a pair of hamsters from when she was 6 that died after two months from being disgusting little rodents. 

She came home from school one day to find one of them eating the other and her mom decided to make an executive decision and get rid of both of them. 

So this kitten was her first real pet that offered real companionship. 

The kitten, Bootsie, named for the white fur that went halfway up her four legs that look like she is wearing boots, didn’t exactly get Tasha out of the house more and she didn’t help her make any new friends but she did make her happy. 

3.

The thing that made Tasha's walk down the Blackstone jogging path kind of unsettling was the fact that after 9pm in East Side Providence the streets and sidewalks are all completely empty, and all the local shops and businesses are closed. And this is on a Friday night. A particularly foggy Friday Night at that. 

Still, with her pink windbreaker zipped up to where you could only really see her big brown eyes behind her large, circular black-rimmed glasses she persevered. Because of her small, lanky stature one could almost confuse the fourteen year old girl for a boy. 

Were it not for the pink sneakers that matched her windbreaker. 

She worked through that unsettling feeling for a greater purpose, and that was finding her cat who had just minutes before ran out of her house and towards the jogging path. 

At the brisk pace she was walking the thought of stopping occurred to her as she passed by each bench but it was getting late, it was cold and creepy out and she was just about to start feeling like maybe everything she was doing was pointless. That she would never see her cat Bootsie again. 

She had to stop and sit because she had long since lost sight of Bootsie, who disappeared into the fog.

It was a straight walk down the Blackstone path until the halfway point where she finally decided to stop. She had walked past the stone hut that her classmates refer to as the “Blair Witch Hut”, past that hauntingly beautiful statue that she admired, the one of the angel with the sash over her eyes holding the sword. Lady Justice. Past six different other benches, each with a plaque dedicated to some local rich person, before she reached the midway point where she sat next to the black metal mailbox nailed to the side of the bench that said “lost and found”. The irony of it didn’t escape her. She almost laughed. She almost cried too. 

Out of sheer curiosity she decided to open the box. There was nothing inside that particularly interested her. A single black motorman’s glove, a set of keys, a cell phone charger, a pacifier. 

She listlessly rifled through the junk in the box a little bit more when she noticed that it suddenly got much colder and the wind was picking up. It was probably going to start snowing at any minute. She felt a few random drops of rain fall on her nose which confirmed her suspicion. 

Not sure whether to go back towards home or further down the path she noticed that it was getting increasingly difficult to stand up and that her hands were starting to shake. She knew that sick feeling, like her very life force was being sucked away. It was a diabetic attack. 

She tried to remember if she ate anything before she left the house and she couldn’t. 

She then checked her watch only to find it had stopped, both hands pointing at twelve, which she knew was impossible. 

Not only that but she noticed a flash of strange lights in the sky. The last thing she needed was to be stuck outside during a lightning snowstorm. 

She picked up her phone and tried to check the time but it wouldn’t turn on, which she realized meant that she couldn’t call her mother. She was starting to feel the rising tide of anxiety as she started to panic. 

The light in the sky was now flashing more rapidly, more like a pattern, which worried her to the point where she didn’t even want to look up. She just wanted to get out of the cold. 

It took every bit of willpower and effort she could muster just to will herself off of that bench and back, just a few measly yards, towards the cover of the Blair Witch Hut. 

It couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards away towards that stone hut which used to serve as a trolley pick up for the cemetery on the opposite side of the street, but it just kept getting colder… 

…and it started to snow and then everything was turning white… 

…and it was so hard to move… 

…and the lights in the sky…

Like in an old horror movie, she tripped and fell, her glasses falling off of her face and into the fresh layer of snow. 

She didn’t even notice as she kept on making her way towards the hut, now crawling on her hands and knees like she had just been shot. Each shallow breath seemed to take more and more of her strength. 

It only took her about a minute to make her way into the hut and prop herself sitting up against one of the stone pillars. That was when everything went black and she passed out.  

4. 

The attention span of a cat is pretty short. 

Tasha had seen Bootsie stare out the window plenty of times. Usually at the birds or the squirrels. She would sometimes sit for hours in front of that window just staring out. 

But the thing of it was that she never really looked at anything too intently or for too long. At least not the way she had been that night. 

Something had caught Bootsie’s eye and it wasn’t until an hour later that Tasha even noticed, as she was arguing with her mother. 

Her mom seemed to enjoy reminding her of how she worked very hard to put food on the table and clothes on Tasha’s back, Especially if she asked for anything after she got home from work. 

Tasha always felt deep down that her mom was right to bitch the way she did but would get annoyed at what the entitlement that came with the bitchiness itself. “You think that just because you work all day it don’t mean shit that I been waiting for you to come home?” Tasha argued. 

“So I can take you to the store? To buy cat food? Taking care of the damn cat is your responsibility. You got money, you shoulda gone to the store yourself after school.” 

“It was cold and rainy all freakin’ day, mom! Then you expect me to walk back home with that big ass bag of cat food?! When you can drive to stop and shop in literally five minutes!” Tasha screamed back, now flustered. 

Bootsie looked back at them for a second but instead of doing what she’d normally do when there is yelling, which is leave the room, she tuned it out and stayed focused on the oddly formless, chittering thing outside. It was like a small pile of insects, but it wasn’t. Not like any that she’d ever seen. 

And the sound…

It was emitting a high frequency infrasound that Bootsie could practically see but the humans were completely oblivious to. She couldn’t even tell if it was an animal or a machine. She wanted nothing more in the world then to be able to smell it and paw at it.   

“Here, I’ll give you the money. All my money. I got forty-three dollars left over from my birthday. You can have it!!” Tasha finally negotiated. 

“You know what? Imma buy myself a cheap bottle of wine and something chocolate.” Tasha’s mom thought to herself. “Fine, I’ll go. But I aint gettin’ that big bag. I’ll get that when we do groceries on Sunday after church.” She said as she lit a cigarette and started to head for the door. “What do you want for dinner? I ain’t cooking.” She then stopped to say, now a slight bit calmer. 

“I don’t care, mom. A rotisserie chicken.” Tasha replied, exasperated, as she handed her mom the money, clearly annoyed. 

“I’ll pay you back on Monday once my check gets deposited, okay?” Mom replied, her tone now much softer, her form of an apology. “Just drink a coke now or have a cereal bar or something for your blood sugar, okay baby?” She added as she clopped her high heels across the floor to the kitchen cupboard, and pulled out a cereal bar which she then handed to Tasha, who acquiesced to a nod and a half-smile despite being kind of annoyed. 

She put the cereal bar on the table next to the door where she was standing.  

That was when Bootsie noticed the two of them near the door, shuffling around. Jangling keys. 

In an instant, in that way that cats can sometimes move like lightning, Bootsie streaked across the floor and made a B-Line right for the door, unbeknownst to Tasha or her mom, who was now opening the door. 

It wasn’t until she streaked out and almost tripped her mother that Tasha noticed. In an instant she put two and two together and remembered seeing the cat looking out the window overlooking the back yard and figured that’s where she was running to. 

“I’ll get her. Just go” Tasha dismissively told her mother as she bolted towards the backyard. 

She made it just in time to see Bootsie slip through the tiny hole in the bottom of their tall wooden fence. “ARG!” she growled loudly in frustration as she realized that she couldn’t climb the fence and was going to have to go around. 

The fog was setting in. 

5. 

Once outside it only took Bootsie a matter of seconds to locate the thing she was watching in the back yard. 

From the smell and the way it moved she could immediately tell that it wasn’t alive. At least not in an edible way. It was more like a broken wind-up toy. 

Still, the way it sat on the wet grass, a million tiny components shifting and reconfiguring, dancing like a dead bird filled with carrion eating away at it’s innards, Bootsie couldn’t help but be curious.  

The thing itself was black and grey and no larger than a field mouse. It sounded like a million tiny grasshoppers inside of a cup. It had clusters of tiny red and white lights that didn’t stay in one place for more than a moment as it constantly shifted, unable to find it’s own correct shape. 

Bootsie approached the thing cautiously, stalking low to the ground until she was upon it. She reached out one of her front paws and swatted the thing. It jumped into the air an entire foot, with such force that it brought some dirt and blades of grass with it, which startled her and caused her to jump a little bit too. She recovered in an instant and was quick to follow it as it rolled away towards the fence. 

She didn’t want to lose the thing so she followed it as it rolled through a hole at the bottom of the fence that was just big enough for her to squeeze through. 

She managed to stay close behind as it rolled all the way up the sidewalk and into the street. Then a few feet more as it crossed the larger street (Blackstone boulevard, not that Bootsie had any idea that’s what it was called) and down the grassy area just next to the jogging path, always just a few inches away from Bootsie, and getting faster. 

By the time Bootsie began to really gain ground on the thing it had begun to get colder, windier. Snow had started to fall and the fog was so dense that she could only really vaguely smell Tasha somewhere behind far her down the jogging path now and definitely couldn’t see her. She couldn’t see the thing she was chasing either. She was now tracking it on sound alone. 

Still she persisted until finally managing to snap her tiny jaws around the thing. She kind of enjoyed the way it wiggled around in her mouth for a moment, each of its hundreds of thousands of tiny components trying to configure a way out of the cat’s mouth without hurting it. It made her think of grasshoppers and summer time. 

The thing itself had but one defense mechanism, which wasn’t really designed as such, but did manage to stun the cat for a mere moment, causing her to just hold the thing in between her teeth instead of playing with it or trying to break it open, which she was about to do. 

The infrasonic frequencies were becoming more and more intense. Bootsie’s tiny pink nose started to bleed a little bit as something inside the thing reached out and made contact with her mind. 

The contact was brief, lasting only a moment really, sharing only the tiniest glimpse of it’s origins to her. 

Bootsie saw the up above, outer space, and animals. Like humans, but different. Colder. Tall and dark grey and without any connection to the Earth. Fake humans. Inorganic But still appearing very much alive. Very much the same way the thing in her mouth was. Made of a ton of tiny parts, constantly in motion. Like a tightly knit hive of insects. 

They were inside of a carrier that was beyond the up above. Something happened to their carrier. Some kind of attack. There was another carrier behind them. 

Now there is a hole in the carrier. Critical damage. Cold reaction, instinctual but not natural. Too calm. They shifted. Moving in between the layers of the up above. The carrier begun healing itself, but slowly, and not before it was pushed outside of the waves of the layers in between the layers of the up above. Left behind in one of the other folds of the beyond, the aggressive carrier was now gone. 

They are above Earth now. Directly above. This thing was a part of the carrier. Something important. 

The images didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Bootsie. She didn’t really know what to do with the object she hunted and caught. She knew it belonged to the fake people in the up above but she didn’t know how to tell them she found it. It seemed important.

Her thoughts went to the smartest human she knew. Tasha. Her mother. Whenever there was food in places she couldn’t get to, hidden away behind doors, it was her mother who would give it to her. Her mother was the smartest. She could still smell her, not too far away. She would take the thing to her. Mother would know. 

6. 

Tasha’s mom actually found going to Stop and Shop at this time of night, 10:05pm to be exact, to be kind of relaxing. Her general annoyance at the situation faded away the moment she walked in and noticed that there were very few other customers there. She was able to grab what she came for and get to the check out in under fifteen minutes. She wasn’t rushing either.

The car ride home was nice too. It was getting cold so her thoughts turned to images of drinking her wine in the bathtub and having some of that king-sized Hershey bar she bought. 

She noticed the fog thickening as fat raindrops started to fall on the car. There were flashes of light just above the clouds that she assumed was lightning. Before she even thought to turn on the windshield wipers those raindrops were now turning into snow and multiplying. She glanced over at the umbrella on the floor of the passenger seat and felt a little bit of relief. She decided to give Tasha a call and tell her to open the door and help her with the bags. She forgot all about Bootsie getting out. 

She pulled the phone out of her purse as she started to get closer to their house and dialed her daughter. 

Straight to voicemail. 

She tried three more times. Same thing. 

She wasn’t the type to worry or jump to conclusions, some might say to a fault, so she naturally figured that Tasha’s phone was charging or something. 

Still, that “or something” was a lingering doubt in the back of her mind that struck like an angry drunkard when she pulled in to her driveway and saw the front door wide open. She let out an audible gasp as her heart sunk and her stomach began to flutter. 

She didn’t even bother grabbing the groceries or her umbrella as she ran through the door. 

That was when she looked down and noticed the uneaten cereal bar on the table. She frantically clopped over to the bathroom, then down the hall to the bedrooms, turning the lights in each room on to see if  by some chance maybe Tasha was home someplace asleep (or worse) but she wasn’t.   

In one final act of futility she called out her daughter’s name. “Tasha! You home?! TASHA!!”

The only reply she got was the wind banging at the open front door as it got even colder and wetter outside, which reminded her that Bootsie had gotten out and Tasha went out to find her. 

She tried to call Tasha’s phone again but the call wouldn’t go through, which she didn’t realize was happening until she stood there for over a minute with the phone stuck to her ear, her irritation levels rising along with her blood pressure. 

Finally she pulled the phone from her ear, saw that it was now 10:33pm and that she had no bars. She tried two more times, her hands now shaking with nervousness. The call finally did go through at 10:35 but it once again went straight to voicemail. 

She closed the door behind her as she clopped back down the front steps into the car. 

7. 

It didn’t take long for Bootsie to find Tasha, as the crisp cold air seemed to amplify her scent. 

She walked up to her human’s side, dropped the thing onto the ground, and then stood there, sitting on her hind legs, almost proudly. 

She let out an expectant meow and then waited a moment for some kind of response. 

She had dealt with sleeping humans before. She went up, stood in her lap, and rubbed her soft furry head into Tasha’s cheek, which was usually enough to wake her. 

Bootsie found the fact that it wasn’t this time to be quite distressing. She also noticed the shallow breathing and something else off. She could smell that something wasn’t right with Tasha’s body chemistry. 

Not really knowing what else to do she let out a couple more meows and started going between licking her face and nudging it with her nose. 

She wasn’t getting a reaction and noticed the breathing and heartbeat getting slower. She was starting to panic. 

She almost didn’t notice that someone was walking up to them. 

In her distress she assumed that it would be a person who could help. She turned to find that it wasn’t a person at all. It was one of those fake things. It looked strange to her. Very much like a person in that it had two legs it stood on and two appendages coming out of its thin, triangular chest but she regarded it as an object for it had no real organic scent to it. Clearly it was moving, functioning. She did not find it’s posture to be the least bit threatening, so she knew it wasn’t a predator. It wasn’t a person either. 

Still, it walked towards them, taking slow deliberate steps, only stopping when it noticed Bootsie looking directly into it’s one monochrome black-green eye, placed directly in the middle of it’s smooth triangular head.  

It sounded like the thing she had been chasing from the yard, like it was made up of a million moving parts, like an insect hive.

Still, it moved like a person so Bootsie meowed at it. 

It replied by taking a moment to scan her, making almost inaudible clicking sounds as it instantaneously processed every bit of biological data on Bootsie there was to be processed. It could see her down to a molecular level, taking note of things like the way the air moved around her, exactly what chemicals in her body were doing what, what synapses in her brain were firing and when and even why.  

It saw that Bootsie was an inconsequential creature and decided to pay her no mind as it knelt forward on it’s slender polygonal legs and reached one of it’s arms in the direction of the thing. 

Three cylindrical fingers protruded from the tip, which were forming into a grabbing claw, ready to swipe what it had come for, but Bootsie wouldn’t have it. Not yet. 

In a way that isn’t really quite like what we humans would really consider conscious, Bootsie thought to herself “Bipedal non-predator. Help” as she leapt in between the thing and the alien. 

The alien recoiled it’s fingers and took a step back, not wishing to incite any aggressive action from the animal. 

While not generally concerned with Bootsie, the alien’s general prerogative was to not harm anything on the planet they were visiting. Partially because it wasn’t it’s place and partially because it did not want to alert any of the more intelligent beings of this technologically burgeoning world to it’s presence. 

Bootsie realized that she had the alien’s attention. She saw the green circle in the center of it’s eye fixating on her. She carefully walked back over to Tasha and stood on her lap, nudging her head into her chin. She then looked up at the alien and let out a questioning mew. 

Just as it did with Bootsie, the alien collected data on Tasha, clicking briefly as it processed it. The alien was also able to immediately tell what was wrong with Tasha. 

It found it notable that this lesser life form was caring for the larger one. It almost admired it. 

Still crouching, the alien took another couple of very slow and deliberate steps closer to Tasha and then reached it’s arm out to press one of it’s fingers directly to Tasha’s forehead. 

With the shifting of a protein here, the activation of an enzyme there, through vibration and electrical field manipulation, it was a simple matter for the alien to shift Tasha’s blood sugar levels to where they needed to be for her to be okay. 

The alien then shifted it’s attention towards the thing it had come for and picked it up, which Bootsie intently watched from Tasha’s lap. 

The alien then stood completely up and faced away from the two of them, towards a narrow beam of light that appeared just in front of the hut. 

It took a few steps but then stopped for a moment just as it was upon the light. It looked down at the thing in its hand, an important component of its ship, and then turned around to face Bootsie. 

“MEOW” it said, robotically, in an attempt to approximate Bootsie’s tone. 

It then turned back towards the light and disappeared into it.  

8.

Tasha could feel Bootsie’s course tongue against her face before she even opened her eyes. For a moment it was nice. The feeling was fleeting. 

The moment she opened her eyes and realized where she was she almost began to panic. Then she realized that her mission to find Bootsie was somehow a success and the only real issue was getting in trouble for being out. 

“How long was I out? What time is it?!” She frantically wondered as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She remembered now that the last time she attempted to check the time her phone wasn’t working. 

She turned the phone on, not entirely sure how it got turned off in the first place, as the battery was at 68%. Immediately upon entering the home screen her phone rang. It was now 10:37pm. 

“Mom?” She weakly said into the phone. 

“Oh my God, Tasha, Where are you?!” her mom frantically demanded. 

“I got Bootsie. I’m over here in the Blair Witch Hut” she replied as she stood up, cradling Bootsie against her chest with one hand, the phone to her ear with the other. 

“Bootsie?” she replied, taking a moment to remember the whole thing with the cat getting out. “Oh, okay. I’ll be there in a minute” she then said as they hung up. 

Seconds later she arrived, pulling up on the side of the grass just next to where the hut meets the jogging path. 

Tasha opened the passenger door, and got in, still moving very weakly, recovering from her little nap. 

“Are you okay?? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” Her mom asked, now more concerned than angry. 

“I don’t know. It wasn’t working. Yeah, I’m fine. I guess” Tasha replied as she put on her seatbelt but kept Bootsie on her lap. The warm air from the heater felt nice. 

“So, what happened?” 

“I don’t really know. It got really cold and I guess I sat down for a second in the hut to get out of the rain and then…I woke up and Bootsie was there.” 

“Well, you didn’t eat your cereal bar like you was supposed to so you probably had an attack. You’re lucky I found you.” she lectured. 

“If I had an attack, then what woke me up? I don’t feel like I had an attack. I usually feel it for a while after. I feel completely fine now. Just groggy.” 

“We can test your blood sugar when we get home. You scared me, girl. You need to be more careful.” 

“I see you got catfood.” Tasha said as she turned to look behind her and saw the bag.  

They arrived back home a few moments later and the first thing Tasha’s mom insisted upon doing was test Tasha’s blood sugar. It was surprisingly right where it should be. She took a mental note to make an appointment to see her doctor about it as she sent her out to bring in the groceries. 

They enjoyed dinner together, even sharing some of the chicken with Bootsie. 

Tasha’s mom even got to pop open her bottle of wine and enjoy that bath she was hoping for. 

Tasha fell asleep on the living room couch with Bootsie on her lap, purring. 

The aliens managed to get their ship repaired and were able to shift out of our neck of the woods before their enemies could track them to Earth. 

Epilogue:

Early the next morning an old man who lived off of the Blackstone Blvd jogging path put on his New England Patriots jacket and sweatpants and went for his morning walk. 

He noticed a pair of glasses lying on the soggy grass off to the side of the path and knelt down to pick them up. 

He shrugged and held on to them as he approached the bench about three quarters of the way up the path with the little black box on it labeled “Lost and found”. He carefully opened the lid and dropped the glasses inside.