Amber Eyes

By Hannah Muldery

Golden eyes arrested my attention as I boarded the train. Her every movement was graceful—gray paws swinging her suitcase, ears peeking through the top of her hat, eyes sparkling in the waning sunlight.

Then she tripped. And laughed to herself.

“Miss,” I called out as the whistle tweeted and the train whisked me away. My paw stretched after her, then fell to my side, my heart as forlorn as an abandoned kitten. The excitement over my solo adventure shifted into a yearning to meet her.

Today, like the last several days, I took a cab to Chesterton Station. It was ridiculous to think that I might spot her. But still, a cat could hope.

My paw rested on the windowsill, gray fur glistening in the noon sun. My suit coat sat snug on my shoulders, brushed to perfection, and the freshly tailored top hat rested upon my head just so. My ears, poking out through the brim, twitched as I adjusted it.

Several weeks had passed since I’d glimpsed the lovely lady. What if I actually spotted her today? What if she spotted me? I settled my top hat again. I couldn’t bear a classy feline like her thinking I was some country bumpkin.

Even if that’s exactly what I was.

With my night job as a watch-cat ending and my day job at Mr. Millner’s Grocer beginning, if I didn’t run into her today… My heart sank.

The cab rattled to a stop at the station.

“Thanks for the lift.” I tipped the cabbie, hopefully well enough, as I shut the door. And I almost tripped on my own paws as a cycling kitten flew by. A flaming red tabby at the ticket booth roared for the kitten to scat, but he’d already vanished in the hubbub of Chesterton Station. I straightened and tugged at my coat.

This is why I prefer my quiet little town of Catford with my peaceful catnip garden.

A heavy-set ragdoll tom, his fine suit fit to bursting, sauntered past, followed by several attendants pushing teetering carts stacked with suitcases. A Persian, her long ginger fur sticking out from underneath trim sleeves and a wide brimmed hat, ushered her six kittens into the waiting train, each one a frizzy bit of ginger clad in a little navy blue sailor outfit. A Manx, dark with white accents, took the arm of his Russian Blue lady friend.

My heart struck my chest like a mouse against its cage.

That charcoal feline… Was she the one I sought?

With a soft laugh, she swung my direction, the brim of her bird’s nest hat lifting just above her eyes.

My heart skipped, then sank. She didn’t have the golden eyes or the liveliness of the feline who’d captured my affection.

A tuxedoed tomcat swept by, brushing my shoulder. I shrank back, tugging my hat lower over my eyes.

I don’t belong here with all these cultured cats. Why am I searching for a fine feline I’ve only caught a glimpse of?

The last passenger leapt aboard the train as it swept out of the station with a roar.

Just like it had swept me away from her… whoever she was.

With a sigh, I slunk toward the single bench facing the tracks.

I sat, folded my paws, and waited.

And waited.

Passengers scurried by.

Several more trains passed through. My stomach growled, loud enough that travelers glanced my way.

But none of them had the glimmer that only her golden eyes held.

I stood and stretched, arching my back. The sun sank low, a glowing ball teasing me with the time. It’d been worth the risk—and possible embarrassment—to give up my last few free days to spot her. Perhaps it was best I hadn’t met her. She could be a snob. Could have been traveling to meet her beau. I stroked the suit. Back in my closet it would go.

I swept the station with one last gaze, but to no avail. If I left now, I’d make it home in time to cook up dinner and walk to my night shift.

Something shiny caught my eye. A coin, hidden beside one of the bench legs.

I had just enough money for a cab, but the coin could buy dinner at the station and end my venture with a treat.

I snatched it up and ambled around the food window. The blackboard menu of meat pies stood out. Which to choose? I always enjoyed mouser’s pie. And my homemade pheasant pie. But the crow pie… I’d never eaten crow before.

“Can I help you?” The attendant asked.

My eyes darted between the menu items. Something old, or something new…

I handed her the coin. “I’ll have the crow pie.”

She looked up from under her cap. Those sparkling eyes, mirrored by her bright smile.

My heart choked off my throat.

She turned to grab the pie. “Are you embarking on an adventure or returning home?”

“I…” My heart scrambled to escape further up my throat. “That is…”

“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me.” Her eyes softened, filling my heart with hope. Before, I’d seen her in travel finery. But her simple blue uniform only heightened her beauty. Perhaps she wasn’t a snobby city feline as I’d feared.

“I just love traveling.” She waved her silver paws as she spoke. “I haven’t traveled much, only around the country and to my new job here, but it’s delightful. Oh, here I am rambling. You must have a train to catch.”

“No, ma’am,” I swallowed. “Only a cab back home.”

She handed me the crow pie, neatly tucked into a brown bag. “Next time, you should try the pheasant pie. It’s delicious.” Her eyes twinkled.

I nodded. Then, before I could stop myself, I stuck my paw out. “I’m Alex. Alex Longfoot.”

She reached past the crow pie still in my grasp and gripped my forearm. “Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Amber. See you next time.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hannah Muldery has always loved escaping into stories. Her favorite book is a toss up between Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island or Kidnapped. She spends her time as a freelance artist painting geeky artwork and working on an adventure novel who’s main character struggles with anxiety. When not creating, Hannah can be found watching Star Wars with her hubby and two cats.

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