Chapter 2: Salem
Her keys clattered as she swung the door open into her apartment. "Salem, I'm home." She called out as she hung her bag and keys on their designated hooks. The hall way leading into her living space was tidy and organized. All her things in this area had a place. A reason for being.
She flipped on the light in her living room. Unlike the hallway, her living room was a war zone. She was surrounded by books, boxes, and files that had been scattered all over. It often reminded her of the offices in crime shows. The chaos as they were searching for their suspect. This is what decades of research does to someone. Clutter as far as the eye can see. She sighed, staring at the overwhelming mess. She felt soft fur against her barefoot followed by soft purring.
"Hey." She whispered as she crouched down and stroked the ink colored cat she shared her massive apartment with. Her only companion. She came across him two years ago when she first moved to the DC area. She scratched under his chin and he melted into her hand. "Come along, let's get some dinner." She hummed as she hoisted the cat into her arms. He nuzzled against her chest as she wandered into their kitchen. She had many cats in her time, but Salem was so far the best.
~It's too bad he would never live as long as me.~ She thought while reaching for the can of wet food in the cupboard. She drifted off into her memories, recalling the night she met Salem as she scooped the cat food into a dish.
She found him on a cold winter night. The snow was flying around as she shuffled down the street. It was the winter solstice and Christmas was only a few days away. The twinkling lights made the disgustingly grey city seem almost attractive. Almost magical. She cherished the thought of Christmas, although hers were always spent alone. She could still appreciate the feelings it brought to people. She never stayed in one place long enough to build up any sort of family or friends. She was a ghost, a memory that had made its way out of a person's mind before too long. She passed a shop filled with people finishing last minute Christmas purchases when she heard a tiny, pathetic noise. She had almost missed the soft mew. It sounded so weak, barely clinging to life. She turned and saw a small black mound of dirty, iced over fur. The noise repeated as the little black ball opened big bright eyes the color of a harvest moon and blinked at her slowly. The poor thing seemed to be moments from death. She took off her scarf and scooped the kitten out of the cold, dirty slush, wrapping it tightly before standing and continuing home. The first couple days seemed questionable. She wasn't sure the kitten would live and avoided naming him. Not wanting to become attached. By Christmas he improved and she gifted him with the name Salem. For the first time in a few decades she had someone to welcome her home and she remembered how nice it was to be expected by someone.
"It's a good thing I found you," She said softly to the now fully-grown cat, "You would have frozen to death." Salem purred on her lap as they now sat in the arm chair, by a warm fire, with a hot cup of tea on the table next to them. "But I think it's even better that you found me."
It had been thirty years since her last cat passed on. She never sought them out. Never looked for them purposefully, she only took them in when they found her. She knew that cats hated moving and sometimes she was required to move a lot. She never felt that it was fair to them. It also helped shield her from pain. Pets already lead shorter lives than people with Seventy to Ninety year life spans, let alone someone who has lived over three hundred years. She scratched him behind his ears. "You are such a good kitty." She cooed. She glanced at the book she had set on the arm rest of the chair and the paper she had found along with it. "What do you think Salem, should I message the mysterious and elusive Tom?" Salem kept purring, surely sound asleep by now. She sighed deeply before reaching for her phone and typing a casual message to this man who was clearly up to something.
{This is Madison from the Coffee shop on 10th. I found your book in our lobby.}
"What's the worst that could happen?" She muttered as she laid her hand on the dusty book. She stared hard at the dirty cover, perhaps she was imagining things, but the book felt ice cold. Sitting as close the the fire place as she was it shouldn't have been freezing. She flipped open the cover and turned the pages. "What the fuck." She gasped lightly as she made the strange realization that the pages were completely blank. They were old, stained with age but entirely blank. As she was examining the book from cover to cover her phone chimed and the screen lit up.
[I know very well who you are. You never answered my question dear. Dinner, you and me?]
She stared at the message, her face flushed in irritation, "Bastard." She muffed. Her response was interrupted by the chime of another message.
[The night is still young. You could meet me at Tulip's. I do miss my book that I left behind and would be so grateful if you could return it to me. What else is there to do, Spend the night in with your cat?]
She stared blankly at the message.
{How did you know I have a cat?}
She typed furiously, glaring at the screen as they bantered back and forth with one another.
[I just assumed… you seem like the type.]
{YOU have no idea what type I am, Tom.}
[Well why don't you come show me then?]
With that message she stood up and sat Salem down in her chair. Marching to her bed room with determination as she put on a red sweater dress and black leggings. "I'll be back later Salem," She explained as she slipped on her boots. "I have to go punch a pretty boy." The cat stared at her as she as she grabbed her scarf, and bag while slipping out the door, locking it behind her. She pulled out her phone and sent a single message…
{On my way.}
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