The Nine Lives of the White Spotted Cat, Book 1

In 1919, a black kitten with a white spot on his flank was born near a small town. A year after his death, a cat who looked almost exactly the same was born, and a year after his death yet another cat was found. This happened nine times. Was it one cat, living out nine lives? Or nine separate cats? Could it be proof that cats really do have nine lives? It all started in 1919...

Puma had a mostly normal life at first as a kitten. His mother taught him and his sister to hunt and climb trees, just like any other cat. But his life is shaken when a mysterious white cat from his mother's past begins stalking his family, appearing everywhere like a ghost. Puma seems to be the only one to notice. Why won't this cat leave them alone? And what happens when he finally attacks?


13. The Fistfight

Puma’s opportunity of escape came sooner than he expected. It was the day after he first arrived. The rest of the previous day had been mostly uneventful after he had left the boy, consisting of eating some more and then sleeping that night. He had been lounging in a chair in the front room when he saw the oldest brother, whose name was George, walking toward the door. He leapt out of the chair and got closer until the boy opened the door, and Puma dashed out as fast as he could, running right over the George’s feet.

    FREEDOM! He had no idea where he was or which way to go, just as far away from there as possible. But something he saw made him stop. The girl, whose name was Rebecca, stood a few feet away from the second youngest boy, whose name was Peter. The way they stared at each other, muscles tense, told Puma that something was about to happen. Whatever it was, he wanted to see it and he stopped. George stopped to watch as well, with the youngest of the boys, Jim, at his side.

    Rebecca lashed out with a fist and punched Pete in the chest. Taken off balance, he stepped back and returned a punch at the girl, pushing her to the ground. Puma watched with interest as she immediately stood back up again. Just like Rain. He felt sadness as he remembered his sister. But what he saw next startled him. The girl hit back harder, pummeling her considerably taller brother until he fell to the ground, and they wrestled for awhile. The girl was starting to remind him less and less of Rain. Try as the boy might, his sister was obviously winning.

    “Yeah! Go Becca!” George cheered.

“Come on, Pete!” Jim yelled. “You’re getting beat by a girl! Be a man!”

Puma was so wrapped up in watching them that he didn’t even notice that the childrens’ mother had come outside until he saw her grab the girl by the waist and pull her off of her brother. Her dress was ruffled and dirty. The woman spanked Rebecca several times. “You have to stop this!” She scolded. “You’re old enough to know better!”

    “Why don’t you spank Pete, too?” Rebecca asked. “He’s even older than me, and he was just as much a part of this as I was!”

    “Because you are a lady!” Her mother replied. “And it’s time you started acting like one!” Smoothing her dress, she walked away and went back inside. Jim stuck his tongue out at Becca and followed his mother inside.

    After the door slammed behind them, Pete spoke: “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!”

    “You were always the most fun to fistfight with,” George. “Not so easy to beat, like Peter and Jim.”

    Peter ignored his comment. “I’m gonna miss it,” he said.

    “Miss it?” Rebecca said. “We don’t have to do what she says. We just fight when she’s not watching, and we’ll be fine.”

    “Fat chance,” Pete said. “That woman has eyes in the back of her head. It doesn’t  matter if it looks like she’s watching. She’ll know.”

    At this point Puma had completely forgotten about his escape plan. He didn’t understand what was happening. Why had the girl been punished, and not the boy? Perhaps because she’d won? In his family, he nor Rain would have ever been punished for winning a playfight. The winner was more likely to be congratulated or rewarded. It didn’t make sense to him that it would be because she was a girl, either. For cats, male or female didn’t matter; they all should know how to fight and protect themselves well. An attacking cat wouldn’t discriminate against genders.

    As Puma was thinking about this, the boys were leaving, going off somewhere else. Before he thought to run away, Rebecca had picked him up. She carried him back inside, shut the door and placed him gently on the floor. His first chance of freedom was gone.


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