500: An Anthology of Short Stories

I was pleased to see Cleo waiting patiently for me at our usual spot. I grinned arrogantly at her as I approached.

“Ah, so you’re early, for a change,” I commented.

“I managed to sneak out earlier than usual tonight, Aslan,” she explained, making a point of sashaying provocatively before me, knowing how intensely that gait affected me. I involuntarily vocalized a growl deep in the back of my throat. Turning her golden-eyed gaze upon me, Cleo laughed merrily at my discomfort.

“Easy, tiger,” she teased. “We still have the whole night for serenading.”

“Yeah, but you know I struggle to resist you when you signal this overtly, so indiscreetly,” I tried to excuse my momentary lapse in control. To disguise my chagrin, I threw myself down on a soft spot next to Cleo. Mind, I wasn’t splayed out, with my limbs helter-skelter; no, I simply loafed expertly.

“Aslan! Cleo!”

It was the third member of our trio, Bubba, hailing us loudly in his distinctive baritone. He had no sense of stealth or decorum. He was also always on a diet, on which he predictably cheated. I would never say it to his face, but he was a real chonk. Bubba waddled over to us as quickly as he could, which meant he reached us four minutes later.

“Guys, what a perfect night!” Bubba enthused, gazing moon-eyed up at the dark expanse, at the celestial orb shining in full glory. Shivers of pleasure rippled throughout my short body, causing me to stretch leisurely before rising to my feet.

“Perfect indeed,” I agreed. “Shall we begin then?”

“Sure, why not?” Cleo said as I spied two figures rounding the corner of the building where we had gathered. Upon seeing us, both froze in their tracks; then they strode insolently forward, hackles raised, gazes filled with menace.

“Oh, no. It’s Luka and Garv,” Bubba whined. Before I could even try to persuade him to stand his ground, he turned tail and fled as fast as his chubby body would allow him to zoom off. By then, the two feral felons had reached Cleo and me. We made guttural noises at each other, unwilling to resort to civilized speech.

In a flash of slashing nails and biting teeth, Cleo was on Garv; both thumped to the ground in a whirl of indistinguishable limbs. I swear I could see what resembled bits of fluff flying from the two combatants. Luka launched himself at me, his face contorted in a devilish snarl. Nimbly, I dodged his grasp, landing hard on his back, effectively pinning him to the earth. He yowled and screeched loudly, shattering the peace of the night.

Immediately, the neighborhood erupted in a bedlam of irritated shouts and cussing. A boot flung with eerie accuracy hit Luka on the head. Simultaneously, a rotten tomato splashed all over Cleo’s torso. The fights ended unceremoniously as we all skedaddled home.

Damn chonky Bubba had jinxed the night with his premature declaration of it being perfect.