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One step, another step, hop. One step, another step, hop. Jack lets himself bounce down the darkening streets, arms spread out to balance. One step, another step, hop! No one else is around to see his Weird behavior and ridicule him for it, or give thinly veiled insults about his intelligence. The insults always confuse him. Why do people think he’s stupid, just because he can’t understand faces sometimes, or because he likes to hop and jump and feel weightless, even if only for a moment?
He’d been upset earlier, because his bike had broke and now he can’t use it until it’s fixed tomorrow. He’s surprised to find that it’s a nice little change in routine, to walk on his own two feet while lighting the lamps. He can’t do this every day, of course. But it’s still nice. One step, another step, hop. He can’t hop when he’s on his bike, so this is nice. Very nice. Nice, nice, nice.
Jack hums a made-up tune as he walk-skip-hops underneath the glowing street lamps. They flicker happily as he passes, and he smiles at them. Most people don’t understand why he does it. Lamps can’t talk, they say. Fire can’t communicate. Oh, if they knew how wrong they were. One step, another step, hop. It feels like he’s floating in space. Where he always wishes to be. One step, another step, hop.
One step, another step— meow!
Wait a minute.
He stops moving, which makes him suddenly aware of how cold the night is. He shivers, wiggles his fingers, and tries to focus on the sound. Meow! There it is again, piercing through the silence. Somewhere nearby? His head automatically turns to an alley across the street and his feet carry him there, except this time he restrains himself from hopping.
Meow!
Jack spots a bundle of blankets and he gets a tingly feeling in the back of his mind. He kneels down next to it.
“Oh, hey there, lil’ guy,” he whispers in a baby-voice. A tiny, jet-black kitten is curled up in the dirty mess of fabric. It’s shaking and making little whining noises in between meows. “Are you lost?”
Mew...
“I’m so sorry,” he says, face screwed up in empathy. This small baby kitten is Not-Happy and that makes Jack Not-Happy. “I’m glad I heard you. You’re loud, y’know that? Could hear you callin’ for help all the way ‘cross the street.”
Mew!
“It’s not an insult!” he says. “I’m here now ‘cause of it, aren’t I? Now, c’mon, get up an’ I’ll lead you back to my place. I’ve got no other pets, so there’s no worry. Anyway, c’mon!”
Meow.
“You can’t get up?” he asks. Then he realizes that it’s barely moved throughout their entire conversation. “Are you sick?”
Mew.
“Oh... Here, lemme see.”
The kitten shakily sits up. Jack reaches over and runs a gentle hand down its left side. It purrs and leans into his touch, but he notices what it told him. The kitten’s left foreleg is gone— most likely it was born without one.
“Alright, let me carry you then, lil’ fella,” he says, holding out two cupped hands. The kitten clambers into his palms.
Meow!
“Sorry. Lil’ lady,” Jack corrects himself, and swears he sees the kitten give a small nod. “Hey, do you have a name?”
Mew.
“No? Hm...” He immediately feels a word sparkling on the tip of his tongue, like it’s Meant To Be. There’s not many things that are Meant To Be. He pauses, letting the word swirl around his mouth for a moment. “How about... Amelia?”
The kitten gives a long, contented purr, and snuggles into his hands.
“Okay, Amelia. Let’s get you home.”
He cradles her close to his chest and walks home carefully. One step, another step, but no hop.
~
“I can’t believe you.”
“C’mon, Angus, she was so cold! She was shiverin’ so much, an’ she was so lonely! She’s got no home!”
Angus sighs, hands on his hips. It’s not like he has anything against having a pet. But a part of him feels like Jack didn’t think this through. At all.
“You’ve named her already, haven’t you?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Jack gives a shy nod.
“Her name’s Amelia,” he whispers, using his thumb to pet her head. She’s asleep, curled up so tight in his hands.
“Aw, he’s got that look in his eyes,” Charles says from behind Angus.
“Yeah, like he’s about to cry,” Angus says, chuckling.
“I’m not!” Jack argues, not taking his eyes off Amelia. He sniffles.
“Okay, cat-savior, we can make a spot for it to sleep and then me an’ Charles are gonna head to bed.”
“She can sleep with me,” Jack says, sounding completely serious.
A few minutes later, he’s curled up in bed, gripping his hat with Amelia sitting near his arm. She nuzzles his hand and he flips his hat upside-down so she can lay down inside it.
“You’re just the cutest thing,” he whispers. “You’re safe with me, promise.”
He falls asleep shortly after, one hand curled around her as both of their chests slowly rise and fall.
~
Around a week later, Jack is sitting at one end of the living room, his back against the couch. Amelia sits at the other end of the room, tail swishing.
“C’mon, Amelia, I believe in you!” Jack says excitedly. She peers at him with yellow-green eyes and her ear twitches. “C’mere, come to Jackie!”
She stands up, swaying. She stiffly moves one paw forward and then another, and then does a sort of jump until she’s slightly closer to him.
“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna cry,” he says, ignoring the fact that his eyes are already teary.
Amelia continues, slowly but surely making her way towards him. One step, another step, hop. She falls, but it’s into Jack’s hands, and he cradles her close to his chest, pretending like he’s not outright sobbing at this point.
Meow.
“Yeah? I love you, too.”