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Toby had a good life. His human was exceptionally well-mannered, knew just which bit behind Toby’s left ear was the best spot for a bit of a scratch and even if Toby sometimes had to endure hours and hours of brightly coloured young humans singing and dancing inside the pleasantly warm box he preferred to sleep on, it was all worth it, in the end. (And if the singing and dancing did became unbearable, which it often did, Toby would give a loud demonstration of what singing should sound like, and his human would soon take the hint and put away the brightly coloured young humans inside the box.)
Toby had a comfortable sofa, regular meals and a human who, if Toby didn’t know any better, may have actually spoken his language. If Toby ever met other cats, they would surely be jealous of his well-trained human.
-
On an early summer evening, one of Toby’s favourites, the setting sun cast a delightful warm spot on the floor of Toby’s home, Toby was stretched out on the carpet, lying on his back, enjoying the warmth tickling the hairs on his belly.
The door opened.
His human stepped in.
She was not alone.
There was another human. A tall human. A very, very tall human. Definitely taller than the other one she had brought over a while ago. Toby hoped this one wouldn’t insist on petting his belly. That one hadn’t ended well for anyone involved.
Who is this? What is he doing in my house? Toby enquired.
Toby’s human exchanged words with the tall individual, her voice strained and unfamiliar. Toby jogged over to her and rubbed his head against her shins. For a moment he wondered if he’d turned invisible.
This was unheard of.
Toby placed himself on the floor between the two humans, the taller of which was currently hanging his coat while Toby’s human hugged her arms around herself and looked at her feet.
Could someone, please, explain? Toby demanded, tone bordering on hysterical.
There were now two humans looking down at him. The other one from much higher up than the other.
‘Oh, sorry,’ Toby’s human said and picked him up. She cradled him in her arms, one hand gently rubbing his chest. ‘Toby, this is Sherlock,’ she said and lifted him a bit higher, ‘Be nice.’
Toby regarded the tall human (Sherlock, apparently; what an awfully nondescript name) through squinted eyes. The tall human gave him a withering look. He then gave one to Toby’s human. Toby was really rather offended. He voiced his disappointment with a hiss.
‘Sorry, he’s not very good with strangers,’ Toby’s human said.
Obviously, Toby said.
‘Obviously,’ the tall human said.
Toby was set back on the floor while his human went off with the tall one, making nervous conversation and giggly noises. The tall human didn’t have much to say. He then sat on Toby’s sofa, like he had every right to.
Toby huffed in disapproval and jumped to sit on a window sill, hidden behind a sheer curtain. His human made tea for the stranger and forgot to feed Toby.
So this is how it’s going to be, Toby mused and watched a feral pigeon fly by with a soggy croissant.
-
The tall human persistently remained on Toby’s sofa. Toby had not yet seen him sleep, which was unfortunate. He had planned on inspecting the human a bit closer once he fell unconscious, and not having a chance to do so meant Toby had no data whatsoever on this strangely tall creature.
Toby’s human had finally remembered to serve him dinner, but only after Toby had followed her around the house, reminding her quite loudly of the issue at hand. She had also served him a very satisfying breakfast the following morning.
She left the house for the regular amounts of time and returned exactly on schedule, as usual. But instead of getting to spend his days in blissful silence, watching the events outside the windows and basking in warm spots on the floor, Toby was left to look after a strange, tall human who was clearly not tame and had no idea how to take care of himself. Toby often found himself wondering how the tall human had survived into adulthood at all. Perhaps he had had someone take care of him, before. Why he was left on his own now remained a mystery.
On the third day of babysitting an inept human, Toby decided it was time to lay down some ground rules. He approached the human (currently sprawled on the sofa in a way that looked so incredibly comfortable Toby was almost envious), tail gently swaying, and leapt on the low table beside the sofa. He sat down.
The human made no sign of acknowledging him.
Listen, Toby said. The human didn’t reply.
Don’t ignore me, he demanded. Then he remembered being told to be nice. Please?
The human remained silent, eyes fixed on the apparatus on his lap, fingers tapping against plastic.
We need to talk, Toby tried, and remained unnoticed.
Fine, he said and jumped on the human’s lap, on top of the (warm! he noted with glee) folded plastic object.
The human shouted, scrambled up from the sofa and threw both the (warm!) plastic object and Toby off his lap in the process. Toby screamed and dashed off into the kitchen, where he hid under a chair.
When he peered at the human from his hideout, he saw a displeased glare fixed his way.
Right, Toby decided, wrong kind of approach.
-
Toby’s human was sat on a chair close to the sofa, and was watching the brightly coloured young humans who still had not been informed of their inability to produce pleasant sounds. The tall human was (still!) on the sofa, a different folded (warm!) plastic object on his lap and clearly distracted by the noises of the colourful humans.
Toby’s human giggled at something, glimmering eyes fixed on the box the young humans lived in. The tall human rolled his eyes and made a huffing noise. Toby’s human suddenly looked embarrassed.
‘Sorry, it’s a bit silly, isn’t it?’ she said, looked at the box and choked back another sudden giggle. ‘But it’s one of the highlights if my week,’ she added.
‘You don’t lead a very exciting life, Molly Hooper,’ the tall human noted, eyes never leaving the (warm!) machine on his lap.
‘Well, I am surrounded by dead people,’ she said, smiling a little. ‘Some might say that’s exciting.’
The tall human gave her a very slow, very strange look.
Toby was very confused.
-
The next day, when Toby’s human came back from her daily adventure, she was awfully quiet. Pensive, Toby decided. She hung her coat and came to stand by the sofa the tall human was lounging on.
Toby now knew the tall human moved when Toby was otherwise distracted; not two hours ago he had been observing a particularly interesting spider constructing a web by the window, when he’d suddenly heard the tall human sit back down on the sofa. Toby had never heard him get up.
‘Yes?’ the tall human said, startling Toby’s human, who then made a meek, almost whimpering sound.
‘I, um,’ she said and looked at her shoes. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. ‘I saw John. Today. On the Tube.’
The tall human stared ahead and said nothing. Toby’s human said nothing. The conversation was obviously going nowhere.
I’m hungry, Toby said and no one listened to him.
-
‘I can’t do anything about it. I wouldn’t ask if I could.’
The tall human was talking into his hand, very demanding and clearly cross. Had he had the vocabulary, he would possibly have hissed, Toby noted.
While talking, the tall human paced back and forth, circling the table by the sofa and occasionally drifting into the kitchen. Toby was observing his movements, sat on top of an open bathroom door. It was one of the best spots in the house. He could see everything from there.
The most curious thing right now: the tall human was moving. He’d hardly sprawled on the sofa at all, today. Toby was taking notes and secretly hoping he might have the best spot in the house back to himself, soon.
‘Just,’ the tall human said, leaning against a window sill. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Make sure he’s safe.’ The last word was spoken so softly Toby barely heard it.
It was very quiet for a long while.
‘I’ll send you a cake from Vienna,’ the tall human finally said, spiteful, and lowered his hand from his ear.
Toby leapt down, crossed the room and got up onto the window sill. He then softly butted his head against the tall human’s arm.
I’m hungry, he said.
The tall human looked at him, confused, and poked at Toby’s head behind his ear. He might have been going for a scratch. He had much to learn, still.
Toby rolled his eyes and went to look for scraps on the kitchen floor.
-
‘Already?’ Toby’s human sounded distressed. She was talking to the tall human in the kitchen, while making tea. She handed him a steaming mug and he took it.
‘I was supposed to go days ago. Mycroft was deliberately slow with the paper work,’ the tall human said and took a sip of his tea. He then made an odd sort of face and set the mug down.
‘Are you sure it’s… okay?’ Toby’s human said, concern on her face. She only ever made that face when Toby woke her up to inform her of suspicious shadows on the walls in the early hours of the morning. It was usually followed by frustrated growl and an order to go back to sleep.
The tall human looked at her in a way that Toby had learned to interpret as ‘you’re an idiot and I don’t understand why I put up with you’. He used the look rather a lot. He then reached for a bowl of sugar and added two spoonfuls into his tea. Toby was never allowed to touch the bowl of sugar.
‘Sorry,’ Toby’s human said, ‘it’s just. It’s been.’ She covered her mouth with her hand, frowned and looked away. ‘Nevermind. Sorry.’
The tall human took a sip of his tea and made a different kind of face. This one looked much less disturbed than the previous one.
Toby had leapt onto the counter and leaned in to sniff the bowl of sugar.
Both humans were silent and Toby reached in to taste the sugar. He licked his lips, delighted.
Then his human happened to look his way, yelled a little and shooed him from the kitchen.
-
The tall human left when Toby’s human had gone to sleep. Toby felt it was his duty to see the stranger off.
You won’t last a minute out there, he told the tall human who, surprisingly, turned around to look at him. Just so you know. You can’t even feed yourself. You need someone to look after you.
The human had a curiously defensive look on his face.
I know you think you’ll be fine but you’re stupid and you won’t. Just putting it out there, Toby told him. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The human now looked very, very pensive. Humans often looked like that when he talked to them, Toby had noticed.
‘I’m not talking to a cat,’ the human said.
Yes you are. See? Like I said: stupid, Toby replied.
Suddenly the human picked him up and held him at an arms length from his face. Toby looked at him and the human returned his look. Toby then swatted a paw at the human and got his claws stuck on a bit of fabric around the human’s neck.
Let go of me, Toby demanded and, quite surprisingly, the human did. He also unwrapped the bit of fabric from around his neck and handed it to Toby.
Toby looked up at the human, who looked down at him. The human dropped the fabric on the floor and left, a puzzled look on his face.
Toby sat there, by the door, a bit of blue fabric at his feet, utterly, thoroughly confused. He then picked up the tall human’s strange gift, took it up to the sofa, arranged the fabric into a comfortable bed and took a nap.
-
(Toby’s human found the bit of fabric, now wildly improved by bits of gray and white hairs and the occasional dust bunny, some weeks later from under the sofa and burst into tears.
Toby was more and more convinced that humans made no sense whatsoever.)