Chores and Bouncy Cats

Another day in the life of Maxine. She has the luck of the Irish. Specifically, bad luck.

Maxine groaned in agony. Her feet hurt, she was due at work soon, and the only thing standing between all her earthly possessions and a thief was the bat-eared cat standing on her suitcase. She did not want to be following around an anxious landlord, her fourth of the morning, begging him to let her have a place that would shelter her from all the things that go bump in the night. But that's what she found herself doing.

"Come on, Mike," Maxine kept pace behind a tall, dark-haired man as he hiked back to the apartment in the neighborhood that served as his office. "I'm good for the money. I mean, I don't have a deposit or references, but I also don't have a criminal record! I'm a clean person, honest! No drugs, either! Not even alcohol! I'm a totally boring prude! See? Look at my face? Isn't this the face of a really boring person?"

The man turned around, his wrinkled eyes filled with annoyance. Despite being only middle aged, bits of grey popped up in his hair here and there. Maxine reckoned it was because of all the stress he put his would-be tenants through.

"Miss Huff, I have the same standards for all potential tenants in my apartment buildings," he said, jabbing a finger at the rest of the cozy neighborhood. "Three references, a good credit score, and two months rent up front. Now tell me, what exactly makes you so special?"

Maxine paused, stared at the ground for a second, and bit her lip. "I'm adorable?"

Mike rolled his eyes and turned back around. He stepped onto the little porch of the office and pulled out his key to unlock it for the day.

"Now wait, just hold on a minute...if you don't let me stay here...I'll stay in your office until you change your mind!"

"Miss Huff, that is the exact reason that we keep the office door locked in the evenings." Mike inserted the key and turned it. "And we can always call the police."

"Okay fine, I won't do that, but only because I can't! I have a job! Totally! I work over at the Kitty Burger Cafe, and it's going to open in a couple of days from now! You can have my first checks. I get free food at work, and I can live a month without electricity, so that's a big profit on your end, you know what I'm saying?" Maxine did a pathetic attempt at some Bambi eyes, except by that point Mike had already opened the door and was about to step inside. "Uh, do you like cats? We have lots of cute cats at the cafe! If you ask me really nicely, I can let you come in and pet the cats before we open. And dude, I'm telling you we have a pretty huge cat, and she is real fuzzy, and the absolute best to pet. Seriously, she's like the cat everyone wishes they had. So what do you say? Huh?"

By this time, Mike the landlord had already entered the doorway, and his hand was on the doorknob.

"Dogs are better than cats!" He snapped.

And he shut the door in Maxine's face.

***

The Kitty Burger was cleaner than it had ever been. The dining area's surfaces were swept and wiped to the point where one might see one's own face reflected from any number of surfaces: floor, tables, ceiling, ceiling lamp, chairs, and all the screws holding the chairs together. This kaleidescope of humanity had only two to pick from at the moment. At the front counter, an always smiling Pocki sat while a dark and portly gentleman in a grey uniform sorted through various papers. On one side of his chest was pinned a silver badge, and on other other a name tag sported the word "Andre." This man rubbed his long mustache and nodded to himself.

"Well, Mr. Joblin, it looks like all your papers are in order," Andre said. "I think you're all good to open. Well, except it looks like there's one more form we need to consider. This is a cat cafe, and one can never be too safe."

Despite Pocki's still grinning face, a brief wince passed through it like a ripple through a normally serene lake. Mitzy, from down at his feet, hopped up to his shoulder. She meowed softly once in his ear, then licked him. Pocki didn't react, but Andre's brow fell at the cat's appearance.

"Sir," said Andre, voice raw with disapproval. "What exactly is this? Why is your cat outside the cat-petting area?"

"Oh, this is my personal cat. I just brought her...because I didn't want her to be alone at my house. You know how affectionate some cats are. I just can't let the little girl alone."

He nuzzled the the cat's neck for emphasis. Andre, on the other hand, jabbed his finger at Mitzy.

"This is exactly the problem we've been having lately. Sir, I'm going to need you to verify that you and not the cat are the owner of this business."

Pocki, through some amazing talent of expression, kept his smile going even as he poked out his bottom lip. "Oh, please Mr. Andre, my baby girl Mitzy is just a cat. She couldn't possibly run a business."

"Mr. Joblin," Andre intoned in his firmest cop voice. "It is illegal for a cat to run a business in this dimension. We've made some exceptions in the past but the economic and social repercussions were disastrous. I'm going to need your cat to sign some paperwork."

"This is completely ridiculous..."

"It is also the law." Andre shuffled through one of the piles of forms on the counter and drew out a blank one. "Here is your feline non-ownership certification. I'm going to need both you and Mitzy to sign it, and then display in a prominent place on your wall. I recommend somewhere next to your sanitation rating."

Andre placed the form down. He wrote the day's date on it, and then signed his name above the "attending officer" blank at the bottom of the page. Next to that was another blank line with "cat owner" below it, and the third blank read only "the cat." The top text of the certificate read: "Statement of Feline Non-Ownership: The cat or cats signed below certify that do not own, operate, manage, represent, or possess ceremonial title for the establishment listed here:" Pocki filled in "Kitty Burger Cafe" next to this.

"Sir, please place your cat on the counter to sign."

"That's not a very sanitary practice, Mr. Andre."

"No, and neither is allowing your cat free reign outside the cat area, but I assume you'll clean up before you open."

Andre pulled a little inkpad out of his pocket and flipped open the lid. Pocki put Mitzy on the counter as ordered, but she wandered off a little bit, sniffing at the various paperwork with a gently flipping tail, just as any cat might. At Andre's stare, Pocki carefully directed Mitzy's left forepaw -- the one that was black and not the easily stained white -- toward the inkpad. He then put Mitzy's paw in the blank space for "the cat" on the verification certificate. As soon as he put the unfortunate cat back on the counter, a noticeable look of relief came to Andre's eyes, and he placed a special gold seal on the upper right corner of the certificate.

"Alright, I guess that about finishes things. The non-own is good for ten years or cat replacement, whichever is sooner. I'll leave you with your copies of the paperwork, and you have a nice day, Mr. Joblin."

"And you as well, Mr. Andre."

As Andre left, Pocki sniffed and patted Mitzy piteously, casting many dark glances at the departing officer. Mitzy patted him back, dabbing hier ink stained paws against Pocki's nose and mewing as though to receive comfort.

"I know, baby, I know it was necessary...but did you smell that ink? It wasn't allergy-free, skin softening cat ink. It was just the regular kind. I know how much you hate regular ink...regular ink isn't good for my widdle fwuffykins..."

Mitzy nuzzled against him, wiping away his tears with her fur. It was at that point that Maxine entered, dragging a cloud of irritation behind her. She caught a glimpse of Pocki and his cat. Instantly she turned her eyes away. Pocki was far too attached to the cat for his own good (or anyone's good, really), but all the same Maxine didn't want to watch someone be affectionate. It reminded her too much of her own failures in love, human connection, and just life in general.

"Ah, Maxine, there you are," Pocki gently placed Mitzy's paws back on the counter. "We'll be needing to set up for this weekend's catwalk."

"Catwalk?"

"Yes, we're having our grand opening, and of course the best thing to do is to show off our cats! We've got so many, I just don't know how the customers will keep up with them. But of course the star of the show is my girl Mitzy. I guess you could say she comes before a world famous pop singer, because she's the pre-Madonna!"

Maxine blinked. She knew that Pocki meant "prima donna" as a part of his pun, but she just wasn't feeling it. Because no pun deserves the luxury of commentary, Maxine stared at Pocki to communicate her feelings.

"I know, I know," Pocki sighed. "I just haven't had a very good morning. My puns lack potence, there is a rift in my wordplay gift, and my capability falls far short of my cape-ability."

Maxine hadn't been aware that Pocki was wearing anything other than his usual dress shirt and slacks, but all of a sudden he flashed out a flap of waist-length fabric with shiny purple sequins as an inner lining. This apparition vanished as soon as Pocki's flourish ended, and Maxine blinked with an intensity that she had picked up in the past week of working for the Kitty Burger.

Yeah, I'm gonna need a lot more free food to cope with this. Maxine rubbed her eyes. "Uh, yeah, okay, so like, this catwalk thing, uh, let me put up my stuff in the back and I'll get on it. I assume I need to be in the kitty area for this one."

She walked away before Pocki could make another pun. Fortunately her boss had in fact provided the locker storage in the receiving area, so at least he listened. He'd gotten the big lockers too, so Maxine could put both her jacket and her backpack into the locker with ease. Maxine stared at the space in the locker, trying to calculate if it would hold her suitcase or not. It would be inconvenient to not have access to her stuff in the off-hours, but having a locker here was probably safer than leaving her suitcase under a bridge.

No one was in the dining area when Maxine came back, so she opened the door to the kitty area. It was unlocked, and inside was Pocki. He held Mitzy, cooing and wiping her little paws with a baby wipe. Once Maxine opened the door, Mitzy hopped out of Pocki's grip.

"Miaou!" she said.

Maxine could never be sure how exactly she seemed to understand the cat, but without thinking, she held the door open behind her until Mitzy was gone.

"Mitzy doesn't like it in here," Pocki got up off of his knees. "But this is the only place where we keep the baby wipes. Alright, so let's clear things out."

Maxine wasn't paying much attention. The kitty area was much as she had seen it before. There was the line of benches against the wall it shared with the dining area. That looked the same as it ever did, as did the left wall (from the dining area entrance) with the unobtrusive door to Pocki's office, and the cave where Princess Trixie Puff lounged. At the same time, the proportions of the room looked wrong. It wasn't just the new tables and chairs. Somehow the office door and cave looked farther away, as did the cat towers stacked up against the far wall and tinted windows.

"Is it just me," Maxine asked. "Or is this place bigger than it used to be?"

"Oh, that." Pocki flipped his hand in nonchalance. "The catwalk is going to be a huge event. I mean, we're going to have the runway, the dj booth, backstage, brushing areas, customers walking in and out... it's just too much for a place like ours. Fortunately it's cheap to lease space from the 22nd dimension these days, so I just put in a lease and ta-da, space. Truly interdimensional expansion is the wave of the future. Come on and help me get these partitions."

And there was a stack of partitions, right behind the tables. Maxine eyed the normal-sized door between here and the dining area, wondering how in the world these large squares of fabric-covered metal struts made it into the room. But of course, there was a more pressing question that needed to be asked.

"Hey, Pocki," Maxine said as she grabbed one half of the partition her boss was also reaching for. "You mentioned the dimensions the other day. Like....what are you talking about?"

"Hm, I suppose I could tell you. You are going to work here, and I don't like keeping secrets from my employees. And lift -- great, now let's start over where my office door is. I think I'll make the partitions permanent over there."

"So, you've been eating 3R1N's Calabi-Yau fries, yes?"

"Well, yeah. They taste out of this world."

"And you know what makes them taste out of this world?"

"Uh...it's because each fry is an orb of precisely 10 or 11 dimensions, like how the scientists Calabi and Yau think there are dimensions in the universe. Length, width, height, time, and a bunch of those other ones that I either can't remember or don't know. That's why."

"No, of course not, it's because 3R1N is a great cook." Pocki grinned as they placed down the first barrier in front of the office door. "But yes, you're right about 10 or 11 dimensions. There's actually 12 dimensions, except the 12th is so difficult to empirically verify, that they can only guess it exists because of the dimensional universes."

"Dimensional universes...?"

"Yes, it's the difference between regular dimensions and those 'alternate dimensions' they talk about in science fiction stories. As in, places a person might go. Mind you, these aren't alternate dimensions in the sense that they're created by a person making an 'alternate' choice, but static universes that are specifically 144 in number." Pocki cupped his hands over his mouth and began making air noises. "Kssht. They bring balance to the universe!"

Maxine puzzled over this as she followed Pocki back to the stack of dividers. "So why a hundred and forty-four? Wait, that's twelve times twelve. So...that must be the evidence that there are twelve dimensions, because if there were only ten or eleven, there would be only 100 or 121 dimensions, not 144. Right?"

"Exactly! It's a good thing I don't have much of a sweet tooth right now, because you're one smart cookie!" Pocki grabbed his side of a divider, and they lifted it together. "You got the idea right away. Each dimension has two main aspects, primary and secondary. Technically speaking all 12 dimensions exist in all dimensional universes at once, but two of them are always going to be more influential. Imagine a paper with two blanks on it. The dominant number comes first, then the secondary number. For example, the first dimensional universe is 1-1, the second is 1-2, and right on down, just like that."

"Oh, okay. So...what dimensional universe is this?"

"1-1!" Pocki exclaimed. "The first dimension, that is, dominant 1, means normalcy! With a secondary that's also normalcy, that means we're in the first, most normal dimensional universe!"

"Pssht. Figures that I'd live in the most boring universe."

"Nonsense! This is the most stable universe. It keeps things in check. The universe would fall out of balance without it!"

The two of them struggled a bit with the second partition for a while. Pocki had never put up this brand of divider before, and he wasn't quite sure how each divider was supposed to latch on into each other. Maxine didn't know either. She was far too broke to consider buying even one of them -- though for a moment she was lost in imagination considering how useful it would be to have a divider in her homeless state. It was windy at night, and since fall was deepening into colder nights, she was going to need a wall of some kind sooner or later. Thinking about such things darkened her countenance. She quickly snapped her face out of it. It was simply too embarrassing to let Pocki know her troubles, and given how weird he'd been up to this point, there was no telling how 'unique' any possible solution he'd have to her troubles would be. Once Pocki finally got the second divider in place, she distracted him, but mainly herself, by asking more questions as they continued to work.

"You said that 1 represents normalcy. What do the other twelve represent?"

"Oh, I don't remember all of them right now," Pocki chuckled. "But 2 represents statistical oddities -- outliers, lottery winners, bad luck -- and 3 represents physical danger. 12 represents imagination and possibility. As you can imagine, DU 12-12 is a very...interesting place. They say it's the most random universe, but others also say that it's the most rational one. All I know is, everyone who stays there long enough to understand that dimension loses the ability to understand all the other ones. They're not actually insane, they just move by a logic that fits with rational thought about as badly as off-brand 'Legos'. It's the counter-balance to the first dimension either way."

"That sounds really dangerous."

"It is, it is. Don't worry, your job doesn't require you to travel inter-dimensionally...but ah, accidents happen. Just remember that if you somehow end up in the 144th dimension, well, don't get curious. Just keep your eyes shut and hope that help is coming."

"I...uh...um...I'll keep that in mind. Except, how will I know that I'm in the 144th dimension?"

"Oh, trust me, you'll know. Nobody ever mistakes it for anything else."

"That's...good."

They had worked their way through a few more partitions at this point, and by now both the office door and Princess Trixie Puff's cave hideaway (her highness was still napping) were out of sight. Pocki gestured at the area to the right of the cave, along the back wall, and mentioned where the DJ booth and green room were going to be set. They focused on the work, and Maxine stopped wondering about the dimensions for a while, if for no other reason than to stop wondering what Pocki meant by "accidents happen."

I'm beginning to think that I'm going to need insurance working here. Like, interdimensional insurance. Do they even have that here? Like, 'have you or your loved ones ever suffered a collapse in the time-space continuum? Ever been lost to the universes with no way out? Call the law offices of James Scott Farrin-'

"Rasputin! What are you doing over there, little buddy? How did you even get in there? You're supposed to be with the other cats." Pocki crouched down at the bottom of the stack of dividers. He grinned a teasing grin. "Oh no, are you being a naughty cat? Looks like someone needs a kitty punishment!"

"Maaow!" Rasputin wailed.

"Don't punish the cat," Maxine tsked. "Rasputin's probably just trapped. Poor baby kitty."

"You don't know him like I do, Maxine. Rasputin's as devious as his namesake, and since there are no Russian emperors to bring down, he instead has to bring down me. And since I'm on my knees, I guess it worked! No, the cats are being taken care of elsewhere right now, and Rasputin, well, he doesn't like having to sit in one place while we get this area sorted."

Pocki reached through the gaps in the stack of bars to try and grab Rasputin. It didn't work, as even Pocki's skinny arm (Maxine noted with jealousy) couldn't reach very far through. Maxine thought for a moment. They could probably get Rasputin out by just pulling off the dividers from the top, but those dividers might vibrate and shuffle in a way that could hurt Rasputin. Maxine looked at the top of the stack. A ripped hole in the fabric was apparently Rasputin's entry point, and he'd fallen through the cross-bars. She reached in through it.

"Come on, Raspy," Maxine said. "Come here, baby cat. Meow, meow! Don't be shy. Just jump up into my arms and I'll get you out of there. You can do it!"

"You can let her help you, Rasputin," Pocki chuckled. "Or I can get you out."

Whatever this was supposed to mean, Rasputin didn't take it well (either that, or Maxine just looked too weird to trust at that angle -- it wouldn't be the first time that a small animal reacted poorly to Maxine's big ol' nose). He wiggled away from Pocki, hiding under one of the struts of a divider, as far as his chunky cat self could go. It wasn't far, and Maxine could easily see the poor feline shuddering. Maxine reached down for the cat, saddened.

"Come on, Raspy, you're a bouncy cat! All you have to do is bounce right up to me and I'll catch you! Pretty please?"

"No, I don't think that'll work." Pocki got to his feet. "You've seen how high Rasputin can jump. He can get out of there by himself. He's just not doing it because he's shy."

Rasputin wailed piteously once more, pacing back and forth in the little confined space. Maxine made little meowing noises to attempt to communicate in cat, strongly in denial about how much she wanted the approval of a ditzy cat. Which is why she barely noticed that Pocki had gone behind her and started pulling up one of the new tables. By the time she noticed, he had almost reached the stack of dividers.

"Watch out, Maxine."

Maxine had already moved to help him, but since the table wasn't heavy and he was already only three or four feet away, her help was useless -- but she did help anyway, and they both moved the table next to the stack of dividers.

"Rasputin can jump up through the crossbars and get himself out, you see," Pocki said. "It's just a little hard for him to do when there's nothing for him to land on. He gets nervous. Alright, Rasputin, the table's here. Give yourself three strikes and come on out."

He smacked the dividers a bit for emphasis. A sour maaaoow came through the struts, then nothing. Maxine waited on edge for the kitty to pop out, but Pocki simply stood there with his arms folded, a patient smile on his face. Maxine looked at him in wonder for a little bit, until he gestured at the stack of dividers again. An instant later, a grey little missile popped up. Rasputin landed on the table, with his tongue just a little bit out.

Maxine smiled and reached for the cat, but he hopped to the side just as she nearly touched his ear. She swept her arm in the other direction, only for Rasputin to hop over her arm again. He gave a little maaow, spun in a circle, then proceeded to run all the way to Pocki, bouncing around him in a circle as though it were some kind of tribal dance.

"Ah, the energies of youth. Such joy, such movement!" A faint, wistful smile flew over Pocki's lips, and his eyes wandered in a dreamlike daze. "How I wish I were my young self again! But alas, too soon have the jaws of time taken my youthful hopes and crushed them under the grindstone of life."

At the word "crushed" Pocki slapped his hands together, and Rasputin went running. He ran to the little kitty ladder to the kitty shelf that ran along the ceiling. From here, Rasputin stared down at the two humans, his little tongue still sticking out. Maxine pouted.

"I don't think I have been receiving as much kitty love as I would like," Maxine sighed. "I'm super close to just surrendering myself to Princess Trixie Puff's fur and forgetting the world exists."

Pocki nodded. "That's actually a good idea. If you willingly surrender to her mighty fluff, then purr highness will not feel the need to conquer your spirit. Resisting the princess only makes you a greater challenge for her powers! But that will have to wait until we're set up. There's no rest for the wicked, and no wicked for the rest!"

"I'm pretty sure that that's not true-"

Pocki waved his arm in the air. "Tallyho!"

Again, Maxine perceived the flourish of some magical cape flying behind Pocki's back; again it glimmered away into nothingness. She just shook her head and got to work. And work they did. Once the dividers were up, they put a stage in place, a runway, and a DJ booth on a special stand at the back of the stage. After this came the tables and chairs, which didn't take long. What did take long was the little "backstage" area behind the dividers. Pocki insisted on each cat in the catwalk having its own little bed with all accessories nearby, one for each feline: a nail clipper, a brush, tiny bottles of special formula cat-fur conditioner, cedarwood essential oil, and a colorfully accented folding card with a motivational line on it:

"You can do it, Oscar!"

"Narnia, you have the strength of a tiger and the grace of a swan."

"Remember your strength, Nora!"

"Knock 'em dead, Hannabelle!"

After a while, Maxine stopped reading. It was all she could do to keep up with the construction paper, glitter glue, and golden star stickers she had to paste. By the time that all of this was finished, the cats had returned from wherever they had been. Maxine never saw where they came from, but noticed only when they each lined up in front of the princess' cave. The giantess touched noses with each cat in turn -- even Rasputin, who had come down safely from the cat shelf. He bounced giddily in place as Trixie Puff approached. She snorted at him, but Rasputin bounced all the same. Then, with a great paw, she held him against the ground.

"Maaaaow!"

Ignoring his plea, Trixie Puff touched his nose with hers and moved on. That was all Maxine could see before she turned to find an auburn android in her face.

"I've been testing slide varieties all morning and now I'm out of plates, User Maxine." 3R1N stared directly into Maxine's eyes. "Chop, chop."

"Uh...yes, ma'ambot."

3R1N wasn't kidding. A massive stack of plates stood in the dirty dish area of the triple sink. Maxine sighed and got to work: wash water in sink one, sink two for rinsing, and sanitizer in sink three. By the time that Maxine got all the cheese-crusted, grease-coated, ketchup-stained dishes cleaned -- and many pans and spatulas besides -- it was the end of the work day. Maxine packed her free food and clocked out.

It was only when the door closed firmly behind her that Maxine realized that she had not followed through on her hope. She hadn't snuggled with Princess Trixie Puff. Before she could turn around and amend this great tragedy, the lock clicked. If the hands that had done so were Pocki's, Maxine could have said something. She looked up only to see 3R1N's purple pupils, and it just wasn't worth it. So she trudged on back, able to only look forward to a cold night under a bridge, and, if she was lucky, the snuggles of a tiny cat.

Aw, crap. I forgot to ask Pocki for one of those divider things...

Maxine ushered herself along, trying to decide if it was worth it to try and sneak into the motel maid's closet again.