Lucky Orville

A Story by Sydorax_Squid

A young kitten named Orville is rescued by two people and brought into their home. This, however, is not how he perceives the story.

Lucky Orville

Orville was stuck. He cried and cried; for hours, he cried, hoping someone would hear. It didn’t make any sense. His head fit in the shiny tube just fine! The shoulders were a bit snug, but it wasn’t the tightest fit he’d ever squeezed through.
Just didn’t make sense! He smelled something good in the big white metal thing. Something edible, maybe? Or maybe just an aromatic residue from the thing’s previous occupation. Orville was curious, and hungry. The risk was worth it in his mind. And besides, he wouldn’t get stuck. No way. He was little and could fit anywhere!
He kept on crying.
Suddenly there was a noise. He recognized the sound of voices, the sound of movement, large and terrifying. Orville looked up, straining his eyes.
Giants! Monstrous, hairless, bipedal monsters towered over Orville. They were going to eat him, there was no doubt in his mind. He would be a tasty little snack for some hideous beasts.
He let out a pitiful little squeak, a noise hardly worthy of his ferocious feline heritage.
The giants talked amongst themselves, gesturing at him. One touched his little, fuzzy head, tilting it this way and that, as far as it could be tilted; which wasn’t very far. Nope, not far at all. The giant moved his scruff with their long, menacing digits; like fat, headless snakes those things. So gross and smelly!
Orville cried out mournfully. He was too young to die! He begged that, if they were to kill him, to do it swiftly. “Just twist my head off!” he wailed. The giants cooed, ruffling his fur. One of the giants, the uglier one by Orville’s standards, walked off, leaving the other behind. The giant pointed a shiny rectangle at him for no discernible reason, talking as though it was still in the company of another monster.
Despondent, Orville whimpered. He’d lost feeling in his clawed toes twice now. The giant dragged its gross, snake-like appendages over Orville’s exposed head and face, bopping him on the nose as if it was a funny thing to do. Each bop was accompanied by the giant saying “boop!” which the young Orville took to be a ritual performed on the doomed. For he was, indeed, truly doomed.
Oh, the other giant returned! “Perhaps now I can die,” Orville cried out, almost excited for it to be over. The giant was brandishing a yellow sack; probably to carry Orville’s dead body in.
The giant set the bag down, rummaging around inside. The pair talked a lot; honestly too much. The giant obsessed with the shiny rectangle pointed and tapped on the big white-metal thing Orville was trapped in. The ugly one came at Orville with something like a black bird’s beak. The beak opened and the giant pushed the little creature’s head to the side, slipping half the beak down the tight tube against the kitten’s neck.
“Ow!” Orville whined. The giant instructed the disembodied beak to bite down and with a loud chunk! the beak closed, splitting the metal closed around his neck. Suddenly, Orville could breathe a little easier. There was just a tiny bit more room for him now. “What, can’t get me out?” That was something he hadn’t considered. Maybe he was so stuck, the giants couldn’t reach him. Why kill something if you aren’t going to eat it? Fun. You do that for fun. Orville groaned inward. He went and talked himself right out of hope.
The giant repeated that process several times, sliding the beak down, clamping it, cutting a line in the metal, and then using a different beak to pry the metal slivers apart. Each time, it got easier to breathe and Orville found himself a little closer to freedom. Will it be eternal freedom, or merely fleeting?
The giants suddenly tried to pull him out, pulling him by his entire cranium.
“Ow! Ow!” Orville yowled at their insistence. Such idiots! “Stupid monsters, let go!” he hissed. The giants laughed at him, stroking his head and cooing. He wasn’t very fond of being mocked.
The giants talked a moment.
The object Orville was stuck in suddenly moved, being shifted by the ugly (but thankfully proactive) giant while the other, useless one yammered on.
“Oh, shut up, you!” Orville growled. He could feel the slithering, seeking fingers of the ugly giant on his rump, grasping at his legs and tail. “Watch it! That hurts.” The snakes found purchase, wrapping around his soft, fuzzy, white stomach. Orville mewed as he was dragged from his dreadful prison, out into the fresh air of freedom! Oh, what a wondrous feeling, the sun on his fur, the warmth of the giant’s hand, the odd weightlessness of being carried high above the ground. His head lolled, tired.
“So, you gonna sauté me or boil me?” Orville inquired flatly. The giants spoke to each other excitedly, making loud noises of victory.
They carried him far, up a mountain and into a wooden temple. The giants talked constantly. The unproductive one continued to be unproductive while the not-as-ugly-as-previously-thought giant wiped the icky grease and muck from Orville’s fur. That felt nice, like getting a bath from Mama.
Shockingly, the giants put him down on the floor of their temple and just watched him. Naturally, Orville ran to the safety of a corner.
“Can’t sneak up on me here, can you?” he sneered proudly. They just cooed and talked and pointed. At some point the unproductive one left. Just… left. Without that one’s constant noise, Orville found himself relaxing a bit. The not-so-ugly one was quiet and maintained plenty of space. If one of the hands got too close, Orville need only hiss a warning before the offending appendage was retracted.
They stared at each other for a while. The not-so-ugly one pointed at Orville and spoke.
One word. Very simple. Even in the indecipherable giant language, Orville could discern the meaning; a name.
“Jack.”
The little cat blinked, emerald eyes sparkled with curiosity though dampened with suspicion.
“Jack.”
“Jack the Giant?” Orville asked in a plain meow. The irony of the name was not lost on him. Similar first sounds, like rhyming but in reverse. Cute. “Not so ugly, Jack.”
The giant smiled. It was a nice thing, the smile. Orville wasn’t sure why, but he liked it.
Eventually the talkative one returned. She came bearing gifts! Orville could smell something delectable in the crinkly satchels she carried. Jack used the work “Lucy” a lot around this giant. Perhaps that was her name? “Good enough,” thought Orville. “They’re too stupid to understand plain cat-tongue anyway, so they’ll never know if I’m wrong. If I live very long.” The thought made him shudder. Maybe that tasty smell was a warning; how he was going to smell once they got him good and dead!
But, now, that didn’t make much sense. “If they can just leave this temple here,” he mused. “And return with tasty treats galore, what use would they have in eating little old me? I’m not even half the size of one of those crinkly satchels!” Now, there was a thought! Could it be the giants meant him no harm at all? Perhaps they saw in him greater worth, saw him for the excellent hunter that he was and were attempting to win his favor with gifts so that he would teach them his secrets.
Orville purred with his delightful imaginings.
The Lucy approached him with a colorful bowl. A delicious smell wafted from the dish, dancing down on the still air of the temple and into Orville’s eagerly twitching nose.
“Ooooohhh,” he growled excitedly. He sniffed again, standing up on his little paws. The Lucy cooed happily, smiling and making little smacking noises with her mouth. She beckoned to him. Orville was tempted, oh, how he was tempted! The giant held the bowl down by his head and Orville’s eyes grew wide. There was a proper feast in there! His stomach gurgled noisily, urging him forward despite his uncertainty.
Orville reached his little front paw up and dipped it in the chunky wet goodness, drawing back the spoils to be tested by his most perceptive senses.
Lick, lick, lick. “Hey, this is good!” Orville repeated the acquisition maneuver, greedily licking the savory residue off his paw. The giants both made thunder with their mouths, a startling noise accompanied by those pleasing expressions they made.
The Lucy set the bowl down in front of the hungry kitten. Orville couldn’t help himself, he pressed his face into the tasty mess, getting it all over his fur and up his nose and on his whiskers. He made happy little humming noises as he ate, singing to himself about the excellent cuisine the giants had.
“This is even better than a fresh-killed bird!” he informed them through his stuffed cheeks. They smiled at him. The Jack and The Lucy talked quietly while Orville devoured the feast so fast it made his stomach hurt. “Worth it.” He licked the bowl clean and laid down on the soft fake moss that covered most of the temple’s floors. He was nice and full and cozy. His eyes drooped with fatigue. This had been an eventful day!
“I mustn't let my guard down,” he murmured to himself, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Giants are wily critters. Can’t be trusted. Gonna… lure me into… a false sense of… um… whatever it’s called.”
Orville’s eyes snapped open so fast that his head jumped off the ground of it’s own accord.
The temple was dark now and there was no sign of The Jack or The Lucy. Orville listened, his keen senses told him that they were still in the building, sleeping. He could hear their breathing; steady and smooth. He stood.
“Well, it was a nice stay,” Orville announced to no one. “And my compliments to your chef, but I really must be going.” He sauntered about the dark halls, his eyes perfectly attuned to the low light. He could see fantastically, up until a few centimeters from his nose. Typical for a cat.
His feet pat, pat, patted the ground silently, leaving no tracks nor the slightest noise. He wandered around the temple, looking for the exit.
“Hmmm,” he mused to himself. “Well, there must be an entrance. I remember it. And an entrance is usually an exit as well. Ah, here it is! Oh, but it appears to be blocked.” Orville sniffed at the seams. “The giants must move this dead tree slab out of the way when they want to enter or leave. Fooey, I am much to small to do that!” Discouraged and baffled, Orville left the closed portal. His stomach grumbled, his nose responded.
Sniff, sniff.
“Oooh!” Orville found himself prancing over to a corner, to a familiar bowl. A quick sniff revealed that the bowl contained something nutritious. But was it delicious? He was willing to find out.
Munch, munch, crunch! This stuff was harder than the other stuff, that wet stuff, but edible and filling nonetheless. Orville ate, making little noises of contentment as he emptied the bowl. His hunger again satiated, Orville was much less inclined to search the temple for an avenue of escape.
“What’s this?” He inquired of the aether, pawing gently at the contents of a second bowl. “Wet!” he yowled in surprise. With a little inquisition, however, he found it to be cool, clear water. Tasty! He certainly needed a little drink after all that hard, dry food.
Orville wandered about the temple listlessly, bored but not tired. He jumped onto a tall platform. “I wonder what this is?” he mused over a fuzzy mouse-shaped thing on a string on a stick. He batted at it. Whack, pap, bap! Now this was fun! Orville took the little thing into his powerful jaws and hopped off the tall platform. He proceeded to play with the mouse-thing, kicking it around, biting it, throwing it and having a grand time. It was just like playing with real-life prey. Eventually, unfortunately, Orville got bored. But he liked the mouse-thing, liked the way it smelled, so he carried it around. The stick got underfoot: How annoying.
“What’s this?” he said through the fur of the mouse-thing. “Another closed portal? Well, what could be beyond this one?” Orville extended his claws, scratching at the wooden slab. His sharp little finger-daggers weren't making very substantial headway. Perhaps a different tactic was called for?
“Hellooooo?” Orville called as loud as his little voice could muster. He spat the mouse-thing out, licking his lips before trying again. He mewed long and loud, insistently. Crying had gotten the giant’s attention the first time. It was reasonable to assume that it would work again.
“Are you in there? Hello? Can you hear me? Do you mind if I relieve myself here?” Orville was suddenly struck by the need to answer nature’s unfortunate call. “I didn’t find any piles of dirt or sand around here. It’s plain rude to poop without covering it up, after all.” The young cat walked around in a circle by the portal before completing his business on the fake moss. Out of habit, he scraped at the ground, pushing little flecks of dust and lint onto the mess. He resumed his yowling and scratching at the wooden slab. He still wanted access into this chamber, though he couldn’t really fathom why he wanted this so badly.
Suddenly the portal opened and he was met with the bleary-eyed face of The Jack.
“Ah, there you are,” Orville said, his voice light and chipper. “I was starting to think you had gone altogether!” The little cat picked up his mouse-thing and triumphantly pranced into the new area. He could smell The Lucy in here, too.
Orville learned quite a few new words over the course of the next few minutes. Words like “d****t” and “crap”, among others. The Lucy spoke on Orville’s behalf, making excuses for the kitten, gesturing and speaking in a cajoling tone. The Jack yelled, howling and barking like those wretched dogs did when they saw Orville walking around the neighborhood. Orville scoffed at the memory. “Those dogs are just jealous of me,” he always told himself.
Much to his surprise and elation, The Jack cleaned up the mess on the fake moss, muttering to himself all the while. The Lucy took hold of the stick attached to Orville’s mouse-thing and miraculously brought the little fur ball to life! It danced all about the cushy, plush waves on which the giants apparently slept. The waves were made of soft stuff that felt good on his paws and he could press and pull the waves into whatever shape met his fancy.
“Alright, give me the mouse-thing. I’m tired.” Orville growled low in his throat before giving The Lucy’s hand a firm but clawless whack. She released her hold on his precious mouse-thing and he took it to the far edge of the dry waves. The waves sat atop a squishy platform; the texture reminded Orville of the mud after a good rain, but not so messy. It was nice.
He made himself at home there, crafting and folding the waves into a cozy nest for him and his mouse-thing. His belly was full, his body was warm; all his needs were met.
“Y’know,” Orville purred gently, listening to the giants talk in fond whispers. “You guys aren’t so bad. And neither is this place. I think I’ll stay awhile. Move your foot, Jack. Thanks. Alright, good night.”
And Orville slept soundly knowing that the next day and the day after that would be the same. Good food, fun toys, warm blankets and giants to provide him with anything he wanted.
Orville had found himself living the good life.
Lucky, lucky Orville!

END