Directly out of college, with few other prospects, and hoping to at least pay the interest on my debt, I took a job nannying for a young boy. This boy had a kitten. A very special kitten.
The first time I met the boy, Edward, he was in his bedroom. He sat in an ornate armchair, eyes fixed on the screen of a tablet. I was told that he was four and a half, but his neatly combed hair and unruffled button-down shirt made him seem older. The kitten was sleeping on his lap, a circle of velvety black and white fur. As I approached, he looked up at me, then back down at the screen.
I knelt beside him, "Hello Edward, I'm Alicia, I'm going to be your new nanny."
He looked back up from the screen, blue eyes gazing at me from his pale face and said, "Hello Alicia."
When he did, the kitten stirred, stretching and yawning. It was mostly black, but with a white chest and face, and the same pure white on the tips of each of its feet. Then, its eyes blinked open and I gasped, "Edward, your kitten's eyes are purple! I didn't know cats could have eyes like that."
He nodded, "Yes. My mama gave me this kitten. She says it's very special."
It settled back into his lap and began purring. I said, "Well it's a fine kitten. And I'm sure it will grow into a fine cat."
He shook his head, "No. It won't grow up."
I felt the edges of my mouth curling upwards despite myself. "Is that so?" I asked.
He nodded, "Mama says it's a magic kitten, and it will never grow up."
I reached out and ruffled his hair, "Whatever you say Edward."
I was signed on by the butler, and so didn't meet his mother until later that day, after she returned from some urgent business she had been attending to. She was older than I expected, with lines beginning to show on her thin face, and the hair of her austere bun a slate gray. She surveyed me for some time, before saying, "You are the new nanny?"
I nodded.
She said, "Fine. And you have met Edward?"
"I did. I was with him just before you got back."
She was not exceptionally tall - not taller than I was anyway - But it somehow seemed she was looking down her nose at me. She said, "And...?"
I stammered, "He is an adorable little boy. Very imaginative."
"Imaginative? How so?"
"Well, he told me that his kitten is magic. That it will never grow up."
She nodded, "That's true."
I took a moment to respond, "But, ma'am, everything grows up."
"Not this kitten. I assure you."
"But... how is that possible?"
She looked down at her nails for a moment as though she were thinking. Then she said, "Alicia, is it?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Do you know why we fired the last nanny Alicia?"
"No ma'am."
She looked up then, meeting my eyes with her intense stare, "She asked too many questions. Wanted to know things that didn't concern her. Do you understand?"
"Yes ma'am."
She gave me an icy smile, "Excellent."
I didn't believe her then, though of course I didn't say so. But as the weeks turned into months, I saw that she was right. During all that time, it stayed a kitten. Playful and tiny, its fur still as soft as the first day I met it.
The only time it ever left the house was when the valet would take it in for a monthly check-up. The first few times, I said nothing, the mother's words still fresh in my mind. But four months in, as he was placing the mewling creature into a carrier, I asked him, "Where is it you take the kitten every month."
He zipped up the carrier, "The vet. They're in a big fancy building downtown."
"And they do something that keeps it young like that?"
He shrugged, "D'know. It's just my job to bring it there. Bring it back."
"And you've never wondered?"
He lifted the carrier, "'Course I wondered. But I also know better'n sticking my nose around places it don't belong. If you catch my drift."
I did, and didn't bring it up with him again.
Several more months passed after that conversation. The mother was absent mostly, called away by constant obligations that she never spoke of to me. So I was left to care for Edward: to play with him, take him on outings, clean him, tuck him in every night. Then, after he was asleep, I returned to the small room I had been furnished to send out applications for any job that held even the most tenuous of connections to the degree whose debt I was still servicing. If I was lucky, I would receive a rejection form. Usually not even that.
One afternoon, just after lunch, Edward asked, "Would you like to play a game Alicia?"
"Of course. What would you like?"
He thought a moment, "Do you know how to play chess?"
I was taken aback, "Do you?"
He bobbed his head once, "Yes, Jenny taught me."
I walked over to the shelves where games were stacked, "I see. Was she your nanny before me?"
"No, before you was Kate. Jenny was before her."
I pulled down the chess-set, "You must have been very young then to learn how to play chess!"
He gave another of his curt nods, "Mama says I'm precocious."
I laughed, "So it would seem."
We set up the board. I was not a skilled chess player, but I knew the rules, and didn't expect to have any trouble against a four year old. But he soon had me on the defensive. I suspect I would have lost that game if his mother had not arrived just as he captured the last of my knights. She said, "Alicia, there you are. Edward and I will be going to a dinner party tonight. I would like you to get him ready, then take the kitten in for its appointment."
I looked up from the board, "Yes Ma'am. But it's usually the valet's..."
"The valet has been let go. Do you think that taking the kitten to its appointment will exceed your capabilities?"
"No Ma'am. No, not at all."
Another of her icy smiles, "I hope not."
I was surprised to find that the address she gave me was for the 38th floor of a towering glass and steel spire rising in downtown. The elevator whisked me up and slid open to reveal a richly appointed room. A chandelier cast mellow lights upon its bare white walls, and my shoes clacked against what seemed to be a real marble floor. The man sitting at the front desk was dressed in a tailored suit.
I approached him nervously, the cat-carrier at my side, and said, "Excuse me sir, I think I may be in the wrong place, but... I was asked to bring this kitten in for its checkup."
He looked inside the carrier and laughed, "It must be your first time here."
I nodded, "Yes."
"Well, you're at the right place. In that carrier you've got is one of our forever kittens. The eyes are a trademark of sorts for us."
"Oh," I said, "So you're the ones who keep it young?"
He nodded, "Yes. You could say that."
He took the carrier from me and said, "It takes a couple hours, so feel free to step out if you like. There's a new café on 2nd just south of Broadway that I can recommend."
"Uh... thank you."
"Don't mention it."
He rose from his chair to leave, but before he had taken even one step, I blurted out, "How do you do it?"
Instantly, I wished that I hadn't asked. I half expected the man to begin shouting at me, telling me to keep my nose out of other peoples business. But he just smiled and said, "I'm afraid that's a trade secret Miss. Don't you worry about it."
After that it became my job to take the kitten into its monthly appointments. The man at the desk would take it in to the mysterious backrooms and, two hours later it returned, looking for all the world like they had washed away its last month.
Edward and I took to playing chess several times a week, games that would end either with his victory, or with the kitten pouncing on to the board to knock the pieces about. I always chided it when that happened, but secretly welcomed the face-saving distraction.
Still, despite my inevitable losses, I was happy to play with Edward. Besides being taken by his mother to her society events, he hardly left his room, and seemed to have no friends his own age. Outside of our games, he spent his time glued to the screen of his tablet.
I still I spent my nights applying for other jobs. Still without success. But I wanted to have something else lined up, the sooner the better. Talking to the other staff in the household, I gathered that the valet's sudden termination was unsurprising. With the exception of the senile grounds-keeper, there wasn't a single member of the staff who had held their job more than a year.
As it turned out, I didn't even last that long.
Seven months into my employment, I was taking the kitten in for its checkup. The fourth I was responsible for. This time however, I returned early from my stroll downtown, and I found the front desk empty. I was about to settle into one of the waiting room chairs, when I saw that the door, leading to the back, had been left ajar.
For a moment I hesitated. I knew I should wait here, keep my nose out of things that didn't concern me. But weighed against that was my curiosity. Months of not knowing, of being told to mind my own business. The rationalizations began to pour into my head. It would only be a quick peek. If I was caught, I would say I was just looking for the kitten I was supposed to collect. And anyway, there was no sign saying I couldn't go back there. So before I could lose my nerve, I walked around the desk and through the door.
On the other side I found myself in a lab. Floor to ceiling shelves were laden with white plastic boxes. Most were about the size of gallon jugs, but a some were larger, a few as much as four feet long. Tubes ran in and out of each, and I could see a mysterious clear fluid being pumped through them. I heard voices in the next room and - careful to not make a sound - peered around a row of shelves.
There I saw the man who was usually at the front desk, standing over a stainless steel table. Beside him was a lady with her straight brown hair up in a pony-tail. They both wore long white lab coats and had their backs to me. On the table in front of them lay Edward's kitten, asleep or sedated, with dozens of wires running from electrodes on its head to one of the smaller white boxes.
The man from the front desk was saying, "How much longer will it take? The girl will be back for her kitten soon."
The lady tapped at a computer, also wired to the box, and replied, "It's almost done. There were a few hangups to get sorted out this time around. Running a memory transfer isn't easy you know."
"So you've said. If you need more time I can go and..."
"No. I said it's almost done. Look, less than a minute left."
"Fine."
The computer chimed and the lady said, "See? nothing to worry about. Here hold the vitro so I can get it open."
The man took the box in his hands and the lady pulled a small screw-driver from her pocket and began removing the bolts holding it together. He said, "And the hangups didn't cause any trouble?"
She started on a new bolt, "No, of course not. Nothing I couldn't handle. It'll be good as new."
Then she pulled the box open. It was all I could do to keep from gasping and giving myself away. There, in the white plastic box was a perfect copy of Edward's kitten. The same pattern, same soft fur, same purple eyes just starting to blink open. I looked back and forth between it and the original kitten, still lying on the table, wires running from its head. She handed the new kitten to the man, who placed it into the carrier. He said, "Alright, I should get back. I assume you can handle the cleanup on your own."
She took a hypodermic needle from the table beside her, "Yes, I think I can manage putting down one sedate kitten on my own."
She picked up the old kitten. It hung limply in her hand, and she was raising the needle up to its small body when I leapt out from behind the shelves, and shouted, "No! Wait!"
The pair of them turned to face me, shocked expression on their faces behind thick safety glasses. The woman spoke first, "And who are you?"
The man responded, "This is Alicia. She's the girl who brings this kitten in. Alicia, what are you doing back here? It's not allowed."
"I...I was just... well you weren't at the desk so... Please don't kill the kitten."
They exchanged a glance. The man from the front desk said, "I don't know what you think is going on, but your kitten is right here," he held the carrier out to me.
I pointed to the other kitten, "And that one?"
The man cleared his throat, "Well..."
But before he could say more, the lady thrust the kitten on me, "You want it? Take it. One this small is hardly worth the effort to reclaim. Just get out of my lab. I have a busy schedule."
The man looked shocked, but I didn't give him time to object. Grabbing the carrier from him, I rushed from the building, Edward's old kitten clutched to my breast.
I knew that would be the end of my employment, but I was still surprised to find the mother waiting for me in front of the house. Even as I was getting out of the car, she stormed up to me and demanded, "Where is it?"
"What?" I asked.
"Don't be dense, girl," She snapped, "You know exactly what. The cat you took home with you today. Where is it!"
"Please, let me explain, he's very scared I think. He's hiding right now, but..."
"Get him out."
I didn't know what else to do, so I got down on my knees and pulled the poor kitten out from under the seat where he was cowering. He hissed and tried to bite at me, sensing something was wrong, but I held him tight.
The mother said, "Give him to me."
I hesitated, but there was a sharpness to her voice that told me I had no choice. I held the small creature out, and she snatched it from me by the scruff of its neck. Dangling from the long nails of her fingers, it whimpered, and I said, "Don't! You're hurting him!"
She ignored my plea, "What did I tell you when you started working here? What were you to always do?"
I opened my mouth, but before I could say a word she answered herself, "Mind your own business! But instead you had to go poking around. Bringing this... thing, back to my house."
I tried to explain in a wavering voice, "I'm sorry. But... they kill the kittens there. I had to save him."
She glared at the kitten struggling in her hand, "Save it? This cat was part of something grand before. An unbroken lineage of perfection. But now you've saved it from that. Saved it to grow up and suffer the indignities of the world. To become old and broken. It's teeth decaying. Its coat coarse and ragged. So what if this body would be cast aside? It's memories, its self would go on in another. Always a kitten, always playing, always happy. You took that from it!"
I began to stutter out an apology, but before I could, she flung the kitten back to me, "Take your damn cat and go. I never want to see you on my grounds again!"
A year later, I was living in a dark basement apartment where the pipes froze on cold days and the door's frames were so warped they needed to be slammed shut. Still, I barely made the rent each month with the minimum wage paycheck I brought home working at a convenience store checkout.
One night, getting home bone tired, I didn't slam the door quite hard enough, and it swung open behind me. An instant later, a blur of black and white streaked past my feet. I turned just in time to see my cat darting into the laundry room.
Despite the late hour, there was a woman in the laundry when I got there, moving her cloths into the dryer, and I asked, "Did you see my cat?"
She nodded, "Yeah, he's hiding under there."
As I pulled him out from beneath the shelving unit she had pointed to, she said, "We're not allowed to have cats you know. It's in the lease."
"He's my sister's," I lied, "I'm just looking after him for a day or two."
She glared at me, but I didn't think she'd report me to the landlord. I muttered, "Have a good night," And began back towards my room."
As I turned to walk away, she called out, "Wait!"
I spun back around, "What?"
She stared at the cat in my arms, mouth agape, "That cat..."
"Yes."
She leaned forward, looking intently into the twin amethyst orbs of its eyes.
"It grew up."
We met the next day in my apartment. Over tea, I told her my story. When I was finished, she said, “I also worked there. Back ten, or no, I guess almost fifteen years ago. She did the same thing then, had a kitten for her son that never grew up. This same kitten even. Or a copy of it I guess. I never knew how they did it until now.”
I said, “I didn't realize she had an older son. He was never around.”
The lady shrugged, “I'm not too surprised. That mother was a real piece of work. He probably turned eighteen and got out of there.”
“I wouldn't blame him.”
She sipped at her tea, “No, neither would I. Still, I wonder how Edward turned out.”
“Edward?”
She said, “Yes, that was her son when I worked for her. A little boy named Edward.”
A chill ran down my spine, “Edward is the name of her son now.”
The lady froze, “A small pale boy. Dark hair. Blue eyes?”
I nodded.
She finished her tea, “It's probably just a coincidence.”
“Yes,” I said, “It's probably just a coincidence.”
Directly out of college, with few other prospects, and hoping to at least pay the interest on my debt, I took a job nannying for a rich woman. This woman had a son. A very special son.