Irony

© 1998 Tara Roberts
All rights reserved.

It didn't take me long to realize I was a cat. At first I didn't think anything about who or what I am. All I was interested in was finding a place at my mother's crowded belly and a chance to swat at the fuzzy ball of yarn the tall stranger tossed at me and my siblings.

Then, one day, it happened. I was running through the house, attempting to out-race my brother, and bumped directly into a door mirror. Dazed, I peered at my image. Almond-shaped eyes looked back at me. Although I could not see color, I did notice the variety of stripes traced over my body. My ears were short and stood up. It was at that precise moment that I understood that I was a feline, and that I had lived before as a human being.

My name had been Joan Teare. I lived a wild but short life. I never met my father, and my mother was so exhausted from working two jobs to support me that I hardly knew her either. Most of my earlier years were spent alone sitting in front of a television set. This changed when I hit the age of fifteen. Then I spent my time partying with friends. Alcohol and drugs were in abundance. Boyfriends came and went. The fun times never seemed to end. I was on the roller coaster of life, and there was no stopping me. Regardless of all this excitement, I had always felt as if something were missing in my life. And, until now, I never understood what the deep, gnawing chasm in the pit of my stomach was. I had been in desperate need of a father-figure.

At the age of twenty-two I met Ed. My heart pounded painfully in my chest when this god of a man entered the bar where I sat with a few of the establishment's other regulars. Dark blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a smile that took my breath away.

We started talking and drinking. Before I knew it, we were in bed. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. I was in love—head over heels. He claimed he felt the same, but now I know different. This thirty-four year old man had a secret. A very dark secret indeed.

I discovered Ed's secret the hard way. He had brought me to his little cabin on the beach several times throughout the year of our relationship. I had requested his home address on many occasions, and I was suspicious when he continuously refused to divulge this information. But I was in love and content with our situation. I saw him nearly every night—I had nothing to complain about.

Until I didn't see him for three days in a row. Angry and a bit concerned, I went to his place of employment. The tall buildings in the heart of busy New York failed to intimidate me. I had been to his office late at night before and knew where I was going.

I went to the eighth floor of the prestigious insurance company and headed directly for his office. His secretary informed me that he had just left minutes earlier. Discouraged, I took the elevator to the ground floor and got in my beat-up old Cutlass. I started the car and was about to pull away when I spotted Ed. I was about to blow the horn to attract his attention when I noticed a blonde woman sitting in the passenger seat of his Saab. My blood turned to ice as I watched him gently kiss the woman.

He was seeing someone else!

At first I felt hurt, and then I became enraged. Who did he think he was? I decided to follow him. Not only did I want to see where they were going, I wanted to confront them both.

We wavered in and out of the busy traffic, then finally stopped before a beautiful townhouse decorated with lovely red roses beside the brick stairs. I was a few cars behind them, so when I pulled behind Ed's car, the pair were already halfway up the stairs.

Even now I chuckle as I recall Ed's expression of surprise when I jumped out of my car and ran up the stairs to join them. Not wanting the neighbors to hear my heated bellows and accusations, he ushered me and this woman into the house.

I quickly took in the splendor of the house—crystal chandeliers, oriental rugs, fine china—with one glance. We were in a den. The only furniture was a white leather recliner, sofa and two marble end tables. A thick glass swan glimmered magnificently on one of the end tables. Ignoring the beauty of the room, I demanded to know what he was doing here with this woman.

He coolly explained that I was in his home and I needed to lower my voice. The woman, who had remained quiet until now, asked who I might be. In a rush of fury, I told her.

Her sharp green eyes penetrated me; then she looked away and, without a word, left the room. I peered at Ed. He was sitting in the large, rich-looking recliner, his hands folded neatly over his barrel chest.

He shook his head slowly, as if disgusted. He spoke softly and calmly.

"You stupid bitch. She is my wife."

I was speechless. How could I have been so naive?

I stuttered, "Excuse me?"

He sighed wearily. "Excuse you? No, there is no excuse for you, Joan. Just exactly what did you think you were doing following me? Invading my privacy? Intruding? What right do you have? If I wanted you here, I would have invited you." He waved one of his hands at me as if brushing me away. "Go on, get out of here. I'll talk to you when I get this shit settled."

I backed away, incredulous. The nerve of this man!

"Where do you get off speaking to me like that?" My hands trembled. This was not the man I fell in love with.

He stood, and I seemed to shrink in his shadow. He was so tall! Of course I knew that prior to this day, but for some reason he seemed so ... big and threatening.

"Do I have to physically remove you, Joan? Grab you by the scruff of your neck and toss you onto the pavement?"

I backed away more, suddenly fearful.

"Ed?", I whimpered. "What's going on?" Tears were close. "You said you loved me..."

He chuckled.

"Get out, whore."

I opened my mouth, about to say something when his wife entered the room. Her face was cold, unfeeling.

"He told you that too?"

Ed pursed his lips together and ran a hand through his lush locks.

"Sandra, not now."

She approached us slowly, hands behind her back, icy gaze locked on me.

"No, Eddie. Now is the perfect time. You know, dear, he once told me he loved me too." She sighed. "But according to my calculations, you're his fifth lover in the three years we've been married." Her pretty face contorted into a snarl. "Don't listen to him. You're not a whore for being with him. He's a whore. A dirty, rotten, cheating whore."

Ed diverted his attention to me. He blurted angrily, "Get out, Joan. Now!"

My eyes widened in alarm as Sandra raised her arm and revealed the pistol she held.

"Ed!" I jumped toward her, and all I can remember is a blur as she and I wrestled for the gun. Then a shot went off, and I lay under her, covered in a blanket of crimson.

"Oh my God!" I blubbered, hysterical.

Ed pulled the woman's limp body off me and cradled her in his arms. I glanced at the gun in my hand and dropped it to the floor. Shuddering, I wiped my hands on the plush carpet, attempting to rid myself of the sticky blood.

Ed kissed the woman's open mouth, and carried her to the sofa. He placed her down, then turned to me.

"Joan, Joan, Joan. What have you done?"

I looked around.

"I... I don't know... I... the gun..."

He frowned, his handsome face becoming stern.

"Joan, you killed my wife," he stated flatly in a matter-of-fact tone. He kicked the gun away from my hand.

"Wha... She's ...."

He shook his head.

"Yes, she's dead."

I wondered how he could be so calm.

He squatted before me.

"Joan, you have caused much havoc here tonight. I certainly hope you're proud of yourself."

"But..."

He exhaled heavily.

"Well, the police aren't going to be too understanding, Joan. I mean, she was my third wife to die of 'mysterious circumstances.' And then there is the hefty life insurance policy I have on her...."

I tried to get up but couldn't. I was too shook up to move.

"The other two wives also left me a large sum of money...." He exhaled again. "Nope. They won't be understanding at all."

"Ed ... We could say...." I began.

"Yes, we could say you shot her, because you did, Joan."

"But..."

"Then you hit me over the head with, oh I don't know..." His eyes darted to the glass centerpiece on the end table behind him. "This." He grabbed the swan and broke it over his head. A stream of blood ran down his face at once.

I gasped. "Ed!"

He grasped the table for support.

"Whew! Hit myself a bit too hard!" He cleared his throat. "I don't want to pass out...."

I reached for him. "Oh, Ed, it was an accident... Can't you see that?"

"Then, I hit you, you know, after you smashed the swan over my head..." His fist suddenly came to life and connected my left eye. I fell to the floor, astonished.

Wobbly, he stood over me and wrapped his hands around my throat.

"This is how it happened, Joan. You entered my home, shot my wife, hit me hard enough to render me unconscious, then stole all of her jewelry and the cash from the vault ... which, coincidentally, is insured as well...."

His hands tightened. I thrashed about, struggling to free myself, attempting to breathe. A wave of dizziness overcame me.

"Bet you didn't know she was a wealthy woman, did you?" He snickered. "I'm going to bury you in my secret spot, Joan. Right beside Holly and Bev. Know why?" He kissed my mouth. Black spots appeared before my eyes. My arms dropped to my sides.

"Because I love you." The last thing I heard was his laughter, and then I knew no more.

Until now. I'm a cat. Reincarnation ... I never would have believed it. But my story doesn't end here. Oh no, it only gets more interesting.

I was adopted by a young woman. She was single when I first came home with her. She is a loving person and treats me well. I couldn't have asked for a better situation. The kicker is she has this little bird—a finch I think—in this little cage.

Me and this bird got to talking one day, and guess what? The bird is Ed. According to him, my body, along with Holly's and Bev's, had been discovered. Less than a year after my death, Ed was found guilty of three counts of murder and was sentenced to spend seventy-three years in prison. He tells me he only lasted two years when he was murdered during a riot with the prisoners and guards.

My cat mouth curved into a smile at this information.

"Well, Ed. Looks like justice has been served." I yawned and curled my sleek body beside his cage. "I'm gonna eat you, you know."

He spent many days worrying and tweeting in dismay. It was rather amusing, to say the least.

This is not the end though. Fate has a way of twisting so it can smack you clear across the face. It so happens that my "owner" had a fiancé. They married and he moved in. This is fine—he's a sweet guy and he never seems to mind petting me.

But when he moved in he brought this monstrosity of a dog with him. She's a pit bull, from what I understand. You guessed it—Sandra, Ed's wife.

She says she isn't going to eat me, but I'm leery. I can detect dislike in her cold eyes, even when she wags her stubby tail. Maybe she will eat me. But I'll be sure to eat Ed before that happens.

I wonder what we'll be in our next lives?

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