Tommy was thrown out. Again. The third time in his short life. Luck just wasnt on his side.
Hed barely turned a year old and had already been passed between three families. Not exactly thrown outat first, they handed him off, one to another. Then, one day, they carried him outside, a little further from the house, dumped him in a wheelie bin, and ran. So he couldnt find his way back. Not that he tried.
He understood right away. The mans face said it all. His wife had been furious when Tommy clawed their new leather sofa. Expensive, too. Shed made the decision. The husband? Well, the husband always agreed with her.
He tucked the one-year-old cat under his arm and walked to the bins in the next street. Tommy didnt even try to follow. He didnt bother. Hed seen the sentence in the mans eyes and knew it was hopeless.
A proper goodbye wouldve been nice. A pat on the head, maybe even an apology. But no.
It felt brutal. Like tossing out the rubbish.
Tommy sighed and rummaged through the bin for scraps, nibbling on a bit of old chicken. He climbed out and sat beside the big green container, staring at the sun.
He squinted but didnt look away. The warmth from that bright circle felt good. Really good.
Those were the last rays of summer, autumn, winter. A brief thaw. The ice on the pavement melted.
But the ice in Tommys soul stayed frozen.
Evening turned to night, and the cold set in. Wind and frost got to work.
The ginger tom was freezing. He had no idea where to go, no shelter, so he burrowed into a pile of rusty-brown leaves, curling tight. At first, he shivered violently. But then
Then, as the wind whipped icy drizzle into his fur, stiffening it, the shivering stopped. A voice deep inside whispered kind words.
Words that lulled him, urging him to close his eyes and forget the pain.
“Tuck in tighter. Sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep.” And he felt warmth.
Warmth spreading through his stiff little body.
It was so simple. Just give in, and it would all be over. Peace. Eternity. No more hurt.
Tommy sighed one last time and agreed. Why fight? What for?
Tomorrow would be the samecold, hungry, and that same urge to shut his eyes forever.
Streetlamps flickered on in the distance. Tommy glanced at them one last time. He used to watch their glow from his window. The ginger tom soaked in that light, his eyes flashing in the fading dark.
That tiny gleam caught the attention of a little red-haired girl walking home with her dad. She tugged his sleeve.
“There,” she said. “Theres someone in the leaves.”
“No ones there,” her dad muttered, hunching against the cold. “Lets get home. Im freezing.”
He tried to steer her away from the dark pile. The girl shrugged him off.
“I saw it. I saw the light.”
“Light? In a pile of dead leaves?” Her dad frowned. “Thats impossible.”
But she was already there, tearing through the top layerand there he was. A ginger cat.
“Dad!” she cried.
“See? Its him.”
“Whos ‘him’?” Her dad stepped closer.
“Here.” She reached for the frozen body.
“Leave it,” he said. “Hes dead. Were not taking a dead cat home.”
“Hes not dead.” She was firm. “I *know*. Hes alive. I saw the light in his eyes.”
“Light in a cats eyes?” He sighed but crouched, lifting the stiff little form, feeling for a heartbeat.
Tommy just wanted to sleep. So badly. His eyelids were lead, warmth seeping into his bones. That voice inside kept murmuring.
*”Sleep, sleep, sleep Dont open your eyes.”*
But the girls voice, small and stubborn, kept cutting through.
“The light in his eyes.”
*What do they want? Why wont they let me rest?*
He forced his eyes open, just enough to see them.
“There!” The girl gasped. “See? I told you! The light!”
“What light?” Her dad frownedbut then stripped off his coat, wrapping the ginger bundle inside. He turned toward home.
His daughter hurried alongside.
“Dad, please, hurry. Hes freezing.”
They disappeared into the building. Moments later, a light blinked on in a fifth-floor window.
Tommy was bathed in warm water, fed warm milk. The girl begged him.
“Please dont die. Please.”
The ice on his fur melted. The ice in his heart melted.
The big ginger tom blinked, bewildered, as the man and his daughter fussed over him. He was awake nowproperly warm.
Not just from the radiators. From the girls little heart.
Outside, someone stood watching the glowing fifth-floor window.
“Thats all I can do,” he murmured. “All I can do.”
He lingered, then added,
“Not everyone sees the light. And not everyone who sees it can keep it.”
Tommy, gazing at the red-haired girl, didnt ponder the greatness of man. Thats for humans to do. He just thought his own thoughts.
Hed seen the light. The light in her eyes.
