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What a great way to spend her birthday, trudging through the pouring rain all by herself with only a thin coat draped over her backpack to protect her papers. All of her siblings had plans, minus Annie, but that wasn’t exactly an option. They were tolerant of each other, able to share a bathroom and a dining room table without a big fuss, but they weren’t close. Annie was a task to help Mother with, and then she was there, and Brooklyn was satisfied. Cairo and Mother were happy to have her around. Now, Brooklyn sort’ve wished she had been a little more friendly, because she distinctly remembered Annie taking an umbrella to school that morning. She would’ve killed for an umbrella right now.
Meow.
“Meow,” she replied instinctively. Out of all the strange noises her friends made to get her attention, it wasn't all that abnormal.
Mrrp.
Now that was not a sound her friends made. She turned around, searching for the sound, until her eyes met those of a sopping wet ball of lint. Not lint, fur. A sopping wet gray kitten, staring up at her with big, dark eyes. She knelt down, ignoring how her coat dipped into a puddle, to peer at it closer.
Mrowwwwww…
It curled in on itself, and she rocked back on her heels to give it space. Her pants were already soaked from the rain, so she sat, pulling her knees up to her chest.
“Hi there. Do you have an owner?”
She searched for a collar, but the kitten was all eyes and fur and tiny paws. Brooklyn thought she should at least take it inside to dry it off. When she reached out her hand, though, the kitten wouldn’t come any closer.
“C’mon, aren’t you cold?”
It lifted itself up slightly, but just to sort of flop over, squirming indignantly on the wet concrete. If its fur weren’t plastered to its body by the rain, it would definitely be prickling in that dandelion kinda way. Brooklyn stood, determined to find a box or something for it, if it wouldn’t let her get it out of the rain. She started walking again towards home, looking for any shops that might lend her something to make a shelter. Maybe the bakery down the road would even take it in.
Mrrrrooww.
She turned to see the little thing marching right behind her. She stopped, planning to try to pick it up again, but it stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, leaving a distance between them. She started walking again, and it did too. So that was the game, then.
“I’m home!” she called out, not expecting a response.
She left the door open as she stripped off her soaked shoes, watching the kitten wobble inside, leaving little muddy pawprints in its wake. Monty would kill her, but Brooklyn left it for later. The house would be empty for the next few hours, with everyone out on errands or at jobs or with friends. She laid out one of the bath towels Monty called “a lost cause for the kitten,” and it rolled around away from it, spreading mud and water all over the carpet, before curling up right on the center of the perfectly dry towel.
“Seriously, man?”
But it didn’t even spare her a glance, closing its eyes for a petulant nap. Brooklyn stood, searching through the pantry for something to feed it. What did cats eat? Fish or something, she decided. There was a tin of sardines tucked way in the back, but they seemed relatively fresh. She opened the can, dumping it onto a plate and placing it next to the gray king’s throne. It perked up, shoving its face, and front paws, right into the fish.
“You’re a weird dude, y’know that? I’m gonna name you Anomaly.”
Paris was the first to return home, luckily after she had cleaned up the hallway and living room from Anamoly’s chaos. Brooklyn may have never seen him so happy.
“Brooklyn, where did you find her?”
“It’s a he, I think, and it was just on the street.”
Paris scooped up the kitten, which the little jerk allowed with ease, and cradled it in his arms.
“She’s a she alright. Little reine. That should be her name, Reine.”
“His—well her—name is Anomaly.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s my birthday and I found her.”
“Well happy birthday from me and Reine.”
He carried the kitten out of the room, and Brooklyn decided she would never forgive him. He also brought her back a snickerdoodle from the best bakery in town, so she decided they could share Anomaly-Raine. With Rio, she became Anomaly-Raine-Quincy, Sydney added “Stormy,” then Cairo insisted on “Dust Bunny,” which Annie thought was pretty clever—Brooklyn knew it was anything but—and Kat insisted on calling it “Jayfeather.” A rose by any other name, or something, as long as Mother said they could keep it.