THE CAT'S MAW

CHAPTER VI (Part 2)

"Why are you here?" the being said. The words boomed and rolled together in a cavernous growl. The surface of the pool trembled, and the sound washed over Billy like warm ocean froth.

"I'm dreaming," said the boy.

"Are you?" it said, raising a robed arm and pointing at the pool.

The words pounded in Billy's head, and he understood what he was being asked to do. He stood slowly, hands pressed against the pool's edge, and gazed into it. 

At first he could only saw water, and the dark-light pattern of interlocking stones that contained it. He looked harder, and the reflection on its surface came into focus. Billy saw the jungle's edge, and the high cliff, and the water spilling down in the distance. He saw the great robed being, mirrored upside-down in the water, its arm still raised and pointing.

Billy narrowed his gaze to focus on the pool's centre, and saw the sky. The blue dome high above had turned black in the reflection, but the points of light still shone within it. He watched them move and shift and realign, until the last three slid into place, gleaming along their familiar curve.

Billy knew what it was -- from the real world and from his dreams – the constellation Orion.

The stars flared, and storm clouds converged upon them. Forks of lightning blazed through the vision's sky, and flooded the pool with light. In a flash, the water churned into a raging sea. The skies shrieked, the seas groaned, and three black mountains rose on the horizon. And there in the heart of the storm, flung about like a child's toy by wind and wave, was where Billy first saw it...

A sailing ship.

Lightning crashed, and the scene burned away. The boy squinted but wouldn't avert his gaze. He knew there was more hiding in the pool's depths. There was something else waiting for him and him alone.

The pool's bottom disappeared, and bubbles began to rise from the blackness. They clung to the surface and linked together, changing shape and colour to make a moving image in the water. A scene.

The vision formed, bright and clear in the pool. The boy's heart sank when he understood.

Billy saw himself, lying on the cot in his home. There was light creeping through the blinds and casting long shadows across the living room. There was a small towel folded on his forehead, and droplets falling from his ears. There were gruesome bumps on his face and neck and arms.

The boy had never seen himself like this, for no normal mirror could reveal what was being shown to him. He was being laid bare, and the secret shame that he carried was written on every curve, and bone, and pore of him.

Billy Brahm wasn't special. He was just a sad little boy that was too strange, and too weak, and too frightened to be loved. Or, perhaps, to even be alive.

A single tear fell from his eyes, dripping from his chin and into the pool. A tiny wave skimmed across its surface, rippling the vision.

Something changed then. A blur of white and black leapt into the scene from the shadows. It settled at the foot of the boy's bed.

The cat. 

"He's back," Billy was tearful, reaching out to touch it. "He came back."

"You are sick," the robed being still loomed by the pool's edge. The words hung in the air, heavy and grave.

"I'll get better," said Billy, hearing the doubt in his own voice, "won't I?"

"You have help," the thing said, "but not enough."