The guard killed somebody, Roci told the cat.
The cat listened hard though he did not want to.
He was only a baby, said Roci despairingly. He hardly even talked, yet. That's why he was shrieking-he was mad, and it was the only way he could tell the world how angry he was.
Roci was rocking back and forth. The guardians tried to make him stop, he said-they tried everything. They knew the owner's neighbors would complain at him, and the guard would come . . .
Roci was sobbing beneath his words. He continued, The guard wouldn't stop. I tried to yell, "Stop!" but Muri put his hand over my mouth.
Niti was screaming at everybody to shut up. I closed my eyes, but I could still hear.
He was only a baby, said Roci. And the guard wouldn't stop until the baby stopped screaming. And the baby wouldn't stop until he was dead.
Roci had no more words, now. The cat leaned into Roci as his boy rocked him. The cat had no words either.
But an idea was bothering Roci, and after waking up with the cat three hours later, Roci told him about it:
Tobi, says Roci, says that the Borrynzians even make more boy slaves than girl slaves because they know they kill more boys. The boys make more trouble than the girl slaves. They make more boy slaves so if they are too much trouble they can just kill them.
That's wrong, said Roci, that's not right. It's not right to make somebody just to kill him when he's too much trouble later.
The cat agreed, silently.
* * *
THE CAT AS FATHER FIGURE
Roci was one of the big boys now. He grew into a position of power on the playground, with authority to direct games, enforce rules and arbitrate disputes. In the workforce, he was promoted to the coveted position of lawn mower.
He saw the cat very infrequently now. Sometimes, when walking the mower along the grass border, Roci would see a flash of blue-grey out of the corner of his eye, and would feel a memory tickle. But the job would hold his attention-and he would keep on walking and pushing, and go indoors when the job was done.
On the playground, Roci learned that little kids could be very trying to his new maturity. He found they could be very hard to reason with-sometimes he thought they must have very small brains.
Roci made a unilateral rules decision near the very beginning of one early morning game. A small boy decided he didn't like Roci's call, somehow, and began to shriek at him incoherently. His unintelligible argument then devolved, logically, into a refrain of, "You're stupid! You're so stupid! You're so stupid!"
Roci took the disrespect for as long as he thought he could; then closed his fist, cocked his elbow back and released a hard punch full into the smaller boy's face. The boy hit the ground, and Roci looked suddenly and guiltily towards the tall grass.
Roci took the hard whipping from Muri, without a word, and then went looking in the tall grass for the cat. When Roci found him, the cat turned slowly around and showed his back to Roci.
I'm sorry, Roci told the cat. I'm sorry. Muri whipped me really bad; and Muri doesn't even usually whip people. I got punished really good.
The cat did not turn around.
He was acting really dumb, said Roci. He was acting really really dumb.
You're dumb, said the cat.
Roci sat down, behind the cat. He desperately wanted to explain himself to the cat. Something had been building in him for months-it had been growing in him and scaring him and he had to tell the cat about it, now.
Roci was verbally advanced-had anyone cared about talent in slaves, they might have called him verbally gifted. For the purpose of telling the cat about himself, Roci gathered all his words and began to align select ones with his formerly confused thoughts and feelings.
Violence, Roci told the cat-it's like a shadow covering the whole world in my stories, now; it fills the whole world here. Someone is always getting hurt-every day, out here; and every time, in my head. I can't ever stop thinking about it, any more. And a great dark nothing grows in me, and I feel like I have to put something big and strong there or the empty will swallow me . . .
The cat turned around.
It is hard, he confirmed to Roci, to control how you feel; it is hard not to think about bad things that are so big. But you can always control what you do, Roci; and then you will always control who you are. I expect you to not hurt others, Roci. I want you to be good. I will have to leave if you are not good.
Why?
Because you will no longer want me. You will mock me. You will think I am stupid. You will be angry at me and hate me because you will hate everything. You will have set yourself against the good in the world and will see all of it as your enemy, including me. It will be hard to find happiness after that-you might never find it after that. But if you are good it will sometimes find you. It will surprise you at times-like a star glinting suddenly out of a deeply clouded sky. And that is what I want for you, Roci. I want you to always be ready to see light.
I love you, Roci told the cat.
I love you too, said the cat.
* * *
Months later, Roci learned how old he was. He came to the cat soon after the revelation. The cat saw Roci's eyes and wondered what his boy was looking at-something invisible to the cat but still too real; something not clearly seen and frightening; something inside the boy as well. The cat waited for Roci to speak.
I am ten tomorrow, Roci told the cat. Niti just told me. The guard is coming for me tomorrow. I will get the worst beating of my life just to show me that they can. The guards and even the other slaves will do worse things, too; and I won't be able to do anything, about it.
They will try to break me until all the hope falls out, because . . . I don't know why. I don't know why they have to do that. And I can't, I can't do anything about it.
The cat said to Roci, Do you remember the first time you ran to me, after that very bad night, when you couldn't do anything about it? It was a dark night, but I asked if you thought the stars were still there. You thought they were, and I knew you were right. Remember that. Remember that night.
Remember that it's possible to create hope out of nothing but the desire to have hope.
Remember that you believe in heroes. Remember that I know you are right.
Remember that you are good; and that no one can take your goodness away from you.
Remember that one being has loved you; and will for as long as he lives.
The beautiful ideas never die, Roci. They are among the strongest things in the world. They will protect your [the cat tapped Roci lightly on the side of the head] and then you will always be able to do something about anything; and nothing will have power to destroy You. Do you believe this?
Roci choked on the word, but said, Yes.
Show me.
Roci thought for a while, and then said, How can I show you? I will never be able to see you, after.
Then show Yourself, said the cat. That will be enough for the both of us.
Roci sat with the cat all evening. He slept beside the cat overnight in the grass. When the children's meal horn blew, Roci got slowly up and walked slowly across the field to the barracks.
The cat watched the guard's walk from the men's to the children's barracks. The cat saw Roci emerge from the barracks. Roci's wrists were fastened together with brown straps, and the guard was leading him by them on a little leash.
The cat saw Roci walk forward across the field as if he meant it; his shoulders as straight as possible and himself as tall as he could be. His eyes were like still waters; his face as strong and impassive as mountain rock. But then there was a diamond glint, out of the waters and the rock, as the cat said his last words.
You believe in heroes, said the cat. And I know that you are right.
* * *
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