Chapter Text
The rest of their Sunday was uneventful: Carlos made them a late breakfast, then fed the creature while Cecil took a nap to catch up from the night before. When Cecil woke, he took the next feeding, and then searched online for some black kitten snap shots to seed his Facebook page with in case the HOA was snooping his social media profiles. Carlos only had to remind him a couple times about putting it back in its box and not cuddling it too much.
“But it’s asleep. It’s not like it knows I’m holding it.” Cecil’s eyes flashed hopefully over his boyfriends face, reading the raised eyebrows and the small crooked smile. “Oh fine! Look! I’m putting it back. All alone. Just tiny it, in its box…”
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“It is not a fox. But it’s not like it obviously looks like something else.” Carlos explained as he weighed samples of the top soil from the Whispering Forest. He was at the lab processing the humus collection with Rachelle.
“That’s annoying about the HOA. But you’ve seen baby rodents and kangaroos — they look like naked fetuses.” Rachelle shrugged.
“Yeah, but this has hair, and specifically, it should have a shape. A definitive shape. I swear it looks different every time I see it. And that’s saying something considering we’ve only had it over the weekend.”
“Babies grow quick.” She labeled a sample tray. “I’m sure the lady at the shelter knows what’s what.”
Carlos snorted. “You’ll have to forgive me if I question the opinion of a volunteer who nannies arachnid puppies and snacks on dog treats.”
Rachelle ignored this. “Carlos. Is Khoshekh feline?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?”
“We borrowed his brush and ran a DNA test…”
“So…” She held out her palms gesturing to the forest samples they were about to test for human DNA.
Carlos rolled his eyes at himself. “Look. I never told Cecil about that, and if I do it in this situation, he’s going to think I just want to prove him wrong and say ‘I told you so’.”
“Do you?”
He laughed. “Actually, no. I don’t really care — it’s just… ….it’s so… It’s weird. Seriously, you just need to see it. Trust me. If you see it, you’ll want to know for sure too. Scientific imperative.”
Rachelle dropped her scoop and tongs into an autoclave. “But if we were to run a test and get a definitive answer, would you be able to not let on if Cecil is wrong?”
“Are you calling me a know-it-all? Wait. Don’t answer that.”
“Where is this mysterious thing now?”
“Cecil’s got it until his show. He’s going to drop it by here on his way in.”
When Cecil arrived with the animal, Rachelle just nodded and smiled as he gushed to her about how sweet it was, how much it ate, how soft its fur was and how he hated to leave it. “It’s almost like you can see it growing!”
“Cecil. It’ll be fine. Go to work.” Carlos pecked his cheek and wrested the box from his hands.
When his boyfriend was gone, he set the container down and let Rachelle turn back the flaps and lift the blanket. They both gasped: Carlos because it had doubled in size and Rachelle because, well, because.
“Are those flippers? Is that a spiracle? Oh never mind — just get me a swab.”
The rest of the week continued with the two of them trading off keeping the animal while the other was at work, with the exception of it spending a few overlapping hours at the lab at the end of Carlos’s work day. Cecil argued that he could get away with taking it to the station. “There are cats in the men’s room and no one seems to mind,” He pointed out, but Carlos didn’t think Station Management would indulge Cecil in interrupting his broadcast to warm formula or burp the thing. Also, the DNA test was inconclusive, so he and Rachelle had a rigorous and very scientific data collection routine to adhere to, making feeding and behavioral notes, taking progressive developmental photos of it, and bookmaking for the speculative betting pool amongst the rest of the team.
By the end of the week the thing had several more nondescript appendages, longer thicker fur, a few chitinous scales, and had gone from mouse-sized to about the size of a healthy eggplant, and was roughly the same shape when it slept. When awake, it was as amorphous as an amoeba.
“I think I’m going to run it by the shelter in the morning.” Cecil said over dinner on Friday. “I’ve been emailing with that volunteer and she suggested a check-up. You know, to weigh it and see if it’s ready for different food.”
Carlos nodded and chewed, not mentioning that he could tell Cecil the creatures incremental weight changes down to 6 to 12 hour intervals. “Sounds good.”
“Also, I don’t know if it should be moving around more? Sometimes it just sits in the box and sometimes it kind of gloms on the sides. Like it’s depressed.”
“Cecil, it’s a baby. They sleep a lot.”
“I think it’s lonely. Babies need to be held.”
Carlos had stopped saying anything to Cecil when he stroked and fussed over the thing after a feeding. He sort of thought of that as it’s reward after it spent a couple hours in the sterile lab environment being analyzed by he and Rochelle, but he hadn’t considered it as possibly a developmental necessity. If they knew what it was, they could mimic parental behavior, like the zoologists who used bird puppets to feed raptors…
“Maybe you should ask her about that. I mean it has fur and it drinks milk, so scientifically it must be a mammal, or mammalish? Physical contact is a requirement for mammals.” Carlos glanced over at the box feeling a twinge of guilt.
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At bedtime, Carlos brushed his teeth and stripped down to boxers before climbing beneath the covers. Cecil had already washed up, but like every night, he was arranging his bloodstones in a small circle by the bed to sit cross-legged in the center to chant. Carlos stretched and laid his head on his arm to watch and listen; he’d done yoga with a room mate that was very into Ohm-ing and whatever that breathing was called, and found Cecil’s nightly ritual relaxing.
About halfway through his second round of intonation, there was a soft ‘clomp’ sound near the bathroom. Cecil opened an eye to peek over, but kept chanting, and Carlos saw the thing’s box had tipped on its side and the creature was sort of wibble-ing and oozing towards Cecil. At last it paused in its effort, hitched up its bulk and stood on two twig-like multi-jointed legs and tottered into the circle, tripping on one of the stones as it reached its goal.
Cecil didn’t even break breath or pause. He nudged the rock back into place with a toe and gathered the creature to his chest to continue chanting with his hands folded in prayer position and the thing cradled in the crook of his elbows.
When he finished, he quietly moved across the dark room to tuck it back into its box before slipping into bed.
“You think it’ll stay in there now?” Carlos sidled up behind him being the big spoon.
“Sure. Now that it’s quiet.”
Carlos nosed the back of his neck playfully. “So it just likes your chanting?”
“Uh huh. Lots of creatures like my voice.” Cecil smiled, a touch smugly. “Humans and otherwise. I’m told it’s very calming.”
“Mmmhmm.” Carlos trailed his lips lightly up his boyfriend's neck, feeling him shudder, and before placing a small kiss at the base.
“That,” Cecil purred, “Is the opposite of calming.”
The scientist selected a new spot and nipped softly. “Ahh…” Cecil’s breath hitched and he heard Carlos snicker. “But still very nice. I think you’re right. Physical contact is a requirement for mammals.”
Carlos cinched his arm around Cecil’s waist and squeezed, rubbing his cheek against the back of his neck, his shoulders. “I know I’m right.” He grinned. “But hey,” His voice, still soft, took on a serious tone. “When you take it in the morning, wait until I go out for my jog. I can text you if Janice or any HOA members are out trolling around.”