Kitty Litter

"Dig me up from under what is covering the better part of me. Sing this song, remind me that we'll always have each other, when everything else is gone." -Incubus, Dig

Our character enters under a streetlight. It is an orange, sodium light, but put into one of the old township's vintage cases that used to be filled by lanterns and, before that, candles. He is soaked, appropriate to the fact that it is raining like a bitch (according to him). He has just stepped off the Downtown 458 bus, and is but two brisk strides away from shelter in O'Mally's. He is haggard, or feels that way at least, and is determined to display the most gaunt, downcast, out-of-luck posture and facial description his body has ever invented. He decides to stop just short of the "I just found out I have cancer" look, to keep things inoffensive. This is Ben Carrigan, my audience, and yes ladies he is single for a self-authored book of reasons. What becomes of importance now is that he has finally prepared enough to stride doubly inside the familiar restaurant.
O'Mally's is a family pub for only the most dysfunctional of families. If you have had a recent death in the family, or have had at least two siblings come out of the closet together, there is a drink special for that (an Open Casket Concoction and the Closet Cosmo, respectively). The lighting is dim, with little but candles to help the poor souls waiting between the dangerously sharp tables. The seat cushions are all a deep maroon, and in the back the booths become rounded for especially large parties to collectively grieve. It is to one of these tables our Ben maneuvers, and though he looks as if he has just lost and entire orphanage of children to the plague, those already seated could not be more in their element. These people have had love, then loss, then another pack of cigarettes. They come here and laugh amidst tears, bleed sarcasm surrounded by imaginary black veils, and the candles dance in their eyes. And as this newly haggard man approaches their usual table, their eyes receive him just as they always have and always will, with complete knowledge and the wit of sages.
"Another shitty day on the job," Aaron throws up his glass in bidding.
"You lost another pet?" Constance is truly broken for this and every other animal Ben has never owned.
"Erectile dysfunction." That would be Desirae, eying what she likes to call Ben's "package" with curious displeasure.
"A woman," comes from the eldest man in the middle of the half-circle and closest to the wall. His beard is black at the fringes, but white continues to parade out from the roots. His eyes are a bit sunken, but only for the years put on them and not any Holocaust of hardship. He has simply fallen out, like they all have, and has on this occasion won the town goose.
Ben pleads with his eyes at the Rabbi, plays up the burden floating on his shoulders and closes the curtain in his mind by dropping his head within degrees of the table. Keep in mind he is still standing when this occurs. He hears the cackle that finds itself in Desirae's throat and hears the red leather squeak as she slides further in to make room.
"Yes, we are such a fiendish bunch, are we not Constance? We just love to prey on all the little boys out there still wishing for true love and a full wallet. Such fools they are! Such children!"
"A regular pack of vultures. Wait, is it politically correct to call it a pack if there's only two vultures? Is pack even the right term for vulture?" Aaron racks his brain.
"What is there to be politically correct about vultures?" Constance asks, wondering if it is a vulture Ben has lost so suddenly.
"Hey, vultures are people too!"
"No they're not, they're vultures!"
"You're a vulture, stupid!""What?"
"Vulture! As in you and I are vultures, preying on they! The...hell, I don't know, sun-dried lizards of the desert!" Desirae pretended to swoop down into Ben's newly-acquired draft and pick it up with fingers poised like a claw. "Ca-CAWW!"
"Give that back! I've had a shitty day, and need that to-"
"To drown your sorrows!" They collectively raised their glasses in a group clanging together.
"No, not for that, I just need-"
"Should you really be toasting that, Rabbi? I mean, to drowning your sorrows? Seems a bit out-of-line to me," Desirae's dark eyes peered just over the rim of her glass, her fingers curling around its thin shaft. The image formed in both Aaron and Ben's mind was the same as they exchanged a look that meant only one thing: succubus.
Rabbi Falk leaned back, while at the same time extending his hand to set down his own glass. A bit of froth lingered on his upper lip, but it was not something to be bothered with. He was once one of the main leaders of the local synagogue, but suffered a series of events three years back that put him on uneven footing with his God. Still, he tries to maintain the faith as best he can, but speaks to the Lord with a bit more honesty than his colleagues would have him to.
"I feel I am just as much entitled to a bit of conscious self-destruction as the vultures sitting on both sides of me, and the lizards beside them. If anything, my experiences delving the deeper emotions of the human condition give me more reason to toast that than you, my dearest Dezzy."
"But shouldn't you be fasting and praying away your troubles? Mmm?"
"Yes, that is a part of it, but we do eat and drink after the periods of not eating and drinking. You have just caught me at one of the times when I happen to be 'off duty'."
"And when you're 'off duty' as you say, this exempts you from all your beliefs and-"
"Oh let the man drink, Dezzy! Please, you just chip and chip away at the poor bastard." Aaron stared her down.
"Like a succubus." Ben said while watching the ripples in his drink. Aaron nodded his agreement.
"Like a succubus."
Dezzy slumped back into her cushion.
"Constance, aren't you going to stick up for the female race?"
"I am not a vulture!"
"And I don't the female is a race," Ben sipped.
Desirae threw up her hands, then in time one again wrapped around her drink as she brooded.
"I'm sorry, Rabbi, I shouldn't have chipped."
"You do just as you want sweetheart, I can promise you that I don't give a damn what you think or judge of me."
"That's what I find so attractive about you," her eyelashes fluttered.
"My romantic endeavors aside, who is this our Ben has been taken with and apparently dropped by?"
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"Oh yes you do, or else you wouldn't have come in with that face!" Desirae was alive again with this fresh meat.
"I can't help how I look, just don't worry about it."
"Oh, OK Mr. Martyr. I didn't mean to bother you about it. Go back to your public bleeding now."
"Down, Dezzy, down. Now sit. Good girl!" Aaron waved a piece of bread in front of her.
"I'll show you some of my other tricks later, baby."
"I pray to God that I never live to see that through. Anyway, do tell about this temptress. Is she another succubus? Surely you wouldn't fall for a succubus."
"She's not a succubus."
"Just a vulture. Like you, Constance."
"I am not a vulture!"
"More like a parrot with your generous contributions to tonight's discussion," Falk said.
"I'm sorry. I have been a bit out of it, haven't I? So what's this about Ben and some woman?"
"We were just trying to find out ourselves, honey."
All four of them leaned keenly towards Ben, who had long ago stupidly professed his general dislike of attention and close spaces. Now they lay coupled in front of him. It was unbearable.
"This is unbearable."
"Lover, we know what this is. We want to know about her."
"Please don't call me that."
"Lizard."
"That's better," he sighed so that everyone could hear. "Her name's Ellie-"
"Ooh!"
"Ellie did you say?"
"So smooth!"
"-and she works at"
"Ooh!"
"She works?"
"You got yourself a good one that'll work for herself."
"Definitely a keeper."
Ben let his head gently collide with the open space of table in front of him. Soon he felt nails tracing the back of his neck.
"I am not a scratching post."
"And I am not a cat. But these are my claws."
He sat up. "I only talked to her for a minute. I was leaving the library and she must've gotten in line behind me at the checkout."
"Wait, you don't mean what I think you mean. She talked to you?"
"Is it that surprising?"
"Yes!"
"Thank you for your confidence in my attraction. Anyway, we were just there for an instant."
"It's always just an instant."
"Yes, I know Rabbi, but I mean it in the literal sense this time too. She asked my name and said she'd seen me before. She had the most beautiful brown hair-"
"Oh please don't go on that tangent."
"Shuddup Dezzy," Aaron leaned in, "Please do go on that tangent."
"There is no tangent, I just liked her hair."
"Did you get her number?"
"No." Desirae said.
"I'm sorry, were you there tonight?"
"Did you?"
"...No."
"Same answer to your question."
"So," Falk pushed away his half-empty glass, "how are you going to see her again?"
"I was kind of hoping we would just meet at the library again."
"Yeah, all the available hot girls frequent the library like three times a week, Rabbi. Didn't you know that?" Aaron smiled.
"I did not."
"Oh, well...they do."
"OK."
"I hope you meet her again, Benny Bear." Constance beamed up at him.
"I'd rather be called Lizard, but thanks. I hope so too."
"You know what I hope, Benny-Bearlizard. I hope you meet her again, and you two share a nice little fu-" Falk reached gently over and covered her mouth.
"Those glasses really do sneak up on her," Aaron signaled for the check while Desirae pulled the Rabbi's hand off her mouth.
"No really! They could do it right there in the library, in Ancient Civilizations or-" she began to crack up, "-or they could do it in Sexual Studies!" She collapsed against Ben's shoulder, and he suddenly thought his open space on the table was very appealing again. Aaron scooted out first and helped Desirae out after Ben had exited.
"Alright, let's get this little vulture a cab."
"Hehe, Sexual Studies."
"Yes, Dezzy, you love your alliterations."
The group dispersed, Aaron taking Desirae's cab to make sure she wouldn't just ride around until she was broke, and Constance began walking down the street. Ben and Rabbi Falk both turned left upon leaving O'Mally's, and so had a chance to talk a bit more. It was the Rabbi who took advantage of it.
"I had a love once."
"You always say your only love is the Scriptures."
"Well, yes, I love them too, but I mean a woman."
"This is new."
"To you. Not to me. Problem is, I have no idea where she is right now, or if she's even alive, let alone still available."
"You could try and find her in the phonebook."
"Yes, I could, but I wouldn't. I'm not telling you this to see if you can help me, Benjamin. I'm telling you this because I'm afraid I may have saw in your eyes tonight what I had in mine so long ago."
"My mother used to call it kitty-litter. That yellow stuff in the corner of your eyes when you just wake up-"
A leather-gloved hand fell on his shoulder. The Rabbi halted him, and stood opposite his face.
"You do not have kitty-litter in your eyes. But you may have love. Tomorrow, you will go to the library, and you will see if any of the receptionists know this brown-haired girl. You will find her name, and you will with that find her number. Call her. Get the ball rolling or I will call down fire upon you."
"You can do that?"
"I'm not that far out of the faith." He began to slowly raise his hands into the sky.
"OK, OK. I'll get her name. First thing tomorrow."
"Good boy."
Ben jumped some of the steps of the landing of his apartment. Falk stayed on the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of his khaki jacket.
"You'll tell me her name the next time we meet."
"Sure thing."
"Or else-"
"Fire from Heaven"
"Straight from Raphael's ass."
The Rabbi's flat was the farthest away, and so he always walked the last length alone. He usually thought about his love, and not the Scriptures. But tonight there was almost a sense of euphoria at having possibly steered someone into that inconceivable maelstrom that is true love.

Or maybe it was just the lager.