Tammy, Tabby

Her face was paradoxical - seeming at once childlike and strangely aged; possessing both the painful wrinkles of experience and the sparkling, curious eyes of innocence. It was a weathered face, with expressions as varied, ancient, and fresh as the weather: one moment wreathed in dark cumuli; thin, gray eyebrows furrowed, small nostrils gently flaring, and an altogether shadowy aspect - the next: clear and bright with a sunny smile turning her surprisingly generous lips upward to reveal small, square teeth.
Such a smile now illuminated her facial landscape. Tammy, for that was her name, knelt in a crowded street, stroking the matted fur of a stray tabby. Moments passed, with Tammy absently stroking the pitiful covering of that skeletal, purring creature. Abruptly, her beaming smile was fogged over with a quiet scowl of deliberation. She suddenly seized the cat, pressing it tightly against her chest and rising at the same instant. Cat in arms, Tammy walked down the busy downtown street, not pausing to glance at any of the tantalizing advertisements, autumnal reddening and gilding of foliage, shop window displays, or harried fellow-pedestrians occupying her surroundings. As she strode down the sidewalk, a leaf fluttered down from a nearly naked, skeletal tree, exposing the scantily-clad branches even further. It crossed her path mid-air to land in a gutter on the curb. Tammy stopped and picked up the vivid leaf, twirling it between her thumb and forefinger. She let out a soft laugh - which was quickly stifled in self-mastery and alarm as she suddenly became aware of the city’s populace and therefore, suspicious of anyone witnessing the golden leaf flashing in her gnarled hand. She hurriedly pocketed it, covertly walking towards the end of the block, tabby held close. Her step was more quick and purposeful, if possible, and soon carried her to her apparent destination: a tall brick building with a large sign: “Helping Hands Home: Serving Mentally Disabled Adults Since 1974.”
Tammy opened the large front double doors with a key hanging from a lanyard around her neck, juggling the cat between arms. She cautiously inched open the door, on which a notice read, “No Smoking. No Pets.” and peered inside the reception room. The tabby yawned with a meow and curled its tail around Tammy’s nose, creating a sort of momentary pseudo-mustache.
“Shhhh!” Tammy admonished the cat, “You aren’t allowed in here. You gotta be quiet if wanna stay with me. You want to, doncha?” The words tumbled out; rushed, hushed. Tammy clamped her hand over the tabby’s mouth and gently kicked the door the remainder of the way open, head swiveling to ensure that her less than honest actions remained unobserved, vaguely reminiscent of a disgruntled owl. The reception room housed the home’s only television, which was almost always in use. Today was no exception - but fortunately, the backs of all of the viewers were to the entrance. If Tammy was silent enough, she and the contraband cat would not be noticed. She held her breath, gripped her hand more vice-like over the mouth of the cat - who was now struggling furiously, and tip-toed across the room to the stairs. She opened the door to the stairway, her heart barely thumping in her extreme effort for absolute silence, and slowly closed it behind her. Once the door clicked, she released a pent-up whoosh of air and bounded up several flights of stairs, hand still held tightly over the tabby’s mouth. Finally, blood racing, mind blank, large lips partly open, and chest and cat heaving, Tammy reached her floor. She opened the door leading into her hallway and looked left and right, as if preparing to cross a congested freeway. After several swift, alternating glances, and a tightening hand over the tabby’s mouth, she raced to her door, threw it open, and jumped inside, wheezing and flushed. She tenderly released her prize, setting the cat on the ground. It lay limp, motionless, breath stolen by the frightened, fervent, knotted hand of a childlike woman. Tammy’s brows furrowed momentarily, then her face relaxed into a small smile. She walked out of the room, back down the stairs, and joined the crowd in front of the TV.