Companions by Emily Rushing Fish by Megan Andrews

2nd

Companions by Emily Rushing

“Man, I wish I had a dog like Noah,” Charlie said. I glanced over at my fluffy mutt, his black folded ears flapping as he trotted happily beside us. His tongue was rolling over his bottom lip, flopping with his movements, and his tail was high in the air, wagging softly. “Why?” I asked. “He’s adorable!” “Dumb as a post, too.” “Elliot!” “What? He knows it too, don’t ya, bud?” I replied, looking over at Noah and scratching behind his ear. He huffed and leaned into it, tail wagging harder and mouth splitting open into a dog version of a smile. “Elli, that’s not fair.” “Says who?” “Me.” “Well, nobody needs your opinion anyway.” Charlie nudged me playfully with her shoulder, and I scoffed. We continued walking deeper into the oak woods in a comfortable silence before she spoke up. “How’d you get Noah anyway?” “Found him digging in a trash can,” I answered, patting his back. “He kept coming back so my sister and I put food out. He started eating that and one thing led to another and voilà! The idiot is ours.” “You really shouldn’t talk about him like that.” “Truth hurts.” “Elli.” I rolled my eyes. “If I had a pet, I’d—” “Baby it?” I interrupted. “What? No!” “Don’t lie to me, yes, you would! You already baby Noah.” I raised my voice to a higher pitch. “Hey, baby, oh you’re so sweet, yes, you are, oh, you deserve some bacon, don’t ya? Aww, yes, you do!” Charlie crossed her arms. “I don’t do that.” “Yep, and birds don’t fly, and Noah doesn’t like swimming, and The Blues Brothers isn’t the greatest musical of all time, and—” “Oh my lord, shut up,” Charlie said, shoving me. I grinned and elbowed her back, and we

continued to play fight until Noah barked, alerting us that we had arrived at our destination: The lake. Ever since we were nine, Charlie and I have been coming to this lake. We discovered it on a field trip, and after realizing it wasn’t too far from our houses, we decided to claim it as our hangout spot. Five years later, we’re still going, except this year, we had a guest. Noah. He loves water, hence his name, but he loves it almost too much—I remind you he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. There have been multiple times where he goes under a log in the water and tries to Eddie Hall his way to oxygen by pushing up against it instead of just going around it. Luckily Charlie loves to be around him, so she’s always there to help. I don’t go in the lake that much. I like to dip my toes in every now and then, but not full on cannonball like Charlie does. She teases it for me too, calling me ‘scaredy cat’ and ‘wimp’, but I’d much rather be a scaredy cat than sopping wet and dripping with freezing water. Within seconds, Charlie and Noah were leaping into the lake, leaving me to drop their towels (and some treats for Noah) on the grassy shore and sit, the water only coming to my ankles and across my shins, just the way I liked. But I should’ve known—Charlie gets bored easily. And I have a short temper. I squinted my eyes to protect them from the sun, but as soon as I did, Charlie swept her arm through the surface of the water, splashing me. She didn’t stop there—no, no, she kept going until I was soaked from head to toe in freezing water. “It feels nice, doesn’t it?” she called, laughing softly. I spit the freshwater out my mouth, and she bursts into laughter, like I’m John Mulaney and she’s sitting in the front row, taking in all of my comedic genius. I open my eyes and realize I can’t see anything. My hair has covered my vision, sticking to my face like glue. I push it to the side, wiping the water out of my eyes and staring at Charlie. She soon grows quiet, chuckling nervously. I stand up, run a hand through my hair, and pull it up into a high ponytail with the rubber bands on my wrist. After that, I crack my knuckles and roll my shoulders, and Charlie’s eyes grow wide. She starts swimming away. I pounce on her, shoving her underwater and cackling evilly. Her words were morphed, but I could just about make out: “Foul play! Foul play!” This wasn’t foul. It was totally fair. She grabs my arm and yanks me to the side, sending another tsunami of water onto my face with a flick of her wrist. I wiggle out of her grasp and turn to the side, diving underwater. My feet are still up in the air, and I slap them against the water as fast as I can, hopefully drowning her in splashes. I feel hands on my ankles and suddenly I’m pulled to the surface with someone punching my shoulder. I shake the water out my hair, quickly rub my eyes, and proceed in slapping the absolute

snot out of her. One bark. Two barks. Three barks. “Stop, stop, stop,” Charlie demanded, holding my wrist as my hand went down to punch her arm. “What?” Barks. Aggressive, sharp barks. With only a quick glance at each other, we jump out of the water and start bolting, Charlie quickly gaining more speed than me. She was a head taller than me, with long legs too, but I had the voice. “Noah! Noah!" I yelled, hoping, praying, that he was safe. Did he get stuck in a bush? Did something attack him? Wait, was he in the woods? Or was he back in the lake? Two more barks, and Charlie alerted me, “Over here!” She took a hard left and ran parallel to the shore, and I panted and followed her, the pit in my stomach growing every second. I saw Charlie trip and fall her to her knees, and I sped up to help her, but halted. She was hugging Noah like her life depended on it, while he was barking and trying to launch himself at a tree. I scanned the tall oak tree. Rich, shamrock colored leaves covered everything except the trunk and the thick roots protruding out the ground, and Spanish moss hung down in huge clumps, some so long they almost touched the floor. A cat was sitting at the base of a high branch, it’s body lodged between the intense amount of foliage and sharp wood. It was clearly stuck, but its piercing yellow eyes stared at me like I was a meal made by Gordon Ramsey and it was starving. Noah growled at the cat, and I turned to Charlie. “Go get our stuff.” “The towels? Why?” “And the treats. I have an idea.” “What? For what?” I gestured at the tree. “There’s a cat in the tree, now can you go?” “A cat? Where?” “Charlie.” She blinked and nodded, a slight frown tugging on her lips. She slipped her fingers under Noah’s collar and pulled him along, breaking into a jog. Noah didn’t appreciate it, his ears still back and teeth still barred, tail straight out. He tried lunging once again at the tree, barking a couple times before Charlie eventually pulled him back and disappeared into the forest. I turned to the cat, squinting my eyes to see if it had a collar. It was hard to see with all the leaves and bark in the way, so I gave up, and looked to the closest branch to me. There was

a fork in the main trunk where a branch split off, and if I got into that, I could climb up the tree and eventually get under the cat and get it down. That won’t work. I doubt grabbing the cat would make it happy, and carrying it all the way back without losing balance from all the hisses and scratches you would receive? Impossible. Do you think cats know the difference between cat treats and dog ones? “Here!” Charlie called from behind me, tossing me the towels. I caught them, and I could see the treats in her soaked pocket. Oh, yeah. I forgot I’m still sopping wet. And freezing. “Now, seriously, what are we going to do?” I narrowed my eyes at the lack of a black and white dog. “Where’s Noah?” “I gave him a treat and calmed him down. His collar is attached to a dead bush.” “Can’t he just pull and break the bush?” Charlie was silent for a moment. “So what are you planning to do with that stuff?” she asked. I looked back at the cat. “I think I can climb the tree, but there are some branches I can’t reach.” “So let me do it. I’m taller than you.” “And about as graceful as a stoned toddler.” She smiled slightly. “Touché.” I gripped one end of each of the towels and tied them together tightly, hoping they would hold and get me up. Two towels tied together would’ve been enough, but I added the other just to be sure. I put Noah’s treats in my pocket, hoping the cat wouldn’t be stubborn enough to deny wet dog treats. “Be careful,” Charlie warned. “No promises,” I replied, draping the string of towels over my shoulders and walking toward the tree. I lodged my foot in the fork of the tree, rocking back on my other foot before using the momentum to boost up and balance on my one foot in the tree. “Elli!” “What?” I asked, whipping my head toward her. “The cat moved,” she said, shifting silently and squinting to see where it went. “Where?” “Uh, higher up. You sure you don’t want me to do it?” I sighed, staring up and debating with myself. If I went, it would take me longer to get up and give the cat a longer chance to jump down and hurt itself. If Charlie went, she might use the towels less and not scare the cat. But my ego… “Fine,” I grumbled, jumping backwards. I landed and begrudgingly handed the towels to Charlie, who scoffed and pushed them back into my hand. I raised an eyebrow. “Confident now,

are we?” “Not at all,” she replied, jumping into the fork. I saw her foot scrape harshly against the bark, and I knew that had to hurt. “Charlie,” I warned. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” I narrowed my eyes, watching her carefully. She grabbed another branch and pulled herself farther up the main trunk, and I asked, “Do you know where the cat is?” “Not a clue.” “Oh sweet Jesus, you idiot,” I said, jogging around the tree, straining my eyes to see the cat in the high branches. I heard Charlie laugh fondly, and I couldn’t help but smile too, but it didn’t last long before—“I found it!” “Where?” “In the tree.” “Elliot.” I smirked. “Fine, fine, it’s uh, more to your left.” She climbed farther up the tree before straddling a branch, pushing some moss out her way, and shimmying forward. Reaching for the branch above her, she hauled herself up, and before I could warn her the branch snapped and— “Charlie!” “Argh!” In a flash, Charlie slipped off the branch she had been straddling, but through some miracle, managed to grab it, so now she was upside down and hugging it like a koala, but instead of being cute and sleepy, she was hanging on for dear life like Alex Honnold, though he was much more graceful. “Are you okay?!” I asked, running under her. “Ye...yeah.” I squatted down and put my elbows on my knees and head in my hands. “You idiot.” “Sorry.” “Check. Check before you climb.” “Okay.” We were silent for a moment. “Do you see the cat?” Charlie asked, seemingly paralyzed with shock. Maybe she got the wind knocked out of her when she hit her stomach. I stood up. I could see a dark figure in between the deep green, but before I could tell her, it meowed loudly. Well. More like screeched. “You might wanna hurry.” “Yeah,” Charlie agreed, grabbing the top of the branch and pulling herself up. She decided

to try a thicker, sturdier looking branch, and I smiled as she tested it before putting her weight on it. The cat meowed again, longer this time, and more pleadingly. It did it again, and again, and again—until all you could hear were its agonizing screams. Charlie started climbing faster, and faster, and faster—and soon she was only a few yards under the creature, who had quieted down to silence once it had noticed the girl come closer. “Be careful,” I called. “I will, I will, but one question.” “Yeah?” “How do I get her down?” The treats. The treats. I stuck my hand into my pocket. “Bad word,” I mumbled. “Yeah… you still have them. What do I do?” “Uh… your best.” “Thanks.” I watched as Charlie patted the branch she was on, hopefully enticing the cat enough to make it hop down. She pinched her pointer finger and thumb together, resembling that she was holding something, and she slowly stood up and put her foot on the branch under her, shifting downward. And with another miracle, I saw the dark cat jump on a branch a couple feet above Charlie’s head. What the—?! I heard Charlie clear her throat before clicking her tongue and shifting to the branch below her. The cat didn’t move for a few moments, but when Charlie rubbed her fingers together, it became enticed again, and leapt closer to her. Am I seeing things? Did I take something? Am I possessed? By Beetlejuice? Slowly, the pair crept down the tree, and I narrowed my eyes on Charlie. “Like a phantom in the night,” she said, smirking, before finally jumping to the ground. The cat stayed on a low branch, eyeing me suspiciously. I scoffed. “I could’ve done that.” “Not as quickly.” “Really? I bet I could beat your time, thanks to your little fall.” She rolled her eyes. “I still got the cat.” I ignored her. “Do you think she’ll take the treats?” “Worth a shot. You can do it, and I’ll go get Noah.” Before I could reply, she took off into the woods, and the cat and I entered a staring contest. The cat was a beauty, and I would’ve said so if not for my ego. It had a rich, black coat

with small splotches of fiery orange, along with a white underbelly and neck. It had piercing green eyes that matched the leaves almost perfectly, and I have to say, if I saw that pattern on any other animal I’d say it was going to lead me into the underworld. Now that I looked at it, I could tell it was a female, but I didn’t dwell on it too long. I pulled the wet treats out my pocket and crouched down, tossing them between us. She glanced down at it and whisked her tail back and forth. I stayed still and silent, and after a few moments she jumped down and sniffed at the treats before licking them and pulling back. I could imagine her disgusted face. “Hey, Elli?” I heard Charlie call from somewhere nearby. “Yeah?” I asked, standing up and looking around. “I’m right here.” A hand poked out from behind a tree to my right. I eyed the cat before heading toward Charlie. I went behind the tree and froze. She was holding Noah in her arms, his head thrashing and teeth bared. He was growling lowly, and I raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “Can you take Noah home, and I can get the cat?” “Sure. Are you going to keep her?” “Her? Um, maybe. I’ll ask my mom, but seriously, who in their right mind would deny my puppy dog eyes?” I won’t admit this, but she’s basically a relative of Puss in Boots. I rolled my eyes anyway. “Alright, give him here before he starts barking.” And just like that, he let out a bark, and we heard the scurrying of the cat as she ran back up the tree. Charlie quickly gave him to me, and I stumbled under his weight for a second before regaining my balance. “Are we gonna meet back up?” she asked. “Uh, sure. I’ll put Noah back and we can meet at your house. Get her food and water situated.” Charlie nodded vigorously. “Thanks, Elli. I can’t wait to get Bark’s collar! What color should it be?” I blinked. “Bark?” “Yeah! Bark the cat. Y’know, ’cause we found her in a tree. And cats don’t bark. It’s kinda funny, right?” I scoffed and pulled on Noah’s collar lightly as he gave another round of yelps. “I wouldn’t expect anything less weird from you.” And with that, I started to carry him off into the woods towards home.