Me and my best friend Kit were doing what we always like to do best on Friday nights.
We sit on our favorite bench in our favorite park and watch the lanterns flicker on just as the Sun sets.
The lanterns are old and I think they use those new bulbs that are supposed to last for a year but they still buzz and click before the lights pop on.
” Are you going to give it a try tonight?” Kit asked me.
” I dunno.”
” Well. It was your New Years Resolution. It was your only resolution. Are you seriously going to not even try?”
The lanterns buzzed and clicked and like magic the lamp posts glowed to life.
I stood up. Squared my shoulders. l lifted up my chin and closed my eyes.
” Oh for Pete’s sake what is the point?” I asked. ” It’s not going to make me taller or cute or thinner or sexier or smarter. ”
” It’s all about follow through Hamish. Go on. Give it a try.”
” This is stupid. ”
” Yes. But you swore on your Mother’s grave you’d do this. So get to it.”
We were talking about my Mother now and she was pretty damn great as far as Moms went.
When Mr. Finch and his two sons tried to put a bullet between my eyes because I was different and touch on the emotional side when I heard Mozart and I was and still am fond of wearing pastels and getting mani-pedis, it was my Mom who took matters into own hands and wiped the deck with all of them.
” I’d do it again Pumpkin ” she said as Doc Frances set her broken arm and taped her cracked ribs. ” Now, go on downstairs and see about dinner, would you? Doc helped me bring it in- on top of everything else he’s done for us tonight.”
” I could eat a horse. ” Doc Frances said. ” Patching you up is hard work Domino.” he told my Mom.
Before anyone could say another word I turned tail and raced downstairs to the kitchen. I was determined to make the best dinner ever for my Mom- my beautiful brave Mom- and I did.
” Okay. For Mom. ” I squared up, closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
My first one ever since I turned in a Werewolf over 60 years ago, like everyone in our family does when they turn 10 years old.
” How’s it feel?” Kit asked. He stood up on his hind legs and pushed his paws against my chest. He nuzzled at my chin the way cats do.
I exhaled a small jet of air from my lungs into his face.
” God.” Kit flinched and sneezed and gagged. ” What is that. I mean it Hamish. Did something crawl in their and die?”
” I don’t think so. I think it was something I ate.”
We looked into the bushes behind our bench.
I shrugged, Kit flicked his tail.
” Well. Be that as it may, you kept your New Years Resolution, you took your first breath in sixty years. Congratulations Hamish.”
” Happy New Year to you Kit. Now let’s go see about dessert, shall we?”
The real life Hamish and his BFF “Kit ” Micey. Photo A.M. Moscoso