The Bones of Blood Work: “183”

Her shift had ended at 12:30, her co-workers tired and gone, but she liked to sit and smoke with the strays that lived in the bushes behind the drive-thru.

During the pandemic, while trying to stay productive, my mind kept taking the same dark turns. Every time I’d start a story, I knew where it would end, and it made me think, what about happiness? What about joy?

My wife and I drew together. Went on walks. Then, one morning while having coffee, I spotted a calico cat hiding underneath the pier and beam foundation of the condo next to ours. I took it as just another stray, finding a place to rest in the cool darkness, then, one day, I saw a set of kittens wrestling in the shadows nearby.

From my window, I sat and watched them every day. When their mother was out hunting for food, they would often peek out to see if she was close, crying when she suddenly came into view. When she was resting in the dirt, they stumbled around in the grass and played while she watched.

Eventually, the family started to venture out. The mother would sit in the bushes and watch the street, her kittens cuddled up near the roots. Sometimes, they would disappear for a few days, and I worried about what might happen to them, then I’d see one of them dashing behind a parked car. I desperately wanted them to survive.

And they did. For a while anyway, then I spotted a cat trap where they had made their home, and I knew what would happen next. The mother seemed to know better. She avoided it, and her kittens followed. But when she was gone, one by one, I watched each of the kittens be taken away until there was only one left. Then there was none.

That night, the mother cat paced up and down the road, crying for hours. When the rain started up, she made her way back under the foundation. I was sitting at the window watching when she finally came out, walked into the trap, and curled up against the closed spring-loaded door.

She was gone the next morning. After asking around, I found out the strays were being dropped off at a park down the road.

That afternoon, I drove out in the hopes of spotting them. They could have been anywhere—the school nearby, the boat dock across the road, or hiding in the wild brush that made up the margins of the park. Any time I was in the area, I’d park and walk around for a few minutes in the hopes of catching the mother’s amber eyes staring out at me from underneath a bench.

Blood Work and Other Stories

Releasing in June 2025. Preorder today for FREE SHIPPING!

Get Blood Work