Bubbles's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Bubbles wanted one thing in this world: a warm shelter where every stray cat in Gator Brunch got fed, brushed, and loved. He had the cat food. He had the litter boxes. What he did not have was a floor to stand on, because the porta-potty he'd been fixing up as a supply closet had just swallowed him whole. The teleportapotty, he called it now. One second he was screwing a shelf into the plastic wall. The next, the door spun sideways and sucked him down like a drain. Blue chemical water sloshed over his glasses. Something ripped. He landed face-first in warm mud, coughing, both thumbs still gripping a screwdriver. He sat up and wiped his glasses on his shirt. The mud smelled sour. A cloud of flies buzzed off a puddle. Somewhere close, water dripped through leaves. Bubbles blinked at the mess around him and, honestly, felt calm. "This," he said, "reminds me of home." It did. The puddles, the smell, the busted feeling of landing somewhere you didn't plan to be. Ricky and Julian had dropped him in worse ditches on purpose. He climbed to his feet, checked that his glasses hadn't cracked, and looked up. The trees were wrong. One tree hung above him like a green waterfall, its long branches dripping ivy, blue and pink flowers glowing in the shade. Bubbles had never seen a tree glow. He pointed his screwdriver at it, just in case. Then something moved in the roots. Small. Orange. It padded toward him on black paws, and Bubbles's whole chest went soft. "Oh," he whispered. "Oh, you poor little kitty." The creature had a bright fox-colored coat and a white chest and huge dark ears. Bubbles crouched low, the way you do so you don't spook a stray. He held out one hand. "It's okay, sweetie. Old Bubbles won't hurt you. You lost too, buddy?" The kitty stepped closer. Then it wagged. Not one tail. Two. Two fluffy tails swished behind it, curling like smoke. Bubbles froze. He counted again. "That's... that's two tails, bud. Cats got one tail. That's a rule." His voice cracked. "Where the frig am I?" A shadow slid over the mud. Wind hit his face. Bubbles looked up as something enormous dropped from the sky and landed hard between him and the two-tailed cub. It had a lion's body and an eagle's head, gold feathers, a curved black beak. It folded its wings and fixed one yellow eye on Bubbles. He raised the screwdriver again. It shook. The fox cub darted behind the giant beast's leg like it belonged there. Bubbles understood then, cold in his gut. This was not Gator Brunch. This was not any trailer park. And the stray he'd tried to rescue already had a guardian, one that stood taller than Bubbles and stared like it was decided about him. "Okay," Bubbles said quietly. "Okay. New plan."