The Meerkat - Short Story by Lorette C. Luzajic

 

The Meerkat

Short Story by Lorette C. Luzajic

 

after African Jacaranda wood carvings, meerkats

 

The meerkat showed up on a Tuesday. Alice and Alison were not expecting him. They had no idea where he came from. But there he was, on top of the paper outside the flat door when Alice went to retrieve it. Despite his dapper demeanour, he seemed a little forlorn.

Alice brought him inside.

Expecting anything, are you? she asked Alison, who was stirring milk into Earl Grey. Yes, I am, Alison said. I just put an order in for garden stuff, it’s here already, is it? Spring was just around the corner and Alison was eager to start planting seeds.

Not exactly. Alice placed the meerkat down. Well, goodness, then, Alison said. He’s a jaunty little thing, isn’t he?

The meerkat was crudely carved and left unpolished, with loose kohl circles painted around his eyes. But damn if the statue didn’t take on a life of its own! His little toenails were too cute for words and his snout seemed full of personality. The wood was light as a feather.

Neither of them could think of anyone who might have left him there, or why. Their mates were more likely to drop off organic vegetables for soup, or exotic teas, something along those lines.

Alison moved the meerkat to the window. Must be some kind of mix up, then. Lucky us! He is adorable. She positioned the mongoose between a cactus and a fern. There you go, fella, she said.  The fat red tabby, Oliver, walked over a little gingerly, sniffing the newcomer with disdain, then disinterest, and returned to his sunbeam without incident.

They finished their tea. Alice rifled through the paper, then packed up her laptop and a sweater. She kissed Alison. No more mysterious visitors while I’m at work, right, darling? she said. They both laughed.

There was no further mention of the guest creature that evening. They turned on a favourite detective series and paid it a bit of mind while Alice worked on some reports. Alison leafed through a magazine about planting herbs in small containers. They made tea again.

As on most days, Alison retired earlier with the cat, and Alice took her time, chatting on Facebook until she got tired around midnight. She crawled in next to Alison who stirred for a moment and then nestled comfortably against her.

They both slept soundly for some time, but in the wee hours, Alison grew aware of Alice sitting awake at the side of the bed, staring out the window. He’ll get lonely, won’t he? Alice said, her voice wavering with worry.

What do you mean? Alison asked, muddled by semi-sleep.

The meerkat. They’re very social animals, you know. He won’t survive on his own, will he?

Alison didn’t know much about meerkats, or about any mongooses for that matter. But she recalled from a wildlife program some time ago that they were talkative little guys. She could vaguely hear the narrator’s singsong diction on how they loved companionship. They had communities of several dozen members called mobs. The charming critters slept in huddled heaps, every which way, on top of each other.  

I suppose he could get lonely, Alison conceded. She tried to pull Alice back inside the warm covers, but Alice was too distracted.

When Alison stirred again, Alice was finally asleep, and Oliver was curled at their feet. It was almost as it always was, except Alice was holding something against her pillow. The meerkat!

Alison got up and got the kettle going, then opened the laptop and searched for “wooden meerkat sculptures.” After a few buttons, she found a similarly styled specimen. She chose one at random and clicked through to payment.

They’re made in South Africa, she said out loud as Alice shuffled in. Tea’s up, just a moment, love. She took out Alice’s favourite cup. Jacaranda wood, that’s why they are so light.

We’ll call him, Jack, then, Alice said. And just as she did every morning, she went to get the newspaper.

And there was the new meerkat, knocking at the door.

But I just pressed the button a few moments ago, Alison said in amazement.

Alice took Jack’s partner over to the window, settled her at his side. Oh, look, they are precious together, aren’t they now? We will call her Jill, won’t we?

Later that same day, Oliver was on top of the bookshelf looking out the window from up high, making his strange chirping noises at the birds. Alice gave him a pet, then took Jack and Jill from the sill.  She moved them to a different shelf beside some plants. They don’t like birds, she explained to Alison. They’re afraid of birds, did you know?

It was barely evening, and  Alison had not yet made the tea, when Alice said, Do you think they’re happy? I mean, I think they’re still lonely, aren’t they? And it must be chilly in here for them. They like to burrow, you know. They dig all day long.

I suppose they might be bored, Alison allowed. But they have each other, at least, no?

She pictured, for a moment, the flat turning into a giant sandbox, with boulders and shrubs spaced strategically about, and felt a ripple of panic. But it wasn’t the worst idea, was it, to bring the garden indoors? It could be fun, designing it for her new friends. And what wouldn’t she do, for Alice?

In the morning, there was a racket of trilling and squealing at the door. Alice opened to investigate, and a crowd of mongeese clambered inside one after the other, chattering excitedly.

Jack and Jill looked quite happy.

That night, the meerkat mob went about their tunneling and tumbling, and Alice sat up again.

What is it now? Alison asked.

They like to eat centipedes and beetles, Alice said. They like small rodents. Like mice.

Oliver pricked up his ears.

 

Lorette C. Luzajic writes, edits, publishes, and teaches small fictions, from Toronto, Canada. She has recent or forthcoming publications in Trampset, Bending Genres, Unbroken, JMWW, Cleaver, New Flash Fiction Review, The Dillydoun Review, and more. Her work has been nominated for Best Microfiction, Best Small Fictions, and four times each for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She is the founding editor of The Ekphrastic Review, a journal devoted to literature inspired by visual art. Lorette is also an international visual artist working with collage and mixed media to create urban ,abstract, pop, and surreal works. She has collectors in thirty countries so far.