Ditch Kittens.
She is afraid, afraid of a lot actually. She worries about not being enough not being enough too for the decades to come, as If age is rust, and at some point I’ll just see her as this shriveled husk, and leave her on the road side, In the ditch, among the leaves and grass.
She calls herself shabby every chance she gets, and all I see is this beautiful creature walking into the kitchen, Falling asleep on the couch or sitting down to breakfast with me.
So I say fuck it. I say we move to a ditch.
It takes some convincing, and she’s not entirely excited about it, but we do just that. The moving van people have a constant look of confusion as I direct them where to put the couch, and please don’t place the dog bed by the culvert, and I don’t think the lamp should go by the poison ivy, but again, we do and finally we are all moved into our ditch. And you know, it takes some work, but doesn’t everything? We have to clean up the trash, bits of plastic and cans, paper, I bag it all up. Then I have to dig up all the poisonous plants. But it’s a process and finally I sit down on the couch with her and she is cuddled up under a blanket, the lamp lending a soft glow to her features as we watch the sun go down over the hills. The traffic takes some getting use to, but I feel like that’s a small price to pay to have the sky as a roof. I collect dew for tea in the morning for us. Running rags along the grass soaking up all the sweet water. Our cups steam with tea and honey. I fry up eggs and bacon and toast for us to eat.
The bathrooms are a problem. If I can I try to wait till I go to work and hop Into a gas station. Plus showers are Infrequent, as this year we are in a drought. But we get along.
It’s actually pretty nice in the ditch. Sam, the highway guy the mows our ditch lets us know when he’s coming so we can cover our stuff with a tarp. And Cindy the mail person always drops our mail off right by the road so it doesn’t get soggy in the grass.
After awhile things start to change for us. We give away our tv. Who can watch tv with such beautiful sun rises and sunsets in the background? We string up lights instead so that when the dark comes it’s a little less dark. Or sometimes we just shut them off, look up at the crystal clear sky. The stars so bright it hurts. So glittery you feel them in your heart.
At night we wait for the cars to slow down enough to make love in the tall grass. Frogs croak and cicadas drone as I take her from behind, holding onto a nearby tree as I cum inside her and slump over her back. Often times we fall asleep like that, just wrapped up inside one another as I wilt and she drips.
One morning she brings a small furball to me.
“Look at this!” She squeals, and hands me the fur ball. A small yellow kitten unfolds itself in my hand and immediately meows and starts licking its leg. I laugh and nuzzle it, my allergies already tickling my throat and nose, but it’s worth it because the warm kitten smell that comes off it is divine. I hand it back and she coos at the kitten. She holds up the kitten, solemnly, and yells to the sky
“I name you burrito!” And laughs at herself. I laugh as well. We now have a ditch kitten and after we make love at night it crawls and scampers between us and nuzzles and purrs its way into our dreams.
The thing about cats is they are all over. So we start with one, then she finds another (Guac) and another (Tortilla) and another (Queso) and another (birria) until we have a veritable tribe of cats. And they get into everything, but it is so lovely to watch them move through the grass, only their tail twitching to and fro to show where they are. And it’s not just cats she grabs. As we live our lives in the ditch she seems to get better at kidnapping small animals to increase her herd. She finds a squirrel with a broken paw (Ancho) a baby deer (Enchilada) 3 sparrows (Elote, Posole, Concha) and a turtle (Mr. Barbacoa) Not to mention our 2 dogs. (Chimi & Changa)
Sometimes she is afraid of the dark, afraid of all that empty space between us and the stars and so I hold her, and the dogs lay next to her, all the kitten, and birds, squirrels and groundhog. We all cuddle up with her under tarps and blankets. Smelling of grass and wildflowers and fur until she calms down and the dark is just the dark again. She holds me tighter and we are all right as we fall off to sleep.
Life is pretty good in the ditch. When we are hungry we eat, tired we sleep, the cats go hunting in the ditches around us. A pack of Mexican food named cats now roam the ditches. We pick wild asparagus and herbs to make soups, bits of trash become wind chimes.
Even the winters don’t slow us down, all they take is more blanket, more insulation and more light. But to watch a snow storm, no to be inside a snow storm as we drink hot tea and watch it all swirl and eddy is magnificent.
Snow plows are gentle to our ditch, but it still fills up. I buy snow shovels to push the snow out and gives us and the animals more room. The cats scratch tunnels through the snow, and I watch as whole droves of birds hop in and out of the tunnels, creating star prints in the white snow. The sunsets are different in the winter. The last light reflecting for so long all in blues and vibrant reds. She makes snow men at night so by morning we have an army of 2 foot sentry’s guarding our little ditch.
It’s a good life, a simple one. Sometimes the sheriff comes and tells us we can’t live in a ditch, we fix him a cup of coffee and sit down and chat with him. Ask home about his kids, his wife. He’s a nice man. He grumbles but eventually he stops telling us to leave and instead just drops in for coffee.
She doesn’t speak about how ugly she is anymore. Or how I’m going to leave. She just comes home, wades through the many animals until she can wrap herself in my arms and breathes me in. Sometimes it’s just a hug, and sometimes her hands and mouth are urgent as she pulls me to the ground. She doesn’t say that she is less than anymore. She is beautiful in this way. We just talk about our days, we soak in the sky and wind and trees, we absentmindedly scritch and scratch behind tiny furry ears. The birds peep and hop across our blankets till we throw some crackers.
One night we are sitting on our couch, winding down, getting ready for bed. It’s remaining out and I have a tarp up to keep the worst of the rain off us, a small stream gurgles and putters between our camp. She looks at me.
“Why did we do this? I’m not complaining, it’s rather nice, but why was this so important to do. I look at her, cats are purring around my face. Flicking their tails here and there. I throw more crumbs to the birds before I answer.
Because I love you. You were so afraid I was going to leave you, and I couldn’t figure out a way to reassure you. Nothing worked. You always talked about me just throwing you away, throwing you in a ditch.”
“Ok? But that’s doesn’t answer my quest-“
“Because I go where you go. That’s why. Wherever you are that’s where I want to be. Don’t much care if it’s fancy, as long as it’s an adventure with you. “ I say, i look up at the night sky like i have for many nights since we through away our tv.
“So we live in a ditch, my beautiful wife, because that’s where you thought you belonged, and I belong right next to you. You are mine, you are all that I want, all that I have ever wanted, for ever and ever. It’s never been about the sex…which is amazing, never been about how you look, but I don’t mind that you are gorgeous, it’s about how crazy I am for you, how complete i feel with you. ” I say. I look down at my hands and I feel her scoot up closer to me, and wrap her arms around me, all the birds flutter down, the cats find niches, birds roost on our shoulders, nothing else needs to be said. I love her. She mutters into my shoulder.
I love you too.