The Flip Side

Hall Jameson

 

 

       One

I pranced along the ceiling beam, my tail upright. Below, the sun-soaked Basking Room overflowed with felines in every color. The room contained posts with frayed sisal, litter boxes, and scattered toys. Carpeted shelves lined the walls, forming steps and ledges for navigation and exercise.

I had arrived in a box with an orange kitten the Keepers called Carrot and a speckled kitten they called Dot. Me, they called mostly, OhNo! but sometimes, StopThat! or GetDown!

Dot’s spotted blue face turned up to me; her pupils were large. You shouldn’t be up there.

Carrot paced the windowsill. Please come down. You’re going to fall.

I wasn’t quite sure how to get down, so I strutted along, batting a dust bunny. About five feet away there was a beam parallel to mine. I wiggled my bum and sprang.

Weeee! I was flying! My front paws landed on the rafter, but my back legs slid off. I hung by one paw then plummeted toward the floor. I twisted acrobatically and landed on my feet.

Yes! Stuck the landing!

I looked around, expecting praise and adoration from my fellow residents, but the Basking Room was gone. Instead, a carpet of sand led to a vast body of water that sighed as it touched the shoreline. A gentle breeze caressed my fur. My front paws were nestled in soft white sand.

I turned. Wide stone steps led to an enormous stone temple, its pillars covered in sisal. Felines were everywhere, lounging on stone walls, curled up in arched windows. An elegant cat with brilliant green eyes padded down the steps. Her shining bronze coat rippled.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“Feline Paradise,” she said. “We call it the UpSide, but it has many names: Catopia, the RealWorld, Planet Felis, the Great Pride in the Sky, etc.

I pawed at my face. “Why are there weird sounds coming out of my mouth? Why am I here?”

“In the UpSide, we can talk. We’re studying the places where we’re not the dominant species. You volunteered during your last reincarnation to be a part of that.” She cocked her head at me. “Do you remember what life number you’re on in the Flip Side?”

“What are you’re talking about?!”

“Ah, a first lifer.”

A small beige card appeared in the air, and Green Eyes punctured a hole in it with her claw. She gave it to me. “One life down, eight to go. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your entry point.”

“I’d rather stay.” I said, looking up at the temple. “I need to get Carrot and Dot though. They’d love it here.”

“Sorry, the studies strictly follow the Nine Lives Rule, otherwise we’d never get any data, with how often we get ourselves into ‘situations’. So go back, enjoy your time, and we’ll see you next time.”

“You mean I have to fall eight more times before you let me stay?”

“You won’t remember us on the Flip Side, so you won’t think to do that. You’re probably at the vet’s getting fixed up as we speak.” She stopped and lifted her chin. “Wow. Check out that beautiful view.”

I looked at the water, and was dazzled by the sun’s rays dancing off its surface. I closed my eyes. My head felt strangely heavy and my right hip ached.

I opened my eyes. The last thing I remembered was flying through the air. I stood on wobbly legs and tried to turn my head, but something blocked me. Ugh. I had a plastic cone around my neck.

A nose touched my face. You’re okay now. Carrot was curled up on a cushion next to me.

I pawed at the horrible cone. Why is this thing on me? My leg itches.

Don’t scratch. Dot sat next to me. The Keeper with the cold hands put it on. You hurt your hind leg when you fell.

Pouting, I sank to my belly while Carrot licked my face.

 

        Two

I sat by the Basking Room door, waiting for Carrot. The Keepers had taken him from his sleeping cage early that morning. I hated it when they took him.

When the Keeper entered, cradling Carrot, I pranced over, relieved and delighted.

Carrot was smaller than me, skinny, with a dull coat and pale gold eyes. He had sleepy winks, a runny nose, and had been battling a nasty case of ear bugs.

I touched my nose to his. Feeling better?

He pawed at his ears. They put drops in my ears! Yuck!

I gave the top of his head several licks. Come on. We’ve been defending Crinkly Snake against the little ones. We walked to where Dot was lounging in the sun, Carrot’s toy beside her.

Carrot stretched out on the floor between us, his eyes half shut. I missed you guys.

As I started to doze, a Stranger entered the Basking Room, taking in the space with soft eyes. I had seen the expression before and knew what it meant.

Someone was leaving.

Her gaze fell upon Dot, and the corners of her mouth rose. She knelt, ignoring Carrot and me, and stroked Dot’s coat. Dot purred happily as the Stranger scratched her neck.

I headbutted Dot. Don’t encourage her.

“You’re so cute,” the Stranger said, picking up Dot and leaving the room.

And just like that, my friend Dot was gone.

 

I paced the Basking Room. I stopped in front of Carrot. I didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye.

It’s okay. I bet she’ll have a great new home. Want to play with Crinkly Snake? You’ll feel better.

Naw. I need some alone time. I nudged open the door Dot’s kidnapper had left unlatched. I slipped out and slinked down the corridor.

I paused by a room where a Stranger crouched beneath the sink, working on something through a hole in the wall. He stood, grumbling, and stomped from the room.

A tunnel! I squirmed through the narrow space, inching my way forward. A minute later, there was rapping on the wall behind me, and suddenly, the light winked out.

I had no choice but to keep moving. Surely there was an exit.

I lost track of time. I may have dozed; I don’t remember. Hours passed. Days even? I wasn’t sure, but my tummy started grumbling, and my mouth was dry.

And then I saw it: a soft glow ahead.

I squirmed towards the light. It gradually brightened and the space widened. I trotted forward and came out into open air.

Sand caressed my paws; precious sunlight covered me like a blanket. Memories of the Upside came rushing back. Perhaps I could hide and—

“Punchcard, please.” I slumped. It was Green Eyes. I gave her my card, which had suddenly appeared in my mouth. She poked the card with her claw. “Life Number 2. Back to the beach with you.”

“Can I get a drink first? I’m so thirsty.”

“Sure,” she said, leading me to a circular pool filled with cool water. When I had drunk my fill, I looked up and there was Carrot on the other side of the water dish.

You were in the Solo cage forever. I was so worried.

I shuddered as I recalled squirming through the darkness, the spider webs, the dusty pipes, and a spark of light.

Carrot nudged a bowl of crunchies toward me.

Eat. You’re almost as thin as me.

 

        Three

I liked to welcome new arrivals to the Basking Room, but when I approached the latest she whirled around and spat at me. I understood her message.

Leave me alone! I don’t belong here with the bad cats.

The snooty new feline slinked across the room, a growl rolling from her throat. She hopped on top of the kitty castle, glaring at us.

I looked at Carrot. I was worried about my friend. His breathing had gotten wheezier and his ears still bothered him. But, currently, he was content, lounging in a hammock. When our eyes met, he lowered his chin, resting it on his paws as if to say, Not up to playing, but feel free to entertain me.

So I went running up the pyramid of boxes stacked high against a wall. Three kittens followed me. At the very top, I spun in circles, chasing my tail. The box tilted off the stack, and we all went flying. The rest of the boxes came cascading down on top of us

I squirmed out and climbed, emerging in bright sunlight, a gentle breeze tousling my fur. Three kittens huddled close, looking around with wide eyes.

“That’s Number 3 for you,” Green Eyes said. “And I see you brought some young friends. First lifers?”

After our cards were punched, we followed Green Eyes to a pile of boxes on the beach. “You know the drill,” she said.

We climbed into one box and were soon poking our heads back out and stepping into the Basking Room, just as a Keeper entered the room.

“OhNo!” she cried, looking at me.

 

         Four

Today the Keepers hung a mysterious tube filled with black pellets outside the Basking Room’s window. Soon fluttering movements surrounded it. Birds perched on the sides of the tube and snatched out pellets.

My mouth dropped open, rapid-fire clicking noises coming from my throat. I couldn’t help it. Other cats ran to the window, tails swishing.

I wiggled my rear, preparing to attack, and sprang. I was in the air, flying, jaws open, claws out.

Wham!

I crashed to the floor, blinking up at blue sky. A second later, a pair of green eyes peered down at me. “Punchcard, please.” She jabbed my card then nodded toward a large pane of glass on the beach, a small opening at the bottom. “Exit there, please.”

I stepped through the opening, emerging into a corner of the Basking Room.

I glanced out the window. The birdfeeder was gone.

 

           Five

Carrot and I watched a Stranger pick up a purple kitten, press her to his cheek, and leave the room with her.

I sighed. I wonder why no one ever chooses us.

Carrot bumped his head against mine. Because I’m ugly, and you’re … well … bad.

I swatted at him. You’re not ugly. Don’t say things like that.

Carrot looked at me with his one good eye, the other stitched shut due to a recent infection. He flopped over on his side, showing his belly, paw resting on Crinkly Snake. It’s okay. There’s always a new batch of kittens to entertain us. We have a sunny window, plenty of food, and I have Crinkly Snake. The Keepers are kind. It’s not such a horrible life, right?

I guess not. I paused. You really think I’m bad?

Yeah, but in a good way. Carrot closed his eyes sleepily and yawned. Time for a cat nap.

I scanned the room for something to do and spotted an enormous ball of string.

Whoa!

My prey unraveled as I batted it around the room. Other residents joined in.

Later, after others had lost interest, the yarn was wrapped all around me, even my mouth, so I couldn’t meow to Carrot for help. Each time I moved, the loops tightened. And tightened. Then suddenly, I was free. I could breathe again. Yes! I skipped happily through the … sand? Wait a minute…

“Punchcard, please,” Green Eyes said. “Life Number 5.”

 

          Six

Carrot was missing from the Basking Room for three days. I refused to just sit worrying; I waited for the door to be left unlatched, scampered over, squirted through the gap, and bounded down the hallway.

I checked Solo, my nostrils flaring at the smell of sickness and fear, but no Carrot. I entered the room with the two big metal boxes. The door on one of them was open and blankets filled the interior. Perhaps Carrot was curled up in there.

I jumped in. The blankets were damp! I turned to leave, but the door slammed shut. A moment later, a roaring filled my ears as the walls started to turn. I opened my mouth, mustered the most exuberant of cat screams, and somersaulted onto soft sand. My smooth, silky coat was Áine puffed out and staticky. Before she could ask, I handed my wrinkled punchcard to Green Eyes.

“Life Number 6,” I said. “I know the way out.”

 

         Seven

Carrot was back! He was on his favorite cushion with Crinkly Snake. He lifted his chin and flicked his tail happily at me in greeting. Relief flooding over me, I plunked down beside him on the cushion. As I settled next to him, I was startled at how thin he had become.

Carrot sighed and closed his eyes, his mouth curved upward. I licked the top of his head, neck, and side of his face. I rested my head against his shoulder and fell asleep to his heart drumming.

I woke with a start. Carrot was gone, and two Keepers stood over me.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” said one. Wet trails ran down her cheeks from her eyes.

“Oh, this is so awful,” said the second. “The two of them came in together six years ago. They’ve been inseparable.”

I didn’t understand their words, but something was wrong. After they left, I placed a paw over Crinkly Snake. I would protect it until Carrot returned.

I dozed, waking a short time later. Two young male cats played with a toy.

Crinkly Snake!

I sprang. We spun across the floor in a tumble of flying fur and ear-splitting shrieks. I whirled around, ignoring the pain when teeth sank into my ear. Keepers burst into the room and separated us.

I meowed at the Keeper who put me in my Sleeping Cage. Where’s Carrot? What have you done with him?

But she just stroked the top of my head, placing Crinkly Snake beside me in the cage.

My ear throbbed. I felt so hot. If only I could slip out of my coat to cool off. The Keepers came and went, covering my sore ear with goo. I hissed at them even though I knew they were trying to help. Finally, I dropped off into the deepest sleep of my life.

I felt the gentle scrape of a rough tongue between my ears and opened my eyes. I lay in the sand. A stunning cat with a thick marmalade coat, muscular limbs, and a handsome face sat beside me, cleaning my head and face. There was something familiar about him.

“Hi, buddy,” the cat said.

I jumped back. It couldn’t be, could it? “Carrot? Is that you?”

“It’s me! And I feel amazing! I punched Life Number 9 napping in the Basking Room. I heard you got into a nasty fight.”

“They were playing with Crinkly Snake. I might have overreacted ….” I stared at my friend. “You look wonderful!”

Carrot’s eyes sparkled. “This is how I’ve always wanted to look and how I’ll look forever unless I decide to change it.” He paused. “Oh, Green Eyes asked me to punch your ticket. Life Number 7, right?”

“Yeah, but I want to stay here with you! Don’t make me go back there. It’s not the same without you.”

“I’m sorry buddy, but you’ve got some adventures left. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you.” He paused. “Wait until you see the fishing docks. The meadows. The butterfly room. The laser room. I wish you could remember this on The Flip Side. Come on, I’ll take you to the exit.”

Before I passed through the door, I looked back at my best friend and blinked slowly.

Carrot did the same.

Love you too, friend.

 

          Eight

I sat on a high shelf, Crinkly Snake beside me. I watched the kittens playing below with no desire to join them. A Stranger sat on the bench cradling an orange kitten. As he stood to leave, a small flat rectangular package slipped from his pocket.

Curious, I stalked across the room to examine it. Its inner tin wrapping was torn, revealing a hard brown substance. I pawed at it and gave it a sniff. I gave it a cautious lick. Then bit off a chunk. Dee-licious! I clawed open the wrapper, licking the sweet surface. A few minutes later, I was left with an empty wrapper. Suddenly, my stomach rolled and I sprinted to the litterbox.

I landed in the sand near the big water’s edge.

“Hello,” a pleasant voice said. An old plaid cat I did not recognize stood beside me, watching the waves.

“Where’s Green Eyes?”

“She’s working the East Gate. I’m filling in today. My humans called me Champ. I just punched Life Number 9. I passed from old age. Can you believe it? 21 human years.” He blinked. “I had a really nice life on the Flip Side. My humans were so kind. I miss them, but this place is spectacular!”

“Must be nice to have someone you miss.” Then I thought of Carrot. “How is Carrot?”

“Carrot’s doing great. He’s in the firefly dome.”

“The firefly dome? That sounds incredible. I’m just punching Life Number 8. I’ll be joining him soon.”

When I gave Champ my punchcard, he stared at it an extra beat before puncturing it. Then he looked at me, whiskers twitching. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re the one.”

“Excuse me?”

“My successor.”

“Your successor? I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said. “You just won’t know it.”

 

Two Strangers, one large and one small, and a Keeper entered the Basking Room. The Strangers looked past the darling kittens scampering around their feet and the gorgeous Pink Dotted Peppercat in the corner. Their gaze fell on me and stopped. I lifted my head and yowled at them.

But they did not go away. In fact, the little one skipped over, followed by the bigger one.

“I love him,” the little Stranger said. “He’s perfect.”

The big Stranger slowly offered me her hand. I sniffed her fingertips.

“How old is he?”

“A little over seven. He came here as a kitten,” the Keeper said.

“He’s been here the whole time? So many scars.”

“He likes to get into mischief. We joke it’s a good thing cats have nine lives; else he would have been out of here ages ago.” The Keeper made the chortling sound humans made when they were happy.

“We lost our plaid cat, Champ, a while back. He lived to be 21 years old. I couldn’t bear to think about getting another one, but recently I’ve been dreaming about him. Like he’s trying to tell me to keep spreading the love.”

The big Stranger sighed and studied me again. She looked down at the little one. “What do you think?”

“He’s the one,” she said, her mouth lifting at the corners. I found her face very appealing despite it lacking fur.

“We’ll take him,” said the big Stranger. She scratched my cheeks. I closed my eyes; my throat motor rumbled to life. “That okay with you, gorgeous?”

I meowed, not sure what I was approving.

 

They were no longer Strangers. The big one was called Laura, and the small one was called Hannah. They did not call me, OhNo! or StopThat! or GetDown!

They called me Sam. I liked it.

My new house was enormous, much bigger than the Basking Room, with multiple rooms on multiple floors to roam and explore. There was a huge window where I could sit in the sun and watch the birds and squirrels outside. My humans fed me wet stuff, crunchies, kitty treats, and even catnip. Fresh, not the dry, crackly stuff they broke out in the Basking Room. The one named Hannah played with me all the time. It was awesome.

I stretched out on top of my multilevel kitty condo, a paw resting on Crinkly Snake, and gazed out the window at the flowers. A butterfly floated from bloom to bloom.

I sighed. Life didn’t get any better.

I was in paradise.

 

END

“The Flipside”, © Hall Jameson, first published here in Cosmic Roots & Eldritch Shores, December 25, 2023
Hall Jameson (she/her), is an American writer and artist living in the Pacific Northwest. Her writing has recently appeared in Nature Futures, the Drabblecast, and Compelling Science Fiction. When she’s not writing, she’s likely in her kayak on Puget Sound or at home wrangling cats.
Twitter/X: @hajawrites
Website: halljameson.com

 

Illustration by Fran Eisemann, using public domain stock.