Anne had lice. No matter how furiously she scratched at her scalp, the itch never left. Lice were a homeless shelter inclusion, along with a paper thin matress and dingy beige sheets. To be fair; the sheets were probably white once, but the shelter clientele were not known for their cleanliness. Anne hadn't had a real shower or bath in the months since she left the apartment she had shared with her mother. A splash of water from a sink had been her only means of cleaning. Sometimes she got lucky and she would score a few packet of wipes from KFC.
It was almost a week since Anne had been robbed. She had been out scavenging later than usual and when she returned to her van she saw the back doors were wide open. Risking no more than a peak inside to confirm all her things were lost to her, she strolled casually past the vehicle as if it held no interest to her. She saw a pair of shadows inside the van. Their laughter echoed around the metal interior. Rules of the street told her it was time to move.
Anne had avoided the shelter for as long as possible. The first night without her van, she slept off and on huddled in the glass entry to a bank that had closed for the night. She woke suddenly when a vision of herself being brutally hauled away by two men shook her to her bones. She decided that no good would come of trying to live on the streets. The luck that led her to the van and kept her out of danger these last months had ended. She headed two blocks over to the shelter for a breakfast of watery, luke warm coffee and a stale, donated bagel. Anne was grateful for both. The weather had started to turn cold, so she opted to stay in the shelter until she could figure out her next move.
The woman in the next bed coughed loudly. Anne rolled over turning her back on the woman. That left her facing a girl a few years older than her, oozing open sores spotting her lips and cheeks. Anne had a vision of the girl - cold, lips blue, stiff with rigor.
Alright, time to move on. Anne pushed to her feet.
The last vision she had of the orange cat took place in an alley a couple blocks from the shelter. Anne headed in that direction.
The alley was spooky. Who knew what the sinister shadows hid. She thought she heard rustling. Rats. Water dripped somewhere deep inside the narrow space.
Damn, her head was itchy!
A vision came to her of herself, clean, smiling. Convinced she moved into the alley.
"Here, kitty, kitty."
"Ewww", Anne stepped in something soft and sticky. "Come on, cat. Quit playing games."
The orange cat appeared out of a shadow to her left. "Bout time, let's get this...."
Anne woke slowly, careful to move only her eyes until she could figure out where she was. If she was safe. She was on a top bunk. The matress was thick, the sheets clean and the pillow soft. So, not a shelter.
She braved moving her head to the right. The room was small, but clean. A sneeze struck her without warning.
Maybe the orange cat was in the room. Anne twisted and swung her legs over the edge of the bed dropping to the floor.
She was surprised to see there was someone in the bottom bunk. A closer look and she realized it was the girl from her visions. A splotchy black and white kitten was curled up next to the girl. Anne pinched her nose to squelch a sneeze.
She tiptoed out of the room, careful to pull the door shut silently. Anne found herself in a big room with couches and chairs. To her right was a kitchen. Forgetting everything else, she headed for the fridge.
"Wow", Anne whispered. She grabbed a jug of milk and tipped it back and chugged. Stopping only long enough to catch her breath, her free hand grabbed a chunk of cheese. She almost choked as she tried to chew and drink at the same time.
"Hey. Where'd you come from?"
Anne spun, milk dripping down her chin, her mouth crammed with cheese. Her eyes were wide as she went onto the balls of her feet, ready to run or fight.
"Calm down." The gangly boy stretched both hands, palms out, toward her. "I can guess. Did it involve an orange cat?" He smiled. "Welcome to the Hive. I'm Rufus." He smiled, but her body language did not encourage him to come closer.
"Why is it called a Hive and not a cathouse?"
"Oh, I like you." Rufus moved an inch closer, nodding toward the fridge. "There's leftover chicken in there."
"I think I'm in love." She saw him blush, but dived in the fridge without hesitating. Anne talked around a chicken leg. "Don't suppose there's a shower."
Rufus pointed to a door across the room. Anne moaned, making him blush again.
"See you later." She kept the jug of milk in one hand and piece of chicken in the other and headed in the direction of the shower.
In the shower was a bottle of NIX ultra. The label said it killed lice and eggs. Bingo! Clean clothes in her size were folded neatly on the long vanity. A pair of soft slippers sat on top. It was like they were prepared for her arrival.
Anne finished the chicken and drained the jug of milk, then stepped into the shower. Warm water cascaded over her. She smiled. No matter what happened next, she had made the right choice letting the orange cat take her.