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shadow. The dark figure had its back to Mariya. She could see it was wearing a hooded sweatshirt and jeans.
    As the figure turned towards her and lowered the hood she could see it was a young man. He had pale skin and deep red lips. His long black hair was marked with streaks of white. The same pattern was repeated in his goatee.
    “Hello, Mother.”
    The young man began walking towards Mariya and as he went the cats at his bare feet parted like loyal subjects making way for their king.
    “I don’t have a son.”
    He never looked down, he never missed a step, and he kept his blue grey cat like eyes on Mariya as he came closer.
    “I said I have no son. Get out. Now.”
    She gripped the bat and raised it high.
    “Fifty-two moons have come and gone since we saw each other last,” he began as he stopped directly in front of her, “and not one has passed without my thoughts turning to you.”
    Mariya began to sense something familiar about the young man. He reached up slowly and put his hand on the hand that gripped the bat. He never took his eyes from hers as they lowered her arm together. The young man slipped the bat from her hand and dropped it to the floor.
    “I’ve come home, Mother.”
    The mysterious stranger put his arms around Mariya and drew her close to him. Her senses were immediately overwhelmed. His physical warmth was familiar. The smell of his hair was familiar. His fingernails digging gently into her back as he pulled her closer felt familiar. Images of a small black and white kitten came to her mind. A rocking chair. A book. Music and singing. All these images raced through her mind and they all came to an abrupt end when she felt a purr growing in his throat.
    “Casanova?” she whispered. “Is that you?”
    The purring grew more intense and then began to fade as the young man let her go. Casanova stood before her, took her head in both his hands, and kissed her gently on her forehead.
    “How is this possible?” she asked.
    Casanova smiled.
    “Cruelty, Mother.”
    As Casanova stepped away from her the sea of cats closed in around her feet. The room was full of cats. On the floor. On the shelves. In the trees. Mariya could feel all eyes on her.
    “Man’s inhumanity to mankind,” he continued as he reached the cages which held the kittens.
    “Man’s inhumanity to animal kind,” he whispered to himself as he slowly began to open each cage.
    As the last cage opened, he reached in and pulled out a calico kitten. He drew it close to his chest and began petting it. The little one purred deeply.
    “I’ve changed.”
    “That much is clear,” Mariya nervously added.
    “You sent me away and I became a man.”
    Casanova snapped his fingers and several cats from the surrounding horde ran past Mariya and ran up the stairs.
    “Did you know what I was?”
    “I knew you were special,” she answered.
    “And still you let me go?”
    Casanova snapped his fingers again and cats begin jumping up to the open cages and started pulling out kittens by the scruffs of their necks.
    “You imprinted yourself on me.”
    Each cat jumped back down to the floor with a freed kitten in their mouth.
    “You chose to take my dead mother’s place. You chose to take responsibility for me.”
    “Yes. I did.”
    “Then you sold me into slavery.”
    “I did no such thing.”
    “You betrayed me,” Casanova shouted.
    In the silence that followed the scream every cat in the room turned to face Mariya. From the dark corners she could hear a few hisses. In all the years that Mariya traded in cats she was never frightened by them. That was quickly changing.
    “You banished me to a distant forest and left me at the hands of my loveless jailers.”
    Casanova crossed the room and opened the door to the street. The ringing bell caught the attention of the horde. With their attention drawn to the door, Mariya thought about running. She could run back upstairs. Her cell phone was there. She could call for help. She could run