Fritz Goes There

Fritz went there. It seemed like the right thing to do, in the flashpoint of the moment, where there was no rewind, undo, command z. The camera would spin around, for then it could be seen the reactions of both Fritz and Ann in an instant.

Fritz had made the mistake of saying the obvious - "I told you". It never really serves any purpose, after all. It isn't even that satisfying on reflection, when the fallout settles in. Ann was so thinned skin anyway. Comments never bounced off of her; they would bruise her ever so slighting, and sometimes she would nurse them back to health, but she was really a bad nurse - often her concern would make it bigger than it was, which meant that it was always big. This was, for Fritz, the biggest deficit in their relationship, inside his mental spreadsheet.

They had a cat. Had a cat. Sentra (the cat's name) was a rogue. He was cagey. He pissed in Fritz's closet, so Fritz put a litter box there. Peace was then achieved, but like North and South Korea, peace was really just a term for un-war.

Things would get knocked over. They found a dead mouse lying on their bed. Fritz flashed back to "The Godfather" for a moment. When either of them left, Sentra would be there, ready to jet out.

It was a slice of freedom, and he did indeed escape. Fritz had warned Ann about this many times, because it was he that would have to chase him down. Sentra was smart, or maybe just so dumb that he really couldn't quite be understood by humans. Cats are like that.

Ann had come home from Trader Joe's, with her two bags of frozen stuff, and the brownie mix Fritz liked. She had fumbled for the keys. The obvious thing would have been to put the bags down, but no, as Fritz would point out, she didn't do that. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open with body, and in doing so, saw the gray blur of Sentra out the door.

Ann had not had much luck with finding him when Fritz showed up to help in the search. Their townhouse was a sea of many, with varying faces, but ultimately clad in a shade of vinyl. Fritz thought, if I had the brain about the size of a walnut, I would get lost too. Or maybe just not care. At least until dinner time. And even then, that could be a bug, or maybe a rodent.

Fritz thought these thought while wandering through the complex, occasionally looking underneath rows of parked cars. There was no point in calling Sentra's name - first, he would feel like an idiot for doing it - people would think he had lost his car, and was calling for it - and second, it was doubtful that Sentra would even acknowledge him.

Later than night, the discussion incrimination interrogation would begin, and the eventual "I told you" would surface.

Ann at that moment narrowed her eyes. She had moment where she thought of Sentra out there , wandering around, and then she was out the door too.

Sentra, on the other hand, had already moved on. Three streets over, in the late afternoon, Nicolette found Sentra grooming himself on the sidewalk in front of her town home. When she opened door, Sentra zipped in before her. Nicolette decided that this was a sign.

Sentra, on the other hand, didn't really care one way or another. Humans were these big, mobile meat-things - too big to eat - really just there to provide a warm place to sleep, food and cleaning up crap. Nicolette decided this was a fair arrangement.

Fritz, on the other hand, had to work really hard to get Ann back. It took two days of pleading, going by her parent's house, waiting out in the cold for her to come to the door, having messages relayed that she wanted nothing to do with him. This was an unfortunate side effect of both of their brains being bigger than walnuts….at least that was what Fritz decided in the end.