Tyche
Copyright© 2020 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 107
He hung up. I hung up.
The girl behind the Animal Control counter said, “I changed the chip because Savannah cats are banned in Texas. He’s not a Savannah ... he’s a big house-cat ... with spots.”
“Okay,” I turned to Raul, “You got that?”
<So ... I’m just a plain ordinary cat?>
And the girl behind the Animal Control counter said, “Yes ... and don’t forget it. Wait ... did I ... no ... can’t be.”
<Did ... people I like hear me.>
“Holy Shit!”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “Raul does it to the Deputy Sheriff all the time ... HE’s convinced that I’m a ventriloquist. You...” I stared at my cat, “ ... have gotten me in so much trouble.”
I switched to the clerk, “So ... you can hear him?”
“Yes,” she said. “You sure you’re not doing it?”
“Not me.”
<It’s me ... I like you.>
She blushed.
“I like cats. Always have.”
<I know. It shows.>
“So ... Tyche Selene ... interesting name ... goddess of Fortune and the Moon.”
She pronounced Tyche ... Ti ssh ... Everybody in North America does that, Tyche ... Ty-ke ... seems to be British ... and most of the European continent. I’m Australian ... Ty-ke. I told her so. “Tyke ... like nike shoes.”
Everyday I’m becoming more North American. Half the time I hear ‘Ty-ssh’ in my head when I think about me.
“Ty-ke?”
“Yes.”
“Not Ti-ssh?”
“Correct.”
“Hmm.”
<Took me a while, too.>
We both looked at him.
I didn’t know what to say.
She said, “I’m Harper Kennedy King. Call me Ken at your peril.”
I said, “Ms King.”
<Kenny>
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