I Am Spartacus

"No, Roger, I don't like salmon paté."

Roger froze where he stood, then slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder.

As his eyes found mine, I continued to regard him with my usual detached gaze.

"Did you--," he started, then shook his head as if to clear a bad memory. "Nah," he muttered under his breath. "You been livin' alone too long, dude," he said to himself.

"I'd hardly call this alone, Roger," I said coldly.

This time he spun around, still holding the half-opened can of cat food in his hand, and stared at me, wide-eyed. His mouth opened and closed like a stupid goldfish, and I tipped my head to one side and regarded him with amusement.

"Spartacus?" he finally choked out in a whisper. "Did you--did you just talk to me?"

I looked around the room, first to one side, then the other, in an exaggerated fashion, then looked back at him.

"Do you see anybody else here, Roger?"

This time he practically jumped in the air, and the can of food clattered to the ground, spattering a small amount of smelly processed salmon juice on the floor.

"Dude!" he yelled, "what the hell?"

"Well, if you're gonna freak out about it," I replied coolly, lifting my right paw and beginning to clean it. I let the sentiment hang, leaving him to finish the sentence for himself in his head. I have to admit, I was enjoying myself.

Roger was breathing heavily, wearing a look of shock that bordered on anguish.

"Am I not supposed to freak out about a talking cat?" he finally asked.

I stopped washing and looked up at him again, meeting his eyes.

"Is that all I am to you, Roger? A cat? Is that all we are?" I closed my eyes and shook my head disdainfully. "I really thought we had something more, Roger." I looked him in the eye again. "Something special."

"I didn't mean--I mean, I didn't--," he stammered, seeming to forget his initial surprise, "I didn't mean anything like that. But, I mean, you are--you are a cat, right?"

I kept my eyes locked on his. I slowly shifted my weight on my back legs, never taking my eyes off of his. I held him there with my gaze, and I watched him settle in, waiting for my next word.

"Actually," I began, "I'm not a cat, Roger. I'm a 900-year-old Princess, trapped in this animal body, forced to live out centuries without end, watching powerlessly as those I have come to love grow old and die around me."

He looked at me, his eyes even wider than before, and I sat up straighter and puffed my chest out a little bit, trying to look my most regal.

"Wow," he said finally, putting his hand to his forehead and shaking his head in disbelief. Then his expression clouded, and he looked at me with his brow furrowed.

"Wait, you mean you--you're a girl, Spartacus?"

He put his hands on his hips and looked at the ceiling in frustration.

"But I named you Spartacus!" he said, throwing his hands out to me in an expression of supreme exasperation. "Why didn't you say something? I mean, I could've given you a super cool girl's name instead!"

Then he stopped and his face went slack, and he stared at me as something else dawned on him.

"Oh my god! Spartacus! You probably already have a name! Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" He began pacing up and down in front of the kitchen counter. "Why didn't you tell me before? I could've been calling you by your actual name this whole time!"

I continued to watch him with amusement, trying my best to keep my expression as blank as possible. I was really enjoying myself now. I began to clean my paw again.

He came over and knelt in front of me and leaned forward, his face right in front of mine.

"I'm so sorry," he said earnestly. "I hope you can forgive me. It never occurred to me to ask you what your name was. It never even occurred to me that you might be a girl!"

I put my paw down again and looked him in the eye.

"Did it ever occur to you to ask?" I said.

"No," he said, looking a bit wounded, "I guess it didn't." He screwed up his face again. "But, I mean, you look just like a cat. And I certainly didn't think you could talk." He paused. "So--what happened to you? How did you end up like this?"

"Well, I'll tell you," I replied quietly.

I looked from side to side again.

"But it's a very carefully guarded secret," I said. "I'll have to whisper it to you."

Roger nodded emphatically, then leaned in closer and put his ear up to my nose.

I leaned forward, opened my mouth--

--and bit him on the earlobe.

"Ow!" he cried, grabbing his ear and recoiling, almost falling over backward in the process. "What was that for?"

I chuckled.

"You're so freakin' gullible, Roger."

"What?" he asked, still holding his ear, confusion clouding his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I tipped my head to one side and regarded him disinterestedly.

"Meow," I said.