Not Quite (Flash Fiction)

“Well? Where is he?”
“He’s in the back,” Bob said. “Sleepin’.”

She started down the hallway.
“Where are you going?” Bob asked.
“I want to see him.”
“He’s sleeping. He’s exhausted. Let him sleep.”
“Did he eat?”

Bob looked down, turning the playing cards in front of him. He managed an 18 for himself, but his invisible dealer landed a 20 after five hits.
“Well?” she pleaded.
“He ate a little. Not much. Calm down.”
“Water?”
“He drank some. He’s mostly just slept since we got home. Just leave him be. He needs to rest.”
“We should do something.”

Bob shook his head as his invisible dealer pulled a blackjack. “He’ll be fine. Look, he’s terrified,” he said, looking up. “Let him rest. He’s got food to eat, water to drink, he’ll do what he needs to. His strength will come back in time.”

She sat down with him and took the deck. She dealt Bob a 14. She showed a king for herself. “How much did it cost?”
“Nothing. I just walked up and got him. Hit me.”
“A rescue?” She turned a king. “Bust.”
Bob shook his head.
“What?” she asked.
“He’s a cat, okay? It’s not like I sprung someone from a P.O.W. camp.”