A Cat Transformation Tale
A Potion Place Story
by grapehyacinth
Lance Wintergreen sensed the woman seeking out his store long before she entered. He did not allow just anyone to find him, however this lady's deep, longing sorrow was so strong that he allowed her access. She possessed a mite of desperation as well, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt. The Potion Place, his shop, was here to help people, if even just to bring a bit of joy to their lives.
He recognized her as a two-bit player from community theater, and he could not remember her name – if he had ever even known it. She was slim, relatively attractive, although her hair was too blonde to be remotely realistic.
“Hello! How may I help you?” Mr. Wintergreen piped up, rather curious.
“Yes, yes,” the woman replied, engrossed in the bottles lining the walls. Knitting her brows in consternation she uttered, “'Ketchup With Me', 'Relish Me'? What is this, an erotic grocery store?”
Mr. Wintergreen chuckled. “Hardly. That's our condiments section. You want your boyfriend to top his hot dog with a squirt of you? You'll want one of those potions.”
The woman cleared her throat in distaste and twisted to face the store owner. “My friend turned into a dove for me. She showed me the potion she got from you. I want one too.”
“The dove potion?”
“No...how about,” she scratched her head. “You have a cat one?”
Mr. Wintergreen reached around and located one of many green small bottles. “That's a big seller. We're constantly restocking them.” He looked up with interest as he pulled out a paper bag. “What's it for?”
The woman sighed, extracting a credit card from her purse. “Well, I'm an actress, and tomorrow's the final callback for the main lead of a show. Turns up it's me up against...Samantha Tarrington.” She shook her head.
“Wow! Samantha Tarrington? I thought she only did movies and TV,” said Mr. Wintergreen.
“Mostly. But I guess she's finally 'debased' herself enough to do stage work,” she spat angrily. “Meanwhile, I love the stage, and this part could be my first Broadway role, but I'm so scared they'll choose her over me. I mean, how could they not?”
Lance narrowed his eyes. “So what's with the potion?”
The woman blinked. “Oh, it's to make me relax tonight. My friend told me sleeping as an animal clears your mind. It's the best sleep ever.”
“Actually, sleeping as an object is,” Lance corrected her, sliding a violet bottle from the shelf behind him. “May I recommend 'Lavender Release'? Not only is there the calming smell of lavender, but you're the one giving it off. As a sprig of flowers, your sleep will be the most relaxing you've ever experienced.”
The woman pondered this for a moment. “No, I'd rather try the cat one.”
“Okay. If it calms you a bit for tomorrow, I'm fine with that, uh– ”
“Leslie.”
“Ok, Leslie. But take the eight-hour one, not the twenty-four. You don't want to be a cat at your audition.”
As he pulled the bottle from the bag, she grabbed at it. “No, I want that. I want to be a cat immediately.”
Lance checked his watch dubiously. “When's the audition?”
“One o'clock tomorrow.”
“Well, it's ten-thirty in the morning. You better take it right away. You're cutting it close.”
“That's fine.”
“Let me get you a price on that–”
“I don't care how much it costs. Ring me up! I'm in a hurry!”
He charged her credit card, and she signed the receipt, saying “it's worth it” as she noted the price. She grabbed up the bag, tossed the bottle back in, and ran out.
“Good...luck...” Lance uttered. The door slammed shut in answer.
Holding the potion bottle in one hand and her phone in the other, Leslie waited for someone to answer her call. Her heart was beating so hard, she thought her chest might burst.
“Hello?”
Leslie inhaled deeply. “Hey, Samantha! How are you? It's Leslie.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Leslie? My God, it's been so long, I can't believe you still have my phone number!”
Leslie wasn't sure whether this comment was genuine or a backhanded jab at her. She knew Samantha pretty well as both girls had attended the same high school. But because Samantha was one year ahead, so she won all the lead roles in the school plays until she graduated. Then Leslie got them – she was queen of the stage senior year.
But it all went downhill after that. College and the real world happened.
Not that she never got roles – she often did more than not, but it was always minor roles in community theater, or perhaps a chorus part in an off-Broadway show.
“Um, I got your phone number from your mom.” Leslie's mother had gone to college with Samantha's mother and they were still good friends, which made everything all the more uncomfortable for Leslie and Samantha. Both mothers knew of the rivalry between their daughters, and they had often tried to get the two girls together, but Leslie and Samantha avoided each other at any cost.
“Oh, is my mom still trying to make us hang out?”
Leslie hated to bring Samantha's mother into this, and she felt guilty. She looked down at the bottle, playing with the cork. Was she really going to do something so low as this? Would she regret it the rest of her life, knowing that she had essentially stabbed someone in the back to get a part?
But if she didn't do this, she'd spend the rest of her life ruing the fact that she hadn't. She would do whatever it took to get ahead. Being the nice one hadn't gotten her anywhere.
“Well, my mom suggested we get together since we were both going for the same part. You know, the 'no hard feelings' thing? After all, either one of us getting this role looks great for our town. It puts us on the map.” She clamped her mouth shut, realizing Samantha had done that long ago with her own fame.
But Samantha did not comment on this. “Okay, well, sure. Want to meet at Barney's?”
Barney's, the old high school hangout spot, would be thrilled to have such a famous guest, Leslie thought bitterly. “See you there at six.”
Barney's Diner hadn't changed much since Leslie's glory days. It still sported the obnoxious mirror-like exterior it had since its inception in the early eighties. And the red-leather covered benches were just as sticky.
Of course, she had gotten there first, because a big star like Samantha wouldn't be caught dead waiting for a nothing like her. But all would be fine, for Leslie felt the reassuring pressure of Mr. Wintergreen's potion bottle in her pocket. That would make everything perfect. Life could only go up from here.
Samantha practically exploded in at six-fifteen, her usually perfectly-coiffed red hair slightly windblown. “Sorry, Leslie. Just had a quick meeting with my agent. Did you order yet?”
Leslie stared down at the empty placemat. “Um, no?”
The waiter walked up right then.
“Waiter, can you bring me tea and a Greek salad, please? Hold the olives, cucumbers, and tomatoes, please?”
Leslie snorted. “Why don't you just have some leaves for dinner, Samantha?”
The waiter was silent. A spark of recognition radiated in his eyes, but he didn't comment, and Leslie was glad.
“And you, Miss?”
Leslie glowered at her companion. “Mac and cheese,” she said proudly. Calories be damned. This was her night.
“Thank you.” The waiter strode away, and Leslie sighed. There was no recognition on his face when he looked at her. And she'd been coming to this place for ages.
“So...” she began, watching Samantha pull out her phone and placing it beside her plate. “Expecting a call?”
“Just in case. My phone's like my lifeline. I don't know how people lived without cells.”
“Right. Right.” Leslie held herself back from making a nasty comment, but really, Samantha had never been anything but polite to her. And it always bothered her. She must have known how jealous Leslie was of her – or was she so successful that she didn't care?
“Are you excited about tomorrow?” Samantha asked. “It's funny how it worked out this way.”
There was no malice in her expression, which surprised Leslie. The only thing she could make out was bona fide interest. “Of course. Nervous too.”
“Me too. Me too. You know, my agent said whoever doesn't get the lead will get the role of Ado Annie.”
Yes, that's what she wanted. In a Broadway revival of Oklahoma!, she would, like always, still end up in the goofy side-kick/best friend role. She knew this still was a chance of a lifetime all the same, but she'd played second fiddle to Samantha Tarrington all her life. Couldn't it be reversed just this once?
Samantha's phone rang, and the ringer tone was “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” from Oklahoma!. Leslie almost gagged.
“Oh! Gotta take this! Be right back!” Samantha rushed off, and the waiter returned with their drinks.
“Your food is coming out soon,” he said without looking her, and he ducked back into the kitchen.
Samantha's tea sat steaming on the table, and Leslie's pulse begin to pound. This was the moment her life depended on. Glancing about to make sure no eyes were on her, she pulled out the bottle, uncorked it, and spilled it into the tea.
She half-expected sparks to fly from the liquid, but nothing of the sort occurred. She just hoped the potion didn't have a bad taste...
Samantha returned just then, her face red. Leslie sat down abruptly.
“I can't believe it! I got a part on 'GOT'.”
“What's 'got'?”
“No...'Game of Thrones', Leslie! Can you imagine? Holy freaking...oh, my tea's here.” She dumped three packets of sugar in and drank deep.
But Leslie was too deep in shock to register her actions. This freaking bitch got a part on one of the biggest shows ever? Talk about unfair! “A lead or...a supporting...role...?” she stuttered.
“Well, I guess it's not a lead, but it's a decent role. I'm going to be in a bunch of episodes! I'm so excited!” She downed the rest of her tea. “More tea, please!”
Why did this bitch need a Broadway show when she was going to be...
“Wait, you finished your tea?” Leslie said out loud.
“Yes, I need more, oh, thanks, my salad's here...”
A warm feeling of victory began to wash over Leslie. Samantha drank the tea. Who cared what show she was going to be on. The audition tomorrow was hers!
“I'm itchy,” Samantha said, poking at her salad.
The fact that her macaroni and cheese was before Leslie didn't register. She could only stare at her rival, waiting for fur to sprout from the perfect skin...
“Hello, girls!”
Leslie looked up to see Lance Wintergreen, the Potion Place owner. He stood right behind them, a very stern look on his face, but his words remained airy. “That looks like good mac and cheese!”
“Mr. Wintergreen! What are you doing here?” Leslie exclaimed in alarm.
“Oh, my wife Barbara loves Barney's spinach pie – you know, the spanakopitas? Yes, she adores them so much she likes to burrow inside them and use the crust as a sleeping bag.”
Emitting a nervous giggle, Samantha gave him an odd look. Leslie, however, was pretty sure that he spoke the truth. If transformation potions were real, then it was entirely possible. Although why anyone would to crawl into their food was beyond her.
“Oh, I didn't know Barney's does take-out,” murmured Samantha. Her blouse was sliding off her shoulders, and she hiked it back up, a confused look on her face.
“Well, now you know. Cat's out of the bag,” Lance said, his eyes narrowing at Leslie.
She jumped in far too quickly. “I had last minute plans tonight with Samantha here. I'll have to wait to use your...”
“Whatever you choose to do, I do hope it relaxes you for tomorrow,” he responded, pausing as he regarded Samantha. “Are you okay?” he queried, noting her rubbing her back against the chair.
She immediately stopped. “Oh, I'm fine. Just...itchy clothes.”
“Hmm.” He glanced at Leslie once more. “Well, enjoy your meal! Good night!” He walked over to the counter, picked up his food, and left.
“Weird guy,” Samantha commented, scratching angrily at her sleeve. “Damn, I can't... stop... scratching...ow!”
“What?” It was all Leslie could do to feign concern.
“My...my nails...they look...pointier?”
“Uh, that's just weird, Samantha.” Leslie held back a grin.
“No, it's...” The star was staring at her hand. Whitish fur was beginning to appear, and she pulled her sleeve over it in a panic. Leslie pretended not to notice.
“Uh, I have to go–” Samantha's eyes were watering, and Leslie merrily noted they were growing golden.
The star jumped up from the table. “Can't...stay...”
“Why? We didn't finish!”
“Oh! I–” The girl cringed, glancing behind her. “What is...”
Was that a tail bump forming?, Leslie wondered in amusement.
“Bye!” Samantha rushed out.
“Wait! You forgot your phone!” But Leslie did not bother to follow her rival. Samantha wouldn't be able to even use a phone for a good twenty-four hours.
Leslie raised her water glass. “Here's to me!” she said, and she relished her dinner. Macaroni and cheese had never tasted this good.
“Oh no. Oh, please...no, no, no...” Samantha stumbled blindly into the woods behind the diner, holding her diminishing hand before her. “No, no...What is happening to me? What is this...It can't happen...Not to me...I have a big audition tomorrow...” She tried to stretch her fingers out, but they were shorter and sticking together at the base. Her shock was so intense that she didn't notice the fact that her ears were shifting higher on her head, becoming furry and triangular. Nor did she feel the pressure she had felt against her pants before, as her new tail had managed to sprout over the waistband of her pants. All she could do was remain fixated on her changing digits.
“There's fur growing on me. Oh, my God what did I do that made this happen to me...” The white fluff was thickening to the point that she could hardly see her skin between the individual hairs. “My nails are getting sharp...Oh, my God I'm turning into a monster!” She tripped out of her shoes, displaying her shrinking feet, and her legs gave way under her. Collapsing into the dead leaves, she began to heave huge sobs as her body shifted its form.
A sudden lurch made her raise her head to realize – everything seemed so much bigger. “I have to get help!” She turned to reach for her phone, but her clothes had become enormous. She fished around, trying to pull back the folds, but her fingers weren't working right anymore, and her pockets were empty.
“I left my phone at the diner,” she stated, and her whole mouth felt funny as she formed the words. Her sharp teeth cut at her tongue, and her incisors seemed to be shrinking back to stubs. “Oh God!” she screamed. “I have to get out of herrrrrree!” Her mouth fought to form the words, as her lips were pushing them into a nearly-feline sound. She tried to jump up, only to get caught as her clothes slid off her. Clumsily falling to her side in the brush, she gaped at her now-furry limbs to find them all wrong. They were all the same size.
Her whole form began to seize violently, and she gave up. “I'm...dying,” she whispered.
And then a man stood before her.
She didn't question who he was or where he'd come from. She only stared up at the stranger's trustworthy face, recognized him as the man from the diner, and whispered, “Help me.”
And all went dark.
“Samantha, wake up,” said a woman's soft voice.
Samantha groaned, pulling the soft blanket over herself. She had never slept so well. Couldn't this lady give her a bit more time to rest?
“Samantha,” a man cut in, “you have an audition soon.”
Audition! Samantha sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What time is...” in a sudden panic, she drew her hand from beneath the covers and peered at it.
It was very human.
She began to cry, first quietly, then, as the horrors of the previous night replayed themselves in her thoughts, the tears grew into deep, heavy sobs. “What was that? It was real, I swear! I was turning into a hairy monster! Was I drugged or something? Hallucinating?”
The woman, who seemed sweet and middle-aged, placed her arms around her. “It's okay, Samantha. It was real, but you're fine. My husband Lance changed you back.”
Samantha tried to focus on the couple through her tears. “Who are you? What's going on?”
“I'm Barbara Wintergreen, and this is my husband Lance. He owns the Potion Place. Ever hear of it?”
“No.”
“It sells potions,” the man said, sitting down in a chair next to the bed.
“Uh...”
“Yes. Transformation potions, mostly.”
“Transfor...” Samantha's eyes filled with realization. “I'm not sure I want to believe it, but if that's true, then...Oh, my God. Did that bitch Leslie...”
“Leslie bought a cat potion yesterday. She told me she was going to use it herself to relax. I wasn't sure that was true, which was why I checked on you at the diner. I'm glad I did. Sorry you went through the changes before I found you after.”
“Changes?” Samantha's mind went back to her horrifying experience. The fur, the claws... “So...I...”
“You turned into a cat.”
Samantha let this sink in. “I...thought I was turning into a monster,” she finally said.
Barbara smiled. “I think you passed out before you were completely feline.”
Samantha gazed at the woman in wonder. “I can't believe this. I just...I really was turning into an...actual cat?”
“Yes. And honestly, if you had known what was going on, you might have actually enjoyed it,” said Mr. Wintergreen.
Shaking her head back and forth, Samantha whispered, “Well, I do like cats, but...my God, I can't believe Leslie would do something like this. How did she even know this was possible?”
Mr. Wintergreen sighed. “That's a little lapse in my judgment. I don't let just anybody get access to my wares. But she had such deep feelings of longing, disappointment... I was hoping I could help her.” His face grew dark. “I'll tell you something, maybe Carleton's right.”
“No!” Barbara cried. “He's not!”
“Who's Carleton?”
“Someone who doesn't want everyone to have access to these potions.”
“Well, I can understand they can get into the wrong hands...” Samantha sniffled. “You know, Leslie's not a bad person. But she's always been in my shadow, honestly. I've always tried to be nice to her, I never looked down on her. But, I mean, what should I do? Let her get all the parts? If I work hard, and I earn a role, why shouldn't I get it? Should I just drop out and let her have it because she wants it? Oh, God, I can't believe she went that far to keep me from going to the audition!”
“And that's still going to happen if we don't get you going!” Barbara cried, pulling her from the bed.
“I have no clothes, and no time to get home to get them,” Samantha said in misery. “She's won.”
“No, she hasn't. I'll give you something to wear.”
Samantha looked Barbara up and down. She was short and slightly plump. There was no way her clothes would fit remotely.
“Lance, get out of the room. We have some work to do,” the woman ordered her husband.
Mr. Wintergreen nodded, bowing out and closing the door behind him.
Barbara smiled. “Brace yourself. Today I'm your fairy godmother!”
“Samantha? Where is she? I called this audition for one sharp!” yelled the enraged director.
“She's always on time to everything, unlike most actors,” murmured the producer beside him. “I hope everything's okay.”
Leslie stood on the stage smugly. “I guess she's not coming. Can I do the scene?” She gazed beside her, at her would-be costar. Mike Shields, the best man of Broadway, played with his script distractedly, avoiding Leslie's eyes, but she flashed him a winning smile nonetheless. Her dream was already coming true, just by standing in his vicinity.
“I guess we'll have to get going. I wanted to have Samantha read as Laurie, the lead, first, but–”
“Wait!” a male voice boomed from the back. The few people in attendance turned to view a bespectacled older man leading Samantha in. She wore a magnificent outfit which fit her like no tailor could duplicate.
“I'd like to apologize for making Samantha late. We thought there was a...medical issue,” he glared at the shocked Leslie, “but she's fine now.”
Leslie's jaw fell open as Samantha walked onto the stage. The star did not look at her once. She read her lines evenly and well, and her songs were flawless.
Leslie, on the other hand, had one of her worst auditions ever.
Later, as they both exited the stage, Leslie began to tear up. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...”
“Not here, Leslie,” Samantha cautioned. “Please. Let's do this out back.”
The two walked into the alley behind the theater to find both Barbara and Lance Wintergreen waiting patiently for them.
“Well, how did it go, girls?” Lance asked, looking only at Samantha.
“I was thankful to be there,” she replied, finally looking at her rival.
Leslie, still wide-eyed, faced Mr. Wintergreen. “Did it...”
“Of course it worked! You're just lucky I found her and changed her back in time!”
There was fury in the shopkeeper's eyes, and Leslie began to shiver in fear. “Please, don't hurt me...”
Lance shook his head back and forth, turning away, and Leslie broke down. “I...I...oh, Samantha, I'm sorry. I just...I wanted to be in the limelight already! It's just...oh...”
“But how could you do that to someone?” Samantha exclaimed. “Do you know what fear is, Leslie? When fur started growing out of my skin, I felt fear like I've never felt in my life! I was so scared that I passed out!” she paused to catch her breath.
“My potions aren't for revenge,” Lance said darkly, without turning back to face them.
“It's not revenge, it's just...Oh, God, I didn't want to hurt you! I just wanted the part! I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Ask you for it?”
“Transforming is a wonderful experience. It's not a way to frighten, threaten, or even do away with people,” Barbara added.
Lance finally faced them. “And why a cat?”
“Well, Samantha always loved cats...”
The three softened somewhat. “Well, at least you made her something she liked,” Lance said grudgingly. “That shows some remorse.”
“And at least she didn't turn her into a hideous monster, or something inanimate,” Barbara inserted. “For example, I imagine turning to stone can be very frightening...if you don't want it.”
Samantha was looking at Lance markedly.
Reading her thoughts, he made a delighted smile. “You really want this, don't you?”
Leslie looked confused. “You mean the lead? I assume it's hers.”
Lance shook his head, grinning widely. “No, no...”
“Mr. Wintergreen, turn me into a cat.”
“What?” Leslie shrieked in shock. “You're not freaked out by that?”
Samantha shook her head. “I'd actually love to be a cat for a day. It's too bad I didn't know what was happening last time...and that I had an audition the next day. Mr. Wintergreen?”
He pulled a green bottle from his pocket and handed it to her.
Samantha had set out gourmet cat food in a crystal bowl, some milk, and a fluffy pink cat bed she'd picked out at the pet store next door to the Potion Place. Then she sat back and began to change.
A deep purr escaped from her throat as she felt her metamorphosis proceed, and this time the appearance of fur made her giggle excitedly. It tingled as it popped from her skin and traveled all over her body. She pulled off her clothes and, standing naked before a full-length mirror she'd carted in from her room, she watched as her ears migrated to the top of her head and whiskers sprouted from her furry cheeks.
The phone rang, and she let it go right to voice mail. No one was stopping this. Not even an offer to act for the President.
She groaned as her tail poked out, then she turned and began to play with it as it grew. Oh, what wonderful tabby stripes were on it! She was becoming so beautiful! She was shrinking, and she felt her body pushing into a four-legged form. “Oh, God, this feels wonderful!” she gasped, now on four legs. “I'm becoming a cat! I'm a cat...rrrrraaaaooooowwww!”
The tabby cuddled up in its pink bed and purred itself to sleep.
Two nights later, the roles in the play had been announced. The lead and her co-lead met up at Barney's with the Wintergreens for a celebratory dinner.
“Did you enjoy being a cat?” Barbara asked Samantha.
Samantha reddened. “It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. First I slept, but then I went outside about midnight. I loved running and jumping, chasing mice...although it was tough to not kill or eat anything.”
Barbara chuckled. “Yes, the longer you're an animal, the more the instincts kick in, and the harder it is to resist them.”
Leslie gazed at her. “What kinds of animals have you been?” she asked guardedly.
Lance put his arm around his wife. “The question is, what animals hasn't she been?”
The couple began to laugh, and Samantha joined in.
Leslie merely regarded them through sad eyes. “I don't deserve this part,” she murmured when the tittering died away.
No one responded.
“What can I do to make it up to you, Samantha?”
Samantha cast her eyes to the floor. “Just do a good job,” she said quietly. “And no more turning me into anything...without me knowing.”
Leslie turned to Mr. Wintergreen, a pleading expression on her face. “But I feel so guilty...”
“Well,” he said solemnly. “Barbara does a lot of community service. You can join her.”
“Doing what?”
Barbara glanced at her husband, her face lighting up with glee. “Carnivals.”
Leslie clasped her hands together, not quite understanding. “Oh, I'd love to work at a carnival!”
“Well, it's not quite the kind of work you're thinking.”
“Oh, it's fine. Just being involved in a carnival would be so much fun!”
Mr. Wintergreen winked mischievously at his wife. “Oh, indeed it is. Indeed it is.”