Crepuscular

 Crepuscular

Katya was naturally hardwired to be most active during the twilight hours of dawn and dusk. Tiki was not. Their different rhythms caused more than a few hiccups.

Tiki was diurnal. He rose early each morning to fish in the pond, where he loved catching tilapia and catfish. By dusk, however, he was exhausted, snoring like a buzz saw before Katya's night had even begun.

Although he had been born in Indonesia, Tiki rarely spoke of his past. Katya simply called him "Cousin," and that became their truth, especially during difficult times.

One of those times came during the U.S. Bicentennial. Katya had just celebrated her own two-hundredth birthday. Returning from a 

nighttime hunt, she proudly left a plump, juicy mouse where Tiki would find it, believing it was a thoughtful gift.

Tiki's response puzzled her. Fastidious to a fault, he calmly picked up the mouse, tossed it over the fence into the farmer's field, dusted off his hands, and returned to fishing as though nothing had happened.

Katya preferred fish herself, but she couldn't understand Tiki's complete distaste for the mouse. Rather than confront him, she filed the mystery away. Perhaps the answer lay somewhere in the past.

So they climbed into the Time Machine.

Their destination was New York Harbor during the Bicentennial celebration, where the Tall Ships filled the harbor with towering masts and billowing sails. It was there they first met Gina.

Gina was young, beautiful, and painfully naïve. Having lived a sheltered life, she was unprepared for someone like Anthony.

Anthony was older, confident, and controlling from the very beginning. He believed Gina needed to be shaped into someone more like himself. She resisted in small ways, but he remained convinced she was trainable.

Katya found humans endlessly fascinating. Their mistakes, misunderstandings, and emotional entanglements were often more entertaining than anything she encountered on her nightly prowls. But there was one thing she could not tolerate: cruelty 

masquerading as love.

She watched Anthony begin a familiar routine. He blamed Gina, pointed accusing fingers, and raised his voice.

"What are you talking about, Anthony?" Gina asked, genuinely confused.

"It isn't what you did," he replied. "It's what you didn't do."

The accusation made no sense because there was nothing Gina could have done. Anthony wasn't reacting to reality; he was creating a problem she could never solve.

Katya had seen enough to recognize the pattern. When Anthony behaved this way, the safest response was to avoid eye contact, say little, and wait for the storm to pass.

But Gina didn't know that. Like a mouse caught in a trap, she searched desperately for the mistake she believed she must have made.

Why is he so angry? she wondered.  I need to understand what went wrong so I can fix it.

There was no riddle to solve. The problem was Anthony himself—a controlling man, exactly the kind her father had once warned her about.

Watching Gina struggle awakened something in Katya. What had begun as a search for answers about Tiki's mysterious past became something much larger. She became determined to save Gina from a life she could not yet recognize as dangerous.

Tiki, whether he fully understood Katya's mission or not, came along for the ride.

Their misadventures would last a very long time.