He had a cane
She had a walker
She drove him insane
She was a talker,
He loved the classics
Mozart and Brahms
She - a pipe organ
hymnals and psalms,
Together forever
as older they grew
If he were downwind
she’d say, “Ah chew.”
She liked the movies
with popcorn and Hanks
He enjoyed pirates
walking the plank.
Like birds of a feather
robin or swallow
wherever one went
the other would follow.
zc
When Gherkins was a kitten, she appeared to be like every
other kitten in the cardboard box the little girl was holding out in front of
the supermarket. Free Kittens, her sign
spelled out in magic marker on the side of the box. I don’t recall how many kittens there were,
but Gherkins somehow got my attention.
Even though I
knew there was no such thing as a free kitten, I carried her to my car and
drove home. The following few weeks were
spent getting to know each other. She
was playful and curious. So curious, in
fact, that it caught my attention just how much she was paying attention to how
things worked. She seemed to study the
relationship between the knob and the faucet.
She caught on quickly that it was the knob that caused water to come out
of the faucet.
There wasn’t any part of the house she hadn’t explored. In no time at all she was running full speed from the front entryway to the back, bedroom closet, then up the attic steps. I’d hear her racing across the upstairs bedroom, and over time, as she gained weight, she was heavy enough to make the floorboards squeak. I could always tell where she was.
I never really
noticed how quiet she was until the first time she meowed at me. I had just walked away from the kitchen
sink. She had been sitting up by the
kitchen window, watching the water run out of the faucet. As I turned and headed for the other room,
she squawked. I turned around and saw
that she was looking at the sink. I hadn’t shut the water off all the way, and
it was still dripping. I went back and
pushed harder on the handle and said thank you.
I really didn’t
think anymore about it until I came home one day from work. From the driveway I could see her sitting in
the front window waiting for me. As I
started walking up to the house, Gherkin stood up on her back legs, her front
paws against the window. At first I
thought she was just stretching, but then I could hear her through the window
meowing quite loudly.
Thinking she was
excited to see me, I ignored her cries.
Then I heard a crash behind me.
My car had rolled backwards down the drive, and smashed into my
neighbor’s car, which was parked in the street.
That evening, as I was watching the television and she was curled up
next to me, I realized she had been trying to alert me that the car was
rolling. It never occurred to me to turn
around and look behind me.
That was the first time I knew Gherkins was a very special cat. As time went on, I paid closer attention to her attempts to communicate with me. I seemed to be the dumb one in the relationship. Between the two of us we developed a system that included sounds, gestures and a combination of the two. She also wasn’t shy about letting me know which cat food she liked and didn’t like. All the typical cat toys were apparently beneath her. She couldn’t be bothered.
I further discovered that she
could read people, sort of like I had been reading her signals. I noticed this during one of my poker
groups. I knew she had no clue which
playing cards were which, or what went together to make a good hand, but like I
said, she could read people.
During the game I noticed her
studying the other players. Whenever
someone was bluffing, her tail would flick like crazy. The last thing I wanted to do was cheat, but
how could I ignore sweet, innocent Gherkin?
She’d always let me know when someone was lying about what cards they
were holding, and silly me, I always called their bluff. Fortunately, nobody ever caught on. Not that I did it that often. I mean, I’m not a crook.
Last Thursday evening the power went out. There was quite a storm going on and lightning or wind had knocked out the electricity. I lit a few candles and set them around the house. Without the television blasting away, or any light to read by, there wasn’t much to do except sit and wait. I was in my recliner and Gherkins was curled up at one end of the couch. Suddenly, as if startled by something, she sprang up and let out an awful cry. I asked her what was wrong, but she only looked at the bookcase which was against the far wall. Then she looked at me, made another cat-like sound and headed down the hall. Knowing by this time that she knew better than I did, I followed her.
In the back bedroom she scooted
under the bed. I can’t follow you down
there I said, just as a tornado crashed through the living room, where we had
been sitting. The sound was deafening. The front half of my house was gone. Most everything inside had been scattered to
who knows where.
The moment it passed I began
surveying the damage. What an incredible
mess everything was. It was difficult
just walking through stuff and stepping over things. I couldn’t even tell what some things used to
be. My heart was pounding, and I felt
sick. I wanted to just sit down
someplace and cry, but various neighbors began showing up. It was
only then I looked down the street to see how widespread the damage had been.
As soon as my thoughts settled
down, I remembered Gherkins under the bed.
I made my way to the back bedroom and called her name. She wasn’t under the bed, or anywhere
else. The tornado had not hit the back
of the house, so I knew she was safe, but where she had gotten off to, I hadn’t
a clue. I searched for a long time and
ended up putting lost cat signs around town. There were no calls about any cats fitting
her description.
The insurance company eventually
rebuilt my house, and the neighborhood, except for a few permanent scars, once
again looked normal. I think I’ll always
miss Gherkins, the cat who saved my life.
And when I think back on my poker winnings, I’d have to admit that maybe
she was a free kitten.
The End
I’m not positive I have it, but here’s the situation.
Whenever I walk into a room I immediately know if there is a bug of some kind. My vision
is drawn right to it. It has never
failed me.
When I am outside, I can automatically spot a bird of prey. It doesn’t matter if it is a Hawk, Osprey, or Eagle. I seem to instantly focus on it,
no matter if it is on the top of a phone pole, or in the grass tugging at a
snake. I just somehow quickly spot it.
We’re all aware of the five senses, sight, touch, sound, smell
and taste, with the sixth sense experiencing some aspect of the spirit world.
I truly believe there is a seventh sense. The Spidey sense. It has entered our knowledge base through comic
book characters, but it is a real thing.
Trust me. I think I'm living it.
zc
Someone I don't know commented on something someone else wrote, concerning something I know nothing about. Facebook then wrote to me saying, "Hey Zobostic, look at this."
Dear Facebook,
I would gladly read about the antics of politicians, listen to complaints about something, gossip, or read the same lame jokes over and over again if you'll send me one nickel for each one I read. Think about it, for just pennies a day you could have Zobostic's undivided attention.
Let me know what you think.
I'll wait here.
We don’t mention
the UFO simply because, #1, People don’t
believe you, and #2, They think you are some kind of kook. None of that, however, takes away from the
fact that we saw what we saw. We were
sober, and more than just me saw it.
It was a clear
evening. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky
and both Big Foot and I saw it at the same time.
Growing up we lived in a small,
brick bungalow, in a Chicago neighborhood where every house looked the same. There were three bedrooms and one
bathroom. Dad, Mom, and I were the only
ones living there. I was eight years old
when it happened.
It was a Friday night and Mom and
Dad were at the neighbors playing cards.
Bridge, I think. I’m not sure.
Even though it wasn’t a great neighborhood, they weren’t worried about leaving
me home alone, as they were right next door.
My bedroom was across the hall
from my parent's room, and the third bedroom was down at the end of the
hall. The bathroom was on the left, just
before you got to the third bedroom. All
this, of course, was long before there were cell phones.
I was watching television in the living room, so the only light in the house was the glow coming from the TV and the little light over the stove in the kitchen. My parents always kept the door to their room closed, not sure why. The door to the third bedroom was always closed, I think so they didn’t have to heat that room. With no one using it, they just kind of sealed it off.
When a commercial came on, I got
up to go to the bathroom. The minute I
stepped into the hallway I noticed light coming from under the third bedroom
door. That made no sense. Nobody was home but me, and no one ever used
that room. I just stood there, frozen –
trying to figure it out. That’s when I
heard knocking on the other side of the door.
Like someone wanted me to open it.
I didn’t know what to do. My mind was racing in all directions. I still had to use the bathroom, my
television program had come back on because I could hear it playing in the
living room. Someone, however, had gotten into that third bedroom and now wanted to
be let out. I was wishing my dad would come back home about now.
I tried to think. How did they get in there in the first
place? If they had broken a window I
would have heard it. There are no doors
to the outside. I wanted to ask who’s
there, but I couldn’t bring myself to make a sound. I just stood there. Then another few knocks on the door. I thought of running towards the front door
and heading over to the neighbor’s house, but my feet weren’t moving.
If I went into the bathroom I could lock the door. I could just hide until my parents got home. At least then there would be three of us. I heard distant voices. There was laughing and then I heard the front door key go into the lock. I opened my eyes and saw my dad standing there looking at me. Then my mom stepped in and said, “Are you still up?”
“Looks like he fell asleep in
front of the TV” my dad said. I looked
over at the television and saw the Indian test pattern on the screen. The television programing had gone off the
air. I glanced over towards the hallway,
and then back at my parents. “I’m glad
you’re home. Did you have a good time?”
My dad said that the neighbor had
told him about a break-in just two doors down the street. Luckily nobody was home when they broke
in. My mother flipped on the hall light
and said, “Off to bed young man.”
I couldn’t believe all that
happened was just in my head. As I walked to my room I looked down the hall towards the third bedroom, but because
the hall light was on, I couldn’t tell if there was light coming from under the
door or not.
zc
on this story. In the event I come
up with a better ending, I'll come back
and change this. Sorry for being lazy.
