The Cat

"There's a Black Cat out there."
"Where?"
"Right there - see him?"
"There is no cat."
"He is so small."
"There is no cat."
"Can we at least put out some water for him?"
"There is no cat."
"Please!"
"Fine!", the woman says as she puts out the bowl of water for me. She looks just in case I exist, but she doesn't believe in me. The man has seen so many things through his window in the last several months of his long illness. He's either scared or seeing things. He's scared of people and places that have been fixtures in their lives since they were first together, young and so much in love. And he finds solace in the sauch as me, a black cat the woman cannot see.

They are still in love, but they are not young any more and there are more chores and carrying for than laughter. That is why the man can see me. I let him laugh, I let him remember. They have some tender times because of me. A memory is revisited of other four leggeds in their lives, which leads to more stories of family and better healthier times.

The man started sleeping more. He didn't ask the woman to put out the bowl of water as often. She ceased to look for me. He saw me less as the sleep became more of a friend. They talked less and remembered hardly at all. There was only deafening silence.

"Look at the cat, he's playing on the fence."
"There is no cat and the fence came down years ago."
"Look at him!", the man laughed. And for a moment his woman smiled - even though there was also a tear. He laughed and she she looked out the window and lauged too - determined to enjoy his cat, whether she could see it or not. He clasped her hand. She looked in his face and his eyes were so clear. They saw each other and kissed. The first kiss not of habit in so long.

This moment lasted long enough to give her comfort in the coming days. He fell back asleep in time and she rested with him, he still holding her hand.

The woman awoke in a start. She knew. She waited a moment and gave him one last kiss before others would come to take care of things now.

"She will be so lonely." the man told me as we walked away.
"I know."
"Will I miss her too?"
"Yes."
"Will we come back for her together?"
"I will bring you when it is time."
"Since when did a Black Cat become the Angel of Death?"
"Since you found joy in seeing me. Afraid still?"
"No."

As the man looked back and he saw all the ruckus of vehicles and people and his body being removed from the house. I started to walk between his legs making him pay attention to me.

"We will return for her. Race me to t top of the hill?"

The man winked and I let him win - since I am an Angel and all.

Traci K. Couch Feb 13, 2009