The shed was built of wood, mouldy and rotten. The floorboards let gusts of wind in and a fair amount of rain dripped through the roof. Drafts crept in underneath the door, the door itself rusting away. Perhaps at one time or another, it was a fishing hut, although the lake beside it had dried up long ago, fresh green grass growing in its place.
And so, for this hut to house a cat would be like for a child to live in a tree. This cat, who had never had an owner, was a stray. This showed. Patches of its black fur had fallen out and its ribs jutted out, making the cat look more like a ghost than anything else. It huddled to a rather ragged, brown tweed jacket that had been forgotten there years ago.
The only human thing about this cat was an old bronze fob watch that was tied to a string and placed around her neck. The watch had the design of a dragon on the front and a flower pattern on the back. It wasn’t battery powered or wound up; it was powered by the movement of the cat. It ticked through the night although being drowned out by the thunder and lightning.
Clinging to the old cat was a small kitten, curled up and was no bigger than a small piglet. It was just like its mother, black all around. Except for his chin and neck fur. That was a fluffy white with a small patch of black on its chin, making this cat look as though it wore a tuxedo. Its paws were also white; making it look like it wore socks.
The next day, the storm had ceased, leaving a peaceful, tranquil forest. There was a thin frost over each blade of grass, and the threes glittering as though there were sequins covering them. The sun shone brightly over the forest, waking squirrels from their hibernation. Birds sang and the rabbits began nibbling at the grass.
Inside the hut, the cat still clung to its mother, even though the mother had turned cold hours ago. The sun kissed the two of them, but even then the cat was saddened. It kept to its mother’s side faithfully, hoping to be found eventually.
After many hours, the cat had given up hope. Using its claws, the cat took the fob watch from its mother, placing it around his own neck. The cat made its way to the door with a heart–breaking feeling inside of him. Taking one last look at his first home and at his mother, he crawled out from a crack under the door.
The cat had never been outside before; he had only ever seen from the ceiling and the cracks in the hut. What space there was! It was overwhelming for the cat to believe that he had never roamed around this huge space. Mud clung to his paws and the cat looked at the trees, all of which were new to him. He stood in the sunlight, enjoying the warmth it gave.
He looked at the sparrows flying across the sky. The cat knew what they were; his mother had brought him birds before. However, he had never seen them fly before. It was odd that they could fly, just by flapping their wings.
The cat began wandering and like the pilgrims or the gypsies he had no clear destination. It was just important than he remain walking. With a spirit that could take him to the ends of the Earth, he began walking.
The cat could only walk in time with the fob watch because it was the most reassuring sound he knew, like a baby who will hide behind its blanket. He past tree after tree, experiencing the most wonderful thing in the world– walking.
And then he saw a sparrow, nesting on the ground. It was gathering sticks and twigs that were scattered across the ground. An amazing instinct pumped through the cat’s brain. It’s breathing got quicker and it suddenly found its legs running.
Oh how they flexed! The cat pounced, its front paws outstretched. It sank its claws into the bird, biting it. The bird struggled to get away, thrashing its wings frantically, chirping as hard as it could.
The bird stopped chirping, it stopped breathing. The cat made quick work of the bird, being very hungry from all the walking. The cat decided that birds were wonderful things to eat and that he should catch more of them from now on.
The cat saw how the sun was dipping lower and lower behind the mountains. It was subtle at first and then without a word’s warning, it was night time.
The cat was worried. How could it sleep outside? Yet he need not worry. He curled up beside a tree, resting on some particularly long grass. The cat kept the fob watch close to it, finding the ticking very soothing. The cat closed its eyes and became very proud that he could sleep outside. Then, a quiet rumbling came from this cat– he was purring.
It was a clear and cloudless night, every star was shining brightly. The cat felt as though the stars were watching over him. This gave him great comfort. He breathing got more relaxed and the cat fell into a sleep.
He was sitting in one of the mighty trees! Sparrows were sitting on every branch. With great precision, the cat launched itself at a handful of birds, smacking his lips at how tender and juicy they were. He felt as though he weighed nothing. He enjoyed the idea of being able to zoom around, catching birds left, right and centre.
The cat woke with a startle. A piece of grass had been tickling his nose and had lodged itself into his nose. The cat began trying to dislodge the grass, before finally using all four of its paws. The first rays of sun were peaking over the trees and the cat began his journey.
The cat walked until his saw the end of the forest. He walked out and discovered a dirt road.
A dirt road was odd. There were no trees, just dust. The fine dust swirled in the wind, getting into the cat’s eyes and nose, making the cat sneeze. The cat stepped onto the dirt road, not looking back, determined to only move forward.
A huge, metal box on wheels came flying past. It had black wheels making it move forward with a huge metal box, carrying a man inside it. The man had fur around his mouth and chin and hardly any on the top of his head.
On the back of the metal box was wood that had been cut and placed into a box shape. Inside were many kittens, all clawing to get out. They cried out and tried to slip out but to no avail.
For the cat, this was amazing. He had never seen another cat other than his mother. The cat ran after the metal box but slowly began to tire. Eventually, the metal box seemed to get smaller and smaller until it was out of sight.
The cat decided on a whim to continue on the dirt road. It was important to him. He walked to the side to rest.
There he found a stream running through with fresh water. Eagerly, the cat drank noisily, lapping at the cold water.
The cat was so tired and the water was so inviting that soon the cat had jumped into the water. Water clung to his fur but the cat didn’t mind. It was so thrilling to be in the water.
The cat tried to walk in the water but found that walking in water was much harder than walking on land. Slowly but surely, the walking became a kicking and the cat soon found itself swimming.
It swam for miles and miles until the stream came to the side of a mountain. There was a strange circle. It was metal, with rectangular gaps in it. Murky water was flowing out of it and the cat could smell something horrible. Using his claws to hold on to the dirt, the cat dragged himself slowly out of the water.
A terrible gust of wind took that chance to blow. The cat shivered. It was cold enough but now he was wet and cold. That was the pits.
The cat surveyed the land around him. There was a dirt road that went over the mountain. Fresh green grass covered the land and trees had begun to blossom a bright purple.
The cat had travelled enough for one day. He decided that the best place to stay was underneath a burrow that had been hastily dug underneath the shelter of an old oak tree.
The cat saw a silky yellow ribbon wrapped around the tree and saw one end dangling. The cat thought how odd this was and swiped at the ribbon. As though it was alive the ribbon tried to thrash and get away. This triggered something in the cat and the cat took another swipe. The ribbon waved in the wind and the cat jumped, this time catching the ribbon around one of its claws.
The cat scratched and bit the ribbon, feeling a sense of fun inside of him. The ribbon slid off the tree and hovered down to the ground. The yellow ribbon ended up tattered and torn, with the cat worn out from attacking it. Pleased with himself, the cat snuggled down in the burrow and closed his eyes.
..
The cat was hit the next day by a passing taxi.
“What was that Robert?”
“My dear Marissa, I haven’t a clue. But whatever it was, it probably deserved it”
..
The taxi was populated by a whole of four people. The first and most crucial for the taxi to be operational was the driver, a withered old figure called Edward Trix. Edward or Ed as he preferred to be called was a man nearing the ends of his life. He had spent most of his life driving, driving remote cars when he was a boy, driving tanks in the second Great War, driving posthaste vehicles during the Cold War and finally in the end of his tenure, driving taxi cabs.
The next two occupants went by the names Dame Marissa Birmingham and The Honorable Robert Marx. The two were traveling partners in crime, deceitfully light.
The Honourable Robert Marx was a trustworthy, bright spark. A handsome face accompanied by a cleft chin, brown hair, clear skin and a winning smile. His outfit consisted of a white shirt, cream Panama hat, buccaneer boots, red waistcoat and crisp dark trenchcoat to match. A figure guaranteed to garner respect anywhere.
His companion, Marissa Birmingham, was also intelligent and rather good looking. A slender figure with doe–like eyes, long, light brown hair and a charismatic smile. Dressing in a Gothic Victorian ensemble and a similar black trenchcoat, her appearance was a little intimidating.
On their laps they each had a large traveling suitcase. Robert had an assortment of paraphernalia in his. What Marissa had is a complete mystery.
Also on Robert’s lap was a briefcase stuffed with various papers they had acquired during their travels. It was a sleek black colour, made from fine soft leather. Many a white–collar would have fought over it, the case being the absolute pinnacle of a businessman’s accessory. The lock was firmly in place and a padlock over that lock for anyone with any sense would easily guess the four digit combination.
The fourth occupant was Janet Palin, who after a series of drunken adventures with her best friend Mikayla, had ended up in the trunk of a taxi with Mikayla jamming the lock shut.
So much for good friends.
“Ireland was fantastic” Marissa laughed. “But like video games, talking with Southern and playing pool, maybe it’s just a treat when it’s occasional”
“Yes” Robert agreed. “And to think that the cargo ship was burgled by–”
“So where are we going next Mister Marx?” Marissa interrupted, opening up “The Mystery of Edwin Drood” and flipping to page 54.
“A ferry to take us to England” Robert beaming at his own cleverness. “Isn’t that brilliant?”
“Oh yes Robert, very brilliant. Astronomically, mind–blowing, cosmologically, heathenry,” Marissa said, rattling off all the adjectives that would flit while her mind was still yelling at the characters that the murderer of the story was not in fact the uncle, but Edwin Drood.
“Wait, what?”
“England” Robert repeated, this time getting each syllable pronounced in a slow, patronizing manner.
“Ah to be in the Queen’s country now that winter’s here” Marissa reminisced, putting an old quill in Edwin Drood to mark her page and closing the book gently. “Even though I love Selledrome City, England will always be my home”
“And it’ll be a place where our trenchcoats don’t stand out like glowworms at a butterfly convention!” Robert chirped, his head now aching at having to have it constantly at 90 degrees to talk to Marissa.
The taxi hit a bump. Janet screamed with all the air in the trunk which she wasn’t helping by taking huge panic breaths.
“Robert, are you sure you didn’t hear anything?”
“Nope, as silent as a corpse”
The taxi swerved before coming to a still.
“Here is your destination. Port 42” Ed said, applying the handbrake. “Your fee is $37.08 in cash please ma’am”
Robert fished into his coat pocket, producing a $100 note after finding a tea spoon, a bus ticket, a small copy of “The Devil’s Work by Tim Ernshaw” and what may or may not have been a piece of gum at one point.
‘Keep the change” Robert said, helping Marissa out of the vehicle. “We aren’t bothered by roots of evil”
“That’s very generous of you” Ed smiled, showing off his best feature– oddly white and straight teeth. “Please, call me Ed”
Ed smiled, wondering of how he was going to spend the money. It was currently a toss–up between giving it to his four–year–old grandson for lunch money or going down to the pub and drink back the cares of having kids.
“I think I’ll go down to the pub” Ed told Robert as he turned the ignition key. Driving away, he could already feel the varnished wood supporting his weight and cigar smoke ruining his appetite.
“Well that’s my good deed done for the day” Robert smiled, trying to lift his suitcase which, with the addition of several briefs for his pulp fiction inspiration, was now much heavier than his skinny limbs could lift. He attempted again but only succeeded in telescoping his spine.
Now that’s a wrench in his good mood.
“Marissa…”
“Wimp”
Marissa slowly wandered back to Robert who was currently struggling with two arms and a spinal cord to lift the suitcase off the ground.
“Marissa… help?”
With one hand and a will of iron, Marissa swept up the suitcase and took it to join her case. Robert stood there, weighing the chances of him being insidiously weak or Marissa being heinously strong.
“Marissa” Robert said, even struggling with the briefcase. “You are heinously strong”
“Worried you’re just insidiously weak?” Marissa quipped, heading towards the ferry.
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