One thing that I hate the most about this thunderstorms and crazy rain is that turn me into horrific looking creature.
When rain came pouring suddenly, cats will frantically try to run away from their playground. Some retain their sanity and run toward the house, while the others were distraught enough to run toward their damaged cattery, and trapped there with millions of leaks across the cattery’s roof to shower them, and a few waterfalls flowing from the sides of the cattery that render them helpless as they have no where else to run.
Every time it happens I will come pick them up and carry them one by one from the cattery to the house, holding an umbrella in one hand and the cat in the other, walking back and forth through muddy backyard until there are none.
During the travel if the cat is calm enough to be carried at my side, they will just stay put. If they are too terrified and lost their mind, all the way through that 40 feet long backyard they will be yelling, clawing and biting me, leaving many bloody wounds that often give me scar mark on my arms, side and neck, sometimes my ears and cheek.
The creature that I try so hard to protect and rescue, are fighting so hard against me.
Then to make things worse my mother will nya nya on the phone whenever she has chance reminding me that I am a woman and a woman supposed to have a flawless skin instead of stripes all over. She will continue to complain about how I should take care of myself to the point that I almost lost control. And we know mothers. No point talking against them because they will just go round and find yet another reason to nya nya nya on us.
There is one solution for that though, but I don’t want to go around my house handling cats while dressing up like Sir Galahad.
On those days the only thing I can do is go out of the house to cool myself down, sometimes by leaving my cell phone at home so I don’t have to pick any call or answer any messages until my head cools down.
And then on one of those days, while sitting in a public transport, I saw a white and tabby cat lying on its side on the pedestrian under a garbage drum.
Since the traffic was so terrible I have no trouble jumping off the car and straight to the cat. He was thin and cold and lifeless, and I know that whatever I do, he probably don’t have much time left, so I just rap him in my jacket and walk away from the main road, where I can cradle and comfort him as he made his journey across.
He done so immediately, and very quickly, after he turn to see my face and meet my eyes. There was a glint of gladness pass through his dilated eyes, before he turned back and gone for good.
It will take hours if I take another bus home, so I walk with a dead cat in my hand for the whole hour, trying to converse with God on His reason sending a cat my way only to die in my arm minutes later.
I got home with a self-found understanding that perhaps that cat’s last wish is to know how it feels to have someone who love him, and since I am nearest to the location He dispatched me to answer the call and for that, I am honoured.
Unfortunately the long walk made me late for my physiotherapy appointment, so I have to take another queue and in effect, get back home even later at night. I don’t worry so much because although it’s the last bus, the route I take is never empty and the roads it passed is always crowded.
It was magical when at one point on my way, that crowded road is suddenly quiet for a few minutes, and we all hear a kitten’s loud cry for help.
It’s not just my imagination. I look around and saw everyone is stunned for a while that moment, as the car glides on and left the pitiful cry vanish further back.
The first to react is a young woman sitting beside me. She went straight back to her Blackberry and type as if nothing happened.
The next is me. I said ” Driver sir, please pull over as fast as you can, but do it safely”
So for the second time that day I jumped off midway; but as I walked back to the place where we heard the cry, I found nothing.
I thought I stopped at the wrong place, so I continue walking, back and forth around three or four times but lost the voice.
Then the rain start to fall, and if I don’t jump on the next vehicle I will have to walk back home under showering rain in the dark cold night.
I whispered “Anyone called 112 My Lord?” (112 is Indonesia’s 911).
I stopped at the porch of a closed shop, pulls out my rain coat, and caught a glimpse of a rolling tennis ball a few meters ahead.
Curiosity kills the cat (lady) so I walk closer and seemingly found the yelling culprit. A kitten as big as a tennis ball that’s not even able to see clearly yet.
The transport was coming so I just pick it up and put it into my bag, when a homeless woman passed behind me and say “There were two”
I lift myself up and replied “There’s only one, where’s the other?”
The woman laughed, and continue walking.
To stay (and look for the other kitten) or not to stay (and catch the last bus) that’s the question.
I stayed. I look around and under food stalls nearby but I found nothing. The baby in my backpack cried several time but no answer, so after a half an hour going round the place I put on my jacket and start walking; when I heard a familiar voice calling behind me
“Hey, are you coming?”
I look around and saw a bus driver grinning behind his steering wheel. I used his route very often that he knows me.
“I thought the other one was the last bus” I told him as I climb up.
“Yeah, the traffic, and this is the end of the holiday season. Every bus is 30 mins off schedule”
I sit on the empty bus, and remember my self- found knowledge that morning. Maybe the baby asked for just one more chance to be heard, and I am honoured to answer the call.
So where’s the baby?