I grinned at Teresa and continued following her to my table. As soon as we arrived she placed a „RESERVED‟ card beside the lit candle.
She smiled at me and then returned to her post. I walked over to the buffet bar and then asked one of the hostesses to fill up my tray with various foods and drinks.
She was helpful the whole way, even bringing back everything I‟d ordered to my table and smiling thereafter.
I thanked the hostess with deep sincerity and then began to eat my fill. Before my eyes were four pancakes, a couple of fried eggs, toast, fruit cocktail, milk, juice, pop and coffee.
The syrup, margarine, cream and sugar were already on my table.
As soon as I finished my meal I leaped onto the carpet and then walked to the cashier‟s station. I leaped onto the counter, removed a $20 bill from my pouch and then handed it to the cashier. I didn‟t give a tip. Under the circumstances I was taking no chances. I knew that my copying machine could die out on me suddenly. In that case scenario all I‟d have was the cash on hand.
Besides, I wasn‟t being a cheap kitty I paid for my meal.
After I left the restaurant I headed to the Stopover Motel.
This motel contained roughly one hundred rooms. The Main Office was situated underneath a beautiful arch decorated with a painting of Yellowstone National Park. I got the jitters because I‟d always wanted to visit that beautiful park. Unfortunately, I couldn‟t divert to that path. I had too many enemies in the U.S.
Sooner or later someone with a detective‟s knack may figure out my true identity. Then my life would collapse like a fallen deck of cards.
As soon as I was at the doorstep of the Main Office I scanned the area. The gardener was watering flower pots situated nearby. There were a dozen of them and I must admit they looked very beautiful.
I entered the Main Office ready to make a reservation at any cost. I needed a good rest before I resumed my trek northward.
Sitting behind the counter was an elderly man, perhaps in his early to mid-seventies, greasy haired and slim. He was wearing blue overalls and an old gray cap that couldn‟t hide the greasy hairs below his temples.
The elderly man was reading a newspaper entitled Midwest Farmers. I knew the guy looked out of place.
“Hey kitty, how are you and how may I help you?”
“Sir, I‟d like a room for a few days, if possible.”
“Well, you can call me BJ. I‟m originally from Nebraska. My parents and grandparent were farmers. But nowadays, it‟s hard being a small time farmer. I sold my farm to a corporation that 60
couldn‟t care less about farming or their relationship to the community.
Kitty, I‟m not the only one in this situation. There are people who are much worse off than me. I was lucky to have a small farm and to sell at forty percent market value. Some folks went bankrupt and didn‟t have protection.
Kitty, some of them folks took their own lives. You see the vegetable farming and animal farming industries are becoming cold-blooded big time corporations. Not all of them though. I can‟t condemn them all. I have no right to do that.
I moved to California eight years ago. I couldn‟t handle living in my home town any more. Farmers‟ kids are going off to college and simply not coming back. If they do come back they‟re not doing farm work. It‟s like ... umm it‟s like a shame to be a farmer nowadays.”
BJ was weeping like a child. He appeared to be holding back his story and tears for a special tenant. Thankfully, that tenant was me. Maybe it was because I was the first cute cat face he‟d seen in those years in California. Who knows? Anyway, I leaped onto the counter, stood on my hind legs and then cupped BJ‟s face with my paws.
Thereafter, I gently stroked his cheeks while giving him kind kitty talk.
“BJ, listen to me! Look, you‟re an incredible asset to this country. Farmers, good farmers who have sons and daughters that do chores on the farm are what made many a country. You people feed citizens and visitors too around the world. Without food, everyone would die ... even the zoo animals.
So be proud and thankful for all the work you did before losing your farm; you‟ve done a lot for this country. Wipe those tears from your face and give me a big farmer‟s smile.”
“Kitty, thanks for the beautiful talk. You know something this is the first time that I‟ve smiled in years.
Kitty, you can stay in the Stopover Motel for as long as you please for no charge. And if you want, Martha and I will adopt you. Martha‟s my beloved wife of fifty five years.
Nowadays, it‟s a miracle to see a marriage last for fifty five months. Even our marriages and families are breaking up.”
“That‟s right, BJ. But listen, I‟m in a big hurry. I‟ll spend the night for free?”
“It‟s all yours. Here, take this key for room #12. And don‟t sleep for a while because I‟m sending over a big treat, okay?”
I nodded my head, grabbed the key with my teeth and then left the Main Office.
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Room #12 was adjacent to the swimming pool. I wasn‟t in the mood to swim at the time. I wanted to go to my motel room and rest up.
As soon as I entered my motel room I closed the door behind me and then leaped onto the bed. I dared not close my eyes because I wanted to hear the upcoming knock on the door. I wasn‟t sure what the big treat was but I wanted it anyway.
That knock came roughly twenty minutes later. I leaped off of the bed and then dove for the door knob. After opening the door I took a few steps back and to the side.
A young man dressed as a waiter was standing behind a food cart. As soon as he saw me move back he asked me if he could enter my room. I nodded in the affirmative.
The waiter removed several plates, two glasses, utensils and a jug from the cart and then carefully placed them on the only table in the motel room.
“Kitty, no, no tip necessary, Mr. Gardner told me not to take anything from you. I guess he loves you dearly.” The waiter grinned at me, turned the empty cart and then left my motel room.
But before he left, he turned to face me and then stuck out his right hand palm facing up. I guess it was a reflexive action. Some waiters and waitresses have that habit.
I gently closed the motel room door, took several steps towards the table and then leaped onto it. I was ready to eat my fill.
The food was covered with metal lids so I had to remove each lid to see what was underneath it. But I could smell the contents before seeing them.
As soon as the last lid was off I took a deep sniff and then stared at my food for a half a minute or so. I was temporarily paralyzed.
Before my eyes was a 16 oz. sirloin steak, thick ruffled fries and veggies, garden salad topped with Italian dressing, a couple of buns, honey and margarine, coleslaw, cornbread, milk and orange juice, tea, vanilla sheet cake and pudding, and a one litre bottle of water.
To tell you the truth, I was momentarily on top of the world. I would‟ve settled for a fraction of the food therein, however, I wasn‟t complaining.
I began to chomp down on my food, grinning and feeling very thankful for having my fill.
It took me forty five minutes to complete my meal; everything including the water. By then, I felt like a satiated lion after a good kill. I didn‟t want to do anything but sleep.
But I also didn‟t want to be awakened by room service in the middle of my sleep. Someone had to pick up and return the 62
plates, glasses, bottle, lids and utensils. And it surely wasn‟t going to be me.
I called room service. Thankfully, the person who answered the phone wasn‟t BJ. I wasn‟t in the mood for a long conversation. I just wanted to hit the sack.
“Hello, this is Michael from room service. How may I help you?”
“Yes, I‟d like someone to pick up and return the tray in my motel room. Could you send someone over to room #12 please?”
“Yes, she‟ll be on her way in a jiffy. Please open your door so she can enter your motel room and remove the food cart.
That way, if you have something urgent to do you can do it immediately afterwards.”
I opened my motel room door and waited patiently for room service. Surprisingly, it only took a minute or so for a skinny creamy-coloured woman to show up. She didn‟t say anything, but waited until I allowed her into my motel room.
After I waved her in, she entered my motel room and then retrieved all of the motel property on the table. She left the room without uttering a single word.
I leaped onto the curtains and then held on really tight. I took a long peak just to make sure that room service wasn‟t spying on me. Thankfully, the coast was clear.
I turned my body forty five degrees to the left and then leaped onto the bed. Instantly, I fell asleep like a little baby.
I must‟ve been out cold for many hours. When I came too I realized that I hadn‟t officially checked into the motel. BJ
hadn‟t asked me to write my name down or to show him any I.D. It was better that way. Taking advantage of the situation I decided to exit the Stopover Motel without being noticed. It was 8:45
P.M. That worked to my advantage.
Just to be on the safe side I leaped up onto the curtains and held on really tight. I stretched my neck to my left and then scanned the area for passersby. Thankfully, there was a temporary lull in traffic. Even the swimming pool was empty.
I leaped onto the carpet and then headed for the motel room door. I opened the door, left the motel room and then closed the door behind me.
But before leaving the motel I carefully walked to the Main Office and then dropped my room key into the mail slot. With my room number on it there‟d be no harm to BJ or the hotel staff.
Their property was promptly returned.
But then, a large crowd of youngsters was fast approaching the swimming pool. I knew that the lull in quiet within the pool area was only temporary. Anyway, I lowered my head and walked straight to the exit, not being noticed by a single youngster.
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Even the security guard I passed on the way out didn‟t see me.
He was busy eating his donut and drinking his coffee on the job.
It was all the better for me.
I entered Manson Street taking a left immediately afterwards. I had no time to waste. I needed to continue my trek northwards. I couldn‟t trust anyone for the time being. Sooner or later I had to cross the border into Canada.
It took me fifteen minutes of speed walking to reach the mouth of the entry ramp into the highway. If I could get a ride from here, it‟d be northbound, perhaps to northern Oregon or even Washington State.
I waited anxiously for thirty minutes until a gigantic semi pulled over beside me. Not knowing what the intent of the driver was I placed myself on red alert, ready to run or if necessary fight to the death.
A long-haired man rolled down the window and then began to converse with me.
“Hi young fellow, my name is Billy Bob I‟m from Alabama; I‟m heading north through Oregon onto Washington. Do you want a lift?”
“Yes Billy Bob I certainly do. And may the Confederacy return with a vengeance.”
“Ha, Ha, Ha kitty, how did you know I was a „closet Confederate?”
“Billy Bob, I have a knack for things. I‟ve conversed with countless humans and animals. I felt a rush of „Confederacy‟ as soon as you spoke to me.”
“By golly, kitty, c‟mon in and where the heck are you going to?”
“Well, I‟m going as far north as you can take me, wherever that may be.”
“Kitty, how about I bring you along into Canada. I mean, you‟re American or Canadian, right?”
“Yes, I certainly am.”
“Look, kitty, I don‟t want to take any chances, okay. See, you being a cat and all. Canada Customs sometimes gets really nasty about animal vaccinations, permits, identification and quarantine. I‟d love to get you through Canada Customs but I can‟t do it in the orthodox way. But, I know how. Look, just stay here with me until I turn into the rest area right before entering Canada. I‟ll tell you exactly what to do. It‟s an old trick that many „drivers‟ have used. It‟s fool proof if you follow the directions to a tee.”
“Okay, Billy Bob. That‟ll be just fine.”
Billy Bob and I conversed until daylight, taking with several breaks for food and rest. Billy Bob was a really nice 64
guy. His long hair, overalls, pot belly and southern accent gave him unique character.
We reached central Washington along the Pacific Ocean when Billy Bob dropped a bombshell on me. At this point, I‟d kind of expected it, but was still thankful for all he‟d done for me.
“Kitty, please forgive me, but I‟m too scared to sneak you across the Canadian border. I‟ve got a super-special delivery to make and if I‟m busted they‟ll put my name on the „Special Canadian Blacklisted List‟ for ten years. In other words, I‟ll be blacklisted on the Canada Customs computer for ten whole years. Every time I cross the border into Canada I‟ll be forced to poop in my overalls, stink up my semi and be questioned by authorities.
Kitty, I really love you ever so dearly, but you know something, I have a wife and three kids; two girls and a boy, that is. They‟re young and need their daddy to support them.
You see, the people I work for are really tough. If I make their corporation look bad they‟ll fire me on the spot. I have to pull over as soon as we reach the outskirts of a town or city.
Kitty, here‟s $200 dollars in $20 dollar denominations. I want you to take this money and spend a couple of nights in a motel, eat well and then hitch a ride into Canada. I don‟t think it‟ll be a good idea for you to take the orthodox way into Canada.
Kitty, I know for a fact that something or someone is on your tail. Whomever or whatever it is it‟s not very close to you but nonetheless I know for a fact that you‟re worried.
Kitty, that‟s one of the reasons I never asked you what your name is. And that‟s why I gave you my nickname. It‟s better this way, even though I love you a whole lot. If you lived in our home I‟d love you as much as my own kids. You‟d be fed exactly what they were fed. I‟d work my butt off to help provide for you.”
Billy Bob was crying intensely, tears were streaming down his cheeks and his voice was shaky and choppy. I knew for a fact that he wasn‟t faking it.
Then, something weird happened. Billy Bob‟s face turned red and then as pale as a bloodless corpse.
Billy Bob pulled over to the curb and then stared intently to his left. Gosh he looked like he‟d seen a ghost.
“Kitty, by golly I just glanced over in that direction, I mean to my left a few seconds earlier and didn‟t see a thing.
But now, I see the outskirts of an entire town. Even the florescent town sign is visible.
Wait, maybe I‟ve been driving for too long. After I drop you off I‟ll drive on for a few more miles and then take a nap.” 65
Billy Bob withdrew a stack of 20 dollar bills from his wallet and then offered it to me.
I held out my right paw in a defiant „no‟ indicating that I was embarrassed to take so much money from him, but he refused outright to take back the gift he‟d already made up his mind about giving me. I understood.
Before I exited the semi I leaped onto Billy Bob‟s right thigh, got on my hind legs and then cupped his face with my paws. I gave him a kiss on each cheek and wished him goodbye and the best of luck.
I turned and then leaped out of the semi. By the time I landed onto the ground Billy Bob had shifted gears and begun his drive onwards.
Time was flying by like a jet airplane. It was already deep into the afternoon. I scanned the area. Luckily there was nothing out of the ordinary so I continued my walk to Woodville, that‟s what the town sign read. The neon sign was easy to read.
As soon as I was within spitting distance of the town sign I took a deep breath, paused for a moment and then continued onwards entering Woodville a bit confused.
I couldn‟t forget what Billy Bob had told me about not noticing the town sign or any part of the town. I too didn‟t notice it a few seconds earlier. The neon sign was so large I couldn‟t understand how I didn‟t spot it with my peripheral vision. I didn‟t ponder about the issue for long through. I had to proceed with my life.
Behind the sign was a beautiful park containing a wide field of manicured grass, scattered flower beds; trees that were perfect for perching on, scaling, sitting under and admiring and an incredible array of houses.
The park was divided into two halves. A path leading directly to residential areas was carved in between the two halves. The path was roughly two hundred yards long and thirty feet wide.
I stopped for a brief moment and again pondered to think about the neon town sign. I‟d never seen a sign like that illuminate on a hot and sunny day. Once again, I decided to forget the matter and move on. I was gradually becoming hungrier and thirstier.
As soon as I was across the street from the residential areas I realized that I had a choice of numerous streets to enter through. I randomly chose Underwood Street located three blocks to my right, and I approached it with the sun‟s rays hitting my left side with great intensity.
The streets were too polished, and for some unknown reason I couldn‟t hear a single bird singing. Furthermore there was an 66
unusual spookiness in the air. I couldn‟t place my paw on it.
But really, I had no choice but to proceed with my trek.
Underwood Street contained the usual amenities found in posh neighbourhoods except for a thing or two, but what were they? I wondered.
I walked for a total of four blocks before noticing the first unusual thing. Incredibly, I was walking in the middle of the street. Perhaps there was a subconscious reason for it.
Then, a flash thought entered my mind; there was no traffic from any direction. There was an eerie dead calm.
There were vehicles in garages and vehicles parked in front of homes. But the cars were too polished. I turned left and approached a dark green Pontiac.
I gently tapped on the driver‟s door only to hear a hollow echo-like sound. It was too hollow at that. Naturally, I wanted to investigate the matter so I leaped onto the door holding onto it so I could peer inside the Pontiac.
To my utter shock, I saw what appeared to be the design for a toy car, but this toy car was gargantuan in size. I grabbed hold of the doorknob but it wouldn‟t turn so I pulled on the door.
I was able to rearrange my position to leap into the interior of the car. I had to further investigate this matter.
There was no leather in the Pontiac. In fact, everything was made out of plastic but there were cheap strips of aluminum therein. I took a deep sniff, detecting absolutely no gasoline or motor oil in the car. Furthermore, it wasn‟t an electric or solar operated car. It was there for the eyes only.
Now, I became more acute to the abnormalities and peculiarities surrounding me. I exited the Pontiac and then looked intently at the tires. They weren‟t real. No automobile could move with those tires. Furthermore, even if the tires were stronger they were fixed in place.
For a moment I was confused, but shortly afterwards confusion metamorphosed into fear and apprehension.
I continued walking on Underwood Street but now I was more aware of the situation. I was ready to bolt from danger. As such, I placed my senses on red alert.
I walked for another seven blocks before beginning to feel a bit drowsy. I spotted a gargantuan tree with several thick bushy overhanging branches. I chose one of the branches ran to it and then leaped onto it.
I took numerous cat naps, refusing to sleep for the time being. I had no idea of the dangers that I could possibly face.
At 6:30 P.M. I decided to follow my instincts, using my senses of smell, hearing and vision to locate food and water.
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Although I knew for a fact that I was an incredible cat I still needed nutrition.
I descended the tree and then continued walking on Underwood Street until I noticed a large mansion just ahead and on my right. Mansions have always been a powerful attractant to me. Cats love big homes.
I crossed the beautiful green lawn heading to the giant double doors. These doors had large golden-coloured handles.
Above the giant doors was an arch and on each side was a pillar of sorts. I admired the architect who‟d designed the mansion. It was fit for a king or a prince. But, if I was the only living being around, it would be fit for me.
I scanned the area intently before entering the mansion. I didn‟t want to take any chances entering a sort of spider‟s web.
Thankfully, there were no visible dangers.
I leaped up onto the giant golden doorknobs and then pulled in a downward motion. There was no movement. So, I pulled in an upward motion. The same result.
I leaped onto the walkway and then pulled the door open. As soon as I entered the mansion I was awe-struck by its beauty.
Everything including the overhead chandeliers, mirrors, the paint on the walls, paintings aligning the walls, the blue carpet, and the doors that aligned the long hallway were free of any dust, residue or signs of wear and tear.
Then suddenly a sharp gnawing pain hit my gut. Thankfully, it was brief but it was a fear-apprehension type of gut pain, not a medical type.
Everything looked too good to be true. In fact, the design appeared to be similar to the Pontiac I came across.
I continued strolling through the hallway, seeing giant toy-like furniture in every room. I entered one of the rooms and tried to pull open a drawer but couldn‟t. There was nothing inside it anyway. It looked like a giant toy.
As soon as I re-entered the hallway I searched intently for the kitchen. Because the hallway was roughly one hundred yards long it took me a while to find the kitchen.
The kitchen looked like the set on a cooking show. But I couldn‟t have cared less what it‟d looked like. I just wanted to eat.
The first thing that I did was open the fridge. Fantastic!
Therein, I saw cold sandwiches, chips, drinks, and desserts.
Although the chips obviously appeared out of place, I brushed it off. There were much larger peculiarities to worry about in the area.
The first thing that I grabbed was a plate consisting of a tuna sandwich, chips and coleslaw. I grabbed hold of the plate with my powerful teeth and then leaped onto the kitchen floor. I 68
was so hungry I didn‟t bother to get the other foods and drinks I was craving for. I decided to rip open the plastic wrapping and dig into my main course.
But as soon as I ripped the plastic wrapping off the plate I sensed that something was wrong with the food. I took a deep sniff but detected no rotting odour. In fact, what I did detect was no odour whatsoever.
I gently pawed the food, realizing that it was fake, made out of plastic and wax. Furthermore, it was room temperature. In my haste I‟d forgotten to scan the fridge beforehand.
I violently tossed the plate like a Frisbee making it strike the kitchen counter with incredible force.
I scanned the kitchen again searching for something beneficial to use or take. Then, I took notice of the water faucet. Maybe I could get a satisfying drink.
I leaped onto the counter and then turned the water faucet on. Nothing came out of the water faucet. I also noticed that there was no water residue anyw