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The flood



ginger saved from the drain

Ginger went out into the dark and rainy night. Driven, as if by a force beyond control, to consort with a female feline, the tomcat landed in trouble. As impossible to resist the urge as a drowning man refusing to be rescued.

 

The nagging thought entered Chubby Leon’s mind. A vague sense of dire danger loomed like a black cloud about to explode. Nothing to stop the inevitable torrent from releasing pent up water and drowning everything.

 

Creepy premonitions of disaster often overwhelmed the child. Scary but, for the most part, nothing materialized.


This time the cat’s plaintive meowing resonated above the hissing sound of the rain.


He drew the blankets over his ears, trying to deaden the sound. If he kept hearing it he would have to rush outside, getting soaking wet.


Mother and father at a wedding. Alone in the big dark house, he didn’t want to risk certain death.

 

His natural saviors being away. Saving the drowning kitten would have made him a hero.

 

But what if no danger existed? The accusation, "fool", would again be launched against him, as in the past. Everyone would laugh, as always, at his wild imaginings. 

 

The desire to save his furry friend got the better of him and he overcame his fears. No matter what menace threatened, the task would be undertaken.


Flashlight in hand, pajamas flapping in the wind, he splashed barefoot until he stood weeping, unable to come to the rescue.


The mewing increased in intensity. It screamed in his ears. Unbearable, he tried to block the sound by putting his hands over his ears.


Nicknamed, fat Gork or little Gork, to distinguish him from big Gork and baby Gork. The weakling, the coward, the one who always messed things up.

 

People forever expected things, unthinkable for a person of his poor abilities..


Animals different. Stroking and cuddling them, they returned affection, licking his hand, purring, and wagging tails. People frowned, shook fists, declared him to be useless.

 

Torrents of water cascaded into the drain, sucking kitty in. Pitiful cries came out of the hole. The end drew near with marching strides.


Soon the mewing would end. Kitty’s suffering would end. Leon would be released from the need to do something.


Mother and father, returning from the wedding, dressed in their finery, pulling the car into the garage. Bedraggled, Leon, loomed up like a ghostly apparition.


Forgetting her valuable apparel, overpowered by maternal instincts Hetty jumped out of the vehicle and ran to her soaking offspring.


Bawling like a wounded hyena the child pointed at the drain, “kitty, kitty”.

 

Like a flash the message got across. Many times this kind lady held the cat on her lap as she knitted.

 

Mother used to feed the cat and raised him like one of her children. The feline would lie on her bed and at her feet. Now he got himself into trouble. Her timely arrival saved the animal.

 

Remembering those good times, she crawled into the stony pool holding the trapped tabby, on hands and knees and rescued him.


Fur ruffled and looking ragged, Mitsy dug claws into the savior’s mink coat.

Father purchased this mink, in 1950 at a sale of clothes held by the police to empty warehouses of recovered stolen goods. She wore the coat on special occasions like the wedding.

 

Cleaners and furriers worked for many hours to return it to its pristine elegance. Kitty now soiled it with black tar from the drain. Impossible ever to be cleaned again.

 

Now it would line the feline’s basket in the storeroom, where she slept, when not sleeping on Leon’s bed.


Accused of not taking care of the creature, the boy got blamed for the dismal fate of the precious mink coat.

 

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