The Unfinished Meal

The cat welcomed me with a big smile and a loud purr. I had barely stopped the engine when I realised the front door was open. Who could it be, I wondered. I was usually the first one home. Took me 4 seconds to put the gear into neutral, pick up the groceries and lock up. As I turned around, a gentle breeze washed over me. It was coming from inside the house. Instinctively I looked through the side window.

The stupid cat had nonchalantly strolled right in and was meowing like an abandoned cow. Shut up, I said under my breath. Who the hell had opened the door. Maybe I should just get into the car and leave. To make matters worse, we lived in the middle of nowhere and even if I let loose a blood curdling scream, no one would hear.I wouldn't though. Seriously.

This thought amused me a little and puffing up my chest, I decided to pretend everything was fine and followed the cat in. The stupid one. (we only have one so it wins in this category all the time)

A quick glance around the kitchen. Nothing. Where was that breeze coming from. Did I leave the lounge window open in the morning? Dad had left before me so I was the one locking up. He would kill me, I thought. Quickly shaking my head to distract myself from my dad's motive for murder, I walked down the corridor towards the lounge. I felt the breeze more strongly. It was a bit different from the general air in this place, minus the males (and cat) breaking wind. It felt musty, almost like the breeze you feel when you stand too close to a waterfall. I didnt like it.

Two more steps and I was in the lounge. Nothing. Where was that breeze coming from, I thought in frustration. I must admit, I was a bit scared too. You know the kind of scared you get when you don't know whats really going on, and you can't yell at anyone to find out. That kind of scared.

The cat ran between my legs ahead of me. As brave as I am usually, I almost jumped out of my skin. Oh well, I dont really need my skin anyway. Eh, who does. I did formulate a quick plan though. The back yard, the farm down the road, and the small creak at St Francis meadow were some of the options where I could bury the cat once I had killed him. A quick evil gleam in my eye which dissipated when I saw the couch.

There, lying in its loneliness was a half eaten plate of roast potatoes and ketchup. I felt proud when it occured to me to touch the plate. At first I didnt know why I was doing it but when the warmth penetrated my fingertips, I realised that whoever was in here, didn't leave very long ago. I placed a little piece in my mouth. It was quite good.

I forgot about the strangeness of the situation for a moment. Food does that to me. But not for long though. Turning around, I tried to locate the source of the breeze. There! The corner curtain flapping in the wind. I was at it in a jiffy and the closed window created an eerie sense of calm in the room. I didnt see the note at first but for some reason, I began to wonder why the cat had gone quiet.

It was written in our expensive waxy paper. Even I wasn't allowed to touch that. Large scrawly child like handwriting and the darn cat was sitting on it. He seemed to like the smell of the ink. I think if we gave him whiskey, he would like the smell of that too. I shooed him away and picked up the note. It read:

"I am sorry I ate your food. But I have been walking around in this desolate place for days and havn't seen a soul. (Obviously you didnt walk very far I thought because there was a town 40 minutes away. )

Your front door was unlocked and there was noone at home. You don't keep much food here do you. Anyway, I managed to find some potatoes and didnt know how to turn on the stove so settled for the oven instead.

Thank you so much for your kindness. As I write this, I am beginning to feel human again. I drank the milk too, although I don't think the cat will forgive me for it. You have a nice house, and really nice smelling bathrooms. Leaves, moss and bracken make for really bad toilet paper, I have discovered. (Ah ha,I thought a thief with a sense of humour).

I ate the cheese in the fridge too. I hope you understand. As I write this, I can hear someone coming up the driveway. I better go. Oh shit, I think I left the gas on and the oven running. Please turn it off when you get in and thank you once again.

Cheers, Larry.

Thats when the explosion hit me and I don't remember much else.

...The Falcon...

Stuck...

...The walk home...

..zooom! The red honda whistles past me at an unnecessary speed. The frown bearing crease on my forehead deepens as I shake my head in irritation. The heat wasnt helping either and my walk back home seemed to require more effort than usual. Sigh.. nevertheless, I trudge on.

Work finished about 20 minutes ago. I past the mountain road sign about 2 minutes ago so it has taken me 18 minutes to get here, 5 more than usual. If only I hadnt stopped to look at that road accident. I am suprised at myself for such a thought. What had happened? It all seemed a blur...

Kids shouldnt be allowed to ride bikes on the main road. They are almost always going too fast and they are more susceptable to jumping curbs and skidding wheels etc. I had read somewhere that kids dont grow their sense of maturity until they are in their mid twenties. This fact was proven right approximately 6 minutes ago. At the traffic lights for the 4 way intersection. The sun had been glaring as usual, the sweat had just started to drench my collar and the car driver was looking the other way when it happened. I was taken by suprise.

Two weeks ago, the exact same thing had happened. Except, I was walking to the store round the corner and another wretched bicycle kid had done the exact same thing. Except that at that time, it wasnt this bad. I can still remember the mangled tyre, and the smashed cell fone. How could I forget, it happened just 7 minutes ago. And it wasnt something one can erase so easily. This one, will last me a while....

You can never really anticipate these things. I guess thats why they are called accidents. The rugged looking kid had just hooted at a young girl before turning around and riding hard in my direction. He didnt see the car. He should have though, because I did. I had tried to warn him, but then I saw the headphones. All I could do was point and suddenly.....

<...The Falcon...>

....Dance With My Father....

Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
How I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I'd play a song that would never, ever end
'Cause I'd love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I'd listen outside her door
And I'd hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I'm praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don't do it usually
But dear Lord she's dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream

By Luther Vandross

The shadows sing out in a mournful tone....in the absence of light, even shadows are without peace. As eeriness envelopes the atmosphere, the impact of silence once again begins to bother me.

Profusely sweating, I attempt to bare the humidity and smothering heat, while at the same time, keeping my flashlight low and pointed to the ground. Sometimes covering the nozzle with my fingers, while trying to execute the excrutiatingly painful task of keeping calm. Drip, drip, drip... I fail terribly every two or three steps. The sun won't be up for another five hours, I realise. I try fruitlessly to convince myself that everything will be alright, that everything that has happened this past night, was indeed..... alright!