by Becky Norman
“Well, I didn’t call this thing. And I want it to leave me alone,” Iftakar stated angrily.
Noel watched him, breathing deeply, slowly. “They’re here to help us.”
“I don’t want its help!” Iftakar yelled.
“Why are you so angry?” Noel asked coolly.
“Just tell me how to get rid of it and mind your own business,” the stranger said crossly.
Noel reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he had prepared for this meeting. “Here’s my address,” he said, extending the paper. “Jeret and I live not too far from here in an apartment. Why don’t you stop by tonight after 7:00 and we’ll talk? I might be able to help you with your visitor.”
The paper was snatched from his hands and Iftakar huffed off in a fury. Noel watched him go, sighed, and went to phone the rest. He needed them all together tonight.
**********
Lori didn’t make it to the apartment in Toronto until shortly before 7:00 herself; with the wintry roads and the chores at the farm it had taken her awhile to make the trek down the 403. She was pleased to see Lynta was cooking again – it was always a treat to taste the exotic concoctions the Senegalese put together. She inquired about the fainting spells and was relieved to hear there had been no more unnerving incidents.
Jeret gave her a bone-crushing hug and she laughed at his enthusiasm in seeing her again, but Noel was sombre and reclusive in juxtaposition and her laughter faded away when she saw his expression. Jeret had headed off into the kitchen to help Lynta with supper, so Lori moved over to stand next to Noel. She tugged on his sleeve lightly, hoping to distract him, and he glanced at her with a sorrow in his eyes that surprised her.
“Hey,” she said, concerned. “Are you okay?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile and he gathered her in for a gentler hug than the one his roommate had delivered. “I’m much better now that you’re here,” he murmured, squeezing her gently. “I just wish I knew why this particular person was entering our group.”
Noel had explained to her briefly on the phone what he anticipated was going to happen tonight. Lori wasn’t any more excited than he was to meet this Iftakar person since anyone who could make Noel tense was bound to have some issues, but she wanted to provide support to her friends and so firmed her jaw and vowed to stick it out.
Someone – probably Jeret – had put a soft flute-and-piano jazz album on in the background, no doubt trying to calm the atmosphere a bit; Noel was lighting a few lavender- and lilac-scented candles around the living room. A bubble of hysterical laughter welled up in Lori but she suppressed it firmly – it did seem, however, that they were making every attempt to keep things at a calm level tonight and encourage a spa-like atmosphere.
She wandered into the kitchen and offered to assist with setting the table. Lynta smiled and nodded, pointing at the stack of dishes and silverware sitting on the counter, waiting to be distributed. Everyone seemed to be unnaturally quiet this evening, as though they were hiding in the long grass, trying very hard not to be seen. The silence disturbed Lori to an even greater intensity than her friends’ careful precautions had.
She placed the white, square plates over the decorative table mats gingerly then tucked glasses in the upper right-hand corner, almost holding her breath as she did so. When she had begun laying the knives, spoons and forks to the side, there was an odd sound at the door – not quite a knock, but more a bumping against the heavy wood.
She turned to see who Noel would reveal as he swung the door open and immediately looked down. She and the others in the kitchen sighed with relief. The cats – all of them: Mist, Shadow, Tuft, and Jeret’s jaguarundi – slid into the room with the assured self-confidence and grace of their kind. They prowled the environs with purpose, sniffing and seeing with senses that far surpassed the human world and then came to rest near the kitchen but within sight of the door.
“Have you gotten his name yet?” Noel asked, nodding at Jeret’s cat where it laid at ease against some of the kitchen cabinets.
“Well, it sure isn’t Tuft,” Jeret joked as he grabbed one of his own snubbed ears.
Lori chuckled and was relieved to see Noel smile, too. The cats’ presence was relaxing everyone, at least partially.
“He’s got the most unusual colouring,” Lynta said, kneeling down by the smaller of the cats in the room. Unlike the greys and blacks of the other felines, the jaguarundi’s coat was a burnished red, almost like that of a mountain lion.
“It’s almost like red sand,” Lori added. When she had spoken the last word, the jaguarundi looked up at her and blinked wisely.
Jeret grunted in response and knelt down next to the cat, as well. “Do you like that one, buddy? Sand?”
The cat twisted slightly so that he was looking at them from an upside-down position and gently put out a paw for Jeret to take. The human supported it for a moment then caressed the animal’s compact cheek. “Then Sand it is,” he affirmed.
Noel was looking down at Sand, as well, smiling slightly as the jaguarundi contorted its body into a question mark, both contented and playful at the same time. “He definitely has your personality, Jeret,” he remarked. “Always the clown in the group.”
Jeret looked up and winked; he was about to make a retort when there was a definitive knock at the door.
All of the cats’ heads immediately swung to attention and the group of people braced themselves for what was to come. The tension in the air was palpable and Noel turned to look at everyone before opening the door.
“Just be yourselves,” he said quietly. “And remember, love over fear.”
Iftakar came into the room like a thunder-head.
“It won’t leave me alone!” he wailed, striding into the room with the caracal hot on his heels. “Make it go away!”
Both he and the caracal skidded to a stop, however, when they saw the other big cats in the apartment. Shadow and Tuft were the first to approach, bigger and bolder than Mist and Sand. They stood on either side of Noel, exuding a calm that at least stopped Iftakar and his friend in their tracks for a few moments.
Lori took in the wild eyes – enhanced by the white rings around them – and elongated ears of the East Indian and felt for him at once. At least during her transition she had Noel and the others to assure her everything was going to be alright. How terrible to be going through it alone. But he’s not alone, she reminded herself. He has all of us if only he’ll trust us to help.
Iftakar gazed around frantically at the group, breathing heavily. “What is this? Some type of sick cult?”
Noel shook his head. “No cult,” he answered quietly. “And you are a part of it whether you will it or not.”
He rested a hand on each of the cats at his side then turned side-on to Iftakar, welcoming him into the apartment. “Why don’t you come in and meet the group? We’re getting supper ready and we’d encourage you to stay and learn more.”
He led the way to where Jeret, Lynta, and Lori were standing near the counter.
“This is Lori – she’s a horse-trainer and friend to the snow leopard there, Mist.”
Lori extended a hand but was greeted with a cold glare from Iftakar. She stepped back, offended and nervous at the same time.
“You already know Jeret from the zoo – he belongs to the jaguarundi called Sand.”
Jeret nodded at Iftakar.
“And this is Lynta, who is with the Lynx known as Tuft,” he said pointing at them. “And the black panther is Shadow,” he added, stroking the big cat’s head in appreciation.
Iftakar had not paid further attention after the introduction with Lynta and remained facing her with fury washing over his face as he took in her deep maroon garments.
“What is she doing here?” he demanded.
Noel raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Do you know her?”
Lori turned to gauge Lynta’s reaction, bu
t the tall Senegalese clearly had no idea of who this angry little man was.
“I know her kind,” Iftakar said bitterly. “She’s Muslim, isn’t she? It figures you’d associate with them.”
Lori saw Lynta’s eyes narrow and a soft growl came from the lynx at her feet.
“All peoples are welcomed here, Iftakar – including you,” Noel said.
“Do you have something against Muslims?” Lynta asked through stiff lips.
“Lynta,” Jeret said in an aside to her, “love over fear.”
She glanced at him, calmed visibly as she looked into his eyes, and nodded.
“Oh, you bet I have something against Muslims,” Iftakar responded hotly. “They’ve wreaked havoc on my people for centuries – half of my village is dead because of them! Not to mention what you did on 9/11!”
Noel insinuated himself between Iftakar and Lynta, but remained in a neutral stance. “That’s a pretty wide brush you’re painting with, Iftakar. You do understand that there are extremists in any culture, don’t you?”
“Huh,” he retorted. “They’re all the same.”
“I would ask one thing of you tonight,” Noel said with a harder edge to his voice. “You are more than welcome to stay and we do want to help you...but in return, I would ask you to keep an open mind. If you close yourself to other possibilities and go only with the reality you know, this won’t work.”
Iftakar gave Noel a stony look and said nothing.
“That’s an unusual name,” Jeret put in, trying to lighten the mood. “Iftakar. It kind of just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”
“Are you mocking me?” the East Indian asked, turning his anger on Jeret.
The blond lifted his arms, palms out, with a glimmer of dark humour in his eyes. “Oh, I assure you I’m not. I’m just making small-talk, friend.”
“Well I don’t appreciate it,” Iftakar snapped. “That’s all I ever heard when I came to this country ten years ago... ‘Iftakar falls off the track, take a crane and put it back,’” he mimicked in a high, waspish tone. He swung his angry eyes back to Lynta. “And it was the Muslims who teased me more than anyone.”
Lori moved closer to her friend, not daring to speak and draw his wrath down on her, but not wanting to leave Lynta alone, either.
“But it wasn’t me,” Lynta said coolly. “I’d ask you to remember that. I have no argument with you.”
“Will you stay, Iftakar?” Noel asked, resting a hand lightly on his arm. Lori noticed that the muscles were rigid under Noel’s hand, but Iftakar didn’t pull away.
“No,” he said shortly. “Not if she’s going to be here. Just tell me how to get rid of this cat and I never want to see the lot of you again.”
“Well, you won’t like what I have to say then,” Noel replied, drawing the man away from the group and leading him back towards the door. “There is no way to get rid of them, as far as I can tell. They are a part of you once you’re chosen.”
Lori saw Noel glance briefly at her then look back to Iftakar. “I’ve only seen one cat no longer attached to his human. And that was because his human died.” She swallowed thickly, remembering Cody and the tawny mountain lion who had come to her after his death.
“Are you threatening me?” Iftakar asked, rearing his head back.
Noel shook his head. “No, just stating a fact. But I would caution you. Even in death, the cats might follow.”
Iftakar pushed Noel rudely away and stormed out of the apartment. The caracal paused in the doorway, looking with longing at his feline companions, and then departed.
*********
The caracal at the zoo fell ill. Jeret and Noel stayed with it around the clock, trying to encourage it to eat, wrapping it in warm blankets when it shook violently, and squirting bottles of saline solutions into its mouth to keep it hydrated.
A week after his outburst at the apartment, Iftakar returned to the zoo. Noel saw him standing outside the caracal’s enclosure, looking unwell and emaciated himself. Noel elbowed Jeret where they sat keeping vigil over the sick cat.
“He’s back,” Noel said softly. “Can you handle this alone for a bit? I’m going to go speak with him.”
Jeret nodded, suppressing a yawn. “Yeah. Have fun.”
Noel wasn’t sure if Iftakar even knew he was there at first; he just remained standing in front of the partition with lowered head and glazed eyes, but when Noel was near enough to speak, the East Indian talked first.
“What’s happening to us?” he asked in a cracking voice.
“You’re soul-sick,” Noel replied gently. “You need to heal from the inside, Iftakar, or it will destroy you.”
The man laughed feebly; Noel could see he was fighting back tears of exhaustion. It had clearly been a rough week for him.
“How do you heal, Noel? Tell me that. How do you repair gaping holes that have been torn throughout your body?”
Noel reached out and cupped Iftakar’s elbow, steering him to a bench nearby. “Slowly. One hole at a time,” he answered.
“But I don’t have enough time,” Iftakar said bleakly, crumpling down onto the seat.
Noel joined him. “You have all the time in the world,” he contradicted. “But you have to stay on course, Iftakar. No more of this giving in to hatred...seeking violence as the means to an end. I’ll tell you something that I’ve learned. Every thought you put out there into the universe can become a reality – your reality. But those thoughts you direct to others will come back to you ten times magnified.”
Iftakar turned his head towards Noel, listening carefully.
“Every thought of anger...ten times stronger directed back at you. Every thought of revenge...ten times. Every thought of killing...ten times, Iftakar,” he said, squeezing the man’s hand to impress the point.
Fear crept back into the East Indian’s eyes. “How do you know?” he asked hoarsely.
Noel gazed at him for an infinite moment. “We are all one,” he softly answered.
Iftakar looked deeply into Noel’s eyes and Noel let all the love of the universe pour out of his glance.
Iftakar took a deep, ragged breath. “If what you say is true...then there’s no hope for me.” His eyes misted over with despair.
Noel shook his head slowly. “There is always hope, Iftakar – always. But you must discipline yourself. Whenever you catch yourself thinking a negative thought, think two positive ones to balance it.”
Iftakar turned dead eyes on Noel. “It’s not enough, Noel. And you know it.”
Noel hesitated. “Maybe not this time around. But you do have time. You’re carrying so much hurt...so much damage, Iftakar. But you are always loved. Always. And you will heal...when you choose it.”
Iftakar shook his head, not believing. “It’s too...hard,” he said. “I don’t have the energy for...discipline...like that,” he mourned, then folded himself up against Noel and sobbed until nothing remained but dry heaves.
**********
It came as no surprise when the next day, Immigration knocked on the door and asked to speak to him about a woman named Lynta Bah. She had been taken in for questioning, they told Noel, after being accused of Islamic terrorism.
Noel closed his eyes briefly, stunned by how quickly Iftakar had done his work, but snapped himself out of it and invited the government representatives into the apartment to discuss the matter.
He assured them Lynta was no threat to anyone. Was she here legally? Yes. Had Noel seen her papers? Yes. Did he know who was sponsoring her? Not directly, but he knew the name of the couple who was. Had she ever spoken of other religions in a negative light? No. Had she ever indicated she was involved with terrorism or threatened a person in Noel’s hearing? Certainly not.
The questions went on for well over an hour and despite Noel’s best assurances, he felt his answers had not been as effective as he could have wished. They still suspected Lynta and were keeping
her detained until they had spoken to Jeret, Lori and others, as well. Noel heard the door click behind the officers as they departed and leaned against the frame, heaving a deep sigh.
What could he do? He didn’t know any international lawyers and certainly didn’t want Lynta caged up while they continued to investigate...but he was helpless to provide solutions. The only thing he could do was meditate, pray and direct all of his energies into a positive resolution. Noel sank onto the floor, sitting cross-legged near the door, and centered himself with deep breathing. His visualization went on for six hours, until Jeret returned to the apartment.
**********
The deceit was staggering. Every time they thought they had Lynta out of danger and had provided proof that would set her free, Iftakar retaliated with some other malicious rumour that had to be investigated. When it was discovered that Lynta had forgotten to obtain a certain document that had been required upon landing in Canada, there was serious talk of having her deported. It had been an innocent mistake, with the new immigrant not understanding all the directions, but it was a costly misunderstanding. The days became grim for all of Lynta’s friends as they sought to clear the taint around her name and get her released.
Finally, after a week in custody, she was allowed to return to her sponsors’ home in Toronto, where she was to remain until the final legal red tape could be neatly snipped, rolled up and stored away for future use. Noel and Jeret breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they saw their friend sitting on the couch in her sponsors’ home and both encircled her with arms and love upon greeting.
She assured them she was alright and despite the fear and uncertainty of not knowing if she would be allowed to stay in Canada, she was feeling confident things would work out in the end.
She asked about Lori; Noel assured her that she had been told the good news and would try to get up to see the group the following weekend. With her classes now in full swing, she had a more difficult time getting away from the area quickly. He was still in phone contact with her on a regular basis, though, and she wanted Lynta to know she was also praying for her. Lynta smiled at that and reached out to touch both Jeret’s and Noel’s faces in a grateful caress.