The Waiting Room

by Michael White

  My study downstairs has a small set of French windows which I can open up onto a small patio outside. The area is surrounded by a high fence of six foot or so, a ledge of wood running around it. This is where I place my plants during the summer though currently as it was winter they were empty. There is a large clay pot off to the right which contains a small cherry tree though of course at this time of year it was all branches and potential buds, but this was the only item in the patio at present. In the summer I will drag a chair out there to take the sun but it was empty at this time of year.

  So I opened the door wide and Aloysius wandered over more out of curiosity than anything I should imagine. She sniffed at the open door and looked at the snow in a curious way as if trying to assess its purpose or function. I smiled as she dipped one paw in the snow and then withdrew it, meowing almost to herself in shock. The she licked her lips and strode out onto the snow as if it was not there. Out she went, exploring this new territory without any sign of anything untoward at all.

  It was quite cold out there of course and although I had the fire in the grate lit the room soon got quite chilly. It was not a concern however as Aloysius soon came back indoors and settled back down on the rug in front of the fire almost in the same way as I would imagine a dog would do. She did give me a suspicious glance when I closed the French windows though but that was the end of it.

  Over the next few weeks this turned into a nightly event and as she grew she began to look more at home in her outdoor surroundings. She started looking at the fence with its shelf half way up but she did not pay it much heed, spending all her time on lurking around the cherry tree. At the same time she kept a careful eye on myself to ensure that I did not close the door on her. Not that I ever would of course.

  My sister called just prior to Christmas, laden with presents and the like and she was greatly surprised to see how much Aloysius had grown. It was not as apparent to myself of course for I saw her every day, and whilst I could register that she had grown I was not as aware of it as an outsider would obviously be.

  “Has she been outside yet?” she enquired as we sipped tea in my study. The cat was asleep on the leather couch, eyes firmly shut and she had the look as if she was about to start snoring, the sound of which never failed to amuse me.

  “I let her into the courtyard beyond.” I pointed and she nodded in approval.

  “It won’t be long before she starts bringing birds and mice in.” she smiled. To my surprise I realised that she was right, though I had not given it much thought up to that point. Still, it held few horrors to me, for I was a hunter myself and if truth be told I was relishing the idea for it was a coming of age rite to my mind. I had bagged my first deer at the age of eleven and so the thought held no fears for me. It was just natural behaviour and I knew it would happen eventually whether I gainsaid it or not. As the first few months of the new year passed Aloysius continued to grow. By the look of it she was never going to be a large cat; certainly not as big or as fat faced as a tom cat but she filled out nevertheless. Her claws were now quite long, and her teeth considerably sharper. She was getting ready to hunt.

  On the first relatively mild day of the year Aloysius was playing outside in the courtyard. The sky overhead was grey and threatened rain and a stiff breeze was blowing from the west but it did not seem to put the cat off. She was having great sport with a leaf that had blown over the fence when suddenly she stopped and looked at the fence above her as if she had noticed it for the first time.

  It was as I say a good six foot high but had a wooden shelf on it for plant pots at about four and a half feet. That she could jump the fence itself was of course an impossibility I stood in the doorway fascinated as she seemed almost to shrink into herself, tensing her back legs before springing high into the air and landing on the shelf itself half way up the fence. I must have gasped as she turned and gave me a look that seemed almost self-congratulatory before hopping up the few remaining feet onto the top of fence. She stood there wobbling on the fence top sniffing at the air and looking all about her as if she were the Queen of the world!

  I stood there unsure as to what to do when all of a sudden overhead there was a loud crack of thunder and heavy drops of rain began to fall. Aloysius looked at the rain in disdain and with a hop jumped down onto the plant pot ledge before leaping down to the ground and then inside the door by where I stood. She rubbed herself against my leg and meowed loudly as if requesting me to turn the rain off as if it was myself who had turned it on in the first place!

  The rain was hammering down now but I was worried. The shelf on this side had obviously assisted in her climb to the top off the fence, but what if she jumped down into the gardens beyond the fence? There was no such fence on the other side and she would be trapped! I have ten acres out there and she may panic and get lost in them. I was not ready for this of course and as we both stood in the doorway watching the rain I realised that I had to act.

  I made to the scullery and fetched a hammer and a crowbar. I strode out into the pouring rain and spent the next fifteen minutes removing the shelves from the fence whilst at the same time getting soaking wet. Eventually all of the ledges were removed and the problem was therefore solved. I reasoned that by the time she was capable of leaping to the top of the fence without aid then she would be able to get back over the fence from the other side, and I made a mental note in my head of the date and expected that in a month’s time this was likely to be a daily occurrence.

  Aloysius watched me from the shelter of the door giving me a look that suggested that I had perhaps lost my mind but she stayed resolutely indoors whilst I worked, obviously avoiding the rain. Returning the tools to the scullery I drew myself a bath and retired for the night.

  The next day was breezy but fair and so after I had fed the cat I retired to my study and as Aloysius meowed about my feet I opened the French windows and went to fetch more tea from the kitchen. Upon my return I was amazed to find the cat balanced on top of the fence! I scowled at the fence panels, checking them quickly to ensure I had not missed removing one of the shelves but I had not. The cat meowed at me as if to register her triumph and despite my misgivings I could not help but laugh. She had out-foxed me already!

  I sat for my tea having moved the chair to where I could see most of the patio beyond and soon enough she jumped down to come and harass me for a nibble of my morning biscuits, which she always got. Having succeeded at this she approached the fence again and leapt through the air, just getting her front paws onto the fence top before pulling herself up. I applauded her achievement and then with almost a human like shrug she jumped down the other side of the fence and was gone.

  I felt bereft but almost physically restrained myself from opening the courtyard door on the far side of the patio to see where she had gone. Minutes passed by during which my tea and biscuits were ignored. Eventually there was a loud thump against the fence - obviously a failed attempt - and then another bang and a twin set of paws locked onto the fence and Aloysius appeared, almost grinning and dragging herself up, then balanced on the top of the fence. She walked along there a few times almost as if revelling in her new found ability before jumping back down on my side and retiring to her basket where she slept for quite some time, even by her standards.

  As the weeks passed by the year began to turn and she became bolder. On several occasions I opened the courtyard door after she had disappeared and watched her off across the fields, stalking butterflies and moths as he went, for late spring was now upon us and the nights were becoming lighter and the French doors were open all day more often than not. I sighed as I realised that her kitten days were behind her and although she was still a feisty character I lamented the loss of her dependability upon me. Surely soon I was sure I would receive my first mouse or bird.

  Yet there was nothing.

  I watched her with a bird atop the fence one day. She was more than capable of leaping to the top of the fence but she seemed loathe to do so. As I w
atched her it became apparent to my learned eye however that it seemed to be much more the case that she simply did not know what to do next. I chuckled to myself for surely a cat’s ability to hunt was instinctive? I found it strangely ironic I must say to find that such an accomplished hunter as myself had seemingly become the custodian of such a reluctant paw.

  In early summer my sister returned and was astonished both at the cat’s size and also her hunting record.

  “Not even a mouse?” she enquired after I had related to her Aloysius’s progress with regards to hunting so far.

  “No.” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “Not a damned thing.”

  “How odd.” smiled my sister, sipping at her tea,

  “She does seem very good with butterflies, moths and spiders.” I smiled. Hardly had a single spider in the damned house since she arrived. Moths do not last long either.”

  “I can see the advantage of that.” she said. “Perhaps she was a little younger than the person I purchased her from informed me.”

  “Why do you think that has a bearing on anything?” I enquired, puzzled as to what she was referring.

  “Well I am no expert.” she smiled. “Yet I suspect that kittens pick up some hunting skills from their mothers even in a domestic setting. It may very well be the case that Aloysius missed out on her schooling as it were.”

  “Makes sense.” I mused, studying Aloysius who was presently curled up asleep in her basket, snoring contentedly. “Poor mite.”

  “Perhaps you could teach her.” my sister giggled and I smiled.

  “I doubt if she could handle a twelve bore!” I said and we both laughed.

  Yet further observation of the cat’s behaviour seemed to suggest that my sister had pretty much hit the nail on the head. When approaching a bird or possibly even a mouse, Aloysius seemed completely uncertain as to what to do next. She would crouch, stalking; but if she got anywhere near a bird she would rush at it madly and of course once the bird saw her it was up into the air and away, leaving the poor cat with its teeth chattering on the ground, a sound of frustration cats were wont to display. I had discovered this by looking it up in an encyclopaedia in my library.

  So summer set in and I was given to wandering around the grounds. As I have stated I live alone and the upkeep of the house can be a nuisance though it is not beyond my means. The only part of the house that I have left to its own devices is the old barn. I do not keep animals or farm my land and so I see little point in maintaining the building. It stands separate from the house by a good fifty yards and used to hold a large threshing area that is open to the elements, the front end of the barn having been removed. The building itself is tall, actually taller than the house itself and I would estimate from floor to apex to be a good fifty feet at least. Because of this there are a set of ledges and ladders on the inside that grant access to the roof but I would not trust them with my weight these days as they seem rotten and twisted. The roof itself has sunken somewhat now but is still stable, and a large ladder is attached to the far side should any repairs to the roof be necessary, though I do not see the point these days, though I suspect it remains a much safer route to the roof than the steps inside the barn. It is a useless building as far as I am concerned, empty and swept by the elements. I have seen Aloysius sneak into it many a time and yet she always returns with nothing. If she cannot catch anything in there she really does require schooling! Yet she always seems content and so I wonder sometimes if my regard for her lack of success in hunting is of more my concern rather than hers.

  In the summer months I am plagued with pigeons, particularly around the south side of the house and also the barn for not only do they roost inside it but it seems on most days that the roof of the barn itself is covered with the damned things. Stupid birds they are; little more than flying rats as far as I am concerned and so each year I load up my shotguns and have a cull.

  I believe it is quite normal behaviour by the farmers and land owning classes about here as the damned things are little more than a nuisance with their constant noise and mess filling every roof and gutter. Of course shooting one is no sport at all for they are fairly large and of course they all fly away when the gun goes off but seconds later they are back, giving me a fairly easy time to casually reload. Normally I do this for a few hours over the course of a few days but this year for some reason I decided to start with the barn, for it seemed they were concentrating their efforts on that particular part of the building.

  So I took the shotgun from the gun case and picked up a box of shells and filled my pockets with them. I made to lock Aloysius indoors for surely the gun would frighten her, but she was nowhere to be seen. I assumed she was off prowling about the house and so I locked her in and made my way around to the barn.

  True to form, there were at least three dozen of the pigeons on the barn roof making a hell of a row and so I quickly loaded up and set to work. It was easy pickings. The stupid creatures could not even recognise that they were in danger and once I had downed one and the noise of the shot faded away they quickly returned ready for me to have another pot at them. Towards the end of my days shooting I noticed Aloysius sitting on the fence that bordered my patio, watching me intently. She had obviously not been in the house when I had locked up but she kept her distance no doubt concerned about the sound of the gun. She was probably equally intrigued by the amount of dead birds lying on the ground around the barn.

  I was getting tired now as I am not as young as I used to be, and it was nearly time for my mid afternoon nap. My final shot therefore was just a little off the mark and although I winged my target the pigeon I had hit flew across the slate roof but was not sufficiently wounded to either have the grace to die or fall off the roof at all. It just lay there fluttering wildly making a hell of a racket. Sighing to myself I reloaded and took aim. I was reluctant to waste shot on one of the vermin but I was not going to put up with listening to it squawking all damned night!

  It was then that I saw out of the corner of my eye Aloysius racing past me and entering the barn. I lowered the gun and broke it so as to render it harmless. I was curious as to what she was up to as she had completely ignored the birds lying dead around the barn as she went. I stood there for a minute or so waiting for her to re-appear but of her there was no sign. Minutes passed and I considered going into the barn to see what she was up to. The half-cocked gun was still in my hand and the wounded pigeon was still on the roof squawking away like a mad thing. It was as I turned my attention to the bird that I saw another small shape emerging from where I knew the steps inside opened onto the roof itself.

  It was Aloysius! Slowly the cat edged along the apex of the roof, approaching the wounded bird until she sat no more than ten feet away from where the bloody thing lay, twittering madly but apparently unable to move as the cat bore down on it.

  “Go on girl!” I shouted, though my heart was in my mouth to see her up on the roof, but my misgivings were equally tempered by the sight of her preparing for the kill as she neared the pigeon.

  And stopped.

  “Come on Aloysius!” I shouted, my heart racing with the sight of her balancing up there but at the same time elated that she seemed to be joining in the hunt. But why had she stopped? As I stood there watching her she just sat there looking at the bird as if unsure as to what to do. I shouted at her again and I swear she turned to face me and meowed loudly as if asking for help. For God’s sake!

  Without pausing to reflect upon what I was doing I threw the gun to the ground and raced towards the barn. The steps inside that led to the roof were definitely in poor repair but the ladder outside seemed sturdy enough and reaching it I began to climb. Half way up I was out of breath and had to pause for a few seconds, clinging to the rungs before I continued upwards.

  Eventually I reached the top and hauled myself over what remained of the gutter. There was a small runged roof ladder leading up to the apex of the roof but the condition of it seemed poor, and as I scrambled up sever
al tiles fell away crashing down to the hard stone floor of the disused barn some fifty or so feet below. Through the gaps that remained I could see the rafters and structure of the roof was in an appalling state, though this should not have surprised me for it had been at least twenty years at least since I had allowed any work to be done on the barn at all, preferring instead to let it fall into disrepair. It had never been a concern before.

  Still somehow I scrambled up to the apex of the roof and stood upright, balancing myself carefully with both hands outstretched. About thirty feet away sat Aloysius watching me with curiosity. As I looked at her she meowed loudly and turned to face the wounded pigeon that was still fluttering away madly about ten feet the other side of her.

  “Go and get it Aloysius!” I shouted rather nervously as I now began to realise just how high up I actually was. “Get the bird! There’s a good cat!” but she just turned to me again and meowed loudly before turning to face the bird again. “Oh for God’s sake!” I shouted and to my shame I saw Aloysius cringe slightly. I changed my tone instantly. “Never mind Aloysius.” I said, my voice now smooth and emotionless. “Let me show you how.” I said, and began edging along the apex of the roof moving slowly as I did so. The cat remained motionless as I drew near until I was only about three feet from me. The roof was creaking ominously now and several tiles went skittering over the sides of the rafters before crashing down inside the barn and shattering on the solid stone floor far below.

  The cat was in my way of course and I was loathe to leave the safety of the beam across the top of the roof on which I stood and so I stepped over her and she did not budge an inch as I did so. Further forward I went towards the fluttering bird which despite its imminent demise seemed to be watching me very carefully. Behind me Aloysius meowed again and I took a few faltering steps forward and swooped on the bird and with one deft motion wrung its neck before it even had the time to realise I had hold of it. My sudden movement was not my wisest decision however as the roof below my feet gave an ominous cracking sound and I am sure the beam moved downwards a few inches. It was time to get down!