Catlady

She didn´t own an old family photo album to leaf through on days where she felt lonely. She didn´t even have a single photograph.

Only a few pictures on the wall of glamorous film stars she had cut out of newspapers she used to wrap the food for the cats in. That way she could share in their sparkle that would bring back familiar smells of peppermint and cologne. For the briefest of moments, she would let nostalgia woosh through. A sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place in a distant time, enrobed in yet other smells of slightly damp soil and lush forests. She would permit herself to linger in a detonation of the sweetness of lilies of the valley and myrtle mad Augusts. Of sugary vapors, pot roasts, and sweet potatoes; a repertoire of a far and old connection wafting through… for just a few twinkles.

- “Are you coming, Nessie?”

On drizzly days her mind seemed to wander further than usual.

- “Where are you, Nessie?” she called out to a dog of thirty years ago. “Don´t you want to come for a walk with me?”

- “There you are! Come Nessie, let´s go.”

A little old lady with snow-white hair, who probably forgot her own name since nobody was ever around to speak it out loud.

People looked down on her. on good days they would call her dirty old cat-lady. On lesser days, their tone would vomit even more disdain.

She had bad hips and plenty of other conditions that made her life difficult, but she never complained. 

She walked to the riverbank twice a week. A lot of cats lived there. She brought them food she carefully prepared and packed, put it in a worn-out shopping bag on wheels she dragged behind her, as she walked small steps. Nessie was getting old, and her little legs were no longer able to trip quickly, just like her own tired legs. She didn´t mind people laughing at her, for walking a dog of thirty years ago nobody could see. NO, she didn´t mind at all. She could Nessie, her old faithful companion; a cocker spaniel from thirty years ago, or even longer…

All the way she would smile. Amiability emanating from her face. She loved those cats, and so did Nessie; never once had she chased or harmed a single cat. She knew them all by name and would get terribly worried when one of them wouldn´t show up. In her head, she would go over every possible scenario of what might have befallen the little creature.

She would sit there for hours in the tall grass, Nessie by her side, chewing on a bone. Some cats would jump in her lap and listen to another chapter of her life so long ago. The older she got, the more she appreciated animals over humans.

At sunset, she would walk back to her little house in a dead-end alley. Her little humble abode; remains of industrial workers housing from before the last war. There was no doorbell, what would have been the point of that? nobody ever came by, and if they did, they could simply knock on the door.

She would spend her days behind yellowed curtains, looking at the world and the days passing by, dragging life in their track.

Nessie would nap at her feet, and she would smile the biggest smile, revealing a few missing teeth. Sometimes Nessie would stand on her hind legs and give her a few cups. That was Nessie´s way of letting her know she wanted a cookie.

She would get out of her chair and walk to her tiny kitchen to get some cookies she bought at the market on Thursdays, put them on a little saucer with edges that were gilded upon a time, and would sit around a small table, covered with a tiny carpet for a tablecloth.

The air was musky and filled her little house with floating dreams. Every speck of dust a fragile bubble of hopes lost to a life that happened before she ever had the chance to set her dreams free. She enjoyed Nessie nibble at the cookie, and her face would light up as she reveled in remembrance of happier times filled with youth and expectation.

As time went by, she got tired. She began to dream up stories about perdition and deliverance. She yearned for release.

She had been dreaming of trains lately. One particular train; and she was on it. Nessie was there too, at her feet. Sometimes, she would wake up in the middle of the night, only to realize it was the whistle of a locomotive in her dream. It had been an eternity since she was on a train.

Hope had risen with the sun. She knew where she was going today.

She put on a mousseline scarf around her head, picked up her handbag, and wondered if she would ever be granted the smell of her earthly land as a pleasant reminiscence.

- “Are you coming, Nessie?”

She took in a long last look at her tiny house, smiled at the film stars on the wall, and started walking. At the corner of the street, she stopped to breathe in the fragrance of the blooming lilac.

Always short on money and luck the future had never been anything but more of the same.

- “Time to go, Nessie! We leave no goodbyes behind. And no regrets.”

Embodied in a suspension between two places she walked; head held high, Nessie walking beside her, towards a forlorn station with a disused railroad. The old tracks would dazzle her nonetheless.

She opened the little gate to the platform and sat on a dilapidated bench; a tribune to enjoy the sceneries of a life passed by.

Her departure planned. Her fair paid.

No other people were there. No luggage was thrown around by careless travelers. Just an old clock whose arms stopped swaying ages ago. No longer counting time. A mute witness, to a little old lady with snow-white hair, smiling the biggest smile, revealing a few missing teeth and her little dog, only she could see, to keep her company.

A last passenger waiting on a grand old engine to roll in, taking forth on a soothing ride to shores she´s yet to know. It was time to move down that unknown path, and she was going to bear it, away on a magnificent train, towards the comfort and the sweetness of a peaceful abode with boundless light. And warmth!

- “Won´t be long now Nessie. Listen! Can you hear the whistle?”

No regrets, the scent of rain… the lyrics of her journey to the end in a withering crescendo.

- “Come Nessie; let me pick you up. Don´t be scared now. I´ll hold you in my arms.”

In a compartment all to herself, she put Nessie on a cushioned seat and watched the world go by.

The engine puffs, the doors slush close and off she bears. A little old lady, with snow-white hair, revealing a few missing teeth when she smiled her biggest smile, with her old faithful companion from thirty years ago.

Stamping on dazzling tracks on the railroad to eternity. Away to the sweetness of peace. Exiting this world of bygones and fragile castles in the air.

Release was here!