Touched by Time and Paws

Passing along these ancient ruins of Ephesus, tourists felt the same nostalgia one experiences when they see an abandoned lot. A sense of human kinship for a time never lived through. A sadness at the remains of what was once a bountiful landmark. The happiness and pride in man-made architecture that has stood the test of time. The immortality of human creation. Travelers could rest easy knowing that one day their descendants would look upon their skyscrapers with the same nostalgia they felt in the crumbling Arcadian Theater. They could almost see the Greeks sitting in the dilapidated seats; listening to a lecture from philosophers or laughing at a comedy.

Of course, they saw nothing. Except for some cats. Which caught their attention more than the history of their ancestors. Families and couples made cooing noises at the sight of cats that prowled out of their reach. There were many names thrown out to these cats. One of the patched mackerel tabbies with a white belly was affectionately named Hercules. 

Hercules was like the rest of her fellow felines. She wove through the crumbling architecture with grace and sat in the sun with every intention of a mid-day nap. When the humans came to explore their domain, it unperturbed them. The visitors didn’t know the ruins as they did. They could disappear and then reappear in the blink of an eye, unbound to the 3D world like the humans were. There was an air of magic within the ruins that translated, to tourists, as nostalgia. Hercules and her furry companions knew the truth. This truth was not shocking to them, far from it. It did not stop them from their daily sunbaths nor their hunts for small birds. Hercules was less of a bird cat and liked to test her luck at the port to see if any fish came in. Today was one of those days. 

Hercules jumped off her stone perch and made her way down to the port, making it there in seconds. She nosed at the shore when a fish finally came in through the tide. She put it out of its misery, eating clean off the bone. She made her way through the port entrance where the spirits of Ephesus began to flood the Arcadian Road.

Hercules strolled past glowing merchants who were selling tools to spirits and oblivious humans. Farmers shouted their prices for their olives and cheese. A mother was bargaining for honey and meat while her children ran alongside Hercules. They were attempting to tug her tail to no avail. Not enjoying the feeling of ghost children messing with her tail she leaped away from them and ducked behind the vast merchant stands. The smell of grains and wine mingled with the musk of merchants working to sell whatever they could. The rocks on the road flitted aside as she jumped out of the line of stalls, the spirits disappearing behind her. 

She dipped into a brush and skidded just out of bounds of an incoming athlete making a very impressive long jump. Hercules scurried out of the gymnasium as the roar of the audience echoed behind her. Cats could teleport between the 3D and spirit world. No one said they were good at it. Trying again, Hercules relaxed; finding herself at the Fountain of Trajan. She walked up to one of the fading stone pillars, taking another nap after her trip. The voices of people dead and alive mingled together as Hercules sank into sleep.

When she awoke it was entering sundown and almost every human, ancient and tourist alike, were gone from Trajan. Hercules stretched and wandered along to Odeon. She slipped behind the seated audience, climbing to the top row of seats. She placed herself near some stragglers in the back who couldn’t get a closer spot. Every seat was occupied. Hercules didn’t care much for the theatrics, but she couldn’t say no to a mesmerizing melody. 

Tragedies had the best kind of melodies. While simple in harmonies, the lyres told the story that the actors couldn’t. The uplifting and light notes gave hope and excitement that buzzed through the crowd. Enter the protagonist. Who ran towards adventures that lie in wait as the lyres quickened their tempo. The soft grass tickled the protagonist's feet as his ego led him through victory. When the notes lost spirit and began a haunting harmony, it left the audience on the edge of their seat. Their protagonist came across an opponent he couldn’t defeat with ego alone. One last hopeful strum of the lyre echoed above bated breaths as the protagonist stood tall one final time. A slow, wistful rendition of the original melody brought the tragedy of greed to its end. 

The crowd clapped and cheered through tears and bittersweet hearts. They mingled with one another, creating bonds that only humans could after experiencing a life that wasn’t theirs. It was a time for their community to come together, to laugh and cry together. Hercules did not need to see their shows, she had to walk around them daily. And their tragedies didn’t have lyres playing in the background so she made her way out of the theater. She stepped between a huddle of trees and appeared at her favorite spot of rest. It sat atop a hill but the structure was anything but mundane. A wonder, some would call it. The immense size and historical relevance made no impact on Hercules. That’s not what made the Temple of Artemis wonderful to Hercules. She ascended the stairs and made her way to the foot of the steps that held up the precious metals and marble. 

Devotees of Artemis came inside the temple with offerings and gifts to the goddess of fertility. Many women found solace within these pillars, confiding in Artemis their hopes and anxieties. Mothers pray for their daughters to be lucky with children. Young women ask for strength as they go through the trials and tribulations of everyday life while carrying a child in their womb. Other women prayed for the other aspects Artemis ruled, like the hunt or chastity. The evening was waning as Hercules waited at the lip of the temple. 

“I’m sorry, did I keep you waiting little cat?” A soft voice spoke out. Hercules looked back at the older woman standing behind her, unimpressed by the lady’s tardiness.

“You must be weary. I’ll sit right here.” The woman adjusted her peplos as she sat against one of the pillars. She altered her position until she found the comfort she was looking for. She looked over at Hercules and smiled, the crow's feet at her eyes and laugh lines deepening. There was a timeless glow to her. She invited Hercules to rest in her lap; as if Hercules needed the convincing. Hercules turned and pawed at the woman’s lap before finding her spot and burying herself for a night’s rest. Hercules twitched her head up towards the woman. A warm chuckle emitted from her as she started to scratch behind Hercules’ ear. The older woman recounted her day while Hercules purred at the appropriate times. Until the moon illuminated the temple, casting a milky glow over Ephesus. 

Fireflies danced around the duo as Hercules fell into a peaceful slumber.