Money Cats

Min Lei the Money Cat greeted the visitors to the Happy Dragon Gift Emporium by waving her ceramic left arm in a gesture that silently greeted customers, ‘Hello, welcome, spend your money here and we’ll both be lucky.’ She was white with red cherry blossoms painted on her belly and a merry, squinty-eyed smile on her glossy face, the eyes like upside-down horseshoes. Her body was rotund like Fat Buddha and though her coat was glossy, her belly was dull and greyish and flat at its apex where patrons gave her a little pat or rub to claim their good fortune.

The boy, Johnny Qiang, went about the business of dusting the Emporium’s thousands of treasures large and small. He swiped the poofy feather duster over shelves behind the counter where the priceless treasures sat: genuine imitation Ming vases, glossy ruby red statues, colorful jade flower arrangements in shades of green, pale lavender, and semi-opaque white. The center aisles were open wooden shelves containing every goo-gaw possible- from China tea sets to gold plated cutlery, from marionette dragons to religious idols, from table linens to fine silk robes. Johnny glanced with disdain at the wall of shelves with the golden ornaments: vases, statues, bookends, and most intriguing- pear shaped urns with lids and colorful braided tubes sprouting from their bases like woven silk snakes with small round heads shaped like the ends of a garden hose. The display made him cringe because to keep this mountain of brass looking shiny like gold, he had to polish each piece every two months.

The small, darkened room at the back had a heavy wood door with an old-fashioned skeleton keyed lock and medieval-looking hinges. The shelves in there contained over two hundred lidded jars of dried stuff: yellow, red, brown and grey powders, dried animal parts like fins, tails, eyes and a plethora of flakes and petals and stalks. The shelves of jars surrounded a clean, uncluttered workstation with small wooden drawers, a Bunsen burner like the one from his science class, a mortar and pestle, and pull-out shelves with all kinds of scissors and tools and sharp shiny knives and real silver spoons.

He’d once let his curiosity get the best of him and had snuck into the room (skeleton locks were easy to pick) and opened one of the truly mysterious jars; he’d only a quick whiff, the smell was like poo but ghastlier and so sharp it tickled his nose. He’d sneezed all that day, his face like a tomato, eyes streaming and bugging. Zumu-Soo had not said anything, but her crinkly purple lips had curled ever so slightly at the edges and her pale wrinkled cheeks sucked in dimples in an effort to control her laughter. 

It was her room, her Fangjishian. Johnny had asked her what that meant, and she said, in Cantonese, it was her word for ‘a room for the master of recipes.’ She spoke no English, didn’t want to, and served customers in the room behind the heavy oak door by appointment only. Her mysterious nature intrigued the boy. He often attempted to ask Jeje-Kai, his great-grandfather, about Chinese magic but the old man always changed the subject and said that was his great-gramma’s business, in both senses of the word.

Johnny tended to Min Lei last. Her waving up and down left paw was a mystery to him when he was a toddler and at the age of nine, he was still mystified by the happy, smiling cat that waved to visitors as they passed the front counter on their way into the wondrous, hodgepodgey depths of the ancient shop. Johnny’s black almond shaped eyes curved into crescents, as dimples formed on his cherubic young face. 

He said to the ceramic cat by the cash register, “Hello Min Lei. Make this a profitable day for us…eh?”

Min Lei’s ceramic arm waved up and down, up and down, like a kitten swatting at a feather on a pole, the little paw fisted like a fan’s at a rock concert. 

Johnny’s great-grandfather came out from the back office and sat on a stool behind the counter, a whiff of sweet pipe tobacco followed and lingered on his shirt. He laid his newspaper down, looked at his great-grandson, and said as he did every Saturday morning Johnny was there, “Ok-kay, let games begin.”

Johnny unlocked the front door and turned the sign in the pitted old window to ‘open’. The sunlight streamed through the single, wide front window and Johnny looked back into the shop and sighed. No matter how often he dusted and polished, the shop looked like a market scene from the 1700th century. 

A mirror caught the morning sunlight, and a bright beam haloed Min Lei like a Christian idol’s in one of those colorful pictures from a child’s bible from the 60's. For a split- second, she appeared to have winked at the boy.

The shop was erected in 1848, the year the first Chinese settlers came. Johnny’s great-grandfather’s grandfather had opened the shop off a side street off Grant Street, in San Francisco. Why he’d opted to open on what was basically an alley was beyond anyone’s comprehension. The gateway to Chinatown was on Grant, the cross-street Bush, the old man could have had his pick of storefronts back then, but he’d chosen one off the beaten path. 

The white locals back then figured he was crazy, the Chinese figured he was into tou guang jing and during the Tang Dynasty, about 800 AD, he’d basically been a human infused with magic. Over the years, the shop had been a reliable place to find magical tools in the form of bowls, trinkets, amulets, and ingredients…but to young Johnny, the waving cat was always the most intriguing.

They had a real live shop cat. LiLi-Fang, pretty fragrance, though she wasn’t particularly pretty and certainly did not smell great. She was a one-eyed, unkempt grey furball, nearly twenty years old, and smelled of mothballs. Her eye-watering breath was of rancid sardines. Though he’d never really liked the cat, Johnny now felt sorry for her so didn’t say anything about the accumulating mouse turds he swept up each day. LiLi-Fang’s mousing days were past. A window in the office was left open just enough for the cat to let herself out to toilet.

The Happy Dragon Gift Emporium was not alone on the secreted alley. Though it was the first, there was another that opened shop in the year 1850. Records are unclear though rumor has it that Johnny’s great-grandfather’s grandfather had had a rival in Tai Pei- an enemy made over the love and loss of a beautiful woman. Or perhaps it had been a warrior-man-thing. This rival had followed him over the seas, vowing to put him out of business with fierce competition-had to prove he was better. The idea was preposterous and through the years it had become more of a bedtime story than one found in any history books.

Jeje-Kai said, “Hmm. Full moon tonight.”

Johnny said, “Gramma making the special then?”

“Ay-yup. ‘Spose so. Squirrel head soup with frog tongue noodles.”

“Gak!”

“Perhaps deep-fried goats’ balls…”

“Grandpa!”

Jeje-Kai ducked his head slightly and glanced quickly towards the back door. “Heh heh heh. Yes kiddo, red pork stew with green noodles.”

Johnny laughed. “If she hears you talk like that, you’re likely to get something equally gross on your dinner plate.”

“True.  Should say testicles, neh?”

Johnny laughed again. “Ugh no, that’s worse.”

Zumu-Soo peeked around the doorway, Johnny’s great-grandpa jumped and said, “Eek.”

Johnny’s great-gramma waggled a thin, knobby finger at the old man and retreated back through the doorway like a ghost.

Jeje-Kai said, “Gads, that look…” he shivered.

“Yeah. She’s a stink-eye master.”

“Here. Go on down to Monie’s and pick her up that wine she likes. You get a coke for yourself too.” Jeje-Kai handed Johnny a ten.

From Grant Street, Monie’s Deli was two and a half blocks south and two east on Pacific Avenue. But Johnny took the long way around, going west through the alley instead so he could scope out the competitor’s shop, Special Lucky Imports. Johnny put his hands to the front window to cut the glare and peered inside. The shop was set up much the same way as theirs was, he saw many similar type items glinting and sparkling and…his eyes were drawn to the cat’s waving left arm. Their cat was black with golden blossoms.

“Spy! Get outta here!”

It was a parade-float of a woman in a pink floral muumuu and green crocs who’d come out the door as silent as a blimp. Her grey streaked hair was severely knotted into a bun on the top of her round head. She looked like a pink snowman, with small beady eyes sunken into the pale flesh of her face, all she needed was a carrot nose.

“Git!” She stomped at him, all a-jiggling flesh and chins.

Johnny said, “We were here first,” though he was blushing fiercely and found the words ridiculous. He backed away but refused to run. He turned and headed south, feeling those small black, beetle eyes boring between his shoulder blades like lasers. He turned right onto the next street, out of her line of sight.

The lights in The Happy Dragon Emporium went out promptly at 8pm on Saturdays- first the outside sign, then the front of the store, and lastly, the Fangjishian’s. The ink black space at the back was the office door left ajar six inches for Lili-Fang to go about her business.

***

At 12:01, the moon rose over San Francisco, bright as a spotlight in a theater, and just as round. The interior of The Happy Dragon Gift Emporium glowed bluey-er as the moon rose above the opposite buildings on Grant Street, the shadows long and crisp. A beam of moonlight lasered through the window and straight into the mirror behind the counter. Min-Lei was lit up in a halo of moonglow instead of sun, but just as bright. 

A swirl of fine silver glitter swirled around her for a couple of seconds, like Tinkerbell’s magic pixie dust, then whisked away.

Her arm ceased its waving motion. 

Min Lei’s eyes opened as her cheeks relaxed. Her whiskers popped out and fanned the sides of her face. She yawned, revealing a handsome array of pointy white teeth.

She leapt nimbly from the counter and another pouf of fine iridescent glitter shimmered briefly as her paws silently touched down. She padded her way elegantly towards the office, her silky white coat glowing in the ultraviolet-like light.

Out in the alley, Min Lei took her time smelling the old familiar scents while detecting a myriad of new. Every time she stopped, she urinated a few drops, and tiny motes of that pixie dust shimmered up briefly, swirling away on a non-existent breeze. She was marking her territory and letting all creatures who ventured by night’s cover that it was, indeed, her territory.

It wasn’t long before she detected the other’s scent. Male, black, full moon activated like her. A Money Cat. ‘Xou-Xou’, from the shop down the alley. She stifled a growl deep in her throat, her ears twitched like radar dishes, alert, full well knowing he was a worthy adversary, as stealthily silent as she was. She slunk long and lithe, close to the ground, following his scent markers. She was furious. His scent over-powered every one of hers. ‘Everything about him is strong…and virile,’ she shivered at the thought of laying with him, curled together like yin and yang. 'Stop it silly cat’, she scolded herself, ‘you sound like a starry-eyed kitten.’

She followed his black cat odor through alleys and darted quickly across major thoroughfares. His scent was strong in a particularly odorous alley favored by some of the city’s more destitute human beings. The scents of rot and human waste and despair were overpowering.

Xou screeched a long ululant scream as he leapt down from a reeking dumpster and onto her back. She howled in anger, she’d been like a shooting gallery duck, swimming along like a target, fur glowing white, right into his trap.

‘She’s so powerful,’ thought Xou, ‘and so clever…and so so so beautiful... Stop it!’

He howled not in anger but in frustration as they tumbled through filth and over a hill of rags. The rags became vertical and verbal, “Filthy cats! Git offa me!” An empty bottle hit Xou on his thigh, and he tumbled off Min Lei, the bottle bumping over the cobblestones of the old street noisily. Crackle, crack, crack, TINK!

Min Lei leapt up onto the dumpster, then onto a boarded-up window ledge then onto a fire escape. She raced up the rickety metal and tumbled onto the roof of the building. Xou was fast on her heels, the metal clanged and tinged as she gauged his ascent. 

He looked around for her on the roof. 

She watched and waited behind a chimney, out of sight so her white coat wouldn’t give her away. Xou limped under her, and she pounced. Again, they tumbled, this time the female with the advantage. 

She sunk her teeth deep in his neck and hooked her claws into his back. Xou howled and tried to shake her off. Tiny fiery sparks flew from their fur. Their eyes glowed, hers brilliant yellow, his electric green.

She felt his pulse against her tongue and his blood tasted sweeter than any pigeon’s or rat’s. He was weakening underneath her and wobbling on his feet. He wriggled his spring-like body to and fro. He clawed his way back to the fire escape and leapt onto the ledge with all his remaining strength. The momentum loosened Min Lei’s grip, she scrabbled to catch hold of his gouged and bleeding pelt. He clung to the grate by his claws. She tumbled off of it and into the night.

At the base of the fire escape, he nudged her limp form. He licked her bloody paws where the nails had torn out and pressed his ear to her chest to feel she if she still lived. She did and he purred and lay next to her, spooning her.

Min Lei opened her eyes. They widened when she felt him and was about to pull away…but he was purring. And they were curled like yin and yang.

He said, “I’m sorry.”

She turned and stared into his eyes, confused. ‘Such beautiful sparkling eyes.’

He said, “It never should have been like this. We fight for reasons the humans don’t even remember.”

“They fight for dumb reasons, always have…but we---”

“---are better than them. We are cats. I am ashamed to have acted like them. I am sorry.”

After a pause, she said, “I too, would rather be allies than enemies.” She tried to sit up, but her left arm was broken. She fell back down and whimpered in pain. She looked into his face again, hopefully.

Xou held her gaze. To her relief, he said, “More than allies. You are the most amazing cat I’ve ever known.” He helped her up, supporting her until she could stand. They made the slow journey back to their own alley. Their alley.

Under the back-office window to The Happy Dragon Gift Emporium, Xou said, “See you the next full moon?”

“I think not. I have purpose here no longer,” she said sadly. She carefully leapt to the opening in the window. He stared up after her for a long while, waiting. At last, as the sky lightened to a depressingly grey dawn, he turned away and slunk into the remaining shadows.

***

Monday afternoon after school, Johnny entered the shop. The first thing he noticed was the stillness. The cat. It was gone.

“Grampa! Where’s Min Lei?”

Jeje-Kai looked up from his newspaper. “Zumu-Soo threw it away. Was broken. Arm not wave.”

“What!? No…” Johnny Qiang raced through the shop, ignoring the few tourists’ curious stares. His great-gramma was busy with a client in Fangjishian. He slowed to a walk; she didn’t allow running in the shop, and he didn’t want to cause reason for her attention.  Though the door was closed, he knew that she saw regardless.

Out in the alley, in the dumpster, lay the smiling face of Min Lei, buried beneath greasy scraps of paper and moldy Dan Dan noodles. He climbed into the dumpster and used some fresh newspaper to wipe the gunk from his beloved Money Cat. Inside the bathroom he washed her, wrapped her in his hoodie, and tucked her into his backpack.

On his way back into the shop, he noticed his Zumu-Soo was not there. He asked Jeje-Kai, “Where’s Gramma?”

“Down to Miki Choo’s, he sell wholesale. Get new cat. Bad luck no Money Cat.”

An hour later, Zumu-Soo came back laden with shopping bags, one containing a large box wrapped in brown kraft paper and tied with course string. Johnny said, “Can I help you carry those?” He held out his arms. She gave him all the bags except the one with the large box. 

He started to follow her, but Jeje-Kai said, “John.”

Johnny stopped and his great grandpa shook his head. He looked towards the back of the store and watched his great gramma enter the Fangjishian, the room for the master of recipes, the magic room.