I have never felt so safe.
It was when I was at my most defenseless. A lonely traveler with nothing but his garb, his pen, his wits and but a fairy music box when the darkness chose to attack. God it was so massive. I had to light a cigarette just to choose and fathom is encompassing hands as it grasped me. It took from me passion, and each lustful drag was stolen by a gust of grotesque fingers, masquerading as fair wind. I wanted to die. I would feel no better place than dying in that foul swamp, laying down with my fears beside me.
It was in that fugue when he decided to approach.
A cat, no bigger than the darkness that it had brought with it. Yet its body seemed to tame the wild night. It stood, simultaneously the size of a panther and yet no bigger than a child fresh from the womb. The only thing I could see was the alluring, pensive stare of its yellow eyes. It spoke to me with no language. The language only those who choose to walk the way of the pen can understand.
It told me to stand and I obeyed.
Life seeped from its dark pores, and I was overjoyed as sensations both new and old took hold of my decrepit form. I wondered, how a regular tom could hold such power. It hid during the day, and those around it thought it a stupid thing. With no more intellect than brown, muddy bog flowers. Yet I could see its power, here when I needed it most. It led me, with a tail that matched me up to the hip. It fought back the dark with childish whips, as if playing with the infinite beast. Tentacles were nothing compared to the gyre of kitten fists and pure desperation. Such raw energy it could not fathom.
And then, with one powerful stroke that Leonardo himself would bow to, he opened a portal, the only portal to light. Godforsaken light. Like forbidden wine it spilled onto the sheets of empty dark, an endless flask I was more than willing to drink. There was the brutish Cheshire, its meows guiding me like stepping stones. I followed with timid steps. Like I was walking for the first time. But one thing that sticks with me, one impregnable truth that makes me realize how true this fantastic tale is:
The bastard cat, with some magic it held in its breast, had taken the burden within himself. Without my asking, he knew I needed it taken away. And knowing its danger, he added it to his back anyway, a merchant knowing of the bad sale he had just received. I finished my cigarette with a new stride in my step. The murky bog somewhat behind me, as easy as closing the silly pages of a children’s book. Another day, I thought. I can finish that tome another day.
The door to salvation hung open, yet the mystic feline only stood in adamant protest. With my fear, with darkness still biting at its mangled fur. I saw it as it should be, a noble champion. I would sing its praise alone. I would fight for it in this world it knew nothing about. Its realm was here, in a never-ending clash with its brother enemy. I wept and closed the door.
Thank you, kitty, for restoring my passion.
Thank you, brother panther, for your much needed protection during my darkest.
Thank you, father cat, for bearing my burden, even if for only a bitter moment.
Safe. For once in this life. Safe.
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