Clearing of a Brain

CLOSED DOOR

 

'Let me in! Let me in!' A child's small, frightened voice begs me to unlock the front door. From my kitchen window I see no one, make no move towards the door. Day has barely begun. No school buses have yet gone past. Cautiously, I crack the door open enough to be sure I have made no mistake. I have not. No one, nothing, is there.

 

My percolator perks the same tune it does for me daily. Chase and Sandborn bubbles into the glass pot waiting for its dark brown color. This is the favorite part of my morning. Nobody bothers me. Traffic is almost non-existent. Nothing of dire importance is on my calendar for today.

 

'Chessie, come. Come.'  White, soft angora fur rubs against my leg. She and I have been friends since she was born. I think, Wow, eight years ago. Where have they gone? Her bowl of milk with a raw egg beaten into it awaits her anxious tongue. It is lapped up quickly. She rubs my leg again and heads for her clean litter box.

 

My neighbor, Mrs. Bardoff, tells me I look silly, foolish, when a put a leash around Chessie's neck and we walk around the block, sometimes as far as the Bijou movie house. She can see her reflection in the front door and often stops to purr, talk to her double. During those few moments I look at myself too and see a woman who lies to herself and her friends. When Mary or Jane or anybody offers to 'fix-me-up, my spine gets tight. I recite. 'I am happy, content, the way I am. Chessie and I don't argue, don't ask for anything from each other. I don't have to go to bed with anyone unless I choose to. Now leave me alone!' I have said it so many times it is engraved on my brain.

 

Chessie, on her pink leash with a small but perfect satin bow on the collar take a walk. I am still uncomfortable about the childish voice telling me to let her in. My precious cat looks neither here nor there, staying near the curb while I meander in the middle of the sidewalk. When we reach the corner of Applebee St., a man almost bumps into us. I shrink back in surprise as he looks Chessie and me over. He, surely not realizing what he is saying, looks right at me and says loud enough for the world to hear, 'Miss, what a lovely pussy you have.' My god, I can't believe that, raise my arm and slap him in the face. He has no idea why I hit him and starts to hit me back, but he checks himself and stops suddenly. I swear his face must be redder than mine.

 

I am all aflutter. He's really very handsome and apologetic. I ask him, 'Would you like to hold my—CAT? She's a sweety, won't slap you or even scratch you. Her name is Chessie.'He asks me what mine is and I tell him, 'Miss Charlotte Glass. While he's deciding if he likes my name, I hear the child's name again. 'Let me in! Let me in!' I look and see no child .

 

Had god spoken to me this morning? Had he tried to make me understand that Chessie is not enough? I should have more than a cat in my life. I do believe that is possible and ask the gentleman what his name is.

 

'Jess Waterhouse.' 'That's a nice name Jess.' He takes Chessie's leach and I lead him to my house.