A Cat in Time

By Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

It was a dark and stormy night (no, really). A creature struggles against the storm to find some safe haven; for the time is drawing near when she will bring new life into this world. She has eaten nothing in such a long time, and has had little to quench her unending thirst. And then, to her great surprise and immense relief, she sees a light, and a door and maybe, just maybe, the safety she seeks.

Come along with me on a journey I call "A Cat in Time." In it, we follow the adventures of Myobu, the very first cat in Japan whose name has come down through the ages to us.

But, be warned: some say the story you are about to read cannot be true, that no such events happened; but I assure you they are true, they are real and that Myobu really lived. After all, her name is still known, to this day, in the land of the setting sun, the great land of Japan, where the name Myobu is spoken with a hushed reverence befitting one of such greatness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Geoffrey McPherson
• Release date: Sep 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463334829

Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

In more than three decades as a professional writer/journalist, Christopher has covered myriad subjects and interviewed thousands of people from the famous to the unknown. He brings these years of experience to each of his novels.In his career, his work has appeared in daily newspapers, monthly magazines, extensively on radio and the occasional dalliance with television. He has written advertising copy and radio commercials – and continues to write.Prior to this new novel, "Sincerely, Dina Lamont," Christopher wrote novels about the most famous cat in ancient Japan who had special powers in “A Cat in Time,” and “22: The Biography of a Gun,” a tale set in the near future where guns are strictly controlled yet where one manages to make its way into the hands of those who want it. Previously, Christopher spent more than five years creating a series of novels that take place in 1930s Los Angeles called “The James Murray Mysteries.” Books in the series are "Murder at Eastern Columbia," “Sabotage at RKO Studio,” “Abduction at Griffith Observatory,” “Blackmail at Wrigley Field,” and “Haunting at Ocean House.”Other writing featuring his byline includes "The Babi Makers" – a science fiction tale about a world where the most important resource is babies; "Sarah & Gerald" – a novel about Paris in the 1920s; "Forever - and other stories" – a collection of short stories; "The Life Line" – the novel of the big one that levels San Francisco; "News on the Home Front" – a novel of two friends during World War Two; and "Mama Cat" – a book for children. Also, several short plays, a few radio plays and a boatload of radio documentaries.

Book preview

A Cat in Time

a fantasy by

Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

A Cat in Time

Copyright 2018 by Christopher Geoffrey McPherson

All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover design by Matt Hinrichs

MattHinrichs.com

Editing by Arlene Miller

bigwords101.com

Special thanks to Jessica Gilbert for

her guidance in the elements of Japanese culture.

Author's note: This is a work of fiction in its entirety. Any resemblance to any person or feline alive or dead is pure coincidence.

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other books by the author

22: The Biography of a Gun

Haunting at Ocean House

Blackmail at Wrigley Field

Abduction at Griffith Observatory

Sabotage at RKO Studio

Murder at Eastern Columbia

The Babi Makers

Sarah & Gerald

Forever and Other Stories

The Life Line

News on the Home Front

Mama Cat

A Cat in Time is lovingly dedicated to

Don and Joyce Williams

Chapter One

Sit back, my friend, and relax. I have a story to tell you that you might find hard to believe. But believe it you should, for it is entirely true. It all begins many years ago . . .

I am young and suddenly find myself without a home. I am on the streets, alone, frightened. It is dark, and it is raining. These rains have continued for more than two days, and I haven’t had any food in that time. I find a little pool of rainwater here and there from which I can get a small, hardly satisfying, drink of water. My situation is not good in any case, but it is especially not good given my present condition. I am to deliver at any moment, and it will be a disaster if I’m not able to find someplace warm, someplace dry, and someplace that has a little something to eat. But even then, it will be hard. In my present state I have not the strength to find food, or get food, or —even if I were to be that lucky—to eat food.

Time is running out and I am scared.

I think back a few days. I am so glad that the ship finally made a port. It was so rocky and uneven on that ship that I was constantly feeling sick. Now that I am thankfully back on land, I wonder if the ship perhaps wasn’t so bad after all. At least there, I had food.

I try to stay under the eaves as I walk slowly alongside the buildings, but with the wind blowing, it is nearly impossible to stay dry. I am soaked to the skin, dripping wet. And cold. I round one corner and then another. Still no place dry, no place warm. I turn another corner and find myself on Nijo Oji—one of the streets that leads to the palace. I’m not sure how I ended up here—but the storm, the dark, the rain, the wind, the lack of anything to eat. It doesn’t matter. I continue to walk until I find a shoji panel with a tear in it big enough to allow me to slip through. I walk to a dark corner and collapse, the exhaustion too great to overcome.

I fall asleep.

Look, mommy, a voice says, waking me. I open my eyes and see a small boy standing there, looking at me. He reaches out his hand to me. She is soaking wet!

Yes, a female voice replies in the distance.

She looks like she will give birth, the boy says as the woman approaches me.

Let me see, young one, the woman says, her voice soft, smooth. You are right; it will be any moment now. Go get Itsuko, right away.

The little boy turns and runs toward the nearby room where his mother’s hand-servant has retired for the night.

Itsuko! Itsuko! the boy cries as he approaches the closed door.

What is it, little one? the sleepy voice of a female asks as she crawls up off her sleeping mat. Wearily, she opens the shoji panel.

Come quick! the little boy says, tugging at the woman’s robe. She’s about to give birth!

Give birth! the woman says surprised. Your mother?

No. We have a visitor. Just come. Come quickly. We need you!

The boy continues pulling at the robe. The older woman steps into her geta sandals and follows the boy around the corner. That is where she sees me, curled up in a dark corner, unable to move, to think, to do anything but wait for nature to take its course.

The woman gasps.

It’s happening! There is no more time!

I open my eyes and am met with the expectant stares of three people. Suddenly, I feel safe. I feel that all will be right, that I have—perhaps—lucked into the best place of all.

I wake with the sunlight and feel a little one near me, suckling. I am relieved. Despite all the hardship, everything seems to have worked out all right. I open one eye and see another little one suckling. I turn my gaze and there are three more, all happily suckling, their little eyes closed to the world, nothing else of importance to them at this moment other than eating.

Here you go, little mother, I hear a voice say.

I turn my head. It is the little boy. He has a bowl of fresh cream. He sets it down next to my head. He understands I am too occupied to eat at this moment, so he leaves it and leaves me be. I feel comfortable, and I look around to see that I have been placed upon a very soft pillow at some moment during the ordeal. I remember nothing, but the pillow is so soft that I allow myself to sink into it. I am safe. My babies are safe. All is right with the world.

Is she all right? the boy asks softly.

Why? the mother asks. What do you mean? She is tired, but—

No, the boy interrupts. Her tail. It’s missing.

The mother laughs quietly.

No, her tail is all there, she says as she brushes a wisp of hair from the boy’s forehead. This type of cat has a little tail. She was born that way. It’s perfectly okay.

Oh.

"She is called miike, or ‘three hair,’ because most of the cats like this with short tails that I have seen had multi-color coats. But this one, she is indeed unusual as she is all white, with brilliant blue eyes!"

I see, the boy adds. Can we keep her? he asks softly.

I think it will be all right, the mother replies. But you will have to help take care of her. You know, it is a big responsibility.

I know, Mother. I will be responsible. You know I have always wanted a cat. It appears the gods have finally answered my prayers.

That long first day turns into a second and then a third. The little boy is almost too attentively attending me and my precious little ones. He is always coming to me with a small bowl of cream at first, and then small pieces of fish, and then a little bit of chicken that is the most tasty of all. It has been such a long time since my stomach felt full of nourishment, but now it is bordering on too full. But that is all right. It is necessary to make enough milk to feed the little ones, especially the little girl who is the smallest of the five. I worry about her and her health, but I cannot spend too much time worrying about one when there are four others who need my attention.

Over time, the boy becomes a great friend to all of us. He takes his mother’s admonition to heart and assumes full responsibility for our well-being. It is a few days later, and I now feel comfortable to leave my babies and venture outside into the sunshine for a moment to allow the warmth to comfort me, to allow me a moment to eliminate the waste that has been backing up inside me. It is true when they say there is nothing like a good pee. I feel more alive after that than I have felt in many days. I rest on the wooden walkway in the sunlight just outside the door for a few minutes. I want to be free of my responsibility for a little while, but still to remain close enough should anything happen that needs my attention.

The boy’s mother comes to join me after a few minutes. She sits next to my reclining body and gently scratches the side of my face. Oh, that feels so very good. I reward her with a purr that makes the both of us smile.

What shall we name you, little one? the boy’s mother asks me as she pets me. "I have been thinking of many names, but the one I seem to think best suits you is Myobu no Otodo, which means chief lady-in-waiting of the inner palace. It is the name I was given when I was graduated to the fifth rank of noblewomen, and I think you are just as noble as I. Do you like it?"

I look up at the woman. Of course I am noble, I think to myself. How could she possibly think otherwise?

I purr a little louder so she will understand my approval.

Myobu it is, then, she says as she rises to walk back into the palace.

After a while, it is time for me to return to the beautiful nest that has been assembled for me and my babies. I lie down, my body surrounding the four strong babies. I notice the little girl has not moved since I walked outside. I nudge her tiny body with my nose and realize that the force of life has left her. She is cold and unmoving. It is sad, but it is nature’s way. Some are stronger and they survive; some are weaker and they do not. It takes a while for the young boy to realize the little kitten is not moving. He asks his mother for her assistance. The mother understands. She encourages the boy to take the little body, wrap it in a piece of silk from an old kimono, and take her outside where he buries her under a utsugi bush with white blossoms. When the plant blooms again, it will bloom with the soul of my little baby. My sadness is comforted by the knowledge that throughout her short life she has been treated so well by the caretakers.

Life for the other four babies continues apace. They grow stronger every day from the nourishing milk I am able to provide them, and, soon enough, they begin to open their eyes and to take their first shaky, tentative steps outside the nest. They don’t go far, just a little way out of the room and down the hall. I am able to keep an eye on them from my vantage point; but when, on occasion, one strays too far, the boy always seems to be there to nudge them back in the proper direction. Yes, it was very fortunate that I found this place in the dark of night in the driving rain. The gods clearly took me in hand and led me here.

After a few more days, I feel confident enough to leave the babies behind and begin to explore this grand place where I wound up. I walk slowly, cautiously, out of the little nest room and down the hallways that are covered with mats. I walk by many doors, some that are opened and a few that are closed. I know not what goes on inside the many small rooms. I often hear sounds like someone being hurt followed by laughter. Hard for me to understand what the humans are doing, but it is not a matter for me. All I know is that they have taken good care of me, and for that I am grateful.

One day I am walking along the side of a hall when the ground begins to tremble. I have felt such trembling before. I don’t know what it is, but I do know that it eventually ceases. This time, I know full well the cause.

Come back here, you wench! a noble woman is shouting as she runs after one of her attendants. How dare you touch my eye color! It is made from precious butterfly wings and is not meant for one such as you!

The noble woman, old but agile, stalks after her young attendant. She is brandishing a whip that she cannot seem to snap. It appears she has only enough energy to do one or the other: run or snap, but not both.

I am sorry, the frightened attendant repeats as she is being chased down the hall.

Not yet, you aren't, but soon you will be!

They both fly by at a pace that startles me. I nudge my body as close to a shoji door as possible to take me out of the path.

I stay to the side of the hall a little while, waiting to make sure the storm has gone by. I lick my forepaws to make sure they look their best. When the coast appears clear, I resume my wandering.

The path is not so clear as I imagine; for when I turn the corner I am greeted by the snarl of a giant dog, who barks loudly and begins to chase me much as the noble woman chased her attendant.

I run as fast as I can, briefly thankful that the little boy had been giving me nourishment to make me strong again. I dart this way and that, knocking over an incense burner (luckily, not lit) as I go. I tear through a partially ripped shoji screen with the giant animal following. As strong and fast as I am, it is no solution for the corner of the room I soon find myself trapped in. The dog lunges and snaps at me. I dart to the side, but not fast enough. He grabs a bit of my hind leg in his mouth and I feel pain. I howl!

Just then the boy and his mother come around the corner. They must have heard the incense burner hit the ground.

Okinamaro! I hear the boy shout. Presumably it is the name of my tormentor.

The boy’s mother flings open the damaged shoji screen and screams at the blood on the tatami mat.

She steps toward the dog, pulls her fan from her obi, and begins to hit the dog.

Bad! No! she screams as she hits the dog over and over until he releases my leg.

The dog tries to bolt from the room, but the boy’s mother continues hitting him. She follows him out of the room, commanding one of the guards to follow the dog and punish him. The mother turns back toward me and her son who is crying because of the wound to my leg.

I let my body go limp, more for sympathy than any real necessity. To be honest, it was merely a flesh wound, but everyone seems so fraught about me that I decide to give them a show.

I mew softly, as if it is the last meow in my body.

Myobu! the mother cries.

She helps the crying boy out of the room and takes me back to the nest, where she tends to me. After a while, I hear the voice of the guard telling the woman that the dog was caught and beaten badly. The dog ran off into the woods where it will surely die.

For a moment I actually feel sorrow for the fate of the dog. Surely he was just following his own instincts just as I follow mine. It is a story as old as the mountains, where dogs and cats—despite many efforts—just cannot find common ground. Slowly, my eyes close and I sleep.

When I awaken I am back in the warm comfort of my nest. The young boy lies with me, his hand resting on my hip. I see wetness on his face as if he has been crying. I hope his sadness is not a result of my injury, as surely it cleaned up well and I am nearly back to my old self.

I stand with care, trying not to let the boy’s hand smack on the ground as I rise. I arch my back in a stretch and turn to count my babies. There are four and they are all still asleep.

I walk from the nest, leaving the boy and the babies sleeping in peace. I walk out the door and onto the landing. I reach my paws in front of me and stretch once again. I stop, raise my nose to smell the air. After a moment I walk onto the soft grass where I relieve myself with a satisfying pee. Ahh. Really, there is nothing as wonderful as a good pee after a night’s peaceful sleep. My leg throbs a little in pain, but I stop and give it a few licks. That helps it throb