The Cat
By Khaleel Jooste
Copyright Khaleel Jooste 2014
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Ayat Al-Kursi
Allah - there is no deity except Him, the Ever-Living, the Sustainer of [all] existence. Neither drowsiness overtakes Him nor sleep. To Him belongs whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on the earth. Who is it that can intercede with Him except by His permission? He knows what is [presently] before them and what will be after them, and they encompass not a thing of His knowledge except for what He wills. His Kursi extends over the heavens and the earth, and their preservation tires Him not. And He is the Most High, the Most Great. (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:255)
As Allah wills
#HappyBirthday
#No Air
#Home
#Loyal
The Cat
The cat enters the window.
Jumps onto the counter and then lands softly on the kitchen floor. Runs to the bowls standing by the fridge door.
Empty.
It meows loudly and runs into the bedroom.
Jumps onto the bed and meows more.
“Finally home, Tiger?” He yawns, sits up straight and starts stroking the cat.
“Where have you been? Hangin’ out with the girls, hu? Was lookin’ for you everywhere.”
It meows softly.
“What’s that smell?” He sniffs the cat.
“Perfume?” He smiles.
“With the girls indeed. Only time you seem to know me is when you need food. It’s a dog’s life, hu?”
He puts the cat down. It meows and runs back to the kitchen.
He follows it into the kitchen.
“What’s it gonna be, Tiger?” He opens the cupboard with all the tins of cat food.
“Salmon, trout or tuna?” He looks at the cat. It sits at the bowls and stares at him with a vacant expression.
“None of that, hu? You want some turkey instead?” He winks at the cat.
The cat gets up and goes over to him and starts rubbing its body against his leg. It purrs softly.
“Turkey it is then. Milk with that or some of Mamaw’s pumpkin eggnog?” The cat purrs more and meows softly. It runs back to the bowls.
“Eggnog. Sweet choice.”
He fills the bowls, strokes the cat as it starts feasting.
He takes the kettle and fills it with water.
“I’ll have some coffee. Didn’t get much sleep, you know. The bands performin’ today. You would know that if you were home more often.” He stares at the cat. He shakes his head.
“I’d better call Bishop, you know, to find out if he managed to get the extra tickets.” He pours water into the filter and leaves the coffee and heads into the lounge.
Papers lay scattered all over the floor. Left over pizza on the couch. Small fake Christmas tree in the corner, right next to the small black and white TV. He picks up the phone and dials.
The phone rings and someone picks up.
“What’s up, homie.” He clears his throat.
Not much bro. Just chillin’.What up?
“Pretty stoked, you know, excited about tonight, you know.” He clears his throat.
Didn’t Dru tell you?
“Tell me what?”
The show’s off.
“What? You’re pullin’ my leg right, like, you know, we’ve been workin’ our fingers to the bone, you know, just for today.” He throws his head back onto the couch and rubs his eyes.
Sorry, dude. Everyone’s headed to the theatre tonight. It’s gonna be dope.
“The hell with the theatre, Bishop. What, like, you know, this is more important than a stupid ballet.”
It’s not just any ballet brother. It’s her.
“The freak show you mean? I can’t believe you sorry lot are droppin’ the band to watch some blind, white chick prance around in a tutu, you know. What’s up with that, you know. The band comes first. Why did we rehearse so much, you know, only to drop it all?
Relax, homes. There’ll be lots of opportunities to show off your mad skills. You really got that guitar rift hooked tight. Ladies will be lovin’ you for years to come. Watch this space.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can’t believe you, Bishop. I can’t believe any of this, you know,” he clears his throat, “what a bunch of losers the lotta you are.” He sits up straight and throws the pizza box onto the floor.
Chill bro. No use getting upset. Besides, the venue has been cancelled. Gonna be locked up. Everyone’s headed to the theatre.
There’s a short silence.
After…
He interrupts.
“Last year’s fiasco they probably wanna see what she’ll burn up next. Perhaps the entire, you know, theater this time, you know. Geez.”
It’s more than that, homie. It’s for St Jude’s Orphanage too. If tonight is a success, they’ll probably not shut it down as they planned. Those kids will still have homes. You forget.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m a St Jude’s success case so I need to be supportive and thankful. Yeah, yeah.”
Got that straight brother. Without that place you’d be another broke welfare brother. Don’t you ever forget that.
“Sure, Bishop. I can’t believe this, you know. I was lookin’ forward, you know, to showin’ Mya a good time, you know. It’s Christmas, you know. Show and after party show, you know what I mean?”
Take her to the ballet. Chicks dig stuff like that. She’ll think you’re a refined brother. If you watch that mouth of yours, she’ll probably give you a second date. Hasn’t been going so well for you has it? Last chick only made it to the door and dropped your sorry ass.
“She had issues, you know, teeth issues. You know I hate the ones with crooked teeth. I dropped her, you know, not her me, you know what I’m sayin’.” He clears his throat and gets off the couch and heads to the kitchen.
If you say so, bro. Listen, I gotta go. Are you coming tonight or not?
“What other choice do I have? Everywhere else, you know, will probably all be closed too, you know.” He pours coffee into a cup; black, no sugar, he takes a sip.
A’ight bro. Happy Christmas. Later.
“Later, Bishop. Merry Christmas to your mom too. Tell her I’m comin’ for my fried chicken and corn bread. Some pecan pie too. She better not give it all to that fat brother of yours. A’ight.”
Peace.
He hangs up the phone and sits up on the counter and looks at the cat still busy with the bowl of turkey.
“No show tonight, Tiger. Guess we’re headed to the theatre. You best be on your best behaviour. Mya might join us, you know. No rubbin’ up against her, you know. Yeah?”
The cat meows softly and continues to eat.