We tried to take your things to the lost property office, the officer remarked. But your cat is quite the fighter. Wouldnt let us near them. Best collect your things and your cat yourself. Weve got quite enough on our plates as it is
Every train station has its waiting rooms. Sometimes theyre spacious and airy, sometimes theyre stuffy and cramped. Some boast soft seats, others only offer hard benches. They might all look different, but one thing is certain theres always the inevitable wait.
Nearly everyone who travels by train has found themselves arriving much too early, worried about missing their train, and then left with little to do but wait. Suitcases and bags pile up at ones feet, time seems to crawl, and you begin to curse your own over-cautiousness.
That day was no different. People sat in the waiting room, making a point of not meeting each other’s gaze. Some flicked through newspapers, some lost themselves in a book, but most were glued to their phone screens. A few nibbled listlessly on hastily made sandwiches. It was always to these people he went
The room was on the ground floor, with an entrance straight from the street. Maybe it was the smell of food, sneaking out from bags and boxes, that tempted him in.
He was a large, scruffy grey tomcat, with a collar around his neck. Fastened to it was a tag with a phone number.
People shooed him away. The mothers especially, anxious over their children, would snap:
Off you go! Youre filthy, covered in fleas. I dont want you infecting my child.
The cat would sigh and move away. He never really begged anyone. Hed just sit quietly nearby and watch. Just watch and watch
He was so hungry, but he didnt know how to ask.
Just a few days ago, he had arrived here. His owner had suddenly passed away, and the relatives had decided to sell the flat. One of them came up with a solution brought the cat to the station, left him there and said:
He wont starve at a railway station and walked away.
But how to ask for help? What to do? How to explain to people he was hungry? The cat had never learned.
So he would simply sit beside someone, silently, and look up into their eyes, breathing in the delicious smells that made his head spin.
But people, already irritated by the long wait for their trains, had no patience for dealing with a stray cat. They just wanted to be on their way and leave the waiting room behind, along with the unpleasant memory of it all.
A man had turned up at the station early. He was off on a short business trip an overnight journey, then a day at the office, and then straight back home. He still had about forty minutes before departure. Out of boredom, he found himself watching the others in the room, and thats when he noticed the cat just as one mother snapped at it and waved her hand threateningly.
The cat, used to such treatment, calmly retreated and sat a little further off. Hed grown accustomed to being chased away.
Seeing the collar, the man assumed the cat was lost, maybe had run away and his owners were probably worried. He rummaged in his briefcase for the cutlets his wife had prepared for the journey, popped open the plastic box, and inhaled the aroma with satisfaction.
Smells wonderful, he murmured and looked at the cat. Here, puss, puss. Come here, little one. Ill share with you.
The cat shifted uncertainly from foot to foot, nervous to come any closer.
Go on, dont be afraid, the man coaxed, I won’t hurt you.
Eventually, the cat approached, alert and wary. The man put the cutlet down on a scrap of paper. The cat mewed softly and began to eat slow and tidy, not dropping a crumb.
Clearly, youre used to a home the man noted.
He read the number on the collar and dialled it, only to hear the line had been disconnected.
He cursed under his breath. His train would leave in twenty minutes and this was much more complicated than hed expected.
What am I to do? What now? he muttered helplessly, anxiously scanning the room.
Overwhelmed, he rang his wife. In a rush, he explained it all and asked,
What should I do? Its definitely someones pet the phones off, no one wants to help, and hes wandering the station, practically starving.
Why is it always you? his wife groaned. Youre always caught up in some situation. Why do you care so much about this cat?
Dont you see? he said. Everyone chases him away, yet he doesnt even know how to beg for food.
Right, she sighed. Are you in the waiting room?
Yes! Thats it! he exclaimed suddenly.
Give me the number, then.
When it was time for his train, he led the cat to a quiet corner and left the whole box of cutlets with him.
Wait right here, he said, giving his head a gentle pat. My wife will come to find you.
The cat gazed at him the only person in days who had looked at him, fed him, stroked him, and spoken kindly. He butted the mans hand and mewed quietly.
Good boy. Stay here. Shell come for you, I promise
Next day, the man was incredibly busy. Only that evening did he manage to ring his wife.
Well? he asked. Did you find the cats owner? Did you feed him?
Spent all night looking for him she replied. But using the tag, I found out this: the owner died, and the family just took the cat to the station and abandoned him
He fell silent.
Ill head back there in the morning, she promised.
Im not worried, honestly, he added. I know youll help.
Oh, I can hear how not worried you are, she huffed. With your heart trouble, dont you dare fret! Ill call our daughter and her husband, well look for him together.
He hung up, trying to reason with himself. Really, whats the big deal there are so many stray cats out there. You cant care for every last one Yet the worry gnawed at him. For some reason, the fate of this grey cat had come to matter so very much.
That night, he slept badly. He dreamt of stroking the cats head, explaining something, and the cat watched him and nodded
In the morning, his wife let him know they had scoured the station and asked the cleaners but the cat was nowhere to be seen.
A strange sense of guilt washed over the man. He couldnt explain it, but he couldnt shake it either.
He hurried back home as soon as he could
That evening, he arrived in his home city. Instead of heading straight home, he left his things with a fellow passenger and struck out to search for the cat.
His greatest fear was not finding it, or finding it too late.
For an hour and a half, he combed the station, checked around the bins, peered beneath the bushes.
Towards midnight, his wife turned up to join him, muttering curses about everything under the sun.
By two oclock in the morning, exhausted, they sat together on a bench outside the entrance for a cigarette.
My legs are killing me, she said.
Same here. Whats our plan?
Rest, then search again. Where did you leave your things?
He clapped his forehead:
At the station With some chap. But hes probably gone now!
Lets fetch your things first. If theyre still there, we can chuck them in the car before looking again.
They walked back through the waiting room. A police patrol stopped them by the bags.
Are these yours? the officer asked.
Yes, they both replied at once.
Why did you leave them?
Searching for a cat, they chorused.
A cat? the officer raised an eyebrow and gestured at the bags. You mean this one?
On the suitcase lay the big grey tomcat.
We tried to take your belongings to lost property, the officer said. But your cats quite the scrapper. He defended them like a dog, wouldnt let us near.
He didnt disappear, then. Must have just wandered off for a little bit. Go on, take your things and your cat. Weve got plenty else to do.
The man approached the cat gently. Recognising the person whod recently fed and fussed him, the cat mewed with delight and stretched up to rub against him.
The man sat on the bench, stroked the cats back, and sighed with relief. His wife sat down beside him.
You never do things the simple way, do you? she said, kissing him on the left cheek. Theres always some tale with you Come on, grab your stuff and lets get home.
He took the suitcase and bag, while she scooped up the thin, dirty grey tomcat. He purred raucously, butted her with his head, purred louder still, and even tried to lick her cheek.
She laughed, gently fending off his enthusiasm.
At home, the first thing she did was bathe him in warm water, drying him thoroughly with a fluffy towel. She removed the collar and filled a bowl with fragrant chicken broth.
Later that night, the cat crept silently into the bedroom and curled up close beside her. He gently prodded her with his paws, even scratched a little as if to make sure she was real and wouldnt vanish.
She rested her palm on his back and whispered,
Sleep now, lovely. Youre safe at home.
The cat purred gently and fell asleep.
So did the man. He dreamt again of searching the station with his wife.
And the cat dreamt that perhaps, all this time, he had really been looking for them.
Back at the station, a little ginger she-cat roamed about, anxiously searching peoples faces, mewing mournfully. The passers-by hurried on, averting their eyes.
No one had time to stop. After all, there were plenty of stray cats in the world. You cant save or feed them all, they thought, quickening their steps.
Thats just the way it is.
