Cat in the Storm

A Story by gabi123

An American couple, the rain, and a cat...

A Cat in The Storm

There were but two Americans stopping by the hotel. They didn’t know anyone there, or really bothered to, as they climbed up the stairs to their room facing the sea. It also faced an old monument, which was shaded by big palms and stood on the lush green grass. In the good weather, there was always some photographer or painter in front of the plants, trying to recreate the complexity, and serenity of the scene. They liked the bright colors, and how the background of the sea played with the image. But, today wasn’t such a day. The rain was glistening off the monument, making it seem like it was bleeding. A small cafe was overlooking the entire scene, across the block. It was also shining in rain.

The American woman looked outside the window, staring at the black cat. The poor thing cringed as the little droplets of rain pattered across it’s skin, sending it running. It was trying to hide under a wet, wooden table, but the rain went straight through it.

“I’m going to get that poor kitty,” she quietly said, “it’s trying to hide under a table, the poor thing.”

“No, let’s not. I don’t want you to be wet,” the husband said, laying down. He was tired, and he didn’t want to be chasing after a kitty at seven in the afternoon.

“No, it’s fine if I do. I just want to get that poor kitty,” the wife sighed. She’s always wanted a kitty.

As her husband was reading, propped up on some pillows, she walked to the lobby. She was greeted by the hotel manager. His desk was far, but as he stood up, it was hard not to see him. He was a tall, calm, elder, who took everything with joy. The American wife liked him very much, the way he took complaints seriously, and the way he always had laughter in his eyes.

“Very bad weather today,” he said, smiling, “you mustn't get wet.”

Still feeling a bit flustered, the American wife stepped outside. There was an old man with an umbrella crossing to the cafe, while gazing at the statue. The kitty would be somewhere to the left, the American wife thought. Suddenly, she was approached by a maid, wearing a white suit.

“Please, a lady like you shouldn’t get wet,” she laughed, handing her an umbrella. The American wife thanked her greatly. It must have been the hotel manager that sent her, of course. But she didn’t focus on that. She just couldn’t find the kitty.

“There was a cat,” she quietly said.

“A cat? A black cat?”

“Yes, yes.”

“A cat in the storm?” the maid laughed.

“Oh how I wanted a kitty! I wanted a kitty so much!”

“Don’t worry senorita, we’ll find it,” the maid said, as the American wife, resigned, walked back to her room.

There was a curious sense inside of her. The maid had made her feel real, important. As she walked back she held her back higher, her legs stiffer, and her arms rested properly on her side.

“I don’t know why, but I wanted that kitty so much!” she told her husband when she got back, no cat in hand, “it’s no fun to be a kitty in a storm.”

“Well, that’s that, I suppose.”

“Do you think I should be more proper? Should I put up my hair?”

“No, you look fine!”

“I don’t know, I don’t like the way I look. I look like a commoner.”

“Commoner? Are you out of your senses?”

“And I want a diamond hair brush, just like the ones my mother had! I want a silver plate, with a real silver table, and those half dome things they put on top!”

“Oh shut up, and get something to read,” the husband growled.

“Anyway, I would like that cat. If I can’t be a lady, I can at least have a cat, right?” the wife talked to herself, as her husband wasn’t listening anymore.

The silence was penetrated by a knock on the door, as the maid from before walked in, with a curled up cat shivering in her hands.

“I’m sorry, but the lady wanted the cat?” the maid smiled.