Crying InThe Rain With A Stranger

It must have been close to a year now that I haven't seen anything of the Catman. I had blogged about him a few times in the past and had wondered about him often. Not so much about him really, more about his cat, who always wore a little red scarf round the neck, and sat on his shoulder each and every time this man passed by the cafe where I sit in the mornings. Then one day, after a fairly long absence, the man walked by again, but the cat on his shoulder was wearing a blue scarf and I was surprised, and worried, suspecting whether the longer than usual absence was due to losing the cat, and perhaps the blue scarf was because it's a new cat. Anyway, I never did find out, as the man was just someone, for years, I saw passing, but still really a stranger to me. Until today. I saw him sitting on the wooden bench by the roadside opposite the beach, alone. I slowed down my pace thinking whether I should go up to him and inquire about why the cat was not on his shoulder as usual. I wondered whether the cat was all right, and I wondered whether the worst had finally happened, that it might have passed away, and I wondered whether he would mind my asking all or any of those questions I felt I must know. Somehow, over the years, I have regarded them almost as my friends, especially the cat. The curiosity, and anxiety, got the better of my hesitation and I walked up to him and asked, without any preamble, how his cat was. He looked up at me, for a couple of seconds that seemed like eternity, as if time had stopped altogether, without saying anything. I was busy thinking should I apologise for having disturbed him and left or ... then he started shaking his head and said: " Coco disappeared; he went out one day and never returned. It's worse than had he died, than not knowing whether he had been killed in traffic, or badly hurt somewhere, suffering." He had reported it to the police, but no one took him seriously, just advised him to get a new cat. That was several months ago, and he was sure he had lost his intimate and loyal friend for ever. I was truly sad and didn't know what to say. I mumbled my condolences and told him how I had often thought of them, that I used to look forward to watching them pass by, that I started missing them when they didn't for a long time ... Suddenly he reached out a hand for mine and I noted a slight squeeze of the hand on mine. I was very touched to see tears welled up in his eyes. He lives alone and Coco was his only friend and companion. I asked his permission to let me sit by him for a couple of minutes. He seemed to appreciate that and we sat together, at first silent, then he was quietly sobbing. It began to drizzle as though the sky had sensed our sadness too. Without my noticing how it started, tears ran down my cheeks too and he began to comfort me instead of me consoling him. He got up to send me on my way as there were more rain drops then. I gave him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled, thanked me, and watched me leave for the cafe. When I reached it and turned to look, he was still there waving to me. We still don't know each other's name, but that was not important. He is not a stranger any more nor is the cat. They are Catman and Coco, my friends. I don't know whether Coco is safe and sound, dead or alive. But even in his absence he had put me and Catman together and revealed their story that had intrigued me for years. I wish now I had been bold enough to ask whether I could look him up sometime ... Tags:coco,catman

Current Mood: Depressed