At first she didn't know what it was, that feeling, that sense like a
vague memory of the smell of spilled liquids. Then it dawned upon her
that she had felt like this before and every time it happened something
proved to be different from what it was supposed to be. When she
realized this she was gripped by those strange reflexes that bid her
to straighten her back and stand as tall as she could. Her nostrils
were flaunting like on a horse, ready to flee, her heart was pounding,
almost to the point of suffocating her. Yes, this was a foreboding,
something out there told her something about her situation inside the
room.
- No sounds, she thought to herself and felt relief at this
seeming proof that there wasn't anything out there, but then she caught
sight of the landlord's cat, lying on her bed and then she knew that
the place wasn't without sounds. On the contrary, it was full of them,
only not for her poor ears. - Bagpuss knows more than me, she thought,
his ears are with the sounds, but his eyes are with me. She grew cold
and shuddered when realizing that the cat was staring at her, at the
same time fully attent upon the sounds she couldn't hear.
She went
over to the bed and patted the grey, old head of the animal, ignoring
the malicious, yellow eyes staring at her, until they all of a sudden
closed, blotting out their lantern quality of curiosity. A dull,
sonorous sound arose from its breast, telling her of cat pleasures in
being fondled, but still his alertness was on. The ears picked up every
sound in the house.
- What's going on? she asked herself, looking
at the drowsy animal laying there motionless except for the eyelids
which fluttered as if it was dreaming very interesting, predatory
dreams. - Oh, you lazy, old cat she said with a sigh and went over to
the window to scan the street outside from behind the curtains. To her
horror she saw the younger brother of the landlord as he stepped out
from the back door to the house and started to walk up the garden path
to the front door.
- Billy, oh no, she exclaimed and hurried to
the door to turn the key and put on the brand new safety chain. Also
she pulled a chair up to the door and set it up against it.
- Damn! she said out loud, suddenly feeling the need of hearing a human voice in the room. - Damn, damn, damn!
She
picked up the phone, but it was dead in her hand. No sound, no feeling
of life in the small, black thingy which she knew was outmoded. - Why
aren't you a cell phone, she almost yelled into it's black deafness,
perfectly aware that the only reason it wasn't more functional was her
own lack of wish to pay the money to have another one which couldn't
get disconnected by anyone but her.
- You always behave like you're
so poor, Billy had sneered at her that awful time when he had first
forced his way into her room, but you're not. Your nephew told me,
you're rich, might live somewhere else and still be rich.
- How
could he say something like that, she thought. How?! She was poor and
the money she inherited she couldn't touch out of respect for the
deceased, he knew that, but he was evil, always forcing himself upon
her, either for "love" or for money. And she, being what she was,
didn't dare do anything, not even flee, no, nothing ...
A muffled
sound from the hall told her that by now he was inside the house. She
put her ear to the door and heard how he tried to open it with the old
keys. She laughed a muted laugh to herself at the thought that he still
believed he had the key to her room. - Oh no, she said under her
breath, not this time, new key, new rules ...
She realized that the
cat had come and that it sat beside her, staring at the door,
yellow-eyed and very alert. - What is it, she whispered down toward the
pointed ears. It looked up at her and then let out a "Meow" that made
her jump because of its suddenness and because she knew that the sound
gave her away to the man outside the door. - No, she whispered, no,
shut up ...
Billy's voice penetrated the door. - Hey, you old hag, open the door NOW.
- Go away, she stutterered, her voice shaking like she was herself. Go away, this is my room, you have no right ...
He laughed and punched the door so the chair in front of it literally jumped.
- Oldie-Goldie, he sneered, little, rich hag, give me your bag or I shall take it myself ...
She felt how the tears filled her eyes, but she forced back the sobbing in her throat. - You can't get in, so stay away ...
Then
once again she felt the cat against her legs and looked down at it. The
ears, the pointed ears listened to something, no doubt about it and
suddenly she knew what it was. It was the muffled sound of screws being
unscrewed, of boards being lifted and removed, of some tools doing a
wonderful job at getting the sinister, young man the access he wanted.
Also she knew that there was nothing she could do about it, but that
she simply couldn't give him the fortune that she to her surprise had
inherited from her elusive and unknown father and had hoarded ever
since, ready to give it back to the dead man who had wanted to secure
the future of this illegitimate daughter, but who only succeeded in
creating a Hell for her.
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-04-09 08:36:53
Last Login: 05.22.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 177
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