Every year at the end of October I remember our noble black cat Lucifer, our fallen angel, the legendary daredevil of our backwater community in the Jerusalem Hills. Our precious friend mysteriously vanished one autumn day without a single meow, never to be fed, cuddled or admired again, leaving us with the sad feeling of loss and uncertainty. Of course we always hoped that another day, after wining and dining with distant oriental noblesse during his extensive odyssey, he will, out of the blue of his royal blood, remember our cozy place and make his way back to our doorstep, with us, his most devoted allegiance in waiting for His Highness’ purring return.
I still see him enthroned on the armrest of our scratched, grazed leather couch, his erect silhouette resembling a smooth paper cut, his ark-shaped emperor’s nose sprinkled with orange flower pollen from sniffing the delicious scents in our backyard. In this position the red afternoon sun was reflected on his shiny fur like fiery flames, while his sparkling emerald eyes took account of the surrounding kingdom and his loyal followership. Here he towered in his full glory, handsome Prince Ali Ababwah, King of the Trash, Ruler of the Alleys and thorn in the flesh of all dogs waiting to tear up feline trespassers in their yards with deadly fangs!
Our adventurer’s most glorious moments were when he suddenly emerged in his black velvet cloak and Zorro mask, after a suspenseful rustle in the backyard undergrowth, chivalrously darting up unto the narrow garden fence, where he continued his highfaluting prance all along the ridge of the green partition, casting dismissive glances down at the canines, who dashed at him from all corners of the neighboring yards.
Instantly all hell broke loose at the rascal’s sight. A fanfare of vicious growls and ear-battering barks announced the arrival of the wolfish pack’s arch enemy to the entire neighborhood! There, high up above the frantic rumpus of yapping monsters, Lucifer, master of the fiery pits of Hades, performed his tight rope act in front of their angry snouts and bared teeth, the menacing creatures nearly mauling his velvet boots! The hullaballoo would cause us immediately to jump up and devotedly fill the silver dish of our homecoming hero to the brim with a generous portion of Friskies. His Majesty devoured his ration with ravenous gulps, leaving crumbs scattered all over the kitchen floor that suggested a straight lineage to Henry VIII's eating habits.
He even extended his repertoire of sensational, nerve racking scenes to the lofty rooftops of neighboring houses, not without first paying an occasional visit to kitchen counters for a good look at the deliciously smelling lunch ingredients. All these inviting aliments simply asked to be licked and nibbled on by our unabashed gourmand, as he was feeding at home on ordinary cat food alone and his palates always yearned for a more exquisite cuisine.
The enticing roasts, soups and deserts prepared in kitchens with open windows naturally draw the attention of Lucifer’s trained nose and sharp claws and his frivolous thefts created against him an angry coalition of desperate housewives and alarmed watchdogs. They all wanted to see the culprit either dangling from the highest lamp post on the main road or hoped to swallow him alive in one vicious mouthful to end his menacing excursions. With such an army of human and bestial opponents it was only a question of time until Lutz met his unexplained fate.
On the other hand, since we once presented Lucifer on his Halloween birthday with a red bandanna, we always suspected he would one day fill it with some items of his prey, tie it to a walking stick and leave us and our dull restaurant for exotic adventures. We were even prepared to hear in the news that he had been spotted in a hot Greenwich Village jazz cellar playing the double bass or sighted lying outstretched on a silk pillow in a Chinese opium den, flirting with the feline hostesses of Shanghai. These amazing stories have happened to other cat holders, so why not to us?
On October 31 I returned home late. On the dark path between the gate and our entrance door I met the usual commotion of feral cats dining at the dishes we fill for them twice daily. Most of the homeless creatures darted like black shadows out of my way, whereas a few were less afraid but remained at secure distance. Some of the kittens were born in our yard and often sneaked into open doors or windows to steal some of the 'superior' food reserved for our house cats.
After a short while of taking stock of the family and their activities, I had my coffee in a daze and fell asleep exhausted on the couch. When I suddenly woke up it was past midnight. All had gone to sleep. The windows and doors were locked and the lounge felt hot and stuffy. October had brought heat waves instead of the desired rains.
Our cat Pandora meowed to be let outside for a nightly stroll. I rolled up the shutters in front of the sliding glass door and slid one wing open, exactly enough to let her pass. While Pandora as usual still had to make up her mind whether to leave or not, a tiny furry something darted into the room and headed straight for the feeding dishes in the kitchen. I chased after the trespasser, leaving a tiny slot open for the culprit to escape my chase to the outside. But before I could corner it into the right direction another little shadow darted in straight to the kitchen, following the example of the first intruder. After I got rid of the first one, I went chasing after the second, again moving away from the open door, so the whirlwind could make his escape freely without banging into the glass or other breakable appliances. This turned out to be bad tactic and I soon realized that I was in trouble. Each time I had cunningly shooed away one of the fur balls, another invader had already taken to the kitchen. Here each would rapidly snatch some Friskies and run franticly back to the narrow escape. First they would return to safety straight away, but after a while they thought it to be more tickling excitement to hide in corners and under tables, while I was rushing around trying to catch them. Now the rascals even started to enter in pairs, splitting into different directions, while I was busily mopping the others from underneath the furniture. They would in turn get a chance to snag some Friskies and hide, me in the middle of the upheaval hollering and waving in exasperation. These little devils were playing Trick ’r Treat with me!
Meanwhile my clumsy movements and choked curses had wakened the household's other inhabitants. When the family, one after the other, staggered downstairs wiping their sleepy eyes in surprised disbelief, they seemed immediately quite amused by the wild spectacle that presented itself in the dim living room. Each time I tried to chivy some cats out through the door slit, others would enter helter-skelter by jumping straight over the fugitives' heads!
I must have looked like the legendary sorcerer's apprentice, trying to take control over endlessly multiplying water buckets I had conjured by an ignorant mistake!
But now, with all onlookers present in suspense, we were in for the spectacular climax of this hilarious racket: All of a sudden a mysterious bolt of lightning struck down into the garden, its bluish rays mysteriously shining through the glass door into our dark salon. An Eastern melody accompanied by oriental drums, first muffled from afar but louder and louder as it approached brought with it a colorful parade of dancing creatures resembling the illustrious characters of the musical "Cats". They gathered on the terrace in front of our living room and began boisterously taking places around our garden table! In their middle towered a very familiar looking tall black cat clad in a turquoise toga, sporting a red bandanna over one of his ears. His other ear was pierced by a diamond studded hoop, which gave him a somewhat lopsided, nonchalant aura. He was flanked by agile feline belly dancers, their many tits heaving in sequined brassieres, their hips rhythmically shimmying from side to side in tune with the ecstatic music. The enchanted crowd around the elegant moorish centerpiece mysteriously whipped up a glittering table cloth, on top of which emerged the most appetizing delicatessen displayed on exquisite China. Red wine flew into sparkling crystal glasses and huge pumpkins brimmed lavishly from golden vessels. This magically conjured banquet was opened by none other than Lucifer, his meticulous profile crowned by a ghostly halo. He imperiously swung his glass in an inviting movement that immediately caused all cats inside our house to jump out on the terrace and join the attractive feast. Stunned by this unbelievable supernatural activity we plunged under our coffee table and watched the shadow play through the panoramic glass door. None of us dared to breathe; it all seemed too real for a hallucination. All assembled cats toasted to Lucifer the Prince on his traditional birthday celebration. He waved benevolently at his faithful court in the relaxed manner of true royalty, defying with reassured manner the noisy barks and snarls of the neighbor's dogs, who had of course at once acknowledged his victorious return. Trapped behind fences, their angry comments could not drown out the exuberance of the intoxicating, otherworldly festival we were hosting in our garden this night! After the jolly company had wined, dined and even played a friendly game of pumpkin ball, they all continued strolling animatedly along the lawn back into oblivion from where they had come, dissolving like a magic illusion and leaving us with our mouths open in awe!
As the fancy procession had swept with it all annoying intruders that had previously visited our kitchen and living quarters, the house was again plunged in peaceful silence. Totally disoriented by the incredibly strange vision we tried to totter back to our bedrooms. Only Pandora meowed to be let out on her nightly stroll, as during all the uproar she had not been able to make up her mind whether to leave or stay. This time I did give in to her unnerving whims and drunkenly crept unto my secure mattress, pondering over the strange show we had just witnessed.
How could a turbulent round of Trick 'r Treat with obnoxious kittens on October 31 get out of hand and lure us into a bedazzling encounter with our long lost demon friend Lucifer? In a rare paranormal adventure we were given a reassuring glimpse of his soundness and glamorous current life style, dispelling all precarious scenarios we had imagined happened to him! Certainly October 31 wasn't any ordinary night after all!
First Rain
(water desperately needed!)
