Oh, it was a frightful night, this night of Halloween Eve. The storm outside raged against the window, rattling the glass, and enormously blew the leaves on the trees, as if they were thin blades of grass. I had to settle myself, so, I decided to read a book that I had laid on the side table. I lit the candle and looked warily about. It was one of those nights; a night so dark, that it seemed to swallow up any bit of light.
Opening the book to the first chapter, I forced myself to stare at the pages, instead of around the darkly lit room. Ah yes, Chapter 1, “Emma and the New Swing”. Yes, this would do nicely, to forget such a night. Settling down into the comfy chair, I let out a sigh and started reading. I had only gotten into the first page about four sentences, when I heard a “THUMP”! Startled, I jerked around in my chair and saw that a mirror had fallen from the wall, onto the table below, but was not broken. The sound was muffled by the lace cloth Mother had placed on the table, earlier in the day. I got up, walked across the room, and replaced the mirror on the wall. There, everything was fine, I thought, as I let out another deep sigh, settling back into my chair and continuing with my reading.
Just as I began to relax, and was becoming more comfortable with the gloominess of the night, I heard a strange sound. It was not the wind wuthering outside. It sounded like a sort of crying. It wasn’t a baby cry, nor was it my little brother, who was upstairs sound asleep. I could not place where the crying was coming from, because it seemed to come from different places. As quickly as it started, it had stopped. I waited for a bit, and then heard no more, so I decided, whatever it was, it must have worked itself out. I really would like to get back to my book! Chapter 3, “The New Flower Garden”; Oh, this was delightful!
I had gotten no further than Emma planting her new daffy-down-dilly bulbs, when a sound, so wretched, made me jump from my chair in fright! This was “quite enough”! I had to settle my nerves, so I slowly got up from the chair and moved around a bit to investigate where the sounds may be coming from.
Each step I took, I became a little braver. I walked around the house, room to room, looking here and there, when suddenly I could hear it, the crying. It seemed to be coming from the Kitchen. I slowly walked toward the sound, as it seemed to draw me to the corner of the room, near the wood cooking stove. This was not a child’s cry. Not like it, at all, but a high pitched squealing sound, and more than one!
I felt the warmth of the stove, as I knelt down, ever so quietly, trying to get as close as I could to the sound, but afraid of what might be waiting for me! At first, I saw nothing, nothing but a bit of dirt from the stove, and the darkness of the corner. I breathed in the smell of wood and slowly, slowly crept. I looked hard into the corner, and just as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, glowing back at me were 8 very orange and green eyes; and just at that time I heard a “REEEERRR”! I jumped back in fright and nearly knocked myself silly on the edge of the stove. Recovering, I slowly moved back towards the corner. It was then I heard the “mewing” and “purring” and saw the soft, round fuzz balls of kittens laying on a pile of dish towels that Mother kept there for the stove messes.
Nestled in the back of all this fuzziness was Molly, my dear little Molly. My own sweet cat of nearly 5 years. Nestled in her softness were three of the dearest, sweetest, tiniest kittens, all of different colors. One a soft gray with little white booties, one all white with black around its eyes, that looked like a sort of mask. The last one was, oh so small, with the colors of the most beautiful fall day; orange and brown, black and white. A frightful night had turned into a delightful night, indeed!
So as the wind began to calm, and the moon came out and shown so brightly through the window, I held each kitten, stroking ever so lightly and ever so slowly. I was mesmerized by the purring, sitting in the dark, warm corner. My mind wandered to what to name these little dears. Because it was such a dark, spooky night, I decided to call the soft gray, “Nebula”, which means dark mist. The gray of his coat seemed to remind me of such. I spoke his name as I stroked the soft fur.
I gently laid Nebula back near his mother, Molly, and picked up the little masked kittie. “I shall call you “Delano”, meaning “Of The Night”, and your sweet sister (the calico kittie) we will call “Kaleo” which means “Shattered Mirror”.” Nearly appropriate, don’t you think?
So, should you hear a "the bump in the night" as you are sitting and reading on such an evening; just know that not “all” sounds of the night come from wretched and frightful creatures! One such creature might just make the sweetest sound of all, a tiny little "MEOW"…..
Happy Halloween To All Of You!
Kitty
