The Tenant
Illstration by Aadya Ramswaroop
It sat on the dining table and stared at him in an oddly funny way. Head tilted a little to the right, ears upright, and the whiskers taut; the way someone would look at a cherry stone that he managed to bite on hard while eating a soft and sweet plum cake. It then opened its mouth and gave a deep-throated hiss, its green eyes with long vertical irises radiating irritation. Nevertheless, black, hairy, and rotund, it looked cute.
Harvey turned to his to-be landlady and asked the first question that sprang into his mind "Are there mice here?"
"Ah no, my dear! Isn't this a luxury apartment? They do all plumbing, wiring and ventilation with special attention to prevent pests." She said, waving away his ridiculous idea the same way she would have waved off a fly buzzing near her face. It was grey.
"Then what in the blue skies is this cat doing here?"
"Oh, he has been around since the construction got over. No one knows where he comes from, nor how. He always finds a way inside. He ends up in the living room in a few hours, even if you throw him out and lock the door.
"But look at him; he doesn't harm even a fly. Never catches mice and leave them on your sofa. Never tries to steal food. Just feed him once a day with a little milk, and he won't trouble you. In fact, even if you don't, he manages to fill his tummy from somewhere else. Consider it an offer - a cute black cat, free with a fully furnished apartment." She laughed at her joke, her voice echoing in the room like the bottom of a copper vessel clanging as it hit the floor.
"And you know what," She whispered, bringing her face so close to his face that he coiled back to avoid smelling her breath. "Cats are always more attached to the house they live in than their owners. So the day you move out – I hope it doesn't happen too soon – I am pretty sure you will miss him so much. It would be like leaving a piece of you here."
He wasn't pleased with the cat, but the apartment was in mint condition, and the lady let it out at an excellent deal.
First, he had to get the contract signed. Chasing off cats can wait.
The air freshener was the last piece to get on the wall. It replaced the dusty smell and made him feel at home. He picked up a glass of juice from the refrigerator and dropped down on the recliner, satisfied. While moving in, he had also managed to pick up the cat and release it in the car parking, so his mental checklist had only ticks now. A yawn knocked at the roof of his mouth, and he released it, closing his eyes.
The doorbell sounded as loud as a gunshot. Harvey sluggishly got up and opened the door – the newspaper was on the floor, and so was the packet of milk with a note.
"Welcome to Pioneer Heights; today's milk and newspaper are on us. Please call us at the number below and let us know your preferences for newspaper and milk, and enjoy it at your doorstep every morning. - D&R agencies"
He was pleased as punch; another two items were taken care of without moving a finger. Now all that remained were the phone, internet, and cooking gas connections. Now he wouldn't be surprised if they would soon come knocking at his door too.
The newspaper they had left wasn't the one he was used to, but this would have to do for the day. He sat down at the dining table, spreading the newspaper, when he noticed a fur ball right next to the vase on the table.
Harvey swore. It sat on the table, the same way he had seen it the day before, and on the same spot, head tilted to one side and looking mildly annoyed.
"Meow!"
"No, I am not having you in my house…." He muttered, picking it up and shoving it out. He then closely examined every window in the apartment. All of them were closed and locked, and there was absolutely no way it could have come inside through one of them. The only logical explanation that came to his mind was that it would have slipped past him through the door while he was picking up the newspaper and the milk.
Then it struck him that even though the milk packet was on the floor, the cat had not even tried to get at it, just as the lady had said. It probably had stuffed itself with mice during the night, he suspected.
The following day he checked the dining table even before answering the doorbell of the milkman. The cat was back at the same spot.
Once again, he picked it up and dropped it downstairs. Back in the apartment, he locked the door and started hunting all over the place for any other entrance through which it could have gained access. A while later, his eyes fell on a new suspect– the gap between the blades of the exhaust fan in the kitchen.
That evening he returned after a visit to the market, having got a steel mesh basket of the same size as the exhaust fan. He came home, lifted the cat off the table, dumped him outdoors, and started fastening the basket to the back of the exhaust fan's frame with metal wires. Satisfied, he spent the day watching T.V and slept tight by nine.
It was on the dining table the following day too.
His confused state merged with wrath that had been suppressed for as long as the cat took to find ways to enter the home gave away. He clutched his hand around its frail neck and pushed him inside the back of his car. He floored the accelerator. He was at least twenty kilometres away from home by now. He stopped the car near a dumping yard outside the
city. "It would have enough trash, mice, and other rodents to feel at home here." he thought. Crinkling his face at the stench, he opened the boot of his car and got the basket out.
Curled up inside, it raised its head, looked at him, and let out a half yawn-half snarl.
"Now, don't come back. Stay here and enjoy your life," he muttered, emptying the basket over the wall. He stepped on a stone and gave it a wink. It just stood on top of a pile of garbage, staring back at him like Caesar would have stared at Brutus as he drew his last wheezing breath.
He got inside the car and started reversing when he suddenly heard a hiss and a squishing noise. He stopped the car and got down to look, worried about a puncture. Instead, he found a dark fur ball squished to a pulp under the back tire. It was simply incomprehensible how it could have managed to clamber up that tall wall and attempt what looked like hitching a ride back. It was a sharp cat; he had to give it to him, but finally, its sharpness drew it to meet its own end.
Anyways, good riddance, he thought. A little guilt lingered somewhere, but then, he didn't run it over on purpose, did he?
He returned, humming a tune as he drove to convince himself that the cat's death hadn't affected him.
He reclined on the couch, wondering what he should do for the day, when he heard a key turn on the door. The landlady entered with a young girl, chattering in her crackling voice - "Look here honey… You remind me of my granddaughter. I am giving you this fully furnished apartment at a meager rent. And I can throw in a car for rent as well, if you need … "
"Is the witch out of her mind? How can she rent the house out when we have a contract? And is she talking about my car?" He wondered as he got up from the couch.
The pretty girl turned and looked at him like he was a novelty item.
"Oh, isn't he cute… Is he yours?"
"No, my dear. He just hangs around here. Just feed him once a day and he won't be of any trouble at all."
His angry scream came out only as a deep-throated purr.