Let Out the Cat

by

Pepper L. Bauer

The phone rang out shrilly, cutting through the heavy afternoon air like a knife. Harvey Wallace jerked reflexively, and looked up from the crossword puzzle he was working, but hesitated in answering. He knew who was calling; she called everyday at the same time.

The irritating jingle continued persistently, prodding Harvey to answer. With a grunt of disgust, he put down his puzzle and picked up the telephone. "Hello", he muttered sullenly. A cheery voice responded, "Darling, please don’t forget to let out the cat." "Yes dear", he replied automatically in a noncommittal monotone.

The perky voice belonged to Harvey’s wife, June. She chattered inanely on for a few more minutes while he tried to feign interest. "I wish she’d just hang up", he thought, massaging his forehead. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes.

Manipulating the conversation to a close, Harvey slammed down the mouthpiece. He knew that he shouldn’t have banged the phone so hard, but it made him feel much better. "Damn it all", he thought viscously, "I really hate her." He stood up and kicked the table that held the telephone. "Ouch", he yelled, and hopped heavily, as he tried to get his leg up high enough to rub his big toe. "I wish I could kick her."

June phoned every day at approximately the same time. This tradition started when she got her new job uptown. To Harvey’s immense surprise, she landed a great position. He never dreamed his wife was capable of working outside the home. Of course, it was necessary for her to secure a decent job. Harvey hadn’t worked in almost a year. "Bad back, you know", is how he explained his unemployment to friends.

Harvey was certain June didn’t believe the "bad- back" excuse for his joblessness. He felt sure she thought he was faking the pain, just to keep from working. "Never did believe anything I told her", he snorted peevishly as he gently lowered his bulk back down into his chair.

Harvey closed his eyes and thought about his wife. A frown creased his brow, as scenes from their life played across his mind, like movies at a drive-in theatre. He thought he recognized disbelief of his "delicate condition" excuse in his wife’s eyes as she came home from work and started supper. He read skepticism into June’s attitude as she picked up his clothes, and washed up the dirty dishes he left piled in the sink during the day. His wife’s gestures and voice reeked of mistrust as she brought him his supper and asked him how he felt. She was too solicitous. Harvey feared June didn’t believe his bad-back story for a minute.

Harvey became increasingly certain that June made the phone call every day specifically to disturb his peace. He suspected she timed the interruption precisely; her objective being the disruption of his crossword puzzle and naptime. His wife was just being hateful because she resented having to work.

Harvey shifted in his seat as memories continued to parade through his head. Once, after June started working, she had the gall to ask him if they could hire a cleaning woman. A cleaning woman! Of all the nerve! He put his foot down hard at that suggestion. He would have none of that nonsense. "A woman is supposed to do the house work," he told her in no uncertain terms. "No wife of mine is getting out of her duties just because she has a job."

"Yes," Harvey thought self-righteously, "June’s probably out to get even with me for forcing her to realize her God-mandated spousal responsibilities. Let the cat out, indeed", he snorted. Just the thought of her irritated him.

Harvey grunted as he heaved his mass out of the chair and into an upright position. He shuffled over to the living room window and stared morosely down at the steep, winding front staircase. "Don’t know what we were thinking," he mumbled. "Building a house way up here on this hill. A person in my condition could get himself killed going up and down those blasted steps." He shifted his weight and scratched his Buddha-like belly aimlessly.

Suddenly, like the proverbial light dawning, a crafty look appeared in Harvey’s watery blue eyes. He leaned forward and squinted at the stairs more intently. "Yes," he thoughtfully drawled, "A person in any condition could get herself killed on those steps."

*

Harvey paced nervously as he impatiently waited for his wife to arrive home. He had worked on his plan all afternoon, exploring every conceivable outcome. Now, he was anxious to implement it.

Harvey raised a sweaty arm and glanced at his watch. His moist lips curved into a cruel smile. "About time," he whispered to himself, rubbing his hands together excitedly. "She’ll be sorry she insisted on irritating me," he whispered to the evening air as he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Looking furtively right and left, he quickly descended the hill and hid himself in the foliage alongside the stairway.

On the step directly in front of Harvey, barely visible in the twilight shadow, lay the motionless form of the cat. He chuckled as he squatted awkwardly in the bushes. "Good idea. Nice ironic touch.’ He mentally patted himself on the back.

As Harvey waited, he analyzed the plan once again. It was almost dark. There was little chance anyone could see him hiding behind all the greenery. All he had to do was break a couple strategically placed light bulbs and instant camouflage. When his wife climbed the stairs in the gloom, she would step on her precious cat’s body and in surprise lose her balance. Harvey would be there to make sure she didn’t regain it. With a little push placed just right, he was certain she would fall to her death.

Harvey grinned wickedly. The cat draped limply over the step appealed to his sense of justice. June used her cat as an instrument of irritation; making his life hell. He would use the cat as a method of retaliation, sending her to hell. He felt downright giddy and laughed out loud, a harsh bark that shattered the stillness. Startled, he clapped his hand over his mouth and hunkered down further in the thicket.

Harvey’s thoughts whirled in his head as he waited. It felt good this afternoon when he broke the cat’s back and laid her on the step. He felt empowered. June said, "Don’t forget to let the cat out." Well, he let the cat out all right. "Ha", he chortled again.

Harvey felt sure the police would come to the conclusion that the whole thing was an unfortunate accident. The poor lady stepped on her cat in the dark, fell to her death, and broke the kitty’s back in the process. "How very tragic," they’ll say. Then, Harvey will have his chance to play the mourning husband. He’ll cry, and tell everyone he warned her to be careful on the steps. He’ll blame himself and break down, unavailable to answer any questions.

Harvey’s daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of a car crunching over the driveway gravel. He ducked lower and cupped his hands around his ears, straining to pick up any important sound. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard the car door slam. Sweat stung Harvey’s eyes, and caused his clothes to cling to his mass, like Saran Wrap to a wet peach. "Where was she?" He mumbled as he peered into the night.

Finally, the sound of feet scraping on the concrete steps caused Harvey to unconsciously rub his hands nervously in anticipation. He heard June’s voice squeak out a surprised exclamation as her foot struck the furry body on the step. He lunged!

*

Harvey slowly opened his eyes. The breeze from the open window tickled his face, like the happy morning dance of tiny fairies. The rising sun played hide-n-seek with the flapping curtains. He stretched. Something felt different.

"Oh yes", Harvey suddenly remembered. "I’m a free man today." He smiled contentedly and stretched again. As he rose and dressed at a leisurely pace, his mind replayed the events of the night before.

It had been a long, exhausting ordeal. Harvey called 911 and screamed hysterically for help. "Oscar material, if I do say so myself," he chuckled. Ambulances, rescue squads, and police all descended on his quiet home, creating enough neighborhood excitement to last the nosey neighbors a lifetime.

The police didn’t come right out and tell Harvey their conclusions, but it seemed obvious to him they believed the fall to be a terrible accident. There would be an inquest, of course, but there was no doubt in his mind of the outcome.

A satisfied smile tugged at Harvey’s lips. The inquest wouldn’t be for a day or two, and there couldn’t be a funeral until it was over. He could spend the whole day doing just what he liked. "No "cat calls" today". He smiled at his pun. "I can work my puzzles, take naps and watch TV as long as I want, with no one around to make me feel guilty. I don’t have to think of her out in the work place, earning all the money, trying to make me feel like two cents. Best of all, that obnoxious cat won’t be around the house meowing." He always thought of the cat as an extension of her; it’s sole purpose in life to annoy him.

Harvey sauntered into the kitchen, picked up the teapot, filled it with water, and started boiling it for instant coffee. He leaned his bulk against the stove and thought out loud. "Hmmm, I guess I’ll have to get that cleaning woman after all. I can’t take care of this big house in my condition. I believe the company insured my dear departed wife rather well. Seems there was an accident clause too, doubles the payoff. That ought to pay for a part time maid."

Harvey grinned and put a spoonful of coffee in his cup. He poured the boiling water over the crystals, picked up his cup and a doughnut out of the breadbox, and shuffled over to his favorite chair. He sank into the familiar comfort, still thinking about the financial aspect of June’s demise. "I remember her blathering on about some sort of stock, or profit sharing, or something. I’d better make a note to check on that too. With her money, and my disability check, I ought to live very well. Maybe I’ll sell this house. It’s got a dangerous staircase. Accident waiting to happen". He laughed until his stomach hurt, and he sloshed hot coffee on his hands. "I have to get a hold on myself. I’m supposed to be in mourning." Harvey wiped his hands on the arms of the chair. "Yup", he yawned as he turned on the TV and settled in, ‘This is the life".

The day progressed rather pleasantly. Harvey sat through the entire morning, munching on snacks and watching TV. He made a few obligatory phone calls to friends and relatives, relaying the sad news. He thought he handled the distraught husband bit remarkably well, even enjoying the pretense in a perverse sort of way. He had some preliminary funeral arrangements to make, but the decisions weren’t very hard and he was finished in record time. "No sweat", he thought. "I’ll get the cheapest funeral available. Cremation and dump the ashes in a box. It’ll save more money for me. I’ll tell everyone cremation was at her request. Who’ll question it?"

Harvey looked at the clock. It was time for his nap already. "Time flies when you’re having fun", he quipped as he retrieved a pillow and lay down on the couch. The warm afternoon air settled heavily around him. It was wonderfully, peacefully, blessedly, quiet, he thought contentedly as he dozed off.

Abruptly, the familiar afternoon ring of the telephone shattered the wonderful serenity. Harvey shot erect; his heart painfully attempting to hammer it’s way out of his chest. He ran his hand over his clammy brow. "Calm down old boy", he weakly laughed. "It’s just a relative or something. Fine time of day for someone to call. Scare me half to death."

Harvey’s hand shook as he picked up the portable phone and held it to his ear. A feminine voice greeted him. "Did you let the cat out honey?"

An eardrum-shattering scream ripped from Harvey’s throat. His washed out blue eyes seemed to bulge and the purple veins in his forehead knotted up as if to explode. The phone crashed to the floor, lifeless fingers totally paralyzed by fear. "No", he sobbed hysterically, "Leave me alone, leave me alone. Please!" His eyes swiveled wildly, scanning the room, searching for a means of escape from the specter in the receiver.

With a choking cry, Harvey charged for the front door, wrenched it open and flung himself down the steep staircase; taking the plunge two steps at a time. Too late he saw the cat still on the step, forgotten by some bungling bureaucrat. Too late to check his weight enhanced flight, he hurtled downward, like a runaway freight train.

Trumpeting one last agonizing yell, Harvey struck the cat, tripped, and slid the rest of the way down the staircase headfirst. When he reached the bottom his neck broke, just as cleanly as his wife’s had the night before.

*

Mary Lou Nelson furrowed her brow as she hung up the pay phone receiver. She turned to her friend standing behind her. "Gee Martha, Don sure acted weird when I asked him to let the cat out. I swear I heard a scream, then he wouldn’t answer me." Martha laughed, "Maybe he was concentrating on something and you interrupted him. You know how he is when he’s busy."

Mary Lou shrugged and looked closer at the slip of paper in her hand. She and Don had just moved. Their new number was scribbled in pencil on the crumbled post-a-note she was holding.

All of a sudden, Mary Lou’s eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh, I see now! I dialed a wrong number. Well, whoever answered still didn’t have to be so rude. They could have told me, instead of being so goofy." She shifted her purse to her shoulder and started to put change in the phone to call her husband again. Martha giggled. "Maybe you interrupted them. You know how easily some people get irritated".