Emerald Magic_ Great Tales of Irish Fantasy - Andrew M. Greeley [139]
She ran outside to the cat.When she was curled up in the hollow under the cedars the rest of the world went away. She could not see the house or the hungry cold sky. She could see only the spiky bush with the yellow blossoms, and the rough bark of the cedar trunks, and the green-grape eyes of the cat. Safe in their sanctuary, she and the cat shared their own world. Together they counted their other possessions. A shred of meat and a boiled potato in her pocket. Clothes for her and fur for the cat. A place that was their own, where no one ever shouted. “This is all the world there is,”Nuala whispered to the cat. “Really. This is all the world there is. The rest is just a nightmare. Someday I’ll wake up. And when I do, you’ll be with me.”
Curling itself into a neat ball, the cat began to purr.
Nuala stayed in the safe hollow until the evening shadows gathered. There was a brief spatter of rain, but not enough to cut through the sheltering branches of the cedars.When the rain passed, the setting sun came out and filled the sky with glory.
“God is looking for us,” Nuala told the cat. “He’s hung red lanterns in the sky.”
Scrambling out from under the cedars, she stood up and brushed bits of leaf and twig from her clothes. The cat followed her, looking up into her face. It did not seem interested in the flaming beauty of the sky.
Nuala picked up the cat and turned its head toward the sunset. “Look,” she insisted. The sky was even lovelier than a happy house with geraniums in the window boxes. Nuala needed to share that beauty.
But the cat would not look at the sky. Its eyes were made for seeing things closer to itself, for seeing mice and birds and dogs and Nuala. The cat was made for the small world of the cedar hollow and the circle of Nuala’s arms. It purred and rubbed the top of its head against her chin, assuring her that it had everything a small animal needed.
Gently, she put the cat down. Slowly, one foot at a time, she walked toward the house.Walked through air dyed rose by the light of the setting sun.
When she reached the door,Nuala looked back. She could just see a small part of the cat, sitting almost hidden by the corner of the garage. The light stained its creamy fur pink, so it looked like a magic cat.
“I’ll come back to you tomorrow,” Nuala promised, shaping the words silently with her lips.
Then she went into the house. The rosy light glowed in through the windows, but no one had noticed. There was shouting and there was crying, and Nuala ate a cold meal by herself and curled up in her bed, wishing she was in the hollow under the cedars.
Next day there was no school. That was just as well, because the weather was dreadful. A hard rain rattled the windows and pounded on the roof.
“You must stay inside,” Nuala was told. “Find something to do and leave me alone. I have a headache.”
The little girl wandered from room to room—trying not to look into the corners, where the ghosts lurked—seeking something to occupy her time.
There was a television set, but it was broken. Otherwise, it would have gone the way of the bicycle. There were a few books, but Nuala already had read them. She had carried them out to the cedar hollow during the summer and read aloud to the cat, who had sat and listened though it was no more interested in books than it was in sunsets. But because it loved Nuala, the little animal had listened.
Now the cat was outside during a cold rain, and she was inside, hoping the cat had gone into the dry garage rather than waiting for her under the cedars. The wind began to blow very hard.When Nuala looked out the window she saw something very strange, something she had never seen before. The rain was going sideways instead of falling straight down. Dying leaves skittered frantically across the lawn. Dying branches broke off from the trees and pursued them, clawing the grass with giant