A Cosmic Interlude
“Cats talk to cats, and dogs talk to dogs. Heck, birds talk to birds, and squirrels talk to squirrels. Period!” Prissy, the large calico cat shook her head from side to side, and decided to stop berating the smaller and younger orange Persian cat. She slowly rose from the hardwood floor and left for the kitchen with her dignity intact. Toby, the Persian, was clearly out of his mind!
“I’m telling you, I heard Waldo the black alley cat talking to some pug-nosed pooch on the sidewalk.” Toby trusted his own eyes and ears over the wisdom of the senior cat of their home. He planned on investigating this further at another time.
Ronald Silva sat slumped in his oversized TV lounge chair and wondered where his two cats were hiding. It was another night of listening to the buzz of the television noise, as his workday ended with a microwave dinner and a bottle of cheap wine.
“Prissy, Prissy…Toby, Toby. Where are you kids hiding?” He reached into the box of kitty snacks which stood near the base of his chair, and tossed a handful of meaty nibbles onto the living room floor. As he began to doze in the padded chair, he was jolted awake by a breaking news story.
“Good evening, this is Jordan Post at the University of Colorado, Denver, with Professor Michael Stein of the Astronomy Department, who has a theory on the cause of the electro-magnetic interference in the Rocky Mountain area. Dr. Stein, what is happening in our solar system that is causing the massive flux in the electro-magnetic blanket which surrounds us?”
“Yes, I believe that the convergence of the recent solar flares, the constant bombardment of meteorite fragments, and the polarizing of the electrical balance of the atmosphere has led to the flux in the electro-magnetic blanket of which you speak.”
“And Doctor, what do you anticipate the side effects to be? And how long will we experience them for?”
“I anticipate that the electro-magnetic interference will disrupt wireless communications, television and radio broadcasts, and the operation of many electrical devices. And since the interference is so powerful, I fear that even the electrical impulses and proper functioning of human and animal minds may be adversely affected. The solar flares should dissipate within a week or two, though the meteorite showers may last longer. And therefore, I anticipate the disruptive flux to end within that week or two period since the electrical charging of the atmosphere is the key to the problem.”
“Thank you Dr. Stein. And there you have it, for the next week or two, in the Rocky Mountain area residents should prepare for electro-magnetic interferences that could change the way you live. Some of the most serious side effects of the flux remain unforeseen. For Channel Two News, this is Jordan Post.”
Halfway across Denver, in an old dilapidated apartment occupied by Samantha Lars, a nineteen year old runaway from Fort Collins, Colorado, the Channel Two News flash had just played on her portable TV/DVD player. “Sam” as she was known by her friends, had watched absent-mindedly as she stroked the body of her dog Houdini, her best friend and a twelve pound, brown-haired terrier.
“Baby, some kind of storm is coming. We’d better find some extra food to keep.” Sam played with Houdini’s tail and then put her pet in his cushioned bed, as she crawled into the lining of her tattered pink polka-dotted sleeping bag. Houdini was panting happily as they prepared for the night. Sam thanked whoever it was who watched over her, since Houdini was smart enough, and small enough, to find yet another shelter for the two homeless vagabonds.
“Good night buddy, and sweet dreams lover boy!” With that, Sam began to drift off to sleep.
All above the Rocky Mountain area, especially above Denver, the night sky bristled with a sparkling folded mural of blue and green lights. The northern lights of the arctic region were similar to the spectacular splendor of the lights which lit up the Denver skyline. Far below the glow of the lights was a dark and dank alleyway behind the local Cineplex. Chester, the large brown and silver-haired rat who gloried in the delicious refuse of the theaters, and Pogo, the spoiled Beagle dog who stuffed himself on the dirty remains of uneaten hot dogs, quickly moved through the offerings of the garbage of the night.
“Gummi Bears, Cornuts, and Whoppers are mine, dog-face!” Chester hissed at Pogo, and nearly bit the dog’s nose.
“W-w-what? Are you TALKING to me, you bloated mouse?” Pogo stomped his right-front paw on the rat’s tail.
“Back off mutt!” Chester nipped Pogo’s black nose, and the Beagle yelped and ran off into the night.
Hours had passed since Ronald Silva first sunk his overweight body into the yellow TV lounge chair, and by now he was fast asleep and snoring. Prissy the calico and Toby the Persian were busy eating their way through the last nibbles of the boxed treats. The darkened room flashed with the intermittent radiance of the TV’s light, while the chatter of the televised programming filled the air. A TV commercial espoused the nutritional advantages of the Kleen Kitty Feeder, an automatic self-feeder system. Prissy and Toby suddenly looked at the TV and watched in amazement.
“Holy smokes! Toby, is this real or am I dreaming? I can UNDERSTAND what they’re saying on the TV!” Prissy briefly froze with the revelation.
“I told you there was something strange going on….Since when do cats understand the human language?” Toby was finally vindicated, and he was feeling a little proud.
“Wake up the old man, because we’ve got to talk about the lousy food he’s been feeding us!” Prissy was indignant and sounded very offended.
“It’s no use, Prissy, after he drinks from those green and brown bottles, he just sleeps until the morning light.” Toby began to walk away from the TV in the living room.
The Bartletts have lived in Denver for four generations, and their family has always represented “old money” in the Denver area. Scions William and Marcy Bartlett, along with their nineteen year old daughter, Crystal, resided in a large mansion in Cherry Creek, one of the city’s most prestigious neighborhoods. A typical mansion there easily sold for over two million dollars. The family had recently left for their annual three week European vacation. Neighborhood cats had been known to wander through the expansive grounds of the residence.
At daybreak, Houdini gently nuzzled his master with his wet nose, and licked her face.
“Oh! Dear! Houdini! That’s a little too slimy and cold for the early morning. Hey, boy, do you want to go outside and do your thing?” Sam got up and let Houdini out of the rundown apartment. There wasn’t much to eat, except for a few candy bars and a small package of trail mix. Everything had been stolen from a local big-box retail store. She and Houdini would have to conjure up some more food. Houdini ran down the street and followed a path leading to a park in the middle of the city. At the park, he sniffed around several trees and fire hydrants before settling on a particular one. But while there, Houdini began to chase a grey tabby cat until the feline turned the tables on him.
“Easy, easy, dog!” The tabby stopped suddenly in its tracks, and tried to buy some time.
“If you stop chasing me, I’ll help you anyway I can.”
“Do you know of a good place to get some food? For my master and for me?” Houdini’s body relaxed from its chase mode.
“You’re in luck! If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you this unbelievable spread!” The two then ran off toward the Cherry Creek region; and the unlikely pair reached the incredible estate of William and Marcy Bartlett.
“You’re on your own doggy! There’s an entrance on the second floor, above the trash cans.” The tabby scurried away, while Houdini ran to tell Sam.
When Houdini returned to the decrepit apartment, he pawed at the front door and barked until Sam opened it.
“Good boy, oh, you’re my good, good boy! But what took you so long Houdini?” Earlier, Sam had freshened up with a wet towel and a small bottle of hand soap; and now, she would brush down her dog. Security at the grocery store they would be going to needed to see a “clean-cut” handicapped young woman, and her guide dog. Little as Houdini was, people were naturally sympathetic toward the beautiful, young woman. As Sam prepared herself and Houdini for the excursion, her best friend circled around, jumped up and down, and barked.
“Easy boy, easy boy, it’s okay. Relax Houdini, relax. What’s the matter, Baby?” Sam was starting to worry about the trip to the store.
“Yelp! DON’T GO!” Houdini formed words that should have been impossible for him to utter.
“WHAT?!?!? Houdini! Did you just TALK TO ME?” Sam fell backwards onto her behind.
“Sorry, Sam, I did! It started at the park when I spoke to a cat.” Houdini sat upright with his head slightly cocked to the side.
“No! Oh, my Lord, Houdini! What happened? How is this possible?” Sam was in severe stress.
“Sam, a lot of dogs and cats at the park were talking to one another. I don’t know why. The great news is that I found the perfect home to live in, with everything you could ever want.”
Sam reached out to grab Houdini in her arms, and when she did she began to cry. Samantha Lars never imagined that she would be homeless and penniless at the age of nineteen. But now it seemed as though whoever was looking out for her, gave Houdini, her best friend, a voice to communicate with. Sam and her friend moved across town to the Bartlett’s estate, and entered in through an opening in a second-story window. The mansion was magnificently appointed, with a well-stocked pantry and refrigerator, and a cache of petty cash hidden under a pile of old magazines. Further, the daughter who lived in the mansion, was exactly the same size as Sam. The size two young miss clothing was nearly all designer labels, and apparently very expensive. There were also drawers and jewelry boxes full of fine and costume jewelry. Sam bowed her head.
“Thank you, whoever you are!” Sam hugged Houdini and rose to her feet.
At Hazel Pinkerton’s home near a wooded park, a small cadre of mice lived there. They were fed by the constant droppings of bedtime snacks by Hazel. She was overweight by nearly one hundred pounds, and had a strange penchant for tight-fitting lingerie. Hazel also had the habit of sitting on a chair in her boudoir, and staring at herself in a mirror with her lingerie on. The mice had not been a nuisance as they scurried around looking for scraps of food when Hazel was preoccupied. However, when the electro-magnetic interference produced unforeseen side effects, the mice became hostile to their human host. They started to torment Hazel.
“Psst, hey fatty, yeah, you fatso!” The small white and brown mice took turns in teasing Hazel.”
“You should stop eating, and start leaving more food on the floor.” The rodents loved to drive Hazel into emotional fits. Hazel thought the tiny voices were due to either her subconscious, or to a higher power. After a few days, she sought out professional help and was placed on mood stabilizers and sleeping pills. The drugs made her drowsy, but at least the small voices had lessened in severity.
Sam was famished. She had not eaten a regular meal in nearly two weeks, with her last meal coming from a women’s homeless shelter at the edge of town. She and Houdini had been surviving on Vienna sausages, candy bars, and trail mix. Their makeshift meals, however, only came when Sam was able to pilfer those items from stores. After taking a long bath in the master bedroom, she rummaged through the groceries in the pantry and refrigerator.
“The café is now open, boy! Anything you want!” Sam was so happy to be in the mansion.
“Okay, Houdini, scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced hot dogs! Oh, wait they have a jar of pickles here. Make it pickles too!” She took out the ingredients and began to cook. Though not perfect, her meal was tasty. Houdini did not complain!
After their meal, she and her dog sat in front of the enormous flat-screen TV, while Sam began to ruminate about running away from her foster home in Fort Collins.
“Lover boy, no one loved me at the home….” Her heart darkened whenever she remembered how her foster parents treated her.
“R-r-uff, it was always ruff, Sam!” Houdini still did not feel comfortable speaking in the human language.
“I don’t know what I would have done without you, lover boy!” Sam reached over to her dog and hugged him tight.
“The daughter of the owners is really pretty, Houdini.” Sam had looked at the family photos on the walls and tables. Though she would not admit it, Sam was actually more beautiful than the Bartlett’s daughter. Without money or makeup, Sam simply did not feel worthy of any attention or acclaim. Runaway foster children were the forgotten people of society. As the day wore on into the night, she and Houdini made their bed in the large leather couch in the living room.
Ronald Silva sat upright in his yellow TV lounge chair, and was terrified by his feline accusers, as they circled around their owner.
“Mr. Silva, first of all, cats are highly intelligent animals and they can tell the difference between bargain meaty nibbles and Nibbles and Bits. So stop short-changing us on our diet!” Prissy was on a roll!
“Mr. Silva, now that we can understand the people on the TV, we’ll be watching you more closely!” Toby was getting in on the fun.
“You know something, Prissy and Toby, I’ve been very generous with both of you. But if you keep pressing me, and making my life miserable, I might just buy a couple of pet hawks. How’d you like that?” Ronald Silva had reached the limit of his patience.
“Hey! It’s just a peaceful request, alright?” Prissy tried to be as diplomatic as possible.
Morning came on the heels of a beautiful and vivid dream, where Samantha danced in slow motion through a field of lily white flowers and red roses. Houdini leaped and pranced alongside his best friend, and together they moved toward a figure in the distance. He shined with the brilliance of the sun, and his hair flowed with the color of the whitest snow. Then Sam awoke from her dream.
“Houdini! Come boy! I had the most beautiful and wonderful dream!” A broad smile stretched across her face.
“Was I in your dream, Sam?” The small terrier crawled into her lap.
“Of course, lover boy! And so was ‘he,’ a shining knight like none other!” Today would be a great day for her and her best friend. She would wash and then change into one of the most stylish outfits she had ever seen. After, she would go to the nicest shopping mall and play the part of a young, stylish, and wealthy socialite. Today, for a change, she would be Cinderella!
“Come on boy, today even you’ll take a bath." Later, Sam placed Houdini in an intricately woven basket which she found in the garage.
Sam stood five feet, nine inches tall, had beautiful strawberry blonde hair, and powder blue eyes. She braided her hair and tied it in a fashionable knot. Then she experimented with the collection of cosmetics, until she felt she had applied it correctly. She wore a Tory Burch matching pantsuit, with Jimmy Choo pumps, and carried a small Gucci handbag. Samantha Lars looked like a model from the pages of Teen Vogue, and she attracted many admiring stares at the Mile High Plaza and Emporium, Denver’s finest indoor mall.
“Lover boy, let’s grab a seat at the Farmer’s Market & Organic Juice Bar.” Sam chose a table nearest to the busy walkway. After fiddling with her Strawberries ‘n Wild Berries smoothie, she noticed a tall, handsome, well-toned, and well-dressed gentleman watching her from across the mall. He smiled lightly in her direction, and she returned the favor. When he walked over to her table, he introduced himself as, “Joseph.”
“Hi Joseph, I’m Samantha…or, Sam.” She could hardly believe that only days earlier, she had worn a pair of faded and torn Levi's jeans and a re-cycled Old Navy sweatshirt. She almost bit her lip when Joseph said that she was the most stunning young woman in the entire mall.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Joseph.” She wanted to believe him.
“And who’s your friend in the basket, Sam?”
“Oh, that’s Houdini, my terrier and best friend!”
“Hello Houdini, it’s my pleasure to meet you.” Joseph took ahold of Houdini’s right front paw, and shook it up and down.
“R-r-uff!” Houdini was warned not to speak in the human language.
“Oh, my Lord, thank you, Houdini!” Sam’s silent thoughts were at war in her heart, since she believed her dog’s ability to communicate with her came from the one who watched over her.
If Samantha and Joseph had kept track of the time, they would have seen the clock move from morning, to noon, and then to night. At the end of their first full day together, they had made future plans for their first real date. Joseph thought it was a little strange that Sam did not want to give him her phone number or email address. He left her with his name and phone number.
In a matter of weeks, the electro-magnetic interference had stopped, and the ability to communicate across the differing species was permanently lost. The human and animal worlds returned to normal. Eventually, the Bartletts returned from their European vacation, and Samantha and Houdini had to return to the streets.
With nowhere to go, and with nothing to look forward to, Sam and her best friend took shelter in the safest hideaways they could find. She often reminisced about her brief time with Joseph; the beautiful color of his eyes, the texture of his smooth skin, the high bridge of his nose, and the adorable dimples in his cheeks. She remembered how he was the consummate gentleman, and always listened to her with great interest. As for Sam, she had tried to fabricate the best story about her life, none of which was true.
Though her pet dog had been her closest friend, she often wished that Joseph would take the place of Houdini. Then one day, as Sam was hitchhiking out of Denver with her dog, a silver Mercedes suddenly came to a stop. The two vagabonds ran to the car, and Sam knocked on the passenger window.
“Hi, where are you going? We’ll go anywhere.” Sam squinted to see the driver behind the darkly tinted window. The window was drawn down slightly so that the driver could speak. The man was wearing dark sunglasses.
“You know, in life they say, you rarely get a second chance. I thank God when that happens. When I first met you, I knew that there was something about you that didn’t ring true. You don’t know this, but I checked out your story. I know your history, and I’m willing to take the good with the bad. Samantha Lars, I’d like to take a chance on you. Your best friend Houdini is welcome to join us.”
“My Lord, JOSEPH! Is that really you?” She could not hide her excitement.
“Please get in Sam. Both you and your dog. I’m running late for a performance in Phoenix, Arizona.” Sam noticed a trailer hitched to the back of his luxury car.
“Here’s my professional card…you left so suddenly, and I was never able to tell you what I do.”
It read: “THE GREAT HOUDINI---Master of Cards and Illusions.”
Note: This story is dedicated to the Author and Finisher of our faith, the Lord Jesus Christ. He alone is the pathway to God the Father.
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