Five years ago, my neighbor buried her veteran husband and found herself alone. It was five years past when Mrs. Evelyn, my neighbor, lost her husband, a war veteran, and was left completely solitary. They had no children. The elderly woman couldnt stop thinking of her beloved William.
They married just before the war. Then William went off to fight, while loyal Evelyn waited patiently for his return. He came back alive but had lost his left hand. He adored his wife and cherished her deeply. He had vowed always to shield her from misfortune, yet he couldnt keep his promise. He passed away, leaving her all alone.
On the anniversary of her husbands death, a large black cat appeared at her door. It arrived in the dead of night, from nowhere, mewing pitifully outside. A snowstorm raged, the wind howled, yet somehow, Mrs. Evelyn heard its cries. Taking pity, she brought the stranger inside and offered it milk.
But the cat refused the food. With proud, independent grace, it explored every room. After inspecting the house, it settled on Mrs. Evelyns pillow, purring before promptly falling asleep.
She couldnt bring herself to turn the cat away and slept beside it. The next morning, she examined it closely. Well-groomed and fed, it was no strayjet-black with huge green eyes and an air of confidence. Then she noticed its missing front left toes, as if torn away.
Just like my dear William! she cried. The cat leaped onto her lap and purred.
You must have a name perhaps Oliver? she murmured, scratching behind its ear. The cat shuddered and fixed her with such an intense stare that she faltered.
ITS EYES WERE HUMAN! NOT LIKE HUMAN EYESACTUALLY HUMAN!
I see. Oliver wont do. How about Arthur? A lovely name! she stammered. The cat yowled in displeasure, jumped down, and began meticulously clawing the sofa.
Fine, fine. No name. Youll just be The Cat. But spare the sofa, please, she implored. Grumbling something unintelligible, The Cat complied and retreated with dignity to the bedroom.
So began their life together: Mrs. Evelyn and The Cat. I often visited her, and she told me astonishing things about him.
First, The Cat healed her. After Williams death, shed suffered a heart attack and often felt chest pain. But whenever she lay down, The Cat curled on her chest, purring until she slept. The pain vanished as if it had never been.
Then something stranger happened. One day, as she napped with The Cat purring beside her, a knock came at the door. She rose to answer, The Cat following. Outside stood Jack, the local drunkard and troublemaker. He jammed his foot in the door, cursing, and demanded money for drink. When she refused, he grew belligerent, insulting her and even mocking her late husbands memory.
Suddenly, The Cat snarled and lunged. Jack shoved him away, but The Cat attacked again, nearly leaping for his throat. Cursing, Jack stumbled back and fled. The Cat gave Mrs. Evelyn a meaningful lookthose HUMAN EYESlifted his tail proudly, and strode off, duty done.
Once, Mrs. Evelyn planned to visit the council for firewood and asked me to accompany her. I agreed, taking time off work, and arrived early the next morning.
She sat on the bed in her nightclothes, bewildered.
Mrs. Evelyn, why arent you ready? We might still catch a ride, I urged.
My dear, I cant go. Im sorry, she whispered.
Why?
Promise not to laugh The Cat forbade it.
What?! I took leave for this, and youre talking about your cat! Come on! I protested.
Listen carefully, she said. Last night, I dreamed The Cat spoke to mejust as you are now. He said, Stay home, Evelyn. Dont go tomorrow. My tongue froze! It wasnt that he spokehe called me Evelyn! Only William ever called me that. AND HIS VOICE WAS WILLIAMS! Then he sang Williams favorite song:
Over the hills and far away,
Where miners seek their golden day
Remember, my sweet Evelyn? I sang it when I left for war.
Somehow, I managed to ask, William, is it you?
In a manner of speaking. I couldnt bear you suffering alone, so I returned
Tell Lucy not to have that operation. She wont survive it.
Then I woke.
I was stunned, speechless for minutes. Finally, I asked, Mrs. Evelyn, are you ill? Should we call a doctor?
Ive never felt better! I spoke to my William! she said, smiling through tears.
I checked her pulse. It was perfectly normal.
From then on, she called The Cat William. Strangely, he responded to the name at once.
Her predictionor The Catscame true. The bus we were to take crashed that day. Black ice made the driver lose control. No one died, but many were injured. Coincidence? Perhaps. A week later, her firewood arrived.
She also begged me to warn Lucy, Williams niece, against her surgery. Lucy ignored the warning and died on the operating table.
ANOTHER COINCIDENCE? I think not.
So they lived: Mrs. Evelyn and her cat, William. He healed her, protected her, and stayed until her end.
She lived to 94, passing last year. Until her final breath, she remained spirited, fretting over William. She made me promise to care for him after she was gone.
She died peacefully in her sleep.
Ill never forget how The Cat mourned her. He was old now, his once-black fur turned white.
For three days, as her body lay at home, William never left the coffin. I SAW TEARS FALL FROM HIS EYES! People shooed him away, yet somehow, he always returned, sitting vigil.
He escorted her to the grave and stayed. I tried taking him home, but he fled.
He remained at the cemetery, atop Mrs. Evelyn and her husbands plot. I fed him there daily.
I worried how hed survive winter and once dragged him home. He escaped the same day, back at the graveside by dusk.
The winter was harsh, yet he endured. He died at springs start. One morning, I found him curled by Mrs. Evelyns cross, as if guarding her rest.
I dont know if William was just a cat or if the spirit of grandfather William truly lived within him.
People speak of reincarnationthat souls may return in any form, even as cats.
I dont know if its real. But I choose to believe grandfather Williams spirit dwelled in that cat. He returned to his beloved Evelyn, keeping his promise to protect her.
And he stayed until the very end.
