The Rest of the Story, More or Less

 

            A couple of days went by. All quiet. I received no further alerts from El Gato. The garden pots were beginning to recover. The sun shone above it all!
            The third night arrived.
            We all went to our virtuous sleep like good children and dropped right off into dreamland. At first, being in dreamland and all, I thought what I seemed to be hearing was part of some odd dream.
            There was a thump on the side of the house right under the bedroom window. A big soft thump! I sat up! No one else seemed to notice. Was I dreaming? Not sure. No cat came to my aid.
            Someone was singing, more or less. The voice was deep, muffled, indistinct. There were words but from the bed I couldn’t make them out. So, I got up and went over to the window. I didn’t move the curtain just then. I listened.
            My cat finally showed up. He moved the curtain over to get a good look. He gave me a glance that seemed to say, “Oh! Would you look at that!”
            I began to discern words. It was a lyric I knew well. Oh dear! He wasn’t carrying the tune, but I heard in kind of a drone, “Believe me if all those endearing young charms….and etc.”
What had happened in those five or, so minutes of my caterwauling was that I had taught him the song! I had to be impressed.
            He had it all down. I stood there and listened to the whole thing. He stood up from where he crouched, slapped the side of the house again and wandered off towards the street in front. As I watched there was a flash of blue light and then all was quiet again. I wondered about police lights, but didn’t hear anything to indicate that.
            Figuring that the show was over, I went to bed and slept, with Mr. Cat sleeping up behind my pillow.
            In the morning, on the back porch, there was a doll or something, made of twisted and knotted twigs. It stood on its own feet. I brought it in and put it on top of my dad’s old piano. I knew who had made that thing, but not why.
            The next morning I was afraid to look out there, but a woman can’t hide from her own back porch can she? So, look I did.
            What greeted my eyes was a dampish looking bundle of ferns enclosing a longish something. There was a lot of water on the porch which looked like footprints. Inside the ferns was a nice fresh salmon. Not too big, but not too small either. I wondered how he did that. I guess these hairy dudes fish. I was beginning to think that he was overpaying for some bok choi leaves.
            I served the salmon that night without a word of explanation. It went smoothly. No word of explanation was asked of me. A fresh fish is a fine thing.
            I began to formulate a plan. Something had to be done. This couldn’t go on.
            Therefore, after the house was asleep and it was way past midnight, I slipped out onto the back porch and took a seat on the bench and waited. I was utterly silent and still, I was trying to become the night and all that stalky stuff. There may have been some sleeping involved.
            I woke suddenly about two hours later. Something was moving over the gravel.
            Once again his size astounded me. The porch groaned a little under his steps. He hadn’t sensed me yet.
            “Hi!” I said, as cheerfully as I could.
            “Whaaa?” he said, casting around to see where I was lurking in the dark. He made a lot of noise just breathing. Those are some big lungs, and a big nose too!
            “Look, what’s your name, anyhow?” I said. “I’m Ann. Do you guys use names?”
            “Naame?” He stared at me. I could see that street light reflected in his big deep brown eyes. This time there were no tears, probably because I wasn’t singing.
            I did the thing where you point to your own chest and say your name, then I pointed to his chest, way up over my head. I went through this routine a couple of times.
            “Oh!” he said. “Swott,” he said. In a way, it seemed perfect.
            “Hey, Swott,” I began, “I’m out here to tell you we’re more than even. You don’t owe me a thing. Get that?” I wasn’t sure he got it. I kept thinking.
            “Hmmf?” said Swott, but he looked more relaxed now.
            “No more presents! We’re fine. No problemo, dude!” I insisted. I hoped some of this was sinking in.
            “No more,” he repeated after me. He was good at picking stuff up. I was really impressed again.
            “You can come have some leaves when you’re in town. It’s OK. You just kinda surprised me and my cat the other night, you know?” I said, waving my hands at the pots and their contents. “I’m sorry I scared you away by singing at you,” I added.
            Swott was actually smiling, and I was starting to feel pretty good about our interaction again.
            “So, have we got a deal? No more presents! You can eat leaves if you want, it’s OK, OK? You got that?” I asked him earnestly, sitting there in the predawn on my bench. There were a few moments of silence. I was sleepy, I yawned. It all felt dreamlike.
            “I gotcha, Annie,” he said, and the big stinker winked at me!
            “Oh!” I said, suddenly wide awake.
            “Swott!” he giggled, then he sort of shimmered down the porch steps and out to the alley, heading for the intersection up there. Then he turned to the east and the sunrise which was just barely beginning.
            I wondered what his name really was!

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