Genki Kawamura - If Cats Disappeared from the World

Yes, that’s it. We feel love. That’s the expression Mom has on her face in that photograph. What else could you call it, apart from love? And this love, this thing unique to humans, even though it can sometimes be a burden or even get in your way, is something that buoys us human beings up. It’s sort of like time in that way. It’s one of those things that only exists for humans—like time, color, temperature, loneliness, and now love. All these things that only humans experience. In a way these things rule over or control us, but they also allow us to live fully. And they’re precisely what makes us human.

No sooner had these thoughts occurred to me than my ears suddenly picked up something that sounded like a clock. But when I looked, just as before, no clock sat beside my bed.

Nevertheless, even though I couldn’t see it with my eyes, I definitely got the feeling that there was something spurring me on. I started to get the sense that the endless ticking sound in my head might actually be the sound of the hearts of all the people in the world beating in time with one another.

Images occur to me in quick succession. In my mind’s eye, I see the second hand of a stopwatch moving around the dial.

Then athletes sprinting the one hundred meters.

The second hand goes round and round the dial. Someone presses the button.

But the button is on an alarm clock.

The children who pressed the button crawl back under the bedcovers.

In their dreams they watch the hands of a large clock hanging on the wall go round and round the dial.

Then I see the clock tower lit up by the morning sun.

Young lovers wait for their dates below the clock tower.

I walk quickly past the lovers toward the tram stop, glancing at my watch.

As always, the tram is a bit late.

I arrive in front of a small clock-repair shop.

Countless clocks are laid out in the cramped space.

I hear them ticking. The sound fills the small space. The sound of time being carved up.

I stand still for a while, bending my ear toward the sound.

A sound I’ve heard constantly since the time I was small.

The sound that rules my life, but also gives me freedom.

Gradually the beating of my heart grows calm.

Then before long the sound fades into the distance, little by little, until it disappears.

“Well, Cabbage, I guess it’s time to hit the sack.”

I put the photo albums away and called Cabbage.

Cabbage let out a meow.

“Cabbage, what happened? Now you’re acting like a cat again.”

No sarcastic comments came back in the now-familiar outdated way of speaking.

Cabbage simply meowed. I had a bad feeling about this.

“Why, sir, are you disappointed?”

Suddenly from behind me there came a voice. Surprised, I turned around, and there stood Aloha. This time he wore a black Hawaiian shirt with an eerie-looking print—a picture of the ocean at night. He stood there with a big grin on his face.

“Might this be the end, sir?”

“That’s not funny!”

“All right, all right, I’m sorry! I guess the magic spell didn’t last as long as I expected. So he’s back to being just a normal cat. Are you disappointed… sir?”

“Hey, give it a rest!”

“OK, I get it. But you know, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”

Aloha smiled again as he said this. It was that devilish smile. I knew I had seen it somewhere before. It was the look of someone with evil intentions—something else only humans are capable of.

“So, I’ve decided what I’m going to have you make disappear from the world next.”

Aloha was still grinning that big silly grin.

I got the sense that something terrible was about to happen, and was beginning to find it difficult to breathe.

Imagination. Now, there’s another thing that only human beings have.

Cruel images raced around in my head.

“Please stop!”

Without thinking about it, I cried out. Or no, it wasn’t me but rather the Devil, who looked just like me.

“Makes you want to let out a cry just like that, right?”

Aloha laughed.

“Please… Just stop,” I begged him, falling on my knees.

Then the Devil revealed his plan—

This time, let’s make cats disappear from the world.

His small body shook and he let out a painful meow. He wanted me to save him, but I could do nothing but watch him. Time and again Lettuce tried to stand on his own, but instantly collapsed.

“I guess this is it,” I whispered.

“I guess so…”

There was a note of sad acceptance in Mom’s quiet reply.

Five days had passed since Lettuce had lain down as if he were going to sleep. He couldn’t eat anymore. Even presenting him with his favorite—fresh tuna—got no response out of him. Nor would he drink water. He slept for unusually long periods, and gradually we saw that he couldn’t stand.

Even so, Lettuce tried over and over again to stand up on his own. I had to give him water with an eye dropper because he couldn’t drink on his own. With his strength slightly restored, he would immediately try to stand, but he was still a bit shaky on his feet and would soon lie down again. He always tried his hardest to stand on his own despite the fact that he didn’t have the strength for it. Once he just about managed to pick up his feet and walk unsteadily right up to Mom, and then collapse in front of her.

“Lettuce!” I shouted, and rushed to pick him up. His body was warm, and he had become so thin he weighed practically nothing. His small body, with little strength left now, trembled ever so slightly. Lettuce hovered between life and death. You could tell he was scared—he couldn’t understand what was happening to him. He didn’t know that he was dying. After a while my arm started to ache, so I set him down on Mom’s lap.

Now that he was comfortable, Lettuce began to purr. He let out as much of a meow as he was capable of producing, as if to announce that this was his spot. Mom was happy to have him there and stroked him gently. Gradually he closed his eyes and the trembling stopped. He seemed revived and raised his head for a moment, looking at us both with wide eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath and laid his head down on Mom’s lap again where he became completely still, and didn’t move again.

“Lettuce!”

I called his name, trying to convince myself he was only sleeping. Maybe I thought I could wake the dead if I simply repeated his name enough times, with just the right rhythm or emphasis.

“Be quiet,” Mother said. “Don’t say a word. He’s gone to a place where there’s no more pain.”

Mom continued to stroke him gently as she said these words.

“It’s all right now, it’s all right… no more pain.”

Mom rocked back and forth as she held the cat’s still body, and the tears began to flow.

Finally the reality hit me. Lettuce was dead. He was really dead. I had to accept it. He was dead just like the rhinoceros beetles and crawdads I used to collect when I was little. After a while they’d just stop moving and that was that. In a daze I stroked his body. It was still soft and warm, and completely still.

I looked at the red collar Lettuce had worn for so long. He’d try to pull it off all the time, chewing away at it until it became worn out and ragged. Until a few moments ago it had seemed as if it too were something living, like Lettuce himself. But now suddenly it seemed like nothing more than a cold, lifeless object. Touching his collar gave me such a tangible feeling of death, I burst into tears as if to expel this unwelcome reality.

When I woke up I found that my eyes were filled with tears. It was still dark. Around 3am maybe. I looked beside me where Cabbage normally slept and saw that he was gone. I panicked and jumped out of bed, my eyes scanning the room. Then I saw Cabbage curled up asleep at the foot of the bed. As usual I hadn’t slept well. But I was relieved to find that Cabbage was still there. The memory of the night before when Aloha suggested eliminating cats was still fresh in my mind.