Page 166 - Musings 2020

‘Good evening.’ I said, dropping my home and garden pike.
‘I believe you have my cat,’ said Miss Sen.
Though I had not met the lady before, I knew her by her name and reputation. She was the
oldest resident in the hill station.
‘I do have a cat.’ I said, 'though it's probably more correct to say that the cat has me. If it's
your cat, you are welcome to take it back. Why don't you come in while I go about looking
for her? She might be somewhere around here.'

Miss Sen stepped in. She wore a rather old- fashioned black robe, and her ancient but sturdy
walnut stick had two or three curves in it and a knob instead of a handle. She made herself
comfortable in an armchair while I went in search of the cat. But the cat was on one of her
mysterious absences, and though I called for her in my most persuasive manner, she did not
respond. I knew she was probably quite near. But cats are like that-perverse, obstinate
creatures.

When finally, I returned to the sitting room there was the cat, curled up on Miss Sen's lap.
‘Well, you've got her, I see. A cup of coffee before you leave? Its aroma is heavenly!’
‘No, thank you,' said Miss Sen. I don't drink tea or coffee."
‘Something stronger, perhaps. A little rum?' I asked cheekily. She looked up at me rather
sharply. Disconcerted, I hastened to add, 'Not that I drink much, you know. I keep a little in
the house for emergencies. It helps ward off colds and things. It's particularly good for-er…
well, for colds,’ I finished lamely.

‘I see your kettle's boiling.' she said. 'Can I have some warm water?’
‘Warm water? Certainly.' I was a little puzzled, but I did not want to offend Miss Sen at our
first meeting.
‘Thank you. And a glass if you could help me please.’
She took the glass, and I went to get the kettle. From the pocket of her voluminous dress, she
extracted two small packets, similar to those containing chemists’ powders. Opening both the
packets, she poured first a black powder and then a blood red powder into the glass. Nothing
happened.

‘Now the water, please,' she said.
'It's steaming! You will scald yourself'
‘Never mind.’
I poured boiling water into her glass and there was a terrific fizzing and bubbling as the
frothy stuff rose to the rim. It gave off a horrible stench. The potion was so hot that I thought
it would crack the glass; but before this could happen, Miss Sen put it to her lips and drained
the contents.

‘I think I'll be going now,’ she said, putting the glass down and smacking her lips. The cat,
tail in the air, voiced its agreement. Miss Sen then proceeded to stand up, and in the
meanwhile, she looked sharply at me and said, ‘I’m much obliged to you, young man.’
‘Oh! Please don’t mention it,’ I said humbly. ‘It's a pleasure to be of any service.’
She gave me her old, lean, and bony hand and held mine in an ice-cold grip. I escorted Miss
Sen and the black cat to the gate and returned pensively to my sitting room. Living without
any partner or someone to talk to was beginning to tell on my nerves and imagination,
(hallucinations if you would want the more accurate term). I made a half-hearted attempt to

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