Chapter (6) MARTHA'S CAT

MARTHA’S CAT

 

          Henry closed his eyes and breathed in the fragrances rising from the rows of Night Scented Stocks along the flower border. The cooler evening air was a relief from the heat of the summer days. As always in the evenings, Henry was outside admiring the large aviary holding his prized collection of Canaries. It had been his lifetimes work but now Henry had at last achieved an impossible dream. Something no one thought possible and Henry knew this was going to make him famous. It had cost him dear but he was confident it had all been worth it. As he stood admiring the beautiful birds flitting around him he spoke aloud, possibly expecting the birds to take notice of his words.

“She’ll understand. When she realizes she’s married to a famous man.” 

Henry’s childhood had been a mostly lonely and sad time. His father had left the family home when he was a small boy and his mother worked long hours. Henry spent much of his time alone in house. When Henry was five years old his mother came home one evening and announced they were moving to the north of England to a place called Leeds. Leeds was where his grandparents lived and his mother accepted a job there to be nearer to them, possibly thinking she’d have baby sitters she didn’t have to pay. There was no discussion, and Henry didn’t say anything. He had no little friends to miss, and starting school would be the same wherever they lived. 

They moved into a nice two-bedroom house on a fairly new council estate and for the first time Henry had a small garden he could play in. School was not what Henry had expected. His teacher, Miss Anderson, was a rotund woman in her mid forties and had a jovial nature. For the first time in his his short life Henry could see how other children played and laughed, and it didn’t take him long to join in their playtime antics. Henry wasn’t good at sports, his short legs never seemed to do what he wanted and he’d never learned to throw a ball, but still he would continue to try. In the classroom Henry was a different child, he learned quickly and within a year he was reading avidly. Henry had a thirst for knowledge but he especially enjoyed learning about the natural world. This did not go unnoticed by Miss Anderson who made sure Henry did not become bored in the classroom. Later, Henry would look back on his early school years, and to Miss Anderson, and he would say a silent thank you to her.

Living close to his grandparents was something Henry enjoyed and when he wasn’t at school he would spend much of his time with his grandparents. Henry had developed a special bond with his grandfather, the first male roll model in his life. He would visit their house after school and listen to his grandfather telling him stories about the ‘the good old days’. Henry’s grandfather was a broad, tough Yorkshire man, and patriarch of his household. Henry always remembered his  grandmother as a hard working woman with a round face and rosy cheeks. She baked cakes, wore a flowered apron and always seemed to drying her hands with a chequered tea towel. Henry loved her and especially liked to sit on her lap reading with her. Henry’s grandfather, like many of his generation, had a large wooden shed inside of which he kept a several birdcages, containing a variety of yellow and orange Canaries. Henry could sit for hours watching the little birds and listening to their songs. Up until today, Henry had remembered those few years with his grandfather as the happiest of his life.  As Henry grew, so did his interest in the little birds. Now, some fifty years later, some would say he was obsessed. Henry’s life revolved around his birds and the huge timber and wire aviary that dominated almost a third of the back garden. It was true to say that Henry’s life revolved around his Canaries.

Martha met Henry when they were both studying in college. Henry was a quiet young man who didn’t cavort around the town like the other students. Martha found this trait attractive and thought him handsome. A short courtship was followed by a wedding and honeymoon where Henry spent most the time at the local zoo studying the birds in the Aviary. Martha had admired his passion for birds, then. After the honeymoon the pair settled down to start, what would become, a boring, humdrum life together.

Although Martha had wanted children, it didn’t happen. Later it was discovered that Martha couldn’t conceive and she became introverted and suffered from bouts of depression. Henry always seemed more interested in his Canaries than in having an early night with his wife. As the years advanced Martha had tried to understand her husband’s enthusiasm for the little birds but couldn’t find any pleasure in them. For more evenings than she could remember Martha had sat watching the television alone.

          One day, Martha returned home with a small black and white kitten. She called the cat Moggles. Henry was not at all pleased and after a short exchange of words, he told Martha her cat must never go near his precious birds. Moggles followed Martha everywhere and the pair became inseparable. Martha was able to give the cat much of the love that had lain dormant inside her for so many years. 

          As the years past Henry built bigger and better aviaries and began to breed his Canaries into prize winning birds. He had shelves full of trophies and certificates. Martha sat on the sofa and watched TV with Moggles. Moggles was by now quite old. She was a large, round and lazy cat, and like all cats suffered from curiosity. Moggles often sat by the Patio windows looking out at the back garden. Moggles could see all the little coloured birds flitting about in the large outdoor aviary but she had never been allowed out into the back garden. Henry didn’t want the cat anywhere near his precious birds. Moggles however had other ideas and wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

  Then it happened.  One Saturday morning, when Martha was out shopping, Moggles managed to get out of house and into the back garden. Slinking over lawn Moggles sat staring into the aviary. The site of all the colourful birds flitting about behind the wire suddenly reawakened repressed hunting instincts in Moggles. The cat flew at the wire, screeching, and trying to get at the birds. The noise of the squawking birds and the screeching from the cat, brought Henry running.

          “Get away, get away you nasty animal.” Henry ran at the cat and without a thought, let fly with a massive kick catching the cat like a fluffy football. Moggles flew, screeching,through the air and hit the fence with a sickening thud, Moggles didn’t get up. . Henry hadn’t noticed, and at that point didn’t much care what had happened to the cat, he was busy trying to calm his birds. After several minutes Henry emerged from his aviary and looked over to where the cat had landed, he could see a lump of black and white fur laying amongst the flowers. Moggles didn’t get up, Moggles was dead. Without pausing Henry went into his garden shed and returned with a spade. It took just a few minutes for him to dig a hole, in the flower bed, large enough to bury the cat and as he patted the soil down with the back of the spade he allowed himself a grin of satisfaction. He’d never like the damn think anyway.

          Martha returned from her shopping trip and expected Moggles to run up to greet her just as she had done for the last ten years. Martha called out.

          “HENRY...” She cried, “Henry where’s Moggles?  HENRY where are you? Where’s my cat?” Henry came into the kitchen but before Martha had time to ask him anything Henry made his defence statement.

 

          “I told you, when you brought that cat home, not to let it go near my birds.” Martha realised something wasn’t right.

          “Where’s Moggles, Henry? What have you done?” Martha went up close to her husband and looked hard into his face. The coldness in her eyes and the venom in her voice shocked him.

          “WHERE’S....MY....CAT?” Her raised voice and the hotness of her breath on his face caused Henry to take a step back. He blurted out.

          “It was an accident. I never meant to hurt her but she was attacking my birds I wasn’t thinking, and I kicked her.” There was almost a hint of regret in his voice, almost. Martha glowered, and turned her back on her husband before saying.

          “What did you do with her?”

           “I....I buried her in the flowerbed.” Then, almost as after thought, he added. “I thought you could put a marker there if wanted too.” Martha didn’t move, she had tears running down her face, but she wouldn’t give Henry the satisfaction of seeing her like this. Speaking with deliberate quietness she replied to him.

“One day, Henry, you’ll regret taking the one thing, that I had, that belonged to me.” Martha walked away and left her husband alone in the kitchen.

          The years continued and gap between Martha and her husband widened. They still shared the same house but  Martha took less and less interest in her husband, and his hobby. Henry, for his part, put all his energies into his bird-breeding project.  For many years Henry had been choosing the darkest coloured birds to breed. It had taken almost thirty long years of selective breeding to reach this point, and the first of the new season’s eggs had hatched to reveal the first clutch of Melanistic Canaries in the world. Henry was the first person ever to breed all black Canaries, he was beside himself, running, shouting into the house.

“Martha, Martha. I’ve done it, I’ve done it.”

“That’s nice dear.” Replied a totally disinterested Martha, not bothering to look up from watching the TV. Henry tried again.

“Martha, don’t you realise what this means?...... I’m going to be famous.” Martha continued to stare at the TV screen.

          “Yes dear, I’m very pleased for you.”  Henry just stood by the door and looked at his wife. He didn’t understand why his wife wasn’t as excited as he was.

          “Martha I’ve spent thirty years of my life trying to reach this moment. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Martha pointed the remote at the TV and clicked the ‘OFF’ button then turned to looked across the room at her husband and replied in a calm, deliberate voice.

          “Henry, I’ve spent thirty years listening to you talk about your bloody birds, thirty years sitting here while you read about your bloody birds and thirty years watching you spend all your spare time with your bloody birds, so, yes, it means something to me, it means I’ve wasted most of my life sitting here watching the bloody television on my own while you were off playing with your precious birds.”

Martha turned back to the TV, pressed the ‘ON’ button and stared at the screen once more. Henry was lost for words. He’d never known his wife talk to him like this before.

          “Martha, don’t you understand, no-one else has ever succeeded in breeding totally black Canaries. I have six black baby Canaries, right now they are the most rare and most valuable birds in the world.” Without looking up Martha replied.

          “Yes dear, I understand, congratulations. I’m sure you’ll all be very happy together.” Martha pressed the remote and the sounds from the TV filled the room again. Henry stood quite still, he looked for several seconds at this stranger sitting on the sofa watching television, then he turned and left the room.

In the aviary, six tiny black bundles huddled together in the nesting box. Over the next few weeks Henry watched over them like a mother hen. The black Canary babies grew bigger day by day and the black feathers had started to grow. When the birds had left the nesting box Henry decided the time had come to announce his birds to the world.

           One Monday morning, several weeks later, Henry made some important telephone calls. He arranged for the head of the National Canary Breeders Association, the editor of The Bird Breeder Monthly magazine and the young lady reporter from the local newspaper, to visit his aviary the following Saturday afternoon, promising them something that would astound them. It was going to be the most important day of Henry’s life and a milestone in the world of Canary breeding. For the rest of the week Henry hardly left the aviary.

           Saturday morning at last arrived and Henry was up even earlier than usual. He wanted everything to be perfect for his special visitors. The Chairman of the Canary breeders Association would be arriving by train at one thirty. Henry checked on his birds several times before he was ready to leave to collect his guest from the railway station. Before leaving he said farewell to his wife telling her he’d be back around two o’clock if the train was on time. Martha grunted something under her breath, she had plans of her own for the afternoon.

At two o’clock Martha waited by the door for her husband to return. It wasn’t long before Henry’s car pulled into the driveway followed by the local newspaper reporter’s van. Martha opened the door as the three men and a young woman approached. Henry noticed Martha had a slight smile on her face as she warmly greeted the guests with a new enthusiasm.

       “Please, come in, come in.” She said, moving aside to allow the young woman and the men to enter. Before Henry could follow, Martha released the door and turned to usher the three visitors into the living room. Henry followed closely behind and as he drew up beside the reporter Martha suddenly said.

“Henry dear, I know how important a day this is for you and so I bought you a special gift to celebrate this special occasion, and to make it a day you’ll remember always.” Henry was shocked into silence, he didn’t know what to say.

“Errr Thank you dear.” Was all he could manage, he didn’t know what to make of his wife’s new attitude, she hadn’t bought him anything for years. Martha smiled, again.

“Yes, it’s something I’ve wanted to get you for some time now.” She said. Henry gulped and managed to say.

“Well I’m sure I’ll be very pleased with it.” Henry was confused.  Martha turned to address the visitors.

“Please Gentlemen, Miss, if you will follow me, this way.” With that Martha led the way through the living room and out through the Patio doors onto the lawn, coming to stop in front of her husband’s aviary.

It took only seconds before Henry was screaming like a stuck pig. The young lady turned and started to wretch and vomited gobbets of carrot and spaghetti all over Henry’s bright green lawn. The Canary Breeders Chairman stood with his hand over his mouth biting onto his knuckles and the Editor gasped.

“Jeeezzuss.” He exclaimed.

 In front of them was a scene of utter carnage. Inside the aviary bits of dead birds, blood and feathers littered the floor. Sitting on a perch was a large brown bird with a blood covered yellow face. A black feather stuck to it’s huge beak.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” Screamed a frantic Henry. Martha calmly started to move back to the house.

“I bought you a new bird. Do you like it? It’s called an Egyptian Vulture.” Henry couldn’t speak. When she reached the patio door Martha turned back to address her husband one last time.

“I told you I wouldn’t forget what you did to Moggles.  I’ve put the divorce papers on the table, sign them before you leave.”

 

          

© 2017 MAD ENGLISHMAN

Reviews

[Loganr Williams]

watching the relationship between the two characters change, and the wife's revenge was amazing, keep writing you have a talent

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

Thank you so much Logan.

[MomzillaNC]

Left me speechless and loving the dénouement!

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing story my friend. Revenge can come quickly or when the time is due. I like the set-up of the story leading to surprise ending. Thank you for sharing the outstanding story.
Coyote

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

Thank you Coyote. long time no see you here. Nice to have you back.

[Coyote Poetry]

I have been here. Just working too hard lately. And you are welcome.