Under the Rain

Four

I thundered into my apartment. Everything was strewn apart. The sofa, the TV, the china, the carpet, everything was a mess. But that the priceless porcelain vase didn't capture my attention nor did the irreplaceable platinum bracelet that I had been gifted last year on my birthday, was missing. All I cared for was Sugar. Bustling around drastically, I sought for my precious munchkin.

"Sugar! Here girl!" I clapped my hands.

"Where are you?"

I glanced under the cushion, the bed, looked into the cupboard, flung aside the curtains, but she was gone. Still unconvinced, I was attempting to check out the bathroom, when the old grey-bearded police officer, who was inspecting the case, said, "No use ma'am, we had searched the entire apartment. Not a living sign."

I sighed, looked down to shield the disappointment, and nodded. He asked me if he could be of any help. I shook my head and fell down on the heart-shaped sofa.

The thieves couldn't possibly take Sugar, what use was she to them? Perhaps, she had just fled out of fright. She'll come back. I tried to assure myself. As mundane as it sounded, a 'regular munchkin cat', Sugar was family. Not only because I had never been separated from her for a moment in all her life, but also because she was a present from Grandpy before had I left my childhood house in Oklahoma for the city. Tending her as she grew in my arms from a scrawny pink furless creature to a big, healthy, fluffy cat, she reminded me of Grandpy's unconditional love for me. As if he was always, right here, with the two of us.

She wasn't usually the sort of a runaway. What if she's lost by now? Or worse, what if they had kidnapped her? Or what if some car had accidentally-

Ok. That's it, mourning and imagining wouldn't help. Haling a deep breath, I steadied myself and jumped up from the couch. The door was open and I could still hear the police sirens from below.

Walking out of the house, I locked it, though the gesture no longer seemed so assuring anymore, and hobbled down the stairs out into the night. I caught sight of Mrs. Mason, my 70-year-old next-door neighbor and a witness, who was the one who reported us and the police of the robbery at my house,  stuttering into a mike, held by a news reporter. Before I could even reach her, the anxious reporter wheezed towards me. As if I would disappear into thin air if he wasn't quick enough, for a successful cover story.

"No report, sorry," I said into the mike before he could even question me. I was just not in the state to be answering to the watching world.

But even then, ignoring the hint, he huffed, "Maam, can you say something about the burglary? About your whereabouts, the time when you got back, the condition of your house?".

For a moment, I decided to dismiss him again but produced a better idea. I seized the mike and announced out," 100 dollars for any person who can find and bring me my missing cat. It's a small white blue-eyed munchkin with a red ribbon on its neck. Thank you."

As intended, I walked over back to Mrs. Mason.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Mason?." I asked.

Her face broke out in a smile, "I'm perfectly all right. Thank you, Rosy. I should be asking you if you're ok? Not much damage is it?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm just a bit worried about Sugar ."

"Don't worry, my child, " She's smart enough to find her way back home."

She patted my shoulders, "After all she cannot live without good Mrs.Mason's brownies can she? I tell you if nothing, then my magic brownies will bright her back." I joined in her giggles. It was true. Mrs. Mason and Sugar rejoiced each other's company.