Oliver's Journey

From the time he was an infant, Oliver knew he was different from the other two youngsters in the house.  For one, he was adopted.  He had no memory of his mother, and he had never met his father.  Second, unlike the other two youngsters, he couldn't speak at all.  He had been born mute. 

Although he liked his adoptive parents, Wayne and Susan Johnson, they just didn't seem to have enough time for him anymore.  Wayne was a truck driver who was often away from home for long periods.  Susan, although she tried, just couldn't spend much quality time with him anymore.  Her own children, Patricia and William, were 3 and 4 years old, and they kept her busy.

Lately, Oliver had been spending a lot of time by himself.  He loved the old farmhouse they lived in.  Over the past several years, he had explored every inch of the old place.  His favourite room was the attic.  He would spend hours up there - playing, studying bugs, or intently looking out the small attic window.  He especially liked that window since it faced the river.

The river in front of the old farmhouse was Oliver's second favourite place in the whole world.  If he wasn't up in the attic, he was down by the river.  He would sit on the wooden dock for hours - sunbathing, napping, or watching the ducks, geese, and fishermen going by.  Sometimes, the fishermen would even wave to him.

Oliver also had one other favourite pastime - waiting in the driveway for Grandma Betty.  She was the actual owner of the old farmhouse, and she lived in a big city far away.  Almost every other weekend, she would drive up to visit the family, cook for them, and lovingly tend her vegetable garden in back of the house.

Oliver loved Grandma Betty more than any of the others, and he looked forward to her visits.  He even somehow seemed to know exactly when she would arrive.  Whenever Oliver ran out to the driveway and stared down the dirt road, Susan would spot him and yell, "Grandma Betty's on the way, everybody!  Grandma Betty's on the way!"

Grandma Betty's arrival and weekend stays always brought joy, laughter, and good home cooking to everyone in the Johnson household.  All of her meals were delicious, but Oliver really loved her fried chicken.  And, Grandma Betty always made sure Oliver got an extra helping of that dish.  She would even hug, kiss, and tuck him in his bed every night, while she was there in that old farmhouse by the river that he loved so much.

Two months ago, everything had changed for poor Oliver.  Grandma Betty arrived one Friday afternoon with the news that she was retiring from her city job and moving back to the old farmhouse for good.  Everyone was very happy.  The Johnson family had finally saved enough money to buy their own home; and Susan, Wayne, Patricia, and William could hardly wait to move.

Oliver, however, did not share in their excitement.  Why would he ever want to move away from here?  This was the only home he had ever known.  This was the only home he had ever loved.

When moving day finally arrived, Oliver hid in the attic and pouted.  No one could coax him out.  Grandma Betty finally had to drag him out to the van.

As she cheerfully waved good-bye to them all, Oliver sat glumly in the back seat - sadly watching his wonderful home and wooden dock disappearing before his very eyes.

As the other family members laughed, joked, and excitedly talked about their new home, Oliver sat silently, growing more miserable with every passing mile.

First, they headed down the old dirt road along the river; then they crossed the river on a steel bridge; then they got on a big four-lane highway.  They seemed to travel forever.  Then, they turned off the highway and headed down a blacktop road.  Eventually, they came to a town.  Finally, they pulled into the driveway of their new home.

As the rest of the family excitedly carried boxes into the house, Oliver slowly got out of the van and looked all around.  Their new home was located on a busy street, in a new subdivision.  It looked exactly like every other house on the block.  Worst of all, there was no river.  Oliver knew he could never live here.

Without hesitating another second, he walked away from the new house towards the centre of town.

That had been two days ago.  Although he had now finally stopped for the night, Oliver had been walking ever since.  He had walked straight through that town and down the blacktop road.  He had marched on until he had reached that highway.  It had scared him to death.  There were too many cars, trucks, and buses racing down it.  But he had to get home.  He just had to.  So he had kept right on walking in the tall grass by its edge.

He had reached the steel bridge and his treasured river hours ago, yet he had still pushed on.  He knew that it couldn't be much further now, but he was hungry, afraid, and tired.

Just as he closed his eyes, a loud fierce growl startled him fully awake. All he saw in the darkness were two big yellow eyes; and, even worse, he heard another terrible growl.

Oliver jumped up and ran.  He ran for his life. With his heart pounding and his legs almost giving out, he finally looked back.  Whatever had been chasing him through the forest had finally disappeared.  And it was almost dawn again.

Although totally exhausted, Oliver marched on.  He walked for hours. Finally, he climbed a hill and spotted his old home. Total joy and excitement immediately filled his entire body.  He raced around the farmhouse as fast as he could, straight into the garden - straight into the loving arms of Grandma Betty.

"Oliver!  My dear, dear, Oliver!  Thank God you're safe!  Where in the world have you been?  The entire family and most of their neighbours are out looking for you!  You've scared us all to death.  I really wish that you could tell me where you've been.  I must call Susan immediately!"

Several hours later, after a hot bath and a big helping of Grandma Betty's fried chicken, a very tired, but very happy Oliver slowly headed up the staircase to his bed.  On the way, he stopped at the doorway of Grandma Betty's room, just to check on her.

She saw him standing there and called out to him.

"Come here, Oliver!  Come here, my sweet, sweet, Oliver!  You've had quite a journey and you must still be scared to death.  Why don't you sleep here with me tonight, my dear?"

Without hesitating one second, Oliver jumped on the bed and snuggled next to Grandma Betty.  As she smothered him with hugs and kisses, Oliver never felt safer or more loved in his entire life than he did at this moment.  And although he couldn't speak, he did find a way to show his love to Grandma Betty.

Oliver began purring as loudly as he could.  Although cats can't speak, they can truly purr your ear off when they're happy.

And, there is no happier cat in the entire world than the cat that's cuddled up with the person it loves, in its own home.

Ed Kostro

Be sure to check out Ed's websites.

http://edkostro.home.comcast.net/wsb/html/view.cgi-home.html-.html

www.authorsden.com/edkostro

Ed's bio:  

Ed Kostro is a freelance writer and member of The Cat Writers' Association. His work has appeared in Catholic Digest, ByLine Magazine, The Almanac for Farmers & City Folk, Pets: part of the family, PetLife, Cats, and Baku's 'Zine.

Oliver's Journey first appeared online at www.critterzine.com.

Ed's non-fiction animal memoir, Curious Creatures - Wondrous Waifs, My Life with Animals, depicting his 50-year love affair with all animals, has recently been published by PublishAmerica.com.  Oliver's Journey is also an excerpt from this book.

Ed currently resides in Illinois with his wife Rebecca, five rescued felines, and several rambunctious canines.

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