At 8:50 P.M. I heard a knock on my door. Naturally, I jumped out of bed and then proceeded to open the door.
The pizza delivery man was young, perhaps nineteen or so, skinny and wearing a Jerry‟s Pizza uniform.
“Sir, would you like me to put your order on the table right there?”
“Yes, but I also want you to pull the table close to my bed. I want to eat my meal while watching television. I don‟t want to watch from an angle. I prefer straight viewing.” The pizza delivery man did as I asked. Afterwards, I paid for the meal and gave him a three dollar tip.
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My tip put a big smile on his face. Afterwards, he said goodbye and left in a rush, like all other delivery persons both men and women.
Instantly, I got down to business eating and drinking like there was no tomorrow. Eating and watching television is a real treat.
I was so damn hungry I ate the pizza without using my paws.
I just dug really deep into it with my mouth and ripping apart whatever I could and as fast as I could. Thankfully, the pizza was very tasty.
As for the super sized pop I imagined that it was black blood. But I had to use a straw to drink it. I used my tongue to scoop up the salad and then pulled it into my mouth. I finished off my meal eating the pie and cake in one bite each. I guess you could say the meal brought out the lion in me.
As luck had it, it was a CSI: NY marathon. I wasn‟t complaining.
I stayed up until midnight falling asleep for a few hours afterwards.
The three days I spent at the Bartlett Motel were enjoyable indeed. I pictured it as being a good hideout if needed in the future. Peter appeared to like me and there was something about his mannerisms that told me he was the kind of guy who‟d take a bribe from a fugitive on the loose.
I checked out of the Bartlett Motel exactly three days later at noon. As soon as I left the motel premises I scanned the entire area for any possible dangers. Thankfully, I didn‟t detect any. Traffic was continuous and pedestrians were too preoccupied with their own fates to notice a lone cat. I liked that because as far as I was concerned I wasn‟t in the clear quite yet. I‟d travelled very far and my feline instincts were still working.
Technically, I was a newbie in Montreal. I had to get settled down before feeling truly secure.
It was a partly cloudy day, cool and with a light south-westerly breeze. I decided to walk south-east. This would take me directly to the downtown core of the city.
I continued walking for another hour and a half before reaching Westmount, a suburb or as some Anglophone Canadians call a borough. I prefer the former term. It‟s the one most used in North America.
As soon as I reached Sherbrooke Street West I felt a sigh of relief. People were walking and enjoying themselves. The streets in the general area were clean and the homes and buildings were nice.
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From my position I had two choices to make; go eastward and then a few blocks south to reach the downtown core of Montreal or stay in the suburb.
I snuck into an alley to ponder about what to do. My final decision would be very important, indeed.
While pondering about what to do I decided to pull out my copying machine and get to work. I needed to „deposit‟ money in the bank. Naturally, I wanted the maximum amount without drawing too much attention.
I hacked into the Royal Bank of Canada‟s computer base and then successfully deposited one hundred thousand dollars into my new checking account. I wasn‟t interested in RRSPs, savings account or a guaranteed investment certificate. I just wanted to have money at hand in a secure checking account.
Furthermore, I programmed my copying machine to manufacture a Visa Gold credit card and a bank card. After completing my tasks I put the cards into my pouch. Then, I punched in the commands for five hundred dollars in cash. Naturally, I placed it into my pouch.
Being well off, I now felt a powerful rush of confidence.
Therefore, I decided to live in the suburb. Why would a rich cat not live in a suburb? I asked myself.
After a brief search for an apartment I came across a nice apartment building in the mountain section of town north of Sherbrooke Street.
The Nielson Apartments were just right for me. I liked the neighbourhood, the beautiful garden and entry ramp into the building and especially the facade, with two large ancient Greek style pillars and a beautiful arch prominently shown at the entrance.
As a general habit I scanned the area before entering the first set of parting glass doors. Then, I gently pounded on the second set of parting glass doors thereby alerting the security guard stationed behind a large Oakwood counter.
The security guard grinned at me and then buzzed me in. I was delighted to be treated so well on the initial visit.
The lobby was decorated with much beautiful plant life, three gargantuan chandeliers and several beautiful large paintings. In addition, I noticed a gigantic aquarium with a plethora of fish therein.
To my left was a dining hall fit for kings. I could smell the incredible array of foods emanating from the kitchen and seating area. But I had business to attend to. So I did what I had to.
I approached the counter and then leaped onto it, facing the security guard.
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“Excuse me sir, are there any vacancies at the Nielson Apartments?”
“Actually, there are. And you‟re very lucky, indeed.
Because one of our vacancies is a special vacancy, it was designed by the late John Nielson. The apartment room was designed to be cat friendly.”
The security guard spoke to the manager on the intercom, asking her if she was available. And to my luck, she was.
“Kitty, the manager‟s office is the room over there. You can‟t miss it the sign on the door says it all.”
“Thanks for the help, sir.”
I leaped onto the beautiful brown carpet and then strolled to the manager‟s office. I was hoping to get that kitty apartment. I‟d be on top of the world if I did.
As soon as I was within a foot of the manager‟s office I heard a short buzzing sound and then the door automatically opened.
Upon entering the manager‟s office I saw a middle-aged woman with greying hair. She was wearing a long dark brown dress with sleeves that reached up to her elbows. Her hair was beautifully tied into a ponytail and I noticed a dimple on her cheek.
“Kitty, come on in and please take a seat!” I took several steps forward and then leaped onto a brown wooden chair that was as shiny as a diamond. Come to think of it the entire office was clean and shiny. It must‟ve been thoroughly cleaned on a daily basis.
“Okay, how may I help you young kitty?”
“I‟m searching for an apartment for myself. No roommates, no car or anything else of the sort. I want a room facing the swimming pool you have. I scented the chlorine as soon as I saw the Nielson Apartments.
More importantly, I want my privacy. I don‟t like loud neighbours and I love sound-proof walls. I don‟t want to hear anyone else‟s music, arguments or television viewing, especially babies crying.”
“Okay, I‟ll show you our kitty friendly apartment. It has everything that you asked for and more.
Oh, kitty, forgive me for forgetting ... My name is Sheryl Conrad and it‟s my pleasure to meet you. I‟m the manager of the Nielson Apartments. I‟ve been so for the past fifteen years. I love this job because I get to meet different kinds of people.
And please call me Sheryl not ma‟am or madam.” Sheryl stood up, motioned me to follow her and then left the room. We walked down the hallway to the elevators. Sheryl then pressed the up button and waited. She grinned at me and motioned with her hands if I wanted her to carry me. I indicated 150
a no answer by shifting my head from left to right and right to left.
A minute, the elevator door opened. Sheryl motioned for me to enter first. I obliged her.
The elevator was large and well cleaned. There was a scratch-free, shatter-proof mirror therein. And the interior of the elevator was beautiful.
Sheryl pressed the number three button just before the elevator door closed.
I got the jittery-jumps because I had no idea what the rent would be. No doubt, quite high and although I was willing to pay much everyone except a billionaire has a limit.
Everything went just fine. The room had all the amenities I needed; an HD television, VCR/DVD player, Toshiba computer with internet access, Sony stereo system, a giant fridge and a separate freezer, microwave and a beautiful all-digital computerized oven.
Furthermore, beyond the apartment, the building itself contained a swimming pool, sauna and incredible eating facilities.
“Honey, Chip, well, what do you think?”
“Sheryl, I‟d really like to take this apartment but I have to know what the rent is first.”
“Chip, I can give you an incredible deal! But you can‟t tell anyone in the whole world what your monthly rent really is.
You must increase the amount by five hundred dollars if they ask you, okay? I‟ll give you this apartment with all the amenities for one thousand dollars per month.”
“I‟ll claim I‟m paying one thousand and five hundred dollars per month. I‟ll take the room! Now, where do I sign and how do you want your payment?”
“Honey, it‟s not quite that easy, though. I need three valid references that have lived in Montreal for at least five years and who have known you for the same duration of time. They must be professionals or respected members of the community in Montreal.”
I had no time to waste. So I did the first thing that came into mind. I opened my pouch and withdrew my credit card.
“Sheryl, take one thousand dollars as first month‟s rent and take another thousand for you. Your service here is remarkable.”
“Chip, you‟ve got the room!”
Sheryl motioned me to follow her back to her office. I followed her, patiently and happily.
Later on, Sheryl withdrew one thousand dollars for the Nielson Apartments and one thousand dollars was deposited into her bank account.
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Sheryl filled out the entire lease for me except the signature and date slots. I filled those out.
I took everything back to my apartment building and then crashed out until 3:00 A.M.
I felt like having something to eat. But not knowing the area I decided to call the security guard and make an inquiry.
“Hello, this is Fred, front desk security at Nielson Apartments. How may I help you?”
“Hi Fred, this is Chip Miller from apartment #309. I need some information about food.
I‟m new in town so I don‟t know where I can find something to eat this late. Can you help me?”
“Actually, Chip, our dining hall is open 24 hours a day.
You can actually order food up to your apartment or come down here and eat. Also, you don‟t have to pay up front. You can charge the amount due to your monthly rent. It‟s an incredible deal that most people only dream of.”
“Fantastic, please divert my call to the dining hall. I‟ll order food up to my room, and thanks for the sincere help.” I ordered a basic breakfast meal consisting of three pancakes, syrup and margarine, milk, juice, coffee with cream and sugar, and toast and jam.
My order took around twenty minutes to arrive, but I didn‟t care. I couldn‟t complain about meal delivery service in an apartment complex. This kind of service is usually available solely in decent hotels.
After finishing my meal I called room service to return the food trolley to the kitchen.
It was now close to 4:00 A.M. and it was October 29th. The danger period for cats in general had already begun and would last until November 1st or 2nd depending on the abuser/s.
I decided to go ahead and take a chance. After all I wasn‟t a black cat. I really empathized with black cats. They‟d always had it worse than other cats. But still, there was a general danger looming for all cats during this critical period.
Halloween as understood by kids is a time to dress up in costumes and get as much free candy as possible. Technically, there‟s only one night per year to do so.
Don‟t get me wrong. I know for a fact that trick-or-treating can be extremely dangerous. Some humans enjoy sticking dangerous objects in candies and then giving them to kids.
Others, more hard-core in their evil entice kids with candy, and well, you know the rest.
Unfortunately, for every creep that‟s apprehended there are at least several more creeps still on the loose.
I washed up, dried off and then put my key in my pouch. I couldn‟t believe how beautiful my apartment was.
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Soon afterwards, I exited my apartment and then went downstairs to the lobby. Before leaving the apartment building I leaped onto Fred‟s counter and conversed with him for a while.
Fred was a typical security guard who was content sitting on his butt staring at two computer monitors, one for security purposes and the other a movie or some other show. Fred, putting it simply, would‟ve felt at home living around walruses. They in turn would‟ve assumed he was one of them.
This fellow was so fat the management actually had to order a double-sized seat for him to sit in. He had giant sagging tits, a stomach that could almost fit a tire into it and a prominent feature of many humans who are obese he was sweating and breathing laboriously. Most of the sweat was on his face, but his armpit area was drenched too.
“Hey Fred, how‟s it going?”
“Chip, wow, my buddy, look I‟ve got a dozen jelly filled donuts here. I bought them at Tim Hortons. I also bought two extra large coffees with tons of cream and sugar in them.
Look, I‟ve just started drinking my first coffee. Please Chip, join me. My shift ends at 8:00 A.M. It‟s only 5:00 A.M.
What do you say?”
“Sure, can I have a couple of jelly filled donuts? I want a raspberry and a cherry please.”
“Sure, here you go, here‟s a napkin. Please put your food on the napkin. Otherwise, the counter will get dirty and I‟ll have to clean it.”
“Don‟t worry Fred I know how to eat like a gentle kitty.”
“Another thing Chip, don‟t tell anyone that you saw me eating so many jelly donuts. It‟ll set me up for some major mockery from the tenants. Furthermore, the management won‟t like that. Look, I know why they hired me. I‟m a fat looking clown and although I‟m officially a security guard I don‟t look intimidating. As you‟ve certainly noticed, this is a very posh apartment.
Chip, the tenants demand good security. I give it one hundred percent always. Whenever someone complains about something I get on it or I immediately transfer the tenant to the proper channels. I never forget to insert any and all complaints in the daily log book.”
Fred was an incredible guy. I really loved chatting with him. In fact, I ended up eating a half a dozen jelly filled donuts. He ate an identical number. Even our coffee consumption matched. But underneath my happiness I felt kind of bad. Here was this security guard at our apartment building inviting me to eat with him. He probably barely got more than minimum wage. And as with most other apartment managements they‟d fire him in a 153
heartbeat if he ever complained about his wages or lack of employment benefits.
I finally left the Nielson Apartments at 5:45 A.M. I took a long walk on the mountain area. I decided to descend the mountain at 7:15 A.M.
I walked on Sherbrooke Street for roughly an hour before coming across an employment notice. Being a rich cat I‟d always thought it beneath me to work. But for some reason I actually stopped and read the notice. Something told me to read it carefully. It read:
Do you care about people? Do you want to help people? Do you want to become a certified clinical psychologist or a psychiatrist in a jiffy?
This is no joke! If you are interested come to The Montreal Psychiatric Sanatorium located only 3 blocks west of the Nielson Apartments if you’re reading this then the job is for you.
I snatched the notice so no one else would read it and then I ran up the nearest hill heading towards the Nielson Apartments.
Within twenty minutes I‟d reached the Nielson Apartments and then walked due west for three blocks.
A few minutes later, I entered Block Street which led directly to The Montreal Psychiatric Sanatorium.
It was then that I got to thinking. How could it be so easy to become a certified professional in a jiffy? And there was something creepy about the building. The architecture was from the 19th century.
After pondering about what to do I decided to go ahead and enter the building.
I entered The Montreal Psychiatric Sanatorium building weary but intent on getting a professional job. The first thing I noticed was a young man sitting behind a counter working on his computer.
I leaped onto the counter and then opened up a conversation.
“Excuse me sir, I‟m answering an ad that I saw in Westmount roughly forty five minutes ago. I want to become a certified professional in the behavioural science field. Please direct me to the right place.”
“Hi kitty, how are you and what‟s your name please?”
“I‟m fine, thank you. My name is Chip Miller.”
“Okay, go to the end of the hallway and take an elevator to the fifth floor. As soon as you exit the elevator you‟ll see an information booth.
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Tell the worker your name and she‟ll direct you to the proper place. I‟ll inform her immediately so there‟ll be no delay.”
I thanked the young man and then walked to the end of the hallway. After pressing the up button I waited intently for one of the elevator doors to open.
Thankfully, it happened almost instantly. Come to think of it there was hardly anyone in the building. It was spookily quiet.
I went up to the fifth floor and then exited the elevator all excited about becoming a professional. My mood had suddenly elevated.
I approached the information booth and then leaped onto the counter and looked intently into the eyes of the elderly woman who looked like she had absolutely nothing to do but breath. She was too bored to even swat flies.
“Oh gosh wow, you must be Chip Miller!”
“Yes, that‟s me all right. I‟m here for a job interview regarding ...”
The elderly woman cut my sentence off before I could finish.
“Certainly, you must see Dr. Valley. His office is the last one down the hallway. You can‟t miss it.”
I thanked the elderly woman and then walked through the hallway. The patients‟ rooms had doors made out of specially designed fibreglass. The walls within the rooms were well padded.
As I walked through the hallway I saw patients in their rooms, many appeared to be docile or sedated. Others were talking to themselves. There was something fishy about this place. It didn‟t appear to be your typical every day psychiatric sanatorium.
As soon as I reached Dr. Valley‟s office and was about to knock on the door he abruptly opened it grinned at me with incredible enthusiasm and then waved me in.
“Hi, Chip, how are you my friend?”
“I‟m fine, thank you.”
“Go ahead and have a seat. I need to ask you a few questions, okay?”
“Yes, of course. I‟m here for a job interview.”
“Your legal name is Chip Miller?”
“Yes, Dr. Valley.”
“Do you have any experience working with psychiatric patients?”
“I have absolutely no experience whatsoever, Dr. Valley.”
“Do you think you can handle working full-time with mentally unstable and potentially dangerous patients?” 155
“Yes, I‟m certain that I can.”
“Well, you‟re hired. But I have to get you into the data base first. It‟ll only take me a few minutes.” I waited patiently and then got the shock of my life. After typing on his laptop Dr. Valley grinned at me and then turned the screen to face me.
“Chip, you‟re officially working here. As you can see, you now have a PhD. in Clinical Psychology and Abnormal Psychology from McGill University in Montreal. You are also a Chartered Member of the Canadian Psychological Association. You are licensed to work in the province of Quebec.
And guess what? If you can last here ... I mean if you work for us for two months I‟ll make you a certified psychiatrist.
You‟ll be able to write out prescriptions, diagnose patients and perform electro convulsive therapy. You‟ll be a big shot like me.
But there‟s one more thing. You must‟ve seen the employment notice in Westmount. Was it still there after you read it?”
“No, Dr. Valley, I snatched it and then tossed it into the garbage. I didn‟t want anyone else to compete with me for the job. However, I don‟t know how many employment notices you‟ve posted.”
“Dr. Miller, that‟s fantastic! This was the only posting that we had. If you‟d kept it I would‟ve had to send someone to destroy it.”
Referring to me as Doctor really made me feel good. But at the same time I wondered why Dr. Valley only posted a single employment notice. And another thing, he appeared to be anxious about this particular matter.
Dr. Valley abruptly stood up, bent over and then extended his hand and congratulated me. Afterwards, he informed me of what my salary would be. It was satisfactory.
“Dr. Miller, I‟ll take you to your first case. It‟s not on this floor, though, it‟ll be on the seventh floor. Room number seven hundred and three. The patient is an eighteen year-old female who we strongly suspect was assaulted by several or perhaps numerous men just over a year ago. Although this is a tough case I have confidence in your abilities. After all you‟re a doctor in this field and I‟m already proud of you, really!
I have one thing to give you, though. Here, this is your personal scanning card it‟ll get you into any patient‟s room in this building.”
I was flabbergasted! Chip Miller was now Doctor Chip Miller, what a compliment. And, Dr. Valley officially handed me my first assignment.
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I left Dr. Valley‟s Office and then headed straight to the elevators, pressing the up button and anxiously waiting for the door to open.
Just a short while later I found myself at the mouth of my patient‟s room. I held up my electronic card against the glass door. A moment later the door unlocked. I pushed it open and then entered the room.
I saw a young woman sitting alone crouched down and swinging and slapping away at an imaginary object/s of sorts.
She was also speaking to whatever she was swinging at.
“Leave me alone! Don‟t touch me! I don‟t like you! My body belongs to me! You all stink!”
Initially, I assumed Dr. Valley‟s suspicions to be true.
However, I decided to stay put and observe the young woman.
Perhaps her mental problems were caused by something else.
I observed my patient cautiously and patiently not allowing external stimuli to interfere with my mode of concentration.
I must‟ve sat there for seven or eight hours