I Almost Love You by Bassam Imam - HTML preview

I ALMOST LOVE YOU

I continued to walk southward until I reached Rene Levesque Boulevard. I didn’t want to take any chances walking on Saint Catherine Street; therein are too many pedestrians and too many vehicles. Although Rene Levesque Boulevard is a somewhat busy street, it’s wide and not quite as congested as Saint Catherine Street.

I switched directions, heading east, with my head slightly lowered in order not to be too noticeable and paws at the ready to sprint like crazy if needed. Nothing was going to stop me from leaving the city. I simply had no choice.

For a while the coast was clear. But then, as soon as I reached Place des Arts I took notice of a patrol car at the end of the block. Normally, I would’ve noticed it much earlier, but given the circumstances, I had many things on my mind.

Somehow, the extreme stress of my situation fumbled my behaviour. As soon as I was parallel to the patrol car I kept glancing at the police officer and then looking away, over and over again until it became clear that he began to stare at me.

The police officer exited his patrol car with his hand on his holster. Then, he pointed the index finger on his non- shooting hand at me and spoke.

But even then, I was still glancing at him, looking away and then looking back at him.

Just then, I remembered what the ticket booth attendant had told me to say about Cinema X. I didn’t realize until after the fact how stupid my words were.

“Officer, I don’t know where Cinema X is.”

“What did you say? Kitty, come here, right now. I want to speak to you, all right.”

I was so terrified and confused I spoke additional self incriminating words, unintentionally of course.

“Officer, umm, umm, umm ... I’m not a wanted kitty. I’m a law-abiding citizen. I’m not a fugitive from the Montreal Animal Shelter, and umm ... I’m not the gray-coated kitty that every police officer in Montreal is looking for.”

“Wait a minute! Kitty, I know who you are. You’re Zoe Marshall Thomas.”

The officer withdrew his firearm and then proceeded to fire at me.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

What the hell! The officer was trying to kill me! I ran north into a side street, running zigzag. I felt like a young gazelle trying to evade a hungry predator on my tail.

“Dispatcher, this is Officer Franklin Moore patrol car #44567; I spotted Zoe the wanted cat on Rene Levesque Boulevard and Place des Arts.

It’s the real kitty his image is plastered on every police station bulletin board in the city and in Canadian Post Offices throughout the country.

Dispatcher, I need backup. Zoe’s very dangerous. He’s a terribly fast runner too.

Send for animal control, and ask Captain Williams if he can put Rufus and Boris, our two Bloodhounds to good use. They’ll sniff out that pathetic little kitty.”

“Request received and will convey immediately. Please be patient Officer Moore, help will be there in a short while, dispatcher out.”

I was so terrified my heart felt like it was punching my ribcage, I became dizzy and nauseous.

To make matters worse, numerous patrol cars began to converge upon the area. I could hear sirens from various locations throughout the city. The sirens were becoming louder and louder, indicating that my problem with the police had escalated to an extremely dangerous level.

I was in a side street, with hardly an option at hand. Instinctively, I scanned the area and then scaled the nearest building. The scaling part was probably a remnant of a leopard or jaguar strain in my genes. It was a fantastic escape and protective measure.

Thankfully, the building wasn’t too high, perhaps three or four floors. I’d scaled it from the back side. Judging from its shape and form it wasn’t an apartment building.

As soon as I got to the roof, it became apparent to me that this was to be my only possible hideout. By now, I could see multiple patrol cars within a couple of blocks of the police officer who’d called in for backup. I made certain to stay low.

But there was something unusual. There was a parking lot just below me. And for some reason there were a dozen patrol cars parked therein. Two of the cars were actually police vans.

It wasn’t until I zoomed in on the parking lot sign that I got the shock of my life: POLICE STATION #19.

What, I exclaimed to myself. I was standing on the roof of a police station. I scanned the area thoroughly, and thankfully didn’t find any cameras. But when I scaled the building there could’ve been a camera in another building focusing on the side street. In that case, I’d be finished.

I was in for the long haul. I was so dizzied and nauseated that I puked my brains out. Shooting loads of puke onto the side street. I wasn’t about to puke on police cars or police vans, now way.

By the time I returned to my previous position I simply passed out, falling in and out of consciousness for numerous hours. When I was conscious I tried to induce a state of unconsciousness; there was nowhere to go. I had to wait until the smoke cleared.

I awakened late at night. Judging from the moon it was close to midnight.

There wasn’t a single patrol car in sight. Nor did I hear anything resembling a siren or police officers conversing with each other. It was apparent the police thought I continued my getaway. They were likely searching for me in other parts of town.

Thankfully, I regained much of my energy. The long rest did me much good.

I scanned the entire area below going to one corner of the roof and the other, just to be on the safe side. And thankfully, the coast was clear.

Instinct told me to continue my trek to the Greyhound Bus Station located near Berri UQAM Metro Station. I was in a do or die situation. I didn’t want to die.

I carefully descended the building. Upon reaching the ground I scanned the entire area again. I was taking absolutely no chances. Police use night vision goggles when necessary.

Being that I’m a cat, it was expected.

It was out of the question to walk through or around the patrol cars in the parking lot. No doubt, the area was highly infested with motion detectors and other high-tech cameras.

I backtracked through the side street and then continued walking eastward on Rene Levesque Boulevard until I reached Berri Street.

I spotted a patrol car just a block away from the bus station. Therefore, I concentrated very hard, zooming in on the patrol car with my incredible feline vision. Thankfully, it was empty. It’s normal to see patrol cars in this area because there`s much traffic and the national library is nearby.

I lowered my head just a bit in order not to be too visible and then I used my claws to comb my hair slightly forward partially camouflaging my beautiful face.

A short while later I entered the Greyhound Bus Station. There was hardly anyone therein. Considering it was already past midnight, it was no wonder.

I had an uneasy feeling in my gut; something just wasn`t right. My first thought was that it was a trap of sorts. Often times, fugitives and individuals seeking a quick escape for whatever reason travel by bus. Security is quite lax in bus stations.

Out of the blue a chubby middle-aged man wearing a Greyhound Bus uniform carrying a happy-go-jolly expression on his face called out to me. I was so startled I actually catapulted into the air and made a primitive feline shrieking sound.

“Hey, kitty, I`m sorry, like umm, I wasn`t trying to startle you. I love cats. I was hoping that I could help you. You kind of look a bit dazed, confused and lost. Are you all right?”

Wow, that was a relief. I wasn`t sure if he`d recognized me. If he had, I would`ve been a dead goose.

“Oh, sir, thank you. I want to go to western Ontario.”

“Kitty, I know exactly why you want to go to western Ontario.”

Once again, I found myself in a situation of extreme fear. I had a hard time speaking to the Greyhound worker.

“Umm, sir ... umm, I mean like umm oh you do ... umm, know why I want to move to western Ontario.”

“Kitty I`m from the Maritimes, as such, I can smell a die- hard Anglophone from a million miles away. I’ve seen your kind. Actually, I used to be like you. You love multiculturalism, but you draw the line when it comes to the dominant language. You want English only, and you`re dead serious about that.”

Mr. Greyhound worker, actually, you’re absolutely right.”

“Yes, kitty I`m right and, umm ... you said something about wanting to travel. Well, go straight ahead just past the restrooms, and then turn left.

But I must forewarn you this is ‘Creepy Bus Night’ at Greyhound Corporation’s Montreal Station. Every blue moon we reserve an hour, almost always between midnight and one in the morning to send passengers to unusual or unpopular places. It’s kind of like a ‘Twilight Zone’ or ‘Alternative Dimension’ kind of a thing. Don’t ask me any questions about it, I’m only a supervisor here, I’m not a physicist or any other kind of a scientist.

If you want to go to a ‘normal city’ or ‘town’ you’ll have to wait until after dawn. Kitty, after all that I’ve told you, do you still want to go to western Ontario?”

“Yes, and thanks for the heads-up and have a beautiful work night.”

I hustled to the only ticket booth in service. Thankfully, there was no one else in line. The ticket booth attendant was, well, a midget. I`d never seen a midget at Greyhound before. He was friendly and courteous though.

There was only one bus leaving and it was going to Creepy– Ville Ontario. I had no other choice but to go there.

I couldn`t wait in the bus station for several hours.

I walked to section twelve. The bus was parked in front of the glass door. The driver was drinking coffee.

As soon as the bus driver took notice of me he waved me over. Although he had a big smile on his face something seemed really creepy about him. The bus was to be my temporary sanctuary. I`d be hidden therein and would be on my way soon.

I entered the bus and then gave my ticket to the driver. He took my ticket, grinned at me and then spoke.

“Kitty you’re lucky to be leaving Montreal. There’s an APB (all points bulletin) out on two extremely dangerous criminals, the first is a kitty the second a vampire.”

“I don’t understand this scenario, a kitty and a vampire are both wanted criminals?”

“Kitty, listen, Premier La Fleur spoke about ‘Dracula’ and the ‘extremely devious kitty’ on live television last night. Our premier wants each of their heads to be placed on a platter for all to see.”

“Wow, I guess I haven`t been watching enough local news lately. Mr. Bus Driver thanks for the heads-up.”

“Kitty it was my pleasure. And just one more thing, that fellow in the back looks like he’s really lonely. I’ve been a bus driver for fifteen years. I’ve seen countless passengers. I know what I’m talking about.

Kitty, I’m going to be driving out of this parking lot in a few minutes.”

I grinned at the bus driver and then proceeded to walk to the back of the bus wondering who the person seated in the bus was. With each step I took his scent became all the more familiar.

When I was within a couple of feet of the man’s seat I became extremely excited. My senses were telling me that I knew this person. His name was on the tip of my tongue. I had to see his face.

“Gosh Vlad, it’s you!”

“SHHHH, please lower your voice, I don’t want the bus driver to know my name.

Zoe, leap onto your best friend’s chest and give him a big hug and a kiss on each cheek.”

I did as Vlad asked. I in turn asked Vlad to kiss me on each cheek and to pet me between the ears and on my sides.

Vlad obliged me for several minutes. It was now time to fill each other on what was happening.

Vlad and I conversed for a couple of minutes and then I took notice of a slightly faded red spot on Vlad’s green– coloured shirt. I had to make sure it wasn’t human blood.

I grinned at Vlad, gently pawed his face and then made it look like I was embracing him all the while I was sniffing the red spot.

“Zoe, you don’t trust me. You think that I’m a vampire; that ‘Vlad Zakula’ is the person responsible for the night-time vampire killings!”

“Oh, no Vlad, I was really embracing you. I knew that wasn’t blood. C’mon, I’m a cat. I have a well-developed olfactory sense.”

“Zoe, are you being completely honest with me?”

“Yes, Vlad I certainly am.”

“Okay, Zoe, now it’s my turn. Do you know who the extremely devious kitty is; the one that’s presently wanted by the police?”

“No, Vlad, I really don’t.”

“Zoe, I’m really happy to see you. Can we live together, I mean, in our new home town?”

“Of course Vlad, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

Vlad reached underneath his seat then pulled up a blue duffle bag. After opening it I got the shock of my life. Therein were thick wads of twenty dollar bills. There must’ve been close to a million dollars in the duffle bag.

“Zoe, I have roughly a million dollars in this duffle bag.” “Vlad, I have over two million dollars at my disposal.”

“Zoe, I almost love you.” “Vlad, I almost love you too.”

For the time being, things looked like they were getting better. Vlad and I had practically completed our escape.

“Vlad, I think we’ve escaped the authorities. What do you think?”

“Zoe, I agree with you wholeheartedly. I think that the police will never contemplate our being on a Greyhound bus together, going to Creepy-Ville Ontario this late in the night.”

Vlad and I conversed for a short while and then stopped dead cold. Our eyelids h