The adulterous panhandler

Cracker Penhaligon panhandled for a living

Years ago he had been a merchant banker. All know what this rhymes with. Then he decided it was time for a change. So he bought a catfood company. Nice mushy crap for lovely little felines

All over the world

His company became so big he had to hold meetings in the middle of the ocean; the nearest place for all the guys who ran his national branches; sort of in the middle of the intricate web of his different interests, the eye of the storm so to speak

The yacht would be moored in the middle of nowhere, a few hundred yards from a tiny island, the name of which was never revealed, so much interest was there in the business world about finding out what new measures, takeovers, crazy schemes Cracker was about to instigate.

Truth is, by that time in human history, there were more cats than humans on this dear old planet of ours, so much so that really it wasn't so much this dear old planet of ours, but more this dear old planet of theirs: the catplanet so to speak, the pussysatellite, Furrygaia, whatever its new name was

And Cracker had bought the fledgling company just before this all became reality

Kind of in the right place; at the right

Well time had kind of disappeared by then

Let us just say that he'd been lucky

And then the pussies really took over everything

First of all they ran schools; to make sure little humans would learn catvalues

Then they ran businesses, the entertainment world; and finally government. This tale takes place at a juncture in time when people like Cracker were more an exception then a rule. They let him carry on because he traded in food and was good at it

And the pussies loved their food

So he was given catstatus; catprivileges, although really he was still human in his heart of hearts, and pining for a time when humans were the species at the top of the Earth tree; but, and he had to come to that conclusion himself, all things must change

For a while he even had a cat mistress

A gorgeous silver Siamese he'd met at a meeting in Bangkok

They'd eloped to Bali, and there had been talk. She was after all the daughter of a prominent member of the Furballparty, a splinter group of the International Cat Organization, the biggest contender for world domination

They'd just managed to keep it out of the papers, but it had been a close-run thing

In Bali they reached levels of bliss not usually allowed to humans; but then again she wasn't

After that he returned to his human wife, but some say that the die was cast; and that from then on Cracker's allegiance to his own race was much diminished; and some even started to blab about the fact that Cracker was about to try for the transformation; to become a bona fide pussyman, a mancat as they had started to be called

Of course this was only rumour; and too far ahead of its time, considering where we have got to in this narrative

Time will tell; or rather it would do if it had not disappeared.

Cracker was about to become talk of the town; not of his own volition, but certainly of his own doing.

Cat lady for a mistress. Now that was something new. There had been a period when he favoured African girls. Ebony embraces he liked most on the plains of Africa; just to make sure he kept it all in style; like a sushi feast in a Kyoto bar

In fact his marriage was only there in name, like a business arrangement. His feelings for his wife were almost nonexistant. So he'd had an African period; a Japanese one; and for a while he'd dated Hungarian beauties. Mainly for the sound of their otherwordly language

And now, to match the hyperbolic growth of his wealth, something more exotic was called for. Hence the catlady

The furry Queen of Siam

At this time in Earth history it would still have been shocking to his shareholders. In many ways this set him out as a trailblazer of sorts; a knight of the new interrelational possibilities; things that would be normal in the future. But those times were still far ahead of him, and he'd have to contend with the primitive realities of his age

The catlady; on her side, did not find it any easier. After all weren't cats the rulers of the planet. What was she doing with one of the servants ?

She kept it under her hat for as long as she could; but feline tongues got talking. A daughter of the elite; what did she think she was doing ?

Truth is she liked her little human, and although he would never match the dexterity of his feline counterparts she was happy he could be a satisfying lover. He'd shown her he could.

And she felt for him. Like she never had for a four-legged one

She did not even broach the subject of cat tranformation. In many ways she knew it was too early. And more; she kind of liked his pink bipedism; his physical clumsiness

After their first encounter they let time elapse before they met anew; to gauge the reality of their tryst. She went back to being a society lady; he to his business interests

She was introduced to high ranking felines on a regular basis; her parents felt if she could be married off, all that craziness would dwindle; and this surely was the way forward. The only way.

Cracker went back to his Kenyan mistresses; his Budapest loves. But the fire was just not there. It remained purely physical; and nudging the tender age of fifty he wanted more out of life. Out of love

He shuttled around the globe like an hyperactive bumblebee. Meeting here. Meeting there. The odd encounter to alleviate the tension of his working days. But all the time she was there in his mind. In his heart. Like a transfer on his soul. Her silky fur. Her delightful paws

Their affair went all the way to the top and there was talk of relieving him of his privileges. He was summoned at Central Court and in no uncertain terms it was made clear to him that he would have to choose between romantic madness and the plusses of his life as one of the only remaining humans given the right to trade on equal terms with felines. He could still see the mane of the imposing lion who told him: " Forget Margarita, or wave byebye to lucrative catfood profits; you would be destitute within days.

He took a fornight off to ponder on his predicament. In Singapore; now a luxury resort for cat executives in need of rest.

Of course he mused; if he had the surgery and pledged allegiance to the new race things might be different, but somehow he doubted it

He would only be a cat by default, a clumsy construction, a second-rater in the world of felines

He could run with her away from Earth, and go to a far planet where such marriages were not frowned upon; where no one would ever question their idyll

But that he ruled out. He loved earth too much; it was his favourite place, his original home.

Two weeks of reflecting left him none the wiser. Whichever way he tossed the whole business in his head he could not find a happy solution

He finally decided he would let God decide; hand over the whole matter to Fate

Got involved deeper in his work. As a pale substitute and soother. Drank more than he should have; and became a little frayed around the edges

Snappier in tone. It made him a shrewder operator; a more demanding business associate. People remarked on it. Before long he became so much sharper that he doubled the value of his stocks

His shareholders applauded

At the end of the year he was voted best business human of the year; in a feline publication. His face was all over the world press; and his wealth now equated him with the five wealthiest cats on earth

He felt his strength increase

She got in touch through a confidante

They met in Borneo. Up country. In a hut owned by primitive humans. Of course in those days they were not called primitives anymore. Their lives were more in touch with feline values; but still their were renown for their silence and their dedication to the cause of men. In a nutshell they would keep quiet. No leaks would happen

To say that that second meeting was a meteoric encounter would be underplaying the energy that was displayed. They positively melted in each other. He felt like a cat during that week. She could have been African. Hungarian

Thunderbolts struck them in the middle of the night, when six legs were entwined, when fur and skin became one

The locals felt it all; plants grew quicker, more beautiful

Then they had to part again; but when they did so, they took each other with them

He stopped drinking and became even more ruthless at work. Next year he thought he would be businessman number one; ahead of all cats. He started back with a vengeance

Somehow the High Council got wind of the fact that they had met in Borneo. How and why do not really matter so much; but it seems that SHE might have leaked the information

For what reason it is not clear, as she was really likely to see her beau whisked away to total oblivion, leaving her heartbroken and at the mercy of all these catsuitors she so despised

Understanding the psyche of a woman or catlady in love would always be a difficult endeavour

The Council's reaction was not what would one would have expected either

Following the warning which had been dealt Cracker, one could have hoped for extreme ire, leading to his demise in the world of catfood

But no

Not what transpired

Indeed the fact that he had transgressed the directives of the Council seem to excite them

In the positive sense of the word

Something cattish about it all

A sort of feline disrespect fot the rules of others

They decided to do nothing about it, just yet, just observe where this wreckless human would go next. He was put under careful observation, catdetected

What he did next surprised many. Not least himself

Margarita

The detectives from the Council

For he did not see her for a whole year

Instead he worked

Worked like the damned

The possessed

Did so much work he hardly ever slept

Worked in his office in the dead of the night, nursing a small glass of Glenfiddich

Just the one

Worked on planes across continents

Worked on holidays which he took with his human wife and children

Worked

Worked

Worked

At the end of the year it transpired that he had been the most successful business in the entire galaxy, cat or no cat

He was given the prize at the worldwide TV show in Lhassa. The Catheadquarters

Some say that his acceptance speech was the reason for his final demise. Others that a man, with such a desire for punishment, had to know what the effect of his speech would be and that whatever befell him after it was only fair in the times and places where he lived

But no one is sure

For there, and in front of ten billion viewers, most of them cats, he spoke of his love for the beautiful Margarita, and his desire to be united with her with the approval of the Council. The screens went dead

Cartoons were shown.

When the ceremony was back on screen there was no longer any trace of the renegade businessman

All thought the Council had seized him; that now he must be in the basement, receiving the pounding he so rightly deserved

Truth of the matter no one actually knew

Maybe he had

Maybe he had not

Even the Council wasn't sure

Maybe the zealous detectives

Maybe a lynchmob incensed by the gall of the man

It all carried on peacefully

No one gave it any further thought

Maybe the times were a-changing, in this time of no time

Weeks went by

..............

His private jet alighted in Siam. He commandeered a car and made straight for her house. They flew to Los Angeles, a place where humans were still a majority. Straight for his house on the beach

And there, admiring the beauteous palms rising in the searing heat, she told him she had seen the TV transmission

She looked unimpressed

He failed to understand her

Women were hard; catladies more so

They bickered for a while. He accused her of reporting him. She of not knowing what was right anymore

They spent the rest of the day in silence

At dusk he went to the drinking cabinet

Took his entire stock of Glenfiddich and placed it all in the boot of his car

Then he drove slowly, having left her there in the deckchair on the patio overlooking the sea

He found one of his favourite spots

A high place from which you could see the lights of the entire city; complete with jets coming in and out of LAX

Slowly, like a priest performing an age-old ritual he unscrewed the golden metal top of the first bottle

An hour later the second

Some claimed he even got to a third

Birds fought in the midnight sky, as if in competition with the roaring jets

Everytime they lost

They could only make this much noise

In the morning Margarita was on one of the metal birds, headed back to Siam, like a winsome catfatale

Cracker begged for small change on the streets of LA for a further twenty years. TB got him in the end. By the end he grew whiskers

His demeanour more feline everyday

His gait even had the suppleness and total sure footedness of the cat

He died alone at the Catmission. Humans would not have him.