How Leo Found His Wings

I am, by nature, a person of intellect. I have been blessed with the rare ability to assert mental dominance over whatever situation is at hand. Thus, in this time of uncertainty, I lay out the facts as I see them.

One: I am laying in a pile of assorted refuse behind a building labeled “Tres Amigos”

Two: By the sun's position, it is roughly 9 in the morning.

Three: There is a strange cat clinging to my left lower appendage. Four: The cat's name is Luz. I know this with unshakable certainty. I fear we have become intimate.

Five: There is a man who has been yelling at me in Spanish for the past three and a half minutes.

Six: I have just vomited on his shoes. Also on Luz a little.

Seven: I am having severe doubts that I am still in Boston

I am escorted with precious little consideration from what must have been my bed. The man and I do not speak the same language. A true moment of culture meeting culture. He kicks me in the shins. I understand this to be international language speak for “please evacuate the premises immediately.”

I exit the alley with admirable dignity and, dare I say, aplomb (all things considered). I would like to see anyone else try that. Luz follows, her affection for my leg as passionate and unsettling as it was in the bin. I will deal with her later.

I squint impotently against an objectively brutal assault of sunlight as I step out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. I am facing down a row of bright, cheerfully decaying colonials. The smell of steaming meat, tortillas, and pepper wafts past. I am intoxicated and nauseated at the same time. My sensory collection is interrupted by a sudden, gentle hiss. I look down. It is not the godless leg molester. A second hiss reveals itself to be emanating from two windows down right. I hesitate.

The owner of the agitated whisper hurries out. I have time to take in a violently colored dress and a head of equally flamboyant hair before I am whisked to where I assume it will be harder to hear me scream. The hair is attached to a plain face-albeit one made interesting with fury. “What are you doing here?! People are looking for you!”. I try to focus on processing this information but I am distracted by a nascent headache. The throbbing is in time with the twitch above her left eye. I find this pleasing. Mental note to myself to share this observation if my new friend turns out not to be the murdery type. Luz hisses. This is not a good sign. Or is it? I am not one hundred percent on the trustworthiness of this particular alley cat.

I finally pull myself together long enough to sigh out a reply. “ I haven't the faintest idea, ma'am. Also, what people and why?” The woman takes a step back. Her face has done an impressive 180 from anger to fear. “Leonard...you do remember me...don't you?” I am silent. I need to find a gentle way of telling her that no one could forget the first time they saw troll doll hair on a real human. I can't.

The woman sinks to the ground. “what have I done?” “Nothing that can't be undone by letting me walk out that door”. This is a good reply. I find time even in this difficult situation, to give myself a mental pat on the back. My companion looks up from between shaking hands. “I can't do that anymore, you're not who you said you were, Leonard! They were right the whole time! God, I am such an idiot!”. She stands up, “do you even have a wife?”

I am torn between my need to know what on God's sensible earth is going on and my need to not accidentally pull some kind of pin on this human hand grenade. I make a decision. “I do have a wife”. Pause to think. “Cynthia was telling me just this morning what a great friend you are!”

This does not make her happy. “Oh god.... I lied for you, Leonard. I hid you. I fucking helped you escape. Do you even understand what that makes me, now??” She is moving closer. I notice for the first time that her arms are unusually muscular for a woman. Her eyes are darting back and forth. Bomb very much not defused. She reaches for her phone. “Leonard, you are going to sit here like a good boy while I call the police. You are not going to move. Do you understand me?”

I understand alright. I understand that a confused, horny cat had better judgment than a grown man. No more. I don't know what happened to lead me to this point, but I know that there is no way I am winding up in a Mexican Jail. Is this Mexico? Why did I think that? No time, I need to make a move. Confident. Decisive. “No, dear. I have done nothing wrong. So let me tell you what is going to happen. You are going to move aside and let my companion and I pass (Lets be honest, Luz has earned it by this point)”.

The woman is crying. Tears are streaming down her face even as she continues to advance. “I am so sorry, Leo. I wanted to believe you. I really did. I thought I was helping. Please, please don't make me tie you up”. She looks so sad. I feel for her, I really do. “I would never make you do that...kind friend”. I hope that is right. We are standing so close now. This is the distance needed to bridge a misunderstanding. This is the distance from which to effectively assault someone with a cat.

She is shrieking. Luz and the madwoman both, that is. I book my exit posthaste screaming on my way out, “find me Luz!! Find me!!”. My heart is pounding, my throat is dry. There is no time for detailed analysis of the situation. I make a decision. The desert is calling. I run.

-----------------------------------------

Anna finally pulls the cat off her face. The furry little bitch immediately bolts out the door. Anna is laughing. Hysterical laughter, yes, but still relieving. There is no time to waste. She pulls out her phone and dials. She has one call to make before she dials the police.

“Hello? Is this the Kaminsky residence? This is Anna from the hostel last night. I lied. Your father was here. I'm sorry. I am so so sorry. Please believe me. He seemed so sane! I believed him! Please, anyone would have if they just met him in that state!"

Anna is crying now. “He said you had been keeping him from finding his wife. I don't even think there is a wife. I just assumed because he kept saying that he needed to find his darling, his Luz. She had left him during their last vacation together in Mexico. His Precious. Fucking. Luz”.