new year.
This concept has gradually blurred in Kuze's impression. In the first year of moving here, my grandfather had just passed away. He was struggling to deal with all kinds of paperwork and the hostility around him, and he didn't care about the New Year at all. In the next two years, he tried to regain his sense of ritual, but Kuze had no family to reunite with, nor friends and colleagues to drink with. Of course, there was no Buddhist temple where he could listen to the bell, and there was no shrine where he could do first prayers. He ended up doing just one sweep of the whole house on New Year's Eve.
But this year, with cats, Kuze decided to make some changes.
He wrote the celebration plan two days in advance, including a series of chores and a lot of New Year's meals - including the cat's share. The cat was very dissatisfied with the deprivation of the right to cook at Christmas. Kuze didn't know how to tell the cat that he had a problem with his sense of taste: that apple pie was too sweet, as if he was eating sugar.
Since the cat likes it, it's better to let it go...
Kuze left the cat in the kitchen and did the New Year's sweeping by himself. Not only the living room study and bedroom, he was determined to clean the garage and basement thoroughly this time. The garage shelves have been sorted out last month, but the basement has not been taken care of for nearly three years. Kuze pushed the door open, turned on the lights on the ceiling, and could clearly see the dust floating in the air.
He put on gloves and a mask, adjusted his glasses, and switched on the vacuum cleaner.
The sound of the vacuum cleaner was so loud that Kuze didn't notice when the cat went downstairs. Kuze didn't notice the cat's arrival until the cat pushed through the door and coughed loudly because of the dust swirling around like a tornado.
"...How long has it been since you cleaned it?" The cat covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and asked in a gruff voice.
Kuze stood awkwardly with the vacuum cleaner, and was stopped by his own cat. The cat came in right in the middle of his cleaning, when everything was messed up. Kuze was as disheartened as the storage room, and he couldn't even find an excuse.
Shame... he thought.
The cat obviously didn't really want to wait for an answer either. It went into the basement and fell on the tarpaulin that had been lifted while cleaning. There was a mountain of debris piled up under the awning, and it seemed that it had been properly sorted out at first, but it collapsed like a snow mountain at some point. At a glance, you can see that the rope of the swing is entangled with the legs of the grill.
The cat rummaged through the clutter and picked up a bird stand: "Do you keep birds?"
"Grandpa raised it." Kuze replied, he took the bird stand, wiped the dust off it, and returned it to the cat, "Macaw. Do you know this kind of parrot? It's such a big one."
Kuze gestured for a length. That's really big for a parrot. In Kuze's impression, whenever it appears in a chat video, it can always take up the camera completely. Kuze couldn't remember how old the parrot was. As if he had the memory of the parrot being next to Grandpa in the beginning. Parrots are colorful, and grandpa often wears colorful clothes. I don't know who influenced who.
"It is said that a parrot can live to be 80 years old. Grandpa sometimes jokes that he will give it to me as an inheritance... But that summer, a wild cat jumped in from the kitchen window and killed it." Kuze said , he probably started to really have a terrible and brutish negative image of cats since then.
"Grandpa said that the wild cat is not big, not counting the tail, it may not be as long as a parrot, but it is very fierce. The parrot is kept at home and has never fought. It is so big, but it can't do anything. Compared with the wild cat, It's not fast enough to run away. When the feral cat comes, it must be very scared and wants to fly high, but the living room is only so high... When grandpa found it, the whole living room was colorful with parrot feathers."
Kuze still remembers his grandfather's self-blame at that time. He never had any other pets. It's not his fault Kuze reassuring him, but whose fault is it? Maybe that feral cat just didn't want to go hungry. It didn't know that grandpa would provide food as long as he opened his mouth, without having to kill. Or maybe that feral cat simply likes to kill. Who knows.
Kuze looked at the cat in front of him.
The cat looked startled and had some indistinguishable emotions. It did not comment. The atmosphere was a little dignified. Kuze thought maybe he shouldn't have said the cat killed the parrot, but it did happen. Cats are cruel and vicious creatures. He doesn't like cats, only this one is special.
Kuze decides to distract the cat's attention. He patted the tarpaulin and changed the subject: "Do you want to look at it again? There should be some useful things. After the snow melts in the spring, you can put some in the backyard."
In fact, he didn't know what was in the pile of junk. After grandpa was admitted to the hospital in the winter, he never cleaned it up again, and the huge tarpaulin covered all the memories. In my impression, Grandpa's backyard is different every season. Gardens and the short-lived spring when everything is new, the splendid summer has a barbecue in the evening sunset, the autumn is the climbing frame of wine and vines, and the winter, the cold and silent but the most magnificent and magnificent...
Obviously living alone, why can grandpa maintain a home so enthusiastically? Kuze still thinks it is incredible. He can't. Just living here has exhausted all his strength.
There was a clanging sound in my ears, and it was the cat trying to free the outdoor swing from the clutter. The swing rope was untied from the legs of the barbecue, but the swing bracket was hooked on the vine climbing frame again. There is also a short stainless steel ladder at the top of the climbing frame, which looks like the kind used for swimming pools—he doesn't have a swimming pool, right? Grandpa wouldn't be idle enough to dig a pool and fill it up again, right
Kuze put down the vacuum cleaner and helped the cat struggle to separate the swing from the other objects. The cat put up the swing frame on the spot, tied the rope, and looked ready to try it. Kuze stopped the cat and retightened the screws. He hadn't completely backed away when the cat jumped on his back with a run-up, wrapping his arms around Kuze's neck. Kuze was taken aback by it, but the cat laughed happily in his ear, and he didn't care.
The cat rubbed the back of Kuze's neck as a thank you, and then climbed onto the swing seat from Kuze's back. Kuze gave a light push, and when he let go, the rust at the connection made a harsh sound. Due to the limited space in the storage room, the swing can only sway slightly, and the cat's heels kick on the ground with each sway, but it doesn't seem to mind at all.
"Your grandpa is very funny," said the cat, sounding rather cheerful.
"Yeah," Kuze said. He looked at the cat's self-entertainment, and suddenly felt a little sorry for it. It would be nice if he was a person with such a taste for life. The cat's time here will not be so boring. It is a cat, but it can only accompany him in the study. He remembered the joy of jumping into the snow when the cat was trapped on the roof, and he remembered the excitement of the cat in the wild when the log was discarded.
Kuze didn't say anything, just quietly packed up the backyard furniture that the cat had just uncovered, and planned future plans in his mind.
I don't know when the crunch of the swing has slowly stopped. Kuze looked up and saw the cat standing in front of a small door deep in the storage room, looking at it with interest. He walked over to the cat, who apparently heard it too, and turned back to him with a questioning look. Kuze nodded to it, and the cat pushed the door and entered, and the sensor light flashed several times, casting a dim light.
Inside are more than a dozen huge wooden boxes. Kuze looked at the curiosity that was about to overflow in the cat's eyes, smiled, and took the initiative to open one. A huge, plastic-textured piece of white paper was exposed under the plank, with a label sticking to the corner. Reaching along the label, you can feel the edge of the frame of the painting below it.
"It's Grandpa's work," Kuze said. "It's framed and sealed here. When there's an invitation to exhibit, I'll send the painting to the city, take protective measures, and then send it to the exhibition. I also need to check the status regularly. Does it need varnish maintenance or something. The temperature control and humidity control in this room are specially designed.”
The cat could not understand what he heard, and walked around the wooden box in awe, not daring to reach out to touch it.
Kuze looked amused: "Don't be like that... It's not that great. Grandpa is not the kind of painter that has been handed down from generation to generation. His paintings are only slightly famous among Japanese-Americans, and they have only been exhibited four times in the past three years."
"I know, but that's pretty cool too," said the cat. It stared at the thumbnails on the labels, trying to work out what the oil painting looked like inside. That look was so cute, Kuze almost wanted to tear off that layer of oiled paper on the spot. It's a pity that there was too much dust outside during the cleaning just now, so it's not a good time to open the oil painting.
"After the new year, I will do an oil painting maintenance. Would you like to see it?" Kuze said. Of course that wasn't his original plan, but the cat didn't have to know.
Cats are obviously very interested in all new experiences that have never been tried. It happily agreed, and made an appointment with Kuze ahead of time, for fear of conflicting with the oil painting exhibition time. Kuze had to explain to him that he had not been invited to an oil painting exhibition recently, and specially showed the cat his calendar—in the column of important matters, there were only records of four exhibitions.
"Are you staying in America to help grandpa with the paintings?" the cat asked.
"Yes," Jiushi paused and decided to tell the truth, "I think... I didn't take good care of him during his lifetime, and now I have to leave and take good care of his paintings."
The cat nodded. It looked thoughtfully at a circle of wooden boxes, and Kuze followed it around.
Compared to the dusty outer storage room, this collection room is clean and tidy. Kuze will clean everything on a regular basis. There are more than a dozen wooden boxes in the collection room. Except three boxes are paintings, the rest are video tapes and books collected by Grandpa. Grandpa's books used to be too many to fit in the study room, so he put all the English parts in this collection room. Kuze's English wasn't too bad, but he basically didn't speak the language. Why use English when all his reading needs can be met by the internet in his native language
Kuze had never read Grandpa's books. He casually opened a wooden box containing books. Originally, he just wanted to show his grandfather's collection to the cat, but he didn't expect the cat to look very interested when he looked at the colorful book covers. It rummaged for a while, picked up a magazine-like booklet, and just leaned against the door of the collection room to look through it.
"Do you understand English?" Kuze asked in surprise.
The cat raised his head, his expression was a little difficult to describe, but he still nodded to him.
"Then would you say that?" Kuze asked curiously. In his impression, the cat can only meow and speak Japanese.
The cat's expression was more complicated. It let out a long sigh, stood up straight, and put the book back in the box. Kuze was still waiting for the cat's answer, but the cat just brushed past him and returned to the dusty storage room. It took the vacuum cleaner leaning against the corner and turned it on.
The roar immediately filled the entire basement again.
Kuze felt that the cat didn't want to help, it just didn't want to talk.
On New Year's Eve, the snow that lasted for a week was still rustling, but after dark, it became clear. Kuze and the cat were chatting around the stove at night, and after eating the New Year's pot, a fine layer of hot sweat broke out on their bodies. If he was still living at his parents' house, Kuze would have to prepare for the New Year's Eve in the early morning of the next morning, and it would be time to go to bed now. But of course there is no first attainment here. Kuze got up and stretched his waist, grabbed two cans of beer, and invited the cat to go out for a stroll.
The temperature of the pot is still in the body. When indoors, it seems that the whole person is soaked in the white steam of the hot spring, and the mind is also groggy. Going out and walking around in the snow, it finally landed from the cloud to the ground. Kuze raised his head and took a sip of cold beer, and instantly shuddered.
"Drinker," the cat muttered. It has recently become addicted to the Internet and has also learned some very colloquial words in the news section of the Yahoo homepage. Kuze was often amused by the outdated buzzwords. The cat said he was an alcoholic, but in fact the cat drank no less than him. Considering that the cat is only about 60% of his body weight, this cat can drink more than him.
Kuze raised his head again and poured the beer can to his mouth. This time, no beer fell into the mouth. He shook the empty jar.
The cat snickered beside him, and Kuze laughed along with him. He threw the beer can at the garage door, trotted after the cat, cupped its cheeks in both hands. The cold hands made the cat scream. The cat stared at Kuze angrily, and he quickly retracted his hand to divert the topic: "Are your feet cold? Should you carry your back?"
"This is not an apology." The cat accused, but it didn't look very angry, on the contrary, it seemed to be amused, "No, the back also needs atmosphere. Not now."
The cat waved his hands in a "no atmosphere" gesture. It was very cute, like a elf in the moonlight reflected in the snow. Kuze couldn't help but think of Kaguya in "The Tale of Bamboo Pickup". He thought about the ending of Kaguya turning into moonlight and flying away, and he was a little lost for a while, and slowly landed behind the cat.
The cat quickly noticed. It stopped and looked back, seeing Kuze behind, it walked backwards to his side, and took his hand. Both hands are cold, no one can freeze anyone. Kuze rubbed the cat's fingers, feeling a strange satisfaction.
They walked across the front yard and onto the concrete road. There is no public service on this stretch of the road in winter, and naturally no snowmelting agent is sprayed. There is only a trail that Kuze occasionally drives with a snowplow.
The cat walked in front, and Kuze followed behind. He looked at the cat's back and said, "From that day in the basement, you seem to have something to say."
"You can see..." The cat turned his head and glanced at Kuze, "I really want to say something, but I don't think it's a good time."
"Um?"
"Christmas, New Years, are not good times." The cat sighed maturely, paused for a moment, and continued, "But when is it? I feel like I'm just procrastinating. That's not my character."
"What's your personality like?" Kuze asked.
"What do you think?" the cat asked.
What is a cat's personality like? Kuze can't eat.
Cats are vigilant, don't trust others easily, and can be sweet once they do. Cats have many fantastic ideas, are innocent and unrestrained, and are completely unreasonable when they complain willfully, but they are also unreasonably cute. Cats like physical contact, they like sweet and bitter flavors, and they are very concerned about their skin and beauty... Kuze can talk about it for three days and three nights like this. Is this the nature of cats? It seems more than that.
Kuze can't describe it. A cat is a superposition of many memories, many events, many touches and temperatures. He thought that if he had studied literature, he might have summed up cats better. But he was just an ordinary unemployed traveling doctor, and he couldn't think of a sufficiently refined sentence. He was able to mentally draw an exploded diagram of a cat's musculoskeletal viscera. But that's not enough to describe a cat. Just like the definition of "left and right", it is only valid under certain circumstances, at the time of this planet.
Kuze answered honestly, "I don't know."
"Oh... I don't know too much. It's probably a straight-forward, relatively simple personality." The cat stopped and turned to face Kuze, "It is said that this kind of personality is quite popular in this industry, Because I don't hold grudges. But it's not that I don't hold grudges... I just don't like to procrastinate, I just want to finish everything quickly. Only you, just because of you... "
The cat fell silent. Kuze wondered what it wanted to say to him. He squeezed the cat's paw in his hand.
It looked up at Kuze and said, "You changed me. You hate me."
Kuze didn't think the cat hated him. He felt that the way it said it, as if it loved him to death.