The Cat Who Liked Rain

Thirteen

It was clear to Lukas from the very first day that going to school was going to be fun. The thought that going to school for at least ten more years, nearly twice as long as he’d already lived, every day in the autumn, winter and spring, didn’t worry him in the least. He had the impression that life was really, really long. It was like a road that never came to an end.

His mum had accompanied him to school that first day. Lukas would have preferred it if his dad had been there as well, but Axel couldn’t take the day off work.

‘You can tell me all about it this evening,’ he’d said to Lukas. ‘I can hardly remember what it was like, starting school. But I might remember when you tell me how you got on.’

There was a chilly breeze, but the sun was shining on the day Lukas started school. As they passed through the garden gate, Lukas took a look at the skateboard track and the wild currant bush. But Night wasn’t there.

In fact, Lukas would have been surprised if he’d seen the tip of Night’s tail. After all, he knew that Night was in the strange land where umbrellas grow wild.

It seemed to him that Night was a clever cat. He hadn’t wanted Lukas to start school and at the same time be worried about what had happened to his missing cat.

As they walked to school, he wondered if, after all, it had been the piggy bank he’d thrown into the wishing well that had made Night come to visit him in that remarkable dream. He would have liked to ask his mum about it. But he’d told her that the wet secret was secret! He couldn’t tell anybody about the wishing well. Not yet, at least. If you’d managed to keep a secret for a few days, then maybe it didn’t matter so much if you told your mum about it — only her, mind you.

Then they came to the school, and Lukas couldn’t continue thinking about Night. It was exciting, starting school. Lukas knew that you only did it once in your life. And anything you only did once was important, something you would always want to remember. Not forget about it, as his dad had done.

‘Do you remember when you started school?’ he asked his mum.

‘Everybody remembers that,’ she said with a smile. ‘Except your dad, of course.’

‘Was it a long time ago?’ Lukas asked.

‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘Far too long.’

‘How long?’

‘More than twenty-five years ago.’

Lukas couldn’t really imagine how long twenty-five years was. But then, it was good to know that time didn’t pass too quickly. That there was room to sleep and play and go to school. And think about your missing cat.

A thought suddenly struck him.

‘How old can a cat become?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Beatrice. ‘Pretty old, I think.’

‘But how old?’

‘Twenty, perhaps.’

‘Not twenty-five?’

‘Yes,’ said Beatrice eventually. ‘I think there are probably cats who live to be twenty-five.’

Lukas giggled at the thought of Night growing so old that he needed to walk with the aid of a stick. How would that be possible? Would he need four walking sticks as he had four paws?

But he hadn’t time to think that thought to its conclusion. It was time to go to the classroom for real, the first time ever.

He was starting school now.

As early as that first day, their teacher told them all to go home and think about something interesting they’d like to tell their classmates about.

‘I’m going to tell them about Night,’ Lukas told Beatrice as they walked home together after the first day at school, which had been very short.

She frowned and looked hard at him.

‘But that wouldn’t be much fun,’ she said. ‘Telling everybody that you have a cat who’s run away. And made you so very sad.’

‘I’m not sad any more,’ said Lukas.

Beatrice paused.

‘You’re not? How come?’

‘I know that Night is doing fine,’ Lukas explained.

‘You mean you’ve seen him?’ she asked in surprise. ‘You haven’t said anything about that.’

‘I’ve dreamt about him,’ said Lukas. ‘And he’s doing fine. He’s just gone away. To another land. But I can’t tell you any more. The rest is a secret.’

‘That’s great news,’ said Beatrice. ‘Your dad will be pleased when he hears that. And Whirlwind as well.’

‘Not Whirlwind,’ said Lukas sternly. ‘He mustn’t know anything about that. If I say that Night has gone away, he’ll want a dog.’

‘Good God, no!’ said Beatrice. ‘No more animals in the house!’

‘No,’ said Lukas. ‘It’s enough with Night. He still lives with us. Even if he is away.’

During the afternoon Lukas crept under the skateboard track and sat down. He needed to work out how he was going to tell the story of Night to his classmates. It wasn’t all that easy. In fact, it was quite difficult to turn it into a story that hung together. Especially as it was about a cat as remarkable as Night.

But in the end, while he was still sitting under the skateboard track and it was starting to get cold, he hit upon the best way of telling it. Now he knew!

When his dad came home in his lorry, Lukas ran out to greet him.

‘Now I’m going to tell you what it’s like, starting school!’ he shouted.

Axel smiled.

‘I like it when you come running to meet me, looking happy,’ said Axel.

Lukas sniffed at his overall. It smelled of farmyard.

‘You’ve driven to the slaughterhouse today,’ said Lukas.

Axel nodded.

Lukas had guessed right!

Two days later, Lukas told the story of Night. He had taken with him all the photographs he had of Night, and shown them to his classmates. He told them all about Night, everything Night had said in that strange dream. He had realised that Night had come back to him in the dream for that very reason: he wanted to give Lukas the most remarkable story of all. He’d wanted to give Lukas something really special and exciting to tell.

Mind you, he wasn’t sure afterwards that his classmates had grasped just how remarkable Night actually was. He thought it best to continue talking about Night, even during the breaks. Some of his classmates told him they were sick of hearing about that missing cat. When that happened, Lukas could be angry and sad. But he continued telling everybody about Night even so.

And so, one day, Lukas got a nickname.

Just how it happened, nobody knew.

But suddenly, there it was.

Somebody had said it, and somebody had overheard it and passed it on. You never really know with nicknames. They have their secrets, just as cats can have secrets, and humans as well, come to that.

You can never be completely sure about where a nickname comes from. Perhaps it was Night himself who’d used it for the first time. Whispered it into the wind that had blown it into the schoolyard, where somebody had heard it, and passed it on.

It was impossible to know.

But one day, somebody in the school yard shouted:

‘Lucky Night!’

And Lukas turned round immediately, because he knew he was the one somebody was shouting to.

Lucky Night. Lucky Night.

It sounded odd at first, almost like a foreign language. But soon, everybody had grown used to it, and nobody apart from the teacher called him Lukas any more.

Lucky Night. Lucky Night.

It was a big day in Lukas’s life when he got a nickname. Whirlwind was no longer the only one in the family with a nickname. There were two of them now.

‘It’s a strange nickname,’ said Whirlwind. ‘But it’s a good one. There’s nothing else like it.’

‘There’s nothing else like my cat, either,’ said Lukas.

‘Oh, come on,’ said Whirlwind in irritation. ‘It’s run away! Stop talking about that cat! Learn how to skateboard instead. Nobody wants to hear about that stupid cat!’

Lukas didn’t bother to respond. Earlier, he would no doubt have been both angry and sad. But what does anybody called Lucky Night care about what an elder brother thinks? An elder brother who doesn’t even know that the most remarkable cat in the world is now in a land where umbrellas grow wild.

They don’t care at all, Lukas thought. I’m not going to stop talking about Night. And if nobody wants to listen, I can always talk to myself. Nobody’s going to take my cat away from me.

And soon it was winter, and the skateboard track and the currant bush were both covered in snow. Occasionally cat paw-marks were visible in the white snow. But Lukas knew they were tracks left by another cat. Night was in a land where it rained all the time, a warm rain that sang tunes. Night was sitting there on his rock, licking his fur clean and thinking.

His cat was a king in Rainy-Weather Land.

His rock was his throne. From there he could keep an eye on his enormous realm. Only when it suited him did he receive visits from other cats. On very special occasions, Night would go off with his dream in order to talk to Lukas.

And then the whole world held its breath.

Nobody was allowed to disturb them when Night and Lucky Night were together.

Never, ever...