The Cat Who Liked Rain

He eventually came to the edge of town. By then, he was so sleepy that he had to sit down on a bench and rest. He nearly fell asleep on the spot. In order to stay awake, he ate one of the sandwiches he’d taken with him in his rucksack. Then he set off walking again. Now it was light everywhere, from all the shop windows. He suddenly gave a start and stopped dead. In one of the big windows was a big black cat, sitting there and looking at him. When he went to examine it more closely, he saw it was made of porcelain.

That’s a clue, he thought. That means that Night is here in town somewhere.

He wanted to know what time it was. He stopped at a hot dog stall and hid in the shadows until there were no customers. Then he went to ask the time. He had to stand on tiptoe in order to see over the counter.

‘A quarter to nine,’ said a girl chewing gum. ‘Do you want a hot dog?’

‘No,’ said Lukas. Thank you very much.’

‘Thank you for what?’ she said angrily, closing the hatch.

Lukas hurried away. He’d been a bit scared of that girl. Maybe people who lived in the town didn’t like people who had run away from home and asked about the time without buying anything?

He started looking for a hotel. If he was going to have enough strength to run further away, he must soon get some sleep. He trudged along street after street, and soon was so tired that he almost burst out crying. He’d never have the strength to walk back home — and besides, he didn’t even know how to get there. He’d lost his sense of direction ages ago, wandering from street to street. He started to have nasty thoughts about Night, who’d caused all this trouble by running away from Lukas.

He eventually came to a big square where he could see a building with a large sign saying Hotel. It was a big house with lots of lit-up windows. Music was playing, and lots of people were sitting at tables, eating. He sat down on the steps, took out his piggy bank, opened it and counted up his money. He’d been right, he had thirty-two kronor.

Then he went in through the big doors. The room he’d come into was very large. And full of people rushing back and forth. Somebody was laughing very loudly, somebody else was using a telephone, and speaking a language Lukas didn’t understand. A man was standing behind a high counter, handing keys to people who came up to him. Lukas waited until there was nobody waiting there, then he plucked up courage and went there himself. The counter was so high that he could barely reach up to it this time either.

‘I want to sleep,’ he said to the man with the keys. ‘I have my own pillow.’

The man behind the counter didn’t hear him. Lukas said it again, but a bit louder. Still the man with the keys didn’t hear.

So he shouted.

‘I want to sleep. I have my own pillow.’

The man behind the desk gave a start. Then he noticed Lukas.

‘What did you say?’ he asked.

Lukas said it yet again.

The man eyed him thoughtfully up and down. Then he put his glasses on and leaned over the counter to take a closer look at Lukas.

‘How old are you?’ he asked.

Lukas thought it was best to be polite.

‘I’m seven,’ he said. ‘My name’s Lukas and I’m looking for my cat. I need to sleep now. I have my own pillow with me. And I have thirty-two kronor. I can pay.’

The man looked serious, and nodded.

‘I’m sure you can,’ he said. ‘I think you’d better come back here with me so that we can talk a bit more about it.’

He opened a little door under the counter and beckoned Lukas into a back room with a bed, a table and a television set.

‘So you’re out looking for your cat, are you?’

‘It’s run away,’ said Lukas.

‘And so you’re out tonight, looking for it?’

Lukas thought it might be best to tell him the facts.

‘I’ve run away,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to be able to find a cat that’s run away, you have to run away yourself.’

The man nodded.

‘I see,’ said the man. ‘Where do you live when you’re not running away?’

‘In Rowan Tree Road,’ said Lukas.

‘You said your name was Lukas. But when you take a room in a hotel, you have to give your surname as well.’

‘Johanson,’ said Lukas.

The man nodded, and smiled.

‘Of course you can have a room,’ said the man. ‘Why not lie down on that bed while I fix it for you? You can have something to drink as well, if you’re thirsty.’

‘I can pay,’ said Lukas.

‘I’m sure you can,’ said the man, taking a bottle of pop from a little refrigerator. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

Lukas took his pillow out of his rucksack. He was so tired that he could hardly stand up. But he was so proud that he’d proved he could run away.

He lay down on the bed with his head on his own pillow, and looked at the door, which was standing ajar. The man who’d been so kind to him kept looking at him and smiling. He seemed to be leafing through a telephone directory.

Lukas wondered what kind of a room he’d get, and if there would be any toys in it.

That was his last thought before falling asleep.

He noticed nothing at all when Axel and Beatrice came into the little room, and Axel picked him up and carried him out to the car.