Leora loved to visit Israel, though she wasn’t sure why. She was a writer of sorts, but she had never managed to get anything published. She wrote a lot, and sent things to publishers, magazines—anywhere that hadn’t banned her for too many submissions yet. Her dream was to write ‘the Great American Novel’—which was strange, since she was Canadian, and she felt most at home in Israel. Long ago, she had decided to blame this completely on her neighbor back in Ottawa. She never did learn her name—everyone just called her The Cat Lady. She was old, and not exactly mentally stable. She had no family or friends, just the sea of cats she kept to keep her company. She would often stuff three in a bag and put one on each shoulder, then shamble around town, yelling obscenities and throwing her cats at strangers.
It was because of her that Leora had to get away. She had always blocked her creative juices from flowing, she said. Always gave off bad vibes, she said. Sp she left. Just packed up one day, and went off to actually live full-time in Israel. Now, she felt at peace, and could write her novel.
Leora started one late night, but never got anywhere. There were cats yowling outside, which reminded her all too much of the Cat Lady to be able to concentrate. The other problem was the fact that she was writing a Great American Novel, but she knew nothing of the subject. Months passed like this, and she still hadn’t written a word.
One day while in a park, she saw some American tourists. Sparked with an idea that was close to madness, she followed them back to their hotel, and stood outside their window all night. Hiding in a bush when they left the next morning, she hurriedly jotted down notes and continued in her quest for American knowledge. She followed the little group all day. Through the park, into a restaurant, through three art galleries and finally to a movie theater. She sat right behind them and wrote down every word they said.
Suddenly an obscenity was screeched, and a four-footed feline was launched towards the big screen. Everyone in the cinema turned to stare at The Cat Lady, rambling incoherently and sitting in the back, petting a scrawny little cat rather violently. Leora’s mouth dropped open in shock. Here! A movie theater in Israel, of all places! She was sure now. This crazy old woman was after her. She was about to get up and confront her, when the group of American test subjects promptly got up and headed for the theater exit.
Leora dashed after the tourists, trying to put the old Cat Lady out of her mind. She followed the Americans for the rest of the day, and stood outside their window as before. Around midnight, while she was watching and motionless, an old lady walked up to her and handed her a small kitten. Without really thinking, Leora chuckled the mewing animal at the window. There was a soft, almost fluffy-sounding thwak as it hit, and Leora turned to the woman beside her in horror at what she’s just mindlessly done. It was the crazy old Cat Lady, and she was grinning, yellowed, crooked teeth glimmering at the failed writer in an eerily invitingly way. The old woman held up another cat for Leora, and purring orange tabby, but she said nothing. Leora took the cat, as if on auto-pilot, and threw it at the window just as one of the Americans poked his head out of the window to see what was going on. The cat clung to his face, and he screamed for mercy before falling from the window and falling in a crumpled mess on the pavement.
Leora had never felt so good. She had found her calling. She smiled to The Cat Lady, and the new, odd pair walked away together, screaming obscenities and throwing cats at everyone they saw.