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J AD EL HAGE marked Barstow at the beginning of the 20th century. Her thin fingers, like dry carobs, would orchestrate her scratchy drawl: “And this is Frederick Harvey and his wife Barbara. She brought us beautiful clothes and hats from Eastern Europe. It was Barbara who pulled Freddy’s beard one day and demanded he include me among the girls working at La Casa’s hall. ‘We want some colour among those palefaces!’ she told him. Oh yes, those were the days.We received travellers from everywhere, accommodated them, organized balls and banquets for them, just like in Vienna, my dear.” Poor Grandma, thought Marjory. The Casa was the only place where she’d been treated as equal with the white folks. No wonder she wanted mum and her friends to save it. Marjory noticed a strange shadow on the concrete platform. She looked up: “Oh my God! A cat!” she cried. “What are you doing up there? Come down!” The cat was black with golden eyes. It remained still, trapped between the power lines. Marjory hurried to the ticket booth: “Wendy!” Big Wendy looked up. “Yeah?” “Look! Out there! A cat’s got stuck at the top of the power pole!” “A cat up the pole?” “Come and see for yourself!” “I guess I better call the sheriff, huh?” “Call the Fire Department.” Wendy gave Marje a weary look, picked up the phone and dialled. She told them what was going on, then dropped the receiver with obvious revulsion: “They said it’s not their job anymore. They said to call the animal welfare people.” She dialled again. “Hey guys, this is the station. We got an emergency here. A cat stuck up the pole. We gotta get it down before the next train.” “No can do. The boss is out of town today,” said the man at the other end. “Don’t give me any of that shit. This is a matter of life or death. I need help now.” “Sorry. The boss is out of town today.” “Then give me the boss’s boss!” “Sorry, we don’t have a boss’s boss!” “Sorry, my ass!”Wendy banged down the receiver and dialled again, her face like thunder. “Hello, Sheriff? This is the station.We got a cat 78 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES

J AD EL HAGE in danger. No, here at the station.Yeah, she climbed up the pole and got stuck between the cables. The fire department refused to help, ditto that horse shit animal society – they’re out of town. I got a train coming in a few minutes.What? Okay.” She hung up, picked up another phone and called the train driver, asking him to stop outside the station. Marjory stood by helplessly, fearing the sheriff would use his gun to solve the problem. She muffled a scream with the palm of her hand.Then it dawned on her that she might end up missing her annual trip to her Grandma’s. “Shit.” she muttered to herself, “this is not happening.” Word must have got around. Gradually, a curious crowd gathered along the tracks. Marjory saw a well-known drug-dealer-street-hustler weaving gleefully among the crowd.Then an ice-cream van rang its bell behind a line of cars on the bridge.Then the sheriff’s car overtook the lot, its siren deafening. Just like in the movies, thought Marjory. The sheriff parked his car sideways across the platform and walked through the crowd to the “crime scene”. He squinted, openmouthed, at the cat up the pole. Marjory held her breath.Wendy appeared, pointing at the crowd and yelling at the sheriff: “Don’t people work in your city anymore?” The sheriff ignored her jibe and yelled back: “Just get me a stick, a long one.” Wendy rolled her gargantuan thighs to the maintenance room. She turned over the rusty carts, the buckets, the lamps and finally fished out a long, hooked pole. “You won’t hit her with it,” Marjory pleaded to the sheriff. But he ignored her, grabbed the hook from Wendy and slammed it fiercely against the pole. The cat arched its back and hissed. The crowd cheered him on: “Come on Sheriff, harder!” He hit the pole again at a higher spot. A resentful hiss from the cat. More cheers from the crowd. At his third attempt, the cat didn’t bother to react. “Come down, you bitch!” the sheriff shouted, slamming the pole with all his force.The cat looked away condescendingly, then a huge flock of pigeon suddenly took flight and filled the sky. Startled, the sheriff fell back onto the platform.The nearest bystanders tried to help him up, but his back had given out. His face grew pasty white, his mouth drooped. Panic filled his eyes. Wendy lumbered off to call an ambulance. When finally it arrived, Marjory saw her mother hurrying to her through the crowd, a cunning smile on her face. “Cheer up, Marje.This black cat might be lucky for us. Come with BANIPAL 43 – SPRING 2012 79

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J AD EL HAGE

marked Barstow at the beginning of the 20th century. Her thin fingers, like dry carobs, would orchestrate her scratchy drawl: “And this is Frederick Harvey and his wife Barbara. She brought us beautiful clothes and hats from Eastern Europe. It was Barbara who pulled Freddy’s beard one day and demanded he include me among the girls working at La Casa’s hall. ‘We want some colour among those palefaces!’ she told him. Oh yes, those were the days.We received travellers from everywhere, accommodated them, organized balls and banquets for them, just like in Vienna, my dear.” Poor Grandma, thought Marjory. The Casa was the only place where she’d been treated as equal with the white folks. No wonder she wanted mum and her friends to save it. Marjory noticed a strange shadow on the concrete platform. She looked up: “Oh my God! A cat!” she cried. “What are you doing up there? Come down!”

The cat was black with golden eyes. It remained still, trapped between the power lines. Marjory hurried to the ticket booth: “Wendy!”

Big Wendy looked up. “Yeah?” “Look! Out there! A cat’s got stuck at the top of the power pole!” “A cat up the pole?” “Come and see for yourself!” “I guess I better call the sheriff, huh?” “Call the Fire Department.” Wendy gave Marje a weary look, picked up the phone and dialled. She told them what was going on, then dropped the receiver with obvious revulsion: “They said it’s not their job anymore. They said to call the animal welfare people.” She dialled again. “Hey guys, this is the station. We got an emergency here. A cat stuck up the pole. We gotta get it down before the next train.”

“No can do. The boss is out of town today,” said the man at the other end.

“Don’t give me any of that shit. This is a matter of life or death. I need help now.”

“Sorry. The boss is out of town today.” “Then give me the boss’s boss!” “Sorry, we don’t have a boss’s boss!” “Sorry, my ass!”Wendy banged down the receiver and dialled again, her face like thunder. “Hello, Sheriff? This is the station.We got a cat

78 BANIPAL 43 – CELEBRATING DENYS JOHNSON-DAVIES

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