Joshua's Holiday

Joshua sat in the grass. He was happy. He was so happy he closed his eyes and started to sing. The more he sang the happier he became and then something happened that never happened before. When Joshua opened his eyes he was sitting on top of his father's head.

Joshua could see everything his father could see. He watched his dad eat breakfast. Josh said, "I'm hungry." His dad threw his banana up into the air. Joshua caught the banana in his mouth; he took three big bites and the banana was gone.

Then Joshua's dad stood up. Joshua stood on his dad's head and was taller than anyone. Joshua's dad went to work and everyone looked up and said Hello to Joshua.

Joshua was so happy that he danced on his father's head. He jumped up and did a handstand. He balanced himself on one foot. He balanced himself on one hand.

Joshua wanted more space to run and then something happened -- he jumped from his father's head onto the head of the man standing next to his dad. This made the man happy. Joshua looked at the people on the street; if he ran on top of their heads he could run all the way around the block. Joshua ran and every person whose head he touched remembered what it was like to run fast and far. All the people on the street were singing: Run Joshua run.

Then Miranda jumped up and stood on her mother's head. Soon all the children were running on the heads of the adults. That day New York City had its biggest celebration: everywhere adults where singing and everywhere children where running and under all the children there where adults who loved them.

The Mayor of the city, who was also named Joshua, proclaimed that whenever children stood on the heads of adults it would be a holiday called imagination and whenever this holiday arrived children could do whatever they liked.

Stray Cats

There is a relentless knock on my door. It's Melanie the neighbor in Apartment 4F. She talks without pause. She has been attacked. Wounded. I try to get the details; she is almost hysterical. I fear if I interrupt her she may burst. My cat was in the hall. The cat attacked her. Melanie says she has been scratched. She shows me a small almost circular scabbed-over abrasion approximately the size of a pencil eraser head.

I ask, "When did this happen."

She says, "Just now."

I take a long pause. I say, "Melanie do you realize that Ashley has been declawed."

She leans forward her voice deepens. "Just keep it in your apartment."

Later that week I received an official call from Melanie, who is president of our co-op board. Our annual shareholder meeting is usually postponed for several months because it is so difficult to get everyone together. Melanie has been able to get an emergency meeting together in a few days.

When I arrive at the meeting almost all the neighbors are there. Melanie introduces the purpose of the meeting. "The cat is a menace to the building and should be evicted." She asks Bill to testify.

Bill says, "I was leaving my apartment and Ashley was in the hallway when I opened my door she was staring right at me. It was as if she was saying, Get back inside." Several neighbors nod in agreement.

Melanie gives her impression of the cat: like an animal in the wild ready to pounce like you see on a nature show.

Connie tells of the two times she saw Ashley in the hail.

Linda is sitting quietly, her hand bandaged.

Amy is also very quiet.

They call for a vote.

Bill, Melanie, and Connie vote to evict the cat.

Linda, Amy, and I vote to allow her to stay. Everyone acknowledges that the doctors who rent office space in the building would not vote to evict Ashley and so it is over.

I promise to keep Ashley in the apartment at all times.

Linda and Amy where prepared to vote to evict Ashley until a few hours before the meeting when Amy's cat scratched Linda. Amy's and Linda's cats have claws and the cats occasionally sneak out into the hallways. Linda's swollen hand forced them to acknowledge that my declawed cat was not the real threat.

Melanie's behavior reminded me of the crazy ladies that lived in the neighborhood where I grew up. A crazy lady would talk until she worked herself into a trance. Then she would find someone to intimidate. She would put the evil eye on them and go into a rage.

When I was a child after I experienced this bizarre behavior I wondered if the stories of people being possessed by demons were true. I wonder what possessed Melanie. Melanie looks nothing like the crazy ladies from my neighborhood. She is a thin red headed well-dressed southern woman in her late thirties.

I am in my late twenties.

Fortunately I had a friend who helped me. His name is Streeter. Two months before Melanie's "the cat attacked me" story Streeter was hospitalized due to a car accident. When they released him, he was homeless. I invited him to live with me.

Streeter is a rugged, muscular, black man with a deep raspy voice. He could menace a person or make them laugh. For the past eight years he was living in the subway tunnels.