I liked it the moment I saw it lying in the window of that dusty little shop. A cat, fashioned from a sliver of fine jade, front paws stretched out, its back sensuously arched.
"Come on," you said, "we'll have a look at it, no harm in looking."
Something happened the moment it touched my hand: a small thrill ran through me and I felt the love that had carved and shaped it, revelling in the leafy translucence of the material. Rubbing a finger across the curve of its back, I marvelled at its cool, smooth beauty, its perfect, simple lines. You smiled, cupping my upturned palm in your own to view the treasure more closely. Our eyes met and for a breathless moment time was suspended. I saw every second we had spent together, heard every word we had exchanged with startling clarity. All the falsehoods fell away.
The jade cat became at once a talisman, one that I did not want to relinquish for fear of breaking the sanctity of newly-discovered truth. I leaned impulsively towards you and never will I forget the power of that first kiss. It sent shockwaves of honesty rippling through my body, I felt the same response in you. The jade cat pressed itself into my palm and our love was sealed.
Victorian, the man told us, rather red-faced and flustered by our public show of passion. The Victorians were fond of cats, they represented harmonious domesticity and contentment. There was a kind of delicious irony in discovering the origins of the cat. The good Queen would most definitely not have been amused by our relationship. I wouldn't let him wrap it; that little cat had released us, how could I then bind it ?
We made love for the first time that afternoon. The sun danced around the magnolia-washed walls of your apartment, and the sound of traffic from the streets below floated through the balcony doors, which were flung wide to greet the summer air.
It would be easy to say that everything was perfect from that moment on, easy, but not truthful. I wanted to believe that the little jade cat had cast a spell upon us, and that as long as it was in my possession nothing would change, we would go on forever in a state of heightened perception. You always said I was childlike in my naivety.
Cats may have represented calm domesticity to the Victorians, but I, alas, was not made that way. Volatile and impatient, conflicts inevitably arose between us, usually instigated by some aspect of my behaviour. You quietly stood your ground while I raged and ranted. Calmness always won the day, though usually at a cost to me. I'm not criticising, the structure of our relationship was understood from the very beginning, and I needed your firmness in those early days; it kept me anchored in the real world. I suppose like most couples we had our share of bad times, but we weathered them. Our love held, more subdued, less intense, but it was there, flowing beneath the surface. I knew I could always rely on you, even when I'd done something totally outrageous.
The cat could not spin magic, of course I knew that, but I believe it bound us together, somehow. When things became strained to breaking point, when I feared that I had finally pushed you too far, I would hold it in the palm of my hand, willing it to give me the strength and courage to own, and put right, my mistakes. I can sense you smiling somewhere within yourself. I can hear your voice telling me that the strength came from my inner self and not from an inanimate object, still...
As you know, I was not always faithful to you, not in the beginning, not once the first flames of passion had cooled. I was too immature to see this diminution as a natural development in any relationship. I craved the high excitement of initial attraction and sought shallow diversions, while knowing that I could not bear to lose the loving stability that you had brought to my life. I never really tried to conceal anything from you, perhaps it was a way of testing your love for me ? And I never lied, not from a desire to humiliate you or because I was insensitive to your feelings, but because I respected your intelligence. I knew at an instinctive level that lies, even more than my selfish infidelities, would be intolerable to you.
You never condemned; oh you punished me, but you never condemned. You made me realise that I acted as I did because of a lack of confidence and belief in myself, the insecurities of my past shadowing my life. You knew my mind almost as intimately as you know my body. You made me understand why I felt the need to continually test my sexual attraction and court attention. And, although you always forgave me, you made me see that my actions damaged both of us. "Consequences, all actions have consequences," you said, and that the pains of one's past were not to be used as an excuse for hurting others.
With your guidance, I grew to appreciate that the emotions and the intellect are separate units, they act independently of each other. Understanding something at an intellectual level doesn't necessarily negate the pain that is felt in the emotional part of the psyche. Such knowledge allowed me to finally grasp how deeply I hurt you with my foolish flirtations. Deeply ashamed, I held my talisman and allowed it to transport me back to that moment in the shop, when you awakened me to who I really was; a far more precious gift than even my beloved jade cat.
You too had a moment of confession, do you remember ? Of course you do. Oh my love, I thought the world would end that day. I wanted it to end, I demanded that it should end. "A brief affair," you said, arms folded, daring me to interrupt, to make a scene. Of course I didn't disappoint; scenes were always my speciality, you always said I could create a scene far better than Alfred Hitchcock.
When it was over and I was in a more receptive and chastened mood, you calmly told me that it had been a brief experiment, provoked by and following in the wake of some indiscretion of mine. You took my hands in yours, kneeling before me like a supplicant as I wept. "Sex is not love," you said; in asking me to accept this for you, you implicitly accepted it too. I could hardly deny the truth of that, although I wanted to. You traced a finger down my face, saying softly: "What you and I feel for each other goes beyond the physical and that is where real love lies." I think I finally grew up that day.
The need for physical discipline lessened as the years passed by. Age, as well as your guidance and reassurance, calmed me. I can sense you smiling again. Me, grown wise, who would have thought it ? There is nothing like age's vicissitude to tame desire, it becomes almost a sin to delight in sensuality once a certain age is reached. The truth is, you love me as much as I love you and that's all that matters now. All else is water that has flowed to the sea.
Why am I talking like this, about things you already know ? As if... Never mind, I need to talk.
I have it here, our pet... alright... my pet, the jade cat. It lies stretched in the palm of my hand. Hard to believe that over forty years have passed since you first placed it there.
When you first became ill, when the dread word was spoken, I did not pray. I lost that gift many years ago. I simply held this creature in my hand and willed it to make you well. It had awakened in us the realisation that our friendship was so much more, it would not allow us to be parted. It would work its magic and heal you, and for a while it did, or so I believed.
I know that to be false now and that the cat has no power to cure you. I'm smiling now, intellect and emotion are vying with each other. My mind is creating words that my emotions are refusing to accept. Deep down, I still hope for magic to be wrought. "Alan, Alan," I can almost hear the amusement in your voice, the teasing note. I miss your teasing... your indulgence of my many foibles.
She'll be coming soon, the nurse with her disapproving looks and busy youthfulness, to hurry me away, to remind me that the bell has rung and visiting is over. If you and I were other than who we are, if we accommodated the rules of convention, she would afford us more respect, more time together, but we have no marriage lines, no legal approval to make me acceptable after hours... Here she comes; I'll lift my coat from your bed to show I am obedient to time's call. I'll see you tomorrow and I promise to talk less if you promise to say at least one word, if only my name, to show that I still exist somewhere within your consciousness.
* * *
Well, it's all over, and still I'm talking, forgive me. I'm not ready to let you go yet. The nurse was kind in the end. I misjudged her, deeming her uncertainty and inexperience to be indifference; age's prejudice in reverse. I had just reached the end of the corridor when she called out, telling me to hurry back, that you had asked for me by name. Thank you for that, and for telling me one last time that you loved me.
That last kiss, like our first, will remain with me forever. Our friend is still here, my feline fetish, and yes, part of me believed right up until the moment you died that magic would prevail. I'm not bitter or disillusioned; why should I be ? You and I had forty years together, and thanks to your love, your guidance and discipline, I will go on. I will manage to live a life, though without you it will be less of a life.
I will take comfort from my talisman. This little trinket will always be special to me, but it has no intrinsic power, I acknowledge that. Its magic lies in what it means to me, in the power of association. Whenever I look at it, or hold it, you are with me. It is a physical reminder of a summer's day, a precious moment in time. It holds memory and that is where immortality lies – in memory. As long as I live, you will be a part of me. I hold you within my mind, just as I hold our friend in the palm of my hand.
My dear David, your essence will remain as tangible to me as fine green jade.
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