Shamus Quits

Shamus decided that his job as a gofer at the Marriott was not doing enough to advance his career goals. He had enough in the bank to get by for about six months if he was careful with his money.

On his way out, he saw Sammy the cat climb out of the pool. He took a little towel and held it out invitingly. Sammy walked up to Shamus, and he dried Sammy and fluffed up his fur. Sammy purred, and after Shamus was finished, he nuzzled Shamus's face for a minute. Shamus grinned.

"Ah, Sammy, where do you go after your swim? I have seen you here many times, but never thought about where you go. I will follow you today, if you do not mind."

Sammy purred, and Shamus followed him. All was right with Shamus's world. Sammy had good taste. He walked into the district with upscale shops, the type that had clothing and electronics at prices that he could never imagine paying. Sammy slowed down to let Shamus catch up. "My friend, thank you for slowing down," Shamus said, careless of what any passers by might think of him talking to a cat. "It is almost as if there is something that you want me to see." Sammy turned right off the sidewalk and onto some black and white checkerboard tile. He looked up, and saw an awning, with red lettering. "DELMONICO'S DELICATESSAN." A man with a deep red tan and huge forearms had a tray of hummus that he set down just inside the door. He noticed Shamus, and said, "Is he yours?"

Shamus was surprised by this turn of events. As he was an honest man, he said, "No, sir. He shows up at the Marriott regularly, and I was curious as to where he went after he takes his swim."

The man broke out in a wide grin. "You don't say? Sammy actually swims. That is funny."

"Yeah, I never quite understood it, but it seems harmless, and most of the guests think it is cute. Sammy appears to be a very clean cat."

"I like Sammy, too. He shows up here a couple of times a week, and business has picked up since he started coming here. I don't want to spoil a good thing, so I make sure that we have a plate of hummus ready for him, just in case he comes in."

"I wonder if he has an owner. He has a collar, with a diamond-shaped piece of metal that has 'Sammy' stamped on it, but that is all that I know about him. I will follow him, to see where his home is. My name is Shamus, by the way."

"Shamus, eh? I am Tom. No offense, but I would not have figured you for a Shamus."

"You would have too much trouble with my real first name. I figured that I would pick something that started with 'S' and stick to that."

"Well, good to meet you Shamus. Come in. You are not a vegetarian are you?"

"I have no problems eating meat. I just cannot afford it. I have to make my money stretch."

"I will tell you what. I have some olive salad and rye bread. They are going to go to waste anyway. It's on the house.

"Oh, I could not."

"Oh, yes you will. It is kosher, halal, Health-marked, PETA-approved, you name it. Everyone likes Tom's olive salad. Besides, if you find out anything about where Sammy comes from, I would like to know. You can pay me back that way, if that is what is bothering you."

"Sir, that is very good of you. I will let you know."

Tom went behind the counter, and Shamus looked up. His heart skipped a beat and sank. He saw a woman waiting at the counter. She was the most beautiful woman that Shamus had ever seen, and he knew that she was completely out of his league. She wore a bespoke-tailored charcoal gray professional business suit that also accentuated her curves. She was wearing a tasteful but expensive pearl necklace, and a pair of gold bracelets. She was also from somewhere in South Asia, or maybe Iran, or at least her parents were. Shamus froze and looked away, as he always did when he saw an attractive woman. Better not to get his hopes up.

Tom tapped him on the elbow, and said, "One olive salad and one loaf of rye bread."

Shamus heard a soft alto voice say, "Oh, how cute are you?" He looked up, and thought, "It is not what you are hoping for, Shamus." He forced himself to smile a little when he looked up, and saw the beautiful woman had picked up Sammy, and was looking down at him. Sammy had was nuzzling in the crease between two of the buttons of her dress shirt, and purring contentedly. "You are one lucky cat," thought Shamus. He then looked back toward the counter, aware that he had been staring at her. Tom was also looking down at the counter, surpressing a fit of laughter."

"Excuse me," said the alto voice in a tone that meant business. Shamus thought, "She caught me! Lord, let me apologize and leave, and never come back. He looked up, and he was frozen to the spot. He could not say anything.

The lady said, "Are you the owner of this cat?"

Shamus tried to get some air. He was humiliating himself before a woman again. Tom was not coming to help him. He swallowed.

"Sir, you are going to force me to use a hackneyed phrase, but ... does the cat have your tongue?"

The spell was broken for a minute. Shamus looked away and said, "No, Madam. I do not own Sammy. I am not sure that anyone does. I was going to follow him tonight to see where he stays."

"Good lord. Now she thinks that I am a nut. Following a cat around." He wanted to dart away back home as fast as a deer and get to sleep, but his legs would not move.

"Look at me."

Shamus obeyed.

"First, sir, you are about my age. Please do not call me, Madam. It makes me feel like your mother."

"I am sorry, Ma - , uh."

"Nima. Just call me Nima." She extended her right hand, while still cradling Sammy with her left.

Shamus extended his hand. "I go by Shamus."

Nima shook his hand with a comfortably firm grip, and said, "There is not anything good on television, and I am tired of reading over the spreadsheets from work. I need a break. Do you mind if I tag along?"

"I would be happy to have you come along. Two heads are better than one."

Nima gently placed Sammy on the ground, and then casually neatened the front of her shirt and coat. "At least Sammy did not shed on that nice suit." Tom rang up Nima's purchase - chicken breast and a half kilo of Emmenthaler - and bagged it. He looked in Shamus's direction and gave him a slight nod and a quick wink while making sure that Nima was between he and Shamus.

Sammy then walked out of the restaurant and headed

1. to an even tonier part of town, with stores selling jewelry, real estate, and expensive gadgets.
2. out toward the park.
3. into a lively block of apartments near the university.
4. into a quiet neighborhood of bungalows.
5. into a rougher commercial area.
6. back home.

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