Fred wasnt hated at the depot, he was simply skirted. A sensible chap, an oldschool lorry driver, diligent to a fault, yet utterly unsociable. Nobody wanted to sit beside him, and that pleased him. One foreman gave him a dismissive wave, and the other longhaul men nicknamed him Gloomy. The moniker stuck; they called him that even in his face, while his own name drifted in and out of memory.
The run that day was routine: a familiar route, a standard pallet of bricks. Steer straight, eyes on the road, the radio chirped. Yet at the very edge of the carriageway something thin and alive slithered through the grass. He intended to roll past, wary of any beast, but a sudden stab of pity seized his chest and he eased the rig to a halt, drawn to the helpless creature.
A massive striped tomcat hissed, its breath ragged, as if bargaining its life for a penny. They say cats have nine lives; this one seemed to have lost several, its fur matted with blood, a paw twisted in agony.
How did you get yourself into this, you wretched whiskerhead? Fred asked, leaning over the animal.
The cat bared its teeth and croaked a low meow, as if saying help was unnecessary and that Fred should simply keep driving.
I get it, prideful one, Fred muttered, the cat reminding him of the beloved old tabby his mother kept when he was a lada cat that would curl up on the stove while his mum sang lullabies. That cat was gone, but the memory lingered.
Im no feline surgeon, but I see you cant just leave that there. Theres no shelter nearby, so let me ferry you to the vet, Fred said.
He lifted the hissing beast gently and tucked it onto the cabs back seat. The cat struggled briefly, then settled, as if accepting the worst might yet be better.
Diverting from the main haul, Fred turned into a tiny market town in the Midlands and found a veterinary surgery. The dourlooking vet, a silverhaired gentleman, glanced at the bedraggled cat and, without a queue, ushered them inside.
Lucky you, little fellow, the vet announced. Well clean you up, apply a plasterand youll be back on the road.
Whats my route now? the driver protested. I have a delivery!
None of us can take him, the vet shrugged. Theres no kennel, and he isnt a kitten, look how robust he is!
The cat stared from one side of the room to the other, emerald eyes boring into Freds soul, and a strange remorse rose in him. Was it right to abandon the creature?
Fine, he grumbled, moving toward the corridor.
Two elderly women chattered in the waiting area.
Lucys daughter ran to me again yesterday, hiding from her husband, one whispered.
Poor thing! the other replied sympathetically. Shes all gold, and the man she gotGod help her! They say he beats her
Probably why she never left the house, bruised all over, the first said, nodding toward the reception where a man named Mr. Nicholson was bustling about.
Fred ignored the gossip; he had his own tangled past. A bride once swore shed wait for him, love him till the grave. He never even made it past a month of marriage before the woman slipped away, later marrying someone else. Life, it seemed, loved its ironies.
The cats yours now, the vet said, handing over the limp animal. If it mends like a dogs, youll be back in three weeks for a plaster removal.
Cheers, Fred muttered, cradling the cat and stepping out.
He had no idea what to do with this unexpected gift. Time was already ticking; his schedule was already offtrack. First, the freight had to be delivered; the rest could wait.
He secured the cat on the cabs sleeper berth and set off again.
A few miles later, by the roadside, two figures emerged: a desperate woman waving frantically, a small girl clinging to her skirt.
Sorry, I dont take passengers! Fred called out, true to his rule.
Meow! came a sharp cry from behind.
Awake, are you? Fred asked, halfamused. What do you want?
Meow! the cat repeated, insistent.
Maybe you need a lift? Fred mused. Good thing you shouted, or Id have left you in the dust.
He pulled over and set the cat on the grass. Instantly the animal arched its back and flicked its tail, confirming Freds hunch.
Hey! Where are you going? a voice called as the woman and child sprinted toward him.
He barely had time to react before the woman, breathless, lunged forward, dragging the girl by the hand.
Please, dear, give us a lift. Its only about thirty miles, she pleaded, eyes glistening with tears.
The girl stared at him, damp cheeks, as if shed been weeping for hours.
Im not a taxi driver, Im a longhaul, Fred tried to explain. Take the coach, itll get you there.
We missed our only run. Please, just a short rideGod will bless you for it! the woman begged.
The cat, having finished its inspection, limped forward, brushed against the girls leg. She knelt, stroked it, and the cat purred.
Let me drive you, and you can keep the cat? Fred offered, gesturing to the animal.
Tears streamed down the womans cheeks.
Wed love that. I work at the vet, but we have nowhere to stay. My aunt lives in the next townmaybe shell take us, she explained.
What happened to you? Fred asked, watching the girl smooth the cats fur.
The girl, a sweettempered little thing with golden curls, looked frightened but tender. The cat, meanwhile, soaked up every caress.
Freds mind flickered back to the vets office. The womans name sounded familiarEvelyn, perhaps? Hed heard a rumor about a girl named Poppy whose husband was a troublemaker. He kept his thoughts to himself, just nodding.
Alright, Ill take you, he said.
Come on, Poppy! the woman cheered, using the girls nickname.
Fred lifted the cat back into the cab, and the tiny procession shuffled into the vehicle. The girl settled on the rear seat, the woman squeezed into the passenger side.
Ill pay, you have my word, the woman promised, but Fred merely grunted, Just go.
The cat likes you, so you must be decent folk. Give the cat a thankyou later, he added.
Thank you, cat! the woman whispered, then asked, Whats his name?
The cats just cat, Fred shrugged. We just met him on the road.
Youre a good soul! she exclaimed. And you are?
Fred, he grunted.
Im Evelyn, and this is my daughter Poppy, the woman replied.
Will your aunt take us? Fred asked, halfamused.
Shell try, Evelyn sighed. No phone my husband left, shattered everything.
Fred opened the glove compartment, handed her his battered mobile.
She whispered something to an unseen aunt, the words husband, ran away and cat echoing in the cab.
Well try to look after the cat, she said apologetically.
Poppy hiccupped softly. Cat, come visit us, she cooed. Youre a good one!
Fred chuckled. Weve already made a deal with the cat, he muttered.
The cats very gentle, I assure you, Evelyn fussed.
Resigned that the cat could not be rehomed, Fred drove the strangers to the address she gave, dropped them off at a modest cottage, and watched as Poppy clung to the cat, kissing its whiskered nose. Then, suddenly, she leapt into Freds arms, hugging him tightly.
Poppy, thats not proper! Evelyn gasped.
Shes missing a father, thats why she clings, the aunt muttered.
Fred felt his heart tighten. He had once promised himself a quiet life with a loving wife and children, yet this tiny, curlhaired girl tugged at a different part of him.
Uncle, will you come visit us? Poppy asked, eyes wide as saucers. With the cat?
Ill try, Fred replied, unable to refuse.
She ran inside, and Fred returned to his lorry, the images of the frightened mother and her brighteyed daughter lingering like a halfremembered dream.
He turned to the cat and asked, Where do men like us come from, so quick to crush the weak? The cat let out a disdainful meow, as if to agree.
Id explain to him why you shouldnt raise a hand on women or children! Fred hissed inwardly.
Meow! the cat answered, promising teeth and claws if needed.
For the first time on the road, Fred felt the cats presence calm his nerves. He spoke of his parents, his army stint, his politics; the cat listened, punctuating with approving mews.
On the shoulder, a broken-down van attracted a crowd of two men. One leapt onto the road, waving frantically.
Looks like someone needs help! Fred called.
No matter how solitary he seemed, the roads unwritten law was clear: aid begets aid.
Whats happening? he asked the frantic driver, opening the vans door.
Two events unfolded at once. The man drew a pistol, and a cometlike tail whizzed past, striking the gunmans cheek.
The cat lunged, claws extended, tearing at the attackers face. The shooter dropped his weapon, flailing. Fred seized the pistol, aimed it at the second thug.
Hands up! he shouted.
Get the cat off me! the first thug screamed, eyes wild. Hell scratch me out!
Enough! Fred barked, as the second thug charged. He rammed the mans jaw, grabbed the cat, and vaulted back into his cab.
Move! he shouted, slamming the accelerator.
He dialed the local police on his handset, reporting the incident. Within half an hour, the constables arrived, cuffed the two crooks, and praised Fred for his bravery.
The lads are known to each other, one officer said. One of them tried to shoot you and the cat together. He claimed he was protecting his heroes.
Me? A hero? Fred scoffed. If I were a hero, Id have been nailed on the spot.
The other bloke has a list of longhaul drivers hes hassled, the officer added. You neednt get your hands dirty any further. Besides, youre already transporting an injured animalyour cat, right?
Fred looked at the cat, which stared back with its steady gaze.
My mate, he said firmly. Hes my codriver.
The lucky you have a partner, the officer smiled. You gave the crook a proper pounding.
Lucky indeed, Fred replied, deadpan.
The tale of the lorry driver and his fearless cat spread through online forums, and motorists would wave as they passed, shouting thanks. With the cat at his side, Fred felt something shift inside himlike winter ice melting, a breath of fresh air.
Three weeks later, the plaster came off. Fred drove into the same little town where hed dropped Evelyn and Poppy, and pushed open the vets door.
Ah, its you, Evelyn said, eyes wide, as if shed just woken from a dream. I dreamed youd come today.
Seems the dreams taken the wheel, Fred answered, unsure what else to say. Are you and Poppy all right?
Yes, she nodded. My aunt takes us, and Ive filed for divorce. She lowered her head, voice barely a whisper.
Good for you, Fred said, then, almost automatically, blurted, Will you come for me?
Evelyns eyes widened, her mouth opened and closed. The cat, perched on the dashboard, let out a demanding meow.
My daughter Evelyn began, voice trembling.
And I have a cat! Fred shouted, adding, Evelyn, Im not great with flowery words, but I know this meeting wasnt by chance. Dont turn me downthink about it. Ill look after you.
Meow! the cat echoed, approving.
Ill think about it, Evelyn promised.
A month later they married, Fred moved to a new job as a driver for a mobile veterinary unit, and the catnow known as RoadCatstill lounged on the wide sofa, watching over Poppy and occasionally sighing, recalling the romance of open highways.
Romance, after all, needs a guardian. Without cats like RoadCat, who would keep the world sane? The hum of the engine, the scent of diesel, the soft purr of a rescued felinethese were the strange, dreamfilled threads that stitched Freds life together.