One day Betsy brought in a kitten and insisted that Mr. Milby take it. He was reluctant but finally agreed. On his walk home he put the kitten in his coat pocket; it's head poking out looking at everything with an occasional little "mew." He stopped by a small grocery store and picked up a bag of groceries for himself and some food and kitty litter for the kitten. He'd never had a cat before but after a short time they became best friends. He never named the cat; just called it "cat." The cat would always greet him at the door to his small apartment when he came home from work. The cat was a small blessing for Jason Milby. At least someone cared about him and he had someone to care for. After a small dinner, cat would curl up on his lap while he read one of his favorite books, usually an adventure novel. Jason Milby would get lost in these books. He imagined himself in some far away jungle hacking away through the the underbrush with his machete or sailing to exotic ports on a three masted ship visiting beautiful deserted islands. But this was not to be, as Jason Milby was in his small apartment with his cat in his lap waiting for another day to pass.
Mr. Milby always took the same route to and from work. He had done this for so many years he often thought to himself he could do it blindfolded, except of course for the intersections with the cars whizzing by. So Jason Milby is on his way home from work with a stop at the small store for a frozen dinner and maybe a treat for cat. He rarely cooked a dinner; just bought things that could be heated up; frozen pizza, canned stew, or soup.
He was almost to the store when he saw a big commotion ahead. Firetrucks, ambulance and police cars. The whole area was blocked off with yellow caution tape. He was directed to use an alternate route by a policeman. There had been a bad accident and no one could enter the area.
Now all the years Mr. Milby lived in this city he had never walked on this other street. He was so close to the market and then just another block to his apartment. He kept looking back over his shoulder at his familiar surroundings wishing he could just go the way he always did.
It was a warm afternoon so he stopped to take off his coat and carry his hat. He even rolled up his shirt sleeves; something he hadn't done since he was a kid. He starts walking and sees an attractive young woman dressed all in white walking in the opposite direction. She smiles and says, "Hello there." Mr. Milby, not used to talking to strangers, especially pretty ones, manages to stammer out, "Uh, hello." Strange, he thinks, I don't know that woman. Why would she say hello to me? Just then a small boy runs past and brushes against Milby's pants leg. The boy stops and says, "Sorry Mister." Milby just smiles and waves to the young lad.
The sun is beating down on his thinning hair and reflecting off his glasses. It reminds him of when he was a boy and his grandfather took him fishing ever so often. The sun bearing down as they sit beside a clear cool mountain lake. Fishing pole in hand; hoping for an interested trout. His grandpa always looked like he hadn't shaved in a week. White stubble covering his lined face with his ever present pipe clenched between his teeth. The smell of the cherry flavored tobacco mixed with scent of the pine trees.
He makes a turn at the corner and is relieved as he's getting closer to home. Half way down the block he spots a small butcher shop. He enters, hoping he can find something for cat and himself. He walks by all the glass cases with steaks, chicken, and pork. He notices, at the very back of the store, a section for fish. The butcher says, "The trout is fresh; just came in today and I'll sell it to you at half price." Mr. Milby picks out a nice big one to share with cat. The butcher wraps it up and wishes him a good day. Jason Milby thinks, my, people sure are friendly around here.
Jason Milby is now walking with a little spring in his step. He's going to have trout for dinner, something he hasn't done in so long he cannot remember when was the last time. He finally makes it to the apartment building and climbs the stairs. Sure enough, cat is waiting at the door and smells the fish instantly. Mr. Milby and cat are excited; fresh trout stuffed with chopped onion and fried in butter. This is a special occasion so Milby digs through the closet to find an old radio that he hasn't played in years, plugs it in and it still works. Jason Milby gets busy chopping the onion and getting out a suitable pan. He tunes in a good radio station and finds himself humming along to the music. He is smiling as cat rubs back and forth on his shins hoping he'll drop something to the floor. The fish starts to sizzle and pop in the pan.
Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Who could that be? He rarely has visitors. Opening the door it turns out to be the young couple who live down the hall. "Um, excuse me Mr. Milby, but is everything alright? We heard music and could smell something cooking." You see, Milby had lived such a quiet existence eating his canned food this was quite out of the ordinary, and certainly no music ever came from this apartment. Milby invites them in, Bill, his wife Karen, and their young boy, Tim. Milby has never had this many people in his apartment before. He scrambles looking for some folding chairs and an old bottle of wine he had saved.
The house guests are seated and Milby explains how he bought the fish at the butcher shop. He turns down the music and Bill and Tim walk into the small kitchen area to look at the trout. It's so big it barely fits in the pan. Bill says, "Man, I haven't been fishing in years, Mr. Milby." Milby replies, "I haven't either and please just call me Jason, or better yet, Jay." Milby pours the wine and finds a soda for Tim in the back of the refrigerator. Milby, the host, invites them to stay for dinner but they decline. Bill asks Milby if he knows of any good fishing spots around the area. Milby tells him of where he went as a boy with his grandfather and it's not too far away. He describes the beauty of the place and the hungry trout that ply the cool clear mountain waters. Bill asks, "Mr. Mil...er I mean Jay, could you show us where this lake is sometime; it sounds like heaven. We could all go together and make a day of it." "I'd be glad to; how about tomorrow?" replies Milby. Bill responds, "But a couple of things, Jay, I smoke a pipe and I don't want it to bother you, and also, don't you have to work tomorrow?" Jason Milby smiles and says, "I'm fine with pipe smoke and I'm calling in sick tomorrow. I'm sick of work and the only cure is to go fishing."
The next morning the four of them pile into Bill's car and head for the lake. Tim sings a song he learned in school and pretty soon they're all singing. They arrive at the lake and it's just as Milby remembered it. Bill lit his pipe and sure enough, it was cherry flavored tobacco. The water is like glass, reflecting the mirror image of the trees and the mountains which still had snow on the very top. Karen had packed a picnic lunch which they enjoyed as the sun shined down. The water was occasionally disrupted by a trout leaping catch an insect. They all caught a fish or two, but Tim caught the biggest. It was a wonderful day. One they would repeat many times.
If Jay hadn't taken that detour that day to the other street he never would've met his new friends. He never did go back to his job. He moved out of the city and into a cabin close to the lake. But then again, maybe he was the one in that bad accident by the store and this was all a dream. Either way, he's in heaven. It's said you can still see old Jay walking along the shore of the lake, fishing pole in hand, with cat following close behind.
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