Meetin Mai 1st Lama

Mom Says:

The fight was brutal but brief. No sooner had Agent Octavian got his front paws around Guru’s neck and begun to claw his guts out with this back paws than a high-pitched voice cried out, “Enough!”

Despite himself, Octavian froze, but Guru did not take advantage of the moment, himself also seemingly frozen in space and time. Brother Ian came and lifted Guru off Octavian, who let go his death-hold on the other cat.

The high voice, from behind Octavian, said, “Peace to all present!” and it was clearly an order.

Slowly, Octavian returned to himself from the place of crazed fighting. He sat up and licked his paw and brushed it over the cut beside his eye. With his good, unsquinting eye, he saw a flash of red, coming closer. There was a breath of incense and then he was lifted up. When he opened his eyes and looked at the human who had picked him up, he noticed, first, that his eye had healed and, second, that this human was much younger than anyone he had ever met, which was pretty weird, given that he had, way back when at the animal hospital, known kittees who were only a few months old. Yet the human looked to be at least ten or eleven years.

The young monk excoriated his colleagues in what Octavian presumed was Tibetan or some other equally incomprehensible language. Finally, he switched to English, with a slight British accent that reminded Octavian of M.

“My most fervent apologies, Master Octavian and Master Alexander. My brothers here have clearly overstepped the bounds of wisdom. As our founder would say, ‘Yu kin apolrjyz, or I kin throw yu ovrbordz. Yer choys.’”

From Brother Ian’s arms, Guru said, “S’ry.”

The red-robed monk turned to Brother Ian. “I believe the phrase is ‘your turn.’”

The old man frowned and Guru leaped down and strutted away. “You blame me for the cat’s impetuousness?”

The boy smelled Octavian’s fur (a very cultured thing to do). Then he said, “My son, you know that John Donne would say that ‘no man is an island.’ Our founder would say, ‘Whut? Yu thingkin yu’r a plangk an kin flot alon fer 40 dayz an 40 nigts? Huh. OK! Good luk!’”

Brother Ian bowed his head. “I apologize for letting Guru get ahead of himself.”

“And?”

“And I apologize for getting ahead of myself.”

“Very well. You may leave our presence.”

Hands in sleeves, head bowed, Brother Ian followed Guru out of the shrine’s vestibule.

Lulled by the boy’s exotic scent, Agent Octavian asked, “OK! So whu ar yu? An whatchu all don to mai frendz heer? An whut this forchozn profit bizness?”

The boy petted Octavian and looked with great compassion on the confused Alek, the drugged-out Gatto, and the hyper-vigilant Perro.

“Ah,” he sighed. “That is the $64,000 question, is it not?”