How Souls Find Warmth

Victor Randolph lifted the collar of his crisp white shirt and barked, Nora, the tie! He snatched the silk strip from his wifes hand, fixed her with a sharp stare and demanded, Wheres the one I brought back from London? Ive a meeting with the director this afternoon. Nora, without a word, found the requested tie and handed it over.

Victor muttered, Is it not enough to knot it properly? and paused, his chin lifted, as she tied the knot in his favourite style. He glanced at his reflection, smoothed the knot with a huff, and gave Nora a patronising look, as if to say, Youll never do it right.

Whats this? I dont want the bacon. Bring coffee and toast, he ordered from his seat at the kitchen table. The coffees gone cold! You cant do anything right! irritation seeped from every syllable.

Just then his fiveyearold granddaughter, Ethel, slipped in the doorway. She had arrived the previous day with her mother for a weeks stay. Leaning against the frame, she watched her grandfather, judging his antics with the keen eye of a child.

Come here, dear, Victor cooed, reaching out. He settled her on his knee and whispered something soft, hoping she would snuggle close, laugh, and hug him. Instead, the little girl looked up and said, Granddad, why do you speak to me that way? Only kind people speak like that.

Am I not kind? Victor asked, puzzled.

No, Ethel replied, placing a tiny hand on his chest. Its cold here. She slipped from his lap, trotted to Nora, and planted a kiss on her cheek, Good morning, Gran.

The short honk of a car outside broke Victors reverie; his driver waited at the entrance. Hastily, he rose, buttoned his coat, polished his shoesstill gleaming from the night beforeand grabbed his briefcase.

Dont expect me for lunch. I may be delayed this evening, he tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.

Descending, he felt the familiar surge of vigor. He pictured himself as the man who could move mountains with his subordinates hands, who could implement any order without question, who cared not for the troubles of those below him. Yet a small ache lingered, a reminder of Ethels wordsan ache he tried to mask with gruffness.

What a petty thing to worry about, he muttered, passing the landings. Im not rude; Im strict. Without firmness, my firm would crumble.

Between the second and third floors he spotted a twomonthold kitten shivering under the radiator, eyes wide with fear as people hurried past. Theres a pest in the landing, he grumbled. Ill tell the caretaker to get rid of it. No caretaker was in sight, though a fresh coat of snow had dusted the pavement outside.

Lout! he exclaimed, stopping at the entrance, awaiting his driver, Volney. The office! he snapped, then, frowning, slipped into his thoughts.

No one could ever tell me that, he reflected. Theyre scared, but my granddaughter isnt. Shes brave, like a childs honesty. Perhaps she was right about my coldness. He sank into the drivers seat, trying to justify himself. I wasnt always this way; life shaped me. Deep down Im still kind and wish good for everyone. The selfreassurance felt thin.

The roads slick today, he said suddenly to Volney, who raised an eyebrow; their conversation was rarely so familiar.

Its nothingour tires have chains, but pedestrians suffer. The frost is biting. The exchange was brief, but Victor felt a lightness settle in his chest. Looking out the car window, he noted the biting wind and the shivering figures at the bus stop.

Volney, looktheres our girl, Liza, from the supplies department, he pointed to a young woman barely older than his daughter. Lets give her a lift.

As you wish, sir, Volney replied, pulling up beside her. Victor greeted Liza warmly, Come in, dear, before you freeze solid. She smiled, slid into the back seat, her bright eyes and grin lifting his mood further.

What have you tucked away there? he asked.

She produced a tiny kitten from her coat. I was waiting at the stop, and this little one was scurrying, shivering, its paws and ears iced over. No one seemed to care, so I cradled it. After my shift Ill take it home; my son will love it.

How old is your son? Victor inquired.

Hes turning seven tomorrow, just started school, quite independentdoes his own homework, heats his lunch.

Victor recalled the many times that month hed kept Lizas team working overtime for no pressing need. Your son must have been alone then, he thought, feeling a pang of discomfort.

Liza, youre saving a cat; you deserve a day off for that kindness and for your sons birthday, he declared magnanimously. Take the little one home, and Ill sort out any paperwork with your manager. Volney, turn around; well drop her off.

Oh, Mr. Randolph, youre so generous! Liza beamed. You must love cats, too?

Do good people love cats? he chuckled. Not always, but anyone who loves cats is certainly goodhearted.

As they neared the office, Victor asked the driver, Do you have a cat?

Two, Volney replied with a grin. Two mischievous faces.

The workday unfolded in its usual business rhythm. At lunch, Victor stole a moment with his deputy, Harold, and asked, You have grandchildren, dont you?

Two, Harold said, winking. Little rascals!

And a cat at home? Victor probed.

Cant imagine life without her, Harold answered earnestly. Shes the queen of the house.

Victor lifted his eyebrows.

Evening came, and after seeing the driver off, Victor climbed the stairs to his flat. Between the second and third floors, by the radiator, the same kitten curled up on a soft cloth, a bowl of food and a litter tray nearby.

What a pity, such a small creature, ignored by everyone. Victor sighed, picking the kitten up gently. Youll have nannies and a companion here. He cradled the animal, feeling a longforgotten warmth stir within.

Granddad! his granddaughter Ethel gasped, spotting the kitten. I asked Gran to take it, and she said you wouldnt allow it.

Why wouldnt I? Victor smiled, kissing Nora on the cheek. Just give it a wash and a name.

Within the hour, the kittennow christened Whiskersat on Ethels lap, while she leaned against her grandfather, beaming.

Granddad, its no longer cold here, she whispered, patting his chest. It feels warm. Let it stay like this forever, okay?

It will, dear Ethel. As long as theres a cat in the house, warmth will always return. Victor felt, at last, a genuine heat in his heart that had long been buried beneath duty and pride.