Story 134: Reza Shadey and the Roman Holiday
Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones. Let me tell you a tale about a very grand cat who decided that the neighbourhood had become a little too small for his genius, and that it was time for a grand escape!
It was a gloomy Tuesday in Catford, and Reza Shadey was feeling the heat. Not from the sun — oh no, it was pouring with rain — but from the glaring eyes of his neighbours.
Reza sat on the garden wall, listing his problems on his paws. "One", he muttered, "That flour explosion at Patel's Posh Pastries. Mr Patel still chases me with a broom if I even look at a croissant."
"Two", he continued, flicking his tail, "The 'GoFundReza' scandal. I still owe Mrs Higgins for that lobster."
"And three... well, Larry the Cat sent me a very official letter from Downing Street telling me to 'stay out of politics'. The cheek!"
Even his friends were giving him the cold shoulder. Penelope was busy writing apology notes to the neighbours for him. Ginger Tom was still cleaning flour out of his ears from the bakery incident. And Tiger asked, "Are you a villain now, Reza? Do you need a cape?"
Reza decided then and there. "This environment is stifling my creativity", he declared. "I need a sabbatical. A grand tour! Somewhere they appreciate a cat of my stature."
He peered over the fence into the Patels' garden. The bakery van was being loaded. Mrs Patel was carrying a huge, fancy box. "Careful with this one!" she called out. "It's the special order for the International Wedding in Rome! It goes straight to the airport tonight!"
Rome! Reza's ears perked up. He pictured himself lounging on a marble pillar, being fed spaghetti by gladiators. "Rome..." he purred. "The Eternal City. Finally, a place that sounds as important as I am."
He watched as Mr Patel left the van doors open for just a second. The big box was sitting there. It had a sticker on it: FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE.
Reza smirked. "Fragile? That clearly means 'Reserved for Very Important Persian'. It is a sign!" Without a backward glance at Mrs Higgins's house, Reza leaped! He landed softly in the van, used a claw to wiggle the box lid open, and squeezed inside.
It was a tight fit. He was wedged between a giant fruitcake and a stack of biscotti. "A bit cramped", Reza sniffed, curling his tail around a bag of sugared almonds. "But I suppose first-class travel always feels snug."
The journey was long. There was bumping. There was the roar of an engine. There was the whoosh of an aeroplane. Reza ate three biscotti and fell asleep, dreaming of wearing a toga.
When the box finally opened, Reza was ready for his grand entrance. He burst out of the cardboard! "BEHOLD! I HAVE ARRIVED!" he yowled.
He wasn't in a palace. He was in a bustling, sunny piazza in Rome! People were shouting "Ciao!" Scooters were buzzing like angry wasps. And the smell... oh, the smell! Pizza, garlic, and hot stones.
A waiter dropped a tray of drinks in surprise. "Mamma mia! Un gatto!"
Reza shook the biscuit crumbs from his fur and puffed out his chest. He looked up. Looming above him were huge, broken stone columns. "Excellent", he thought. "Ruins. Just like I left my reputation in Catford. I shall fit right in."
He strutted towards the ruins, expecting the local cats to bow. Instead, he found a group of tough-looking Roman street cats lounging on a fallen statue. They didn't look impressed. One of them, a scarred tabby eating a piece of prosciutto, just stared at him.
Reza cleared his throat. "Ahem. I am Reza Shadey. Political Exile. Visionary. You may call me... Il Magnifico."
The tabby swallowed his ham and yawned. "You look like you fell out of a cake box, amico", he meowed in a rough voice.
Reza narrowed his eyes. This was going to be harder than he thought. But as the warm Italian sun hit his back, he decided he didn't care. He was in Rome! No Shah Fluffybutt. No Larry. Just ancient stones and endless possibilities.
"Rome wasn't built in a day", Reza whispered to himself, stealing a piece of dropped mozzarella. "But I shall certainly try to conquer it by lunchtime."
A very important message from Mrs Higgins: Reza was very lucky, but climbing into boxes or vans is extremely dangerous! You could get lost or hurt. Never hide in places where people can't see you!
Night night. Sleep tight.