met the Cheshire Cat in Eilat and he called himself Avi. Oh, how I thought I could have shared his wobbling raft all the way down stream, but something only had me sitting up there for a few painful moments toking the incense and speaking the local gibberish. He was truly a hilarious old cat and the tips of his dredlocks were bleached blond by the sun (in jet black hair, this was a feat of no small time expenditure). Yes, he wore his hair in dreds -short and to the point. His clothing, conceived in height of traveller fashion, said: "I'm comfortable. Now Fuck off."

You never knew what he was scoring at the expense of your nerves; that tyrant behind prescription sunglasses. His smile is left unsaid.

In the Peace Cafe travellers' bar, his paws flying, his sixth cat sense antennas perked, the fruits of his prowl led him to me.

"How nice you look." he hissed.

"Oh my, what a smell you have. You smell so musky, and to what do I owe the pleasure?" he continued.

Goodness, that cat was slick, his words groomed and garbed to perfection, the guise of an israeli accent finishing them off. Eurythmics videos continued to be cast upon the far wall. Another beer for both of us, only to distract us from the rancid comments of the fat Peace Frog himself in the wheelchair behind the bar. Another beer for me, only to see my lips in action. One leg dropped off the wall and began to swing. My arms loosed, my fate noosed, and the night started to take shape.

"We can partake in the mighty Buddha? Eshta-Eshta." he giggled.

I could only manage an echo and a nod,

"Eshta-Eshta Roy."

He pointed over yonder. I waved goodbye to those who had no responsibility for me, all the time thinking:

"A wink is the same as nudge to a blind bat....know what I mean? Know what I mean?"

Down alleys and through iron doors I followed him. Into his boss's office we stumbled; the fruits of the pints of the past. The office, a street front devil equipped with a couch, served as our den. He pulled a beautifully sculpted palo of incense out of the multicolored bedouin pouch around his waist.We partook, right then and there.

The Cheshire Cat laughed and joked and apologized for his English. He laughed and joked and poked fun at a certain people from Haifa and their tendency to tilt their heads and squint their eyes. I noticed that he was intermittently guilty of the same. So we laughed and joked, laughed and smoked, All the while the plan, orchestrated in his head and dancing around in mine, evolved, mutated, sang:

"Maybe this next joint will put over the edge little girl. I want to get sleazy little girl.......You like?"

We continued to partake. It seemed the night might have been endless, if I hadn't felt a sacrilegious pang of sorts; as if I were being lured to other gods. It was more like a premonition, a sharp-edged delusion, a sardonic laugh in my mind's eye, that brought me to the doubting. My thoughts, focused on the candle and smoking mosquito coil, went beyond that cat's meows - only to be cut short by yet another palo.

The smoke crashed, the air became thick, and before I could blink, make a stink, or jingle the bell around my ankle, that cat was sucking my face and give me stubble burn. I stiffened only to witness the sinister glint to his face as he leapt on with cat style. He leapt confidently and he would have done well, had it not been for my knee, strategically placed to avoid hip contact.

Well that cat persisted and I resisted. So we left that lair, Laundry Service and Plumbing Inc.. We exchanged paws and I swear he hissed as he slunk away. He hissed and grumbled, I can only guess because of his apparent waste of his herbal aphrodisiac.

Two months later, I encountered the Cheshire cat, who now called himself Ishmael, in the same travellers' bar in Eilat. David Bowie videos played on the far wall. I recognized his face and features when he managed to detach himself from a certain bird's ear lobe. We exchanged subtle, acknowledging glances as he turned to his latest bird and said how he loved the way she flipped her frizzy hair - spicy and sassy like. He added that she was jewel as he coughed up a lung due to a certain Shisha special.

© Trincoll Journal, 1995.