Pet King

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

San Francisco, United States.

The Matthew Davis Cancer Research Foundation was located in an ordinary, three-story office building in a suburb. The building was old, and its gray color looked out of fashion. The sign for the Foundation was not clearly visible, either; many first-time visitors had a hard time finding it.

There was a small parking lot in front of the office building. A few cars of different models and years were parked within the lot, being silently washed by the rain.

“Damn it!”

Eddy Lewis pushed open the car door, gave a nasty look to the gloomy sky, then walked out of the car reluctantly. He covered his head with his briefcase, which he held in one hand, and held a paper cup with coffee in it in his other hand. He hurried into the building against the cold wind and rain.

“Hi, Eddy! You are late!” The receptionist handed over a napkin to him. “Horrible weather, isn’t it? Wipe yourself off. Don’t catch a cold.”

“Horrible, indeed! And I was stuck in traffic on my way!”

Eddy put his coffee on the front desk, then took the napkin to wipe his face and his bald head. He then dried up the raindrops on his glasses and exchanged a few words about the weather with the receptionist.

“I’m going up. See you later!” He tossed the napkin into the garbage bin, took up his coffee, said goodbye to the receptionist, then walked straight into the elevator and adjusted his tie in the mirror.

He was a volunteer for the Foundation, where he worked for them free of charge during his days off. He had been working there for almost ten years.

He was a little late today, as he was caught in traffic while driving by Chinatown in Los Angeles. Traffic jams were happening all the time in Los Angeles, but it happened today for a different reason––the Chinese Lion Dance team was performing a lion dance by the street with drums, gongs, and firecrackers. It was such a spectacle that many tourists and local residents were attracted to watch it, which completely blocked the roads. That, plus the bad weather, caused the cars to move at snail’s pace.

He should have thought about this earlier. It was Chinese New Year, and even residents in the United States could not escape its huge significance.

This was not the first time that he had arrived late to work during Chinese New Year, but he could not be blamed. The Chinese New Year’s Day never fell on a fixed date, and he could never remember the variable dates. It would be great if the date was fixed, such as American Thanksgiving, which occurred on the fourth Thursday of every November. He would have remembered it this way. From now on, though, he would take a different road during the New Year season.

Ding! The elevator stopped on the third floor, where his office was located, and the door opened.

“Good morning, Eddy!”

“Good morning!”

In the hallway, he greeted his colleagues that passed by him. Like him, most of them were just volunteering for the Foundation. Some of them had lost family members to cancer, while some just wanted to help out. Eddy was one of the latter.

“Oh, right. Eddy!” The colleague who greeted Eddy stopped behind him.

“What is it?” Eddy turned his head and asked.

“When I passed by your office just now, the phone was ringing,” his colleague said while he walked backwards.

“Thanks. I’m late today.” Eddy nodded to thank him. “Hey, how about a drink in the bar nearby tonight? I mean, if it doesn’t rain.”

“Sure. See you there.”

Eddy took out a key that opened the door of the donation office. He was the only one working today. He looked at the phone on the desk––it was not ringing, but the recording light was blinking, indicating a missed call or a voice message.

He put his briefcase and coffee on the desk, then pressed the button on the answering machine. He hooked his jacket, which had turned wet in the rain, on the jacket hanger.

“Hello, you’ve reached the donation office of the Matthew Davis Cancer Research Foundation. We are out of the office right now. Please leave a message after the beep, and we’ll call you back at our earliest convenience.”

This was his pre-recorded message in the answering machine.

“Hello. Is there nobody there? I just want to ask about the donation… but it’s okay. I’ll call back later.” An elderly lady’s voice was at the other end of the phone line. After her short sentence, she hung up.

The daily job of Eddy Lewis was to make and answer phone calls. He had heard the voice of many people and could even get some basic information about the caller judging from the accent. The lady caller he just listened to had an obvious accent from southern California. Eddy guessed she was above 60 years of age, with a gentle voice and appropriate tone. She was clearly a well-educated and well-mannered person, meaning she should be one of the main targets for a potential donor to the Foundation.

He usually got a few similar phone calls every day; it was nothing surprising.

However, after glancing at the caller ID, Eddy frowned. It was a long-distance call from overseas; the area code was neither from the United States, nor from Canada. He could only remember area codes from these two countries, but the caller’s area code seemed very unfamiliar.

The Matthew Davis Foundation rarely received donations from overseas. Most of the donors were located in North America, while some were occasionally from Europe.

It was a long-distance call from overseas, yet the caller had a local, California accent. This had aroused his interest.

Would she call back later? According to his experience, the chance was half and half.

Some donors might have made an impulsive decision to donate, and regretted it after they had calmed down––meaning they would never call back. Some donors randomly picked whom they made donations to. Most of the time they found the number of the Matthew Davis Foundation in the yellow pages and then made the call. If nobody answered, they would switch to a different agency. It didn’t make much of a difference to the donor, anyway.

Eddy couldn’t do anything about it. He could only blame the Lion Dance team this morning, which caused his late arrival. If he lost a huge donation to the Foundation because of it, it would be such a shame.

Eddy stood by the window, glanced at San Francisco in the misty drizzle, then took a sip of coffee to warm himself up.

He hated the rain and hated getting wet in it, much like his mongrel cat at home. It was always rainy during this time of year in San Francisco, though. Consecutive days of damp and cold, cloudy weather made people feel horrible.

After thinking for a while, he played the voice message again. He had great ears and seemed to have heard meowing from the background. Was the caller a cat lover as well?

What should he do? Should he dial back? The caller had been clear that she would call back later. Maybe dialing back right now would upset her, or make her feel untrusted…

Eddy hesitated.

Ring!

At the very moment he hesitated, the phone rang again.

“Hello, you’ve reached the donation office of the Matthew Davis Cancer Research Foundation…” the answering machine responded automatically. Eddy suddenly realized that the answering machine had not been turned off yet, and picked up the phone immediately.

“Hey––hello, this is Eddy Lewis,” he said.

“Hello. This is Katherine Donna Ryan. You can call me Kathy.” It was the same voice as earlier.

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