“Thank you for letting me stay,” I said gratefully to the old man.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” the old man said, sitting in the other armchair.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money for you,” I said hesitantly.

“That’s quite all right. I wouldn’t take any even if you did have some,” the old man replied. I sighed in relief, leaning my head back and dosing my eyes, soaking up the heat from the fire. The room filled with silence except for the gentle crackling of the fire. I realized how tired I was that moment, and how well the chair substituted for a bed.

“Tell me,” the old man said, “Have you ever seen a talking turtle?” I opened my eyes in shock and turned my head to look at the old man. He was leaning forward, looking at me intently.

“No, I haven’t,” I answered. The old man leaned back in his chair,

“Oh,” he said. I again closed my eyes.

“How about a dragon?” the old man asked, and I groaned. I really wanted some peace and quiet.

“No, I have never seen a dragon,” I said through gritted teeth.

“A unicorn? A phoenix? A singing table? A chair that can walk? A bird that can swim? An ogre? An elf?” he asked, leaning forward as he talked. My annoyance grew with each strange thing the old man listed, but I tried to stay calm. After all, he had brought me in out of the rain. Finally, I could take no more.

“No! I have never seen any of these things, and I would quit asking because no one has!” I shouted, immediately abashed for my outburst.

“Oh, but I have. I have,” the old man said quietly. He leaned ever further forward, his eyes looking at me ever more intently. The fire glinted in his eyes, dancing about to a never-ending song that no one could hear. He leaned so close to me that his face nearly touched my own. “And all on a rainy night like this,” he whispered. I raised my eyebrows and he leaned back in his chair, staring into the hearth. He remained silent, and I leaned back in my own chair to sleep, or at least try to.

“Have you ever seen a cat dance on his head?” the old man asked. I opened my eyes.

“No, sir, I haven’t,” I answered, slightly frightened by this new development. A cat dance on his own head? Ridiculous! The others could probably be created with a few inventions. Glue a horn to a horses’ head and you’ve got instant unicorn. But this you couldn’t fake. The old man looked at me, aghast.

“Why, then you have never lived!” he cried, leaping from his chair and jumping up and down.

“But, sir,” I said slowly, “Cat’s can’t dance on their heads.” The old man’s eyes widened.

“Can’t, you say? Oh, but they can, they can! I have seen one do so, seen it with my very own eyes!” he exclaimed, nearly hysterical with excitement. He sat back down on his chair, leaning towards me, his eyes bright.

“It was a rainy night, just like this one. This was my first encounter with anything out of the ordinary. I was much younger then, somewhere in my early twenties. I had graduated from school and my life was going down hill. With no home to call my own, I wandered the alleys countless nights, finding nothing but dirt and rocks. Then, one rainy night, I tripped over a tin can,” the old man said melodramatically.

“You tripped over a tin can,” I said skeptically.

“Yes, I tripped over a tin can! I don’t find many of those in alleys! So, of course, because it was so rare, I went to pick up the can, thinking that I could use it in some way or another. It was muddy, but I didn’t mind. As I bent down to pick up the can, I glanced up and gasped. There, standing in front of me, was a cat. Now, there is nothing unusual about a cat, but a cat standing on his hind legs? That is unusual! I stood up, tin can in hand, and stared at the cat. The strangeness of the night had just begun.

“The cat stared back at me, raised a front paw, and waved. I dropped my can in shock. I began to walk away, but the cat hissed, so I kept my feet still.

“I watched as the cat popped his head off of his neck, set it on the ground, and promptly began to dance on top of it. His orange body snaked around, fluffy tail swishing through the air. I stared in awe. The cat danced beautifully, gracefully placing each foot in the required position. I watched for hours, wondering if perhaps I was imagining things. I’m fairly sure I wasn’t.

“I eventually dropped off to sleep. When I woke, the cat was gone. My mind had been filled with images of this wonderful cat, and the images wouldn’t leave,” the old man said. His voice cracked, and I realized that he was crying, though I couldn’t see the tears.

“How did you end up here?” I asked quietly. The old man looked at me, considering. Again silence fell over the room. His paper thin skin was white as snow, laugh lines running along his face. Finally, he answered.

“I died,” he said matter-of-factly. He settled back in his chair, staring into the fire.

“Oh,” I said, surprised. I was becoming quite convinced that this man was just a little crazy. I curled up in the chair to sleep, closing my eyes to that last image of the old man.

The next morning I found myself lying on a patch of green grass, curled up with my raincoat and boots. The ground smelled like rain and earth. I sat up and looked around. The house was gone, and so was the man.

Standing up, I searched the area. The trees nearby looked familiar, and the distant sound of rushing water told me that that river was somewhere nearby. I was sure this was where I was the night before, but I could find no sign that would tell me that the house had ever been here. There was not so much as a single blade of grass crushed, besides where I had been laying. There was, however, a patch of grass that grew higher than the rest. I walked to it and pushed the grass aside.

Hidden among the grass, was a large stone. A name was engraved upon it, and two numbers. I recognized it for what it was. With tears in my eyes, I picked a few fresh wildflowers and placed them upon the grave, stood up, dusted the dirt from my jeans, and walked away.

Crazy as this sounds, I have decided that what happened really did happen and wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. I have also decided that that old man wasn’t nearly as crazy as I had thought. He taught me a lot, though I didn’t realize it at the time. He taught me how much the simple things in life can mean so much, and showed me the kindness in a human’s heart. I’ve searched for him since, but have yet to find him again. His memory remains with me still.

I guess those kinds of things just happen when you need them, and need them with your heart. That old man needed something to cheer him up, and the cat showed up. I needed a place to stay, and that old man showed up with his house.

It just goes to show you that anything can happen on rainy nights like that.