Drawing Cats
In a small town, there lived a family. The father was poor but honest and kind. He had two sons. The elder son was already fourteen years old and could help his father with many chores. The younger son, Mike, was physically weak and couldn’t help much, but he was smart and quick to learn. So, his father sent him to another town to be an apprentice to a brewer.
Mike respected his master and was diligent in learning the brewing skills, but he had a particular hobby—he loved to draw cats. He drew cats with pencils, chalk, and sticks, on paper, in books, on the ground, on walls, and even on his master’s clothes. Mike indeed had a natural talent for drawing, and he secretly aspired to become a painter.
One day, Mike was squatting on the ground, drawing a cat. The cat looked lifelike, capturing its spirit. The master saw this and said, “I don’t think you will become a good brewer. You should leave. Maybe you can become a great artist!”
Mike felt very sad when he said goodbye to his master. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. If he returned home, his father would certainly scold him.
He suddenly remembered that there was another brewer in another town. Maybe this master would take him in.
Before he could reach the other town, it got dark. There was a church in the woods by the road, and Mike thought he might have to spend the night there.
This church had not been used for a long time and was said to be the home of a little demon. Mike didn’t know this. He only saw the light inside and walked towards it.
The church door was ajar. He pushed it lightly, and it opened. There was no one inside, but the candles were lit. Mike thought the priest might have gone out, so he sat down and waited, looking around.
The church was silent, with cobwebs and dust everywhere. The chairs were covered with a thick layer of dust, indicating that no one had been there for a long time. There was a clean white spot on the wall, which aroused Mike’s desire to draw cats. He took out his pen and started drawing.
He drew many cats of different sizes until he could barely keep his eyes open. Then he stopped. He felt sleepy and tired, but the priest had not returned. Thinking about being alone in such a large church made him a bit scared.
He had noticed a small room on one side of the church. It might be a storage room, and it could be safer inside. Mike went into the small room, bolted the door, and lay down to sleep.
In the middle of the night, he was awakened by the sound of a fierce battle. The small room had no windows, and he didn’t dare to open the door, not even making a sound. The candlelight in the church suddenly went out, and the fighting continued, shaking the walls. Finally, it quieted down, so silent that there was not a single sound.
Mike stayed in the small room, not daring to move until daylight. When the sun came up, he cautiously came out.
The church was a mess, with bloodstains on the floor. Near the door lay a giant dead rat, larger than a goat!
Who had fought and killed this giant rat during the night? Looking around, it seemed that no one else was there. Suddenly, Mike saw the cats he had drawn on the wall, and the mouths and bodies of these big cats still had fresh blood on them. Mike realized that the cats he had drawn had killed the giant rat.
Mike continued his journey, asking for directions until he reached the brewer’s place. Something seemed to be wrong at the brewer’s house. A group of people was talking noisily at the door. The brewer was squatting by the wall, his face pale and his hair disheveled.
Mike heard the people talking, saying that a monster had appeared at the brewer’s house these past few days. Last night, the brewer had hired some strong men to wait at home, but in the middle of the night, a strange wind blew, knocking them out, and some still hadn’t woken up.
Mike squeezed to the front and told the brewer he wanted to be his apprentice and that he could help get rid of the monster. The brewer thought he was joking and ignored him.
It got dark, and people went home. The brewer also went to someone else’s house to stay. Now only Mike was left guarding the brewer’s door.
The brewer’s door was not locked. After thinking for a while, Mike firmly pushed the door open and went inside.
He lit a candle on the table and looked around. The house was small, filled with a strong smell of wine. The walls were damp from the steam, and the plaster was peeling off. After looking around, Mike climbed into a large empty wine barrel, covered it, and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night, a cold wind blew in, causing the door and windows to rattle, and the candle to go out. Then, he heard the loud flapping of wings, prying at the wine barrel, and the sound of “glug glug” drinking.
Mike was startled awake, pushed the lid of the barrel, and stood up to see what was happening. Suddenly, the barrel flew out of the window, landed on the ground, and kept spinning. Mike was so dizzy that he couldn’t see straight.
At dawn, Mike climbed out of the barrel and was seen by the brewer, who thought it was impressive for such a small child to go alone to fight the monster. He decided to try again with Mike that night.
At night, Mike and the brewer chatted in the house. Suddenly, Mike remembered something, scraped off a piece of peeling plaster, and started drawing cats on the wall. The brewer asked what he was doing, and Mike said he would know in the morning.
At eleven o’clock, they were both sleepy, so they each climbed into a barrel, covered it, and went to sleep.
In the middle of the night, the monster flew in again. Mike and the brewer stayed hidden in their barrels, hearing fierce biting and the sound of barrels colliding, causing their barrels to roll around. After more than two hours of chaos, it finally quieted down, and they fell asleep.
The next morning, a crowd gathered in front of the brewer’s house. They were neighbors and friends, concerned for the brewer’s safety.
The noise woke Mike and the brewer. They climbed out of the barrels and saw several dead bats on the ground, each as big as a turkey. It seemed the strong smell of wine had attracted them.
The brewer still didn’t know who had killed the bats and asked Mike. Mike playfully pointed to the cats drawn on the wall. The cats’ mouths still had bat fur on them!
Although the brewer liked Mike and taught him brewing skills wholeheartedly, Mike eventually did not become a brewer but a famous painter. The most vivid and outstanding things he drew were still cats.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
