Caleb - Crouching Priest, Hidden Gym Bro

I should have found the note sooner.

Truly, I should have. But I probably spaced out most of the time while I was playing the guitar for my cat audience few hours ago.

When I walked back after the evening study session, humming the still half-finished hymn, all I saw were the same cats, still waiting for my return. All sat in a perfect semicircle in front of the church bench like they were attending a feline conference.

‘Oh! There you all are,’ I said delightedly. ‘What are you guys still doing here? It’s late now.’

One of them, the calico with the attitude problem, strutted up and smacked my shin.

‘Alright,’ I said, kneeling. ‘I deserve that. I promised food but that meeting went too long.’

Another cat hissed. Another pawed at my sleeve. Another climbed onto my lap like a tiny dictator.

‘Alright! Alright! Let me raid the kitchen!’

With a few cats dangling over me, I walked towards the other side of the church.

‘If I get video recorded in this state, I will get much more trending online you guys. Will you take responsibility for my reputation?’

On my periphery, I saw a glimpse of a tiny cat sat by a container.

‘Oh, hi! What’s that you got there buddy?’

I went over to see if it was something one of the pastors forgot. I reached for it and felt something crinkle underneath it. A note with a neat handwriting folded twice.

‘What’s this?’

The calico scratched at the note, then stared at me meaningfully.

‘You want me to read it?’ I asked the cat as if it would respond. ‘What if it’s confidential?’

It meowed. Alright… I opened it.

Feed the cats. You’re their new boss now. Also, your chorus keeps dipping when it needs to lift. Try this instead.

It shouldn’t have, but my face heated up instantly. It was from her. Aika. The quiet café girl with soft eyes and frightened shoulders and a habit of vanishing quickly like these stray cats.

She noticed my singing? She noticed the flaw? And she even notated a correction.

I stared at the little sketch of notes. It looked like it was written by someone who made music.

‘She heard me earlier?’ I asked the wind. The cats responded by meowing impatiently.

‘Oh. Right. Food first.’

I tore open the bag and knelt down. As I did, without meaning to, I hummed her suggested melody. Everything changed suddenly. I wasn’t struggling to finish the song’s rhythm anymore. The chorus lifted only subtly, but it was the perfect fit. It made the song feel hopeful and more warm.

It fit! It fit so well that my heart lurched in my chest.

‘Oh that’s… Oh wow.’

I opened up my guitar bag and got playing right away, before I forgot the melody. I strummed once with my thumb, repeating her suggested contour. The cats stared. I repeated it again. And again.

‘This is brilliant,’ I whispered. ‘She’s brilliant.’

A cat jumped onto my guitar, knocking a chord out of tune.

‘HEY—-!’

Apparently, I’d forgotten to feed them again. 

‘Oops!Sorry!’

Before I could fix it, Bingo, the orange menace, launched himself at my shoulder and knocked me flat onto the grass. I lay there wheezing.

‘Okay! I get it! Feeding time first!’

The cats surrounded me like furry creditors. One sat on my chest. Another stepped on my throat like a tiny assassin.

I laughed helplessly. ‘Alright, alright. You win.’

Once their stomachs were satisfied and their coup d’état ended, I finally managed to escape back into the dorm. I carried the note with me. Protected like scripture.

*****

My quarters were simple. A bed, a desk, a stack of theology books, and my guitar propped in the corner.

I don’t know why, but I tucked the note into my Bible. There there. Somewhere close and safe.

I dropped to my knees to pray.

‘Father,’ I whispered, ‘thank You for this new assignment. For the calm of Izu. For the people here. For the work.’

My hands folded naturally, like muscle memory.

‘And… thank You for the girl at the café.’

I hesitated.

Was that inappropriate? Maybe.

But I wasn’t thanking God for her beauty or anything unholy. I was thanking Him for her presence. For her gentleness. For the way kindness clung to her like a shadow she didn’t notice. For her courage to exist quietly despite the heaviness in her eyes.

‘For whatever she’s carrying,’ I murmured. ‘Please help her feel safe. Help her know she’s not alone.’

I prayed for my family next.

My mother in Denmark. My father with a short work assignment in Nagano. My little sister studying nursing in Tokyo. They were loud, loving, good people. We are all in our own paths but we are the type of family who took pride in modesty and made casseroles for neighbors.

They always encouraged me to follow God, but they also teased me relentlessly. Especially after the raccoon incident. My mother still sends screenshots of comments from strangers.

“Blessed be thy jawline”, “Father, forgive me. I have stared” and the most common, “This man could convert me twice”.

I groaned into my pillow just thinking about it all. After prayer, I set my guitar aside and got ready for what I called my “secret training”. It was not spiritual training. That’s my whole day already. This one is physical training. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Resistance bands. Ten-pound dumbbells hidden in my drawer. Nothing extreme, just maintenance.

I believed a healthy body supported a healthy spirit. But I kept it private because the world absolutely did not need another reason to thirst-tweet about me.

As I rolled my sleeves up, I heard suspicious rustling. The fly screen on the window busted open. The cats had followed me. Four of them slipped through the open window and sat in a row like judges.

I sighed. ‘You are not supposed to be here.’

They just stared, as if I had no choice.

‘Suit yourselves. But if the head priest finds you, he’s got a dog that will chase you.’ I warned.

I started push-ups. One cat trotted over and sat directly beneath my face, staring into my soul with deep disappointment.

‘What?’ I asked mid-push-up. ‘Too slow?’

It meowed. I kept going. A second cat placed a paw on my back, as if “helping with resistance”.

‘Personal space is a virtue,’ I groaned, ‘that I do not possess… sigh.’

Even when I finished, sweating and panting all over the place, the cats still looked thoroughly unimpressed.

Aika’s cats has standards.

‘I can only do thorough activity for half an hour. I couldn’t do anymore.’

They all started to meow in chorus.

‘Alright, enough,’ I said, shooing them. ‘Out. Out. Before we all get found out and booted out of the dorm. Me included. Go home.’

They went out through the main door reluctantly. Probably disappointed I wasn’t some fitness deity. Just when I thought I was all alone now, one cat went back around and re-entered through the window. I could only sigh and let it happen.

Once I sat back at my desk, I pulled her note out again. 

She’d written something for me. Thought about something I created. Shared a piece of her mind, her talent, with me.

And that realization warmed me far more than I expected. The fact the someone cared enough to solve my problems. Not the usual scenario where people come to me so I can pray for them or ask me to actually, personally solve their problems for them.

She didn’t know me. Didn’t trust me. Didn’t even want to look at me. But she wrote to me. 

I pressed her note between my palms. ‘Maybe we really are friends,’ I whispered.

The cat by the window hissed at that as if saying, ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, pretty boy.’