The Cat, the Belly Dancer, & the Cello
A Novel
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
THE CATS Sira lay under the geraniums all afternoon smelling the delectable fish slow cooking, dreaming of the sweet flesh near the bone. When the sun went down Bastet tossed her a gecko. It was a nice appetizer however the nectar of fish made her tongue moist with anticipation. Hours passed until finally Ogin brought the bag of trash out on his way to catch the dolmus. Moaning he placed a large bolder on top of the bin. After the gardener was out of sight, Sira jumped on the top, sniffed, hopped down, peered longingly in a hole on the side then let out a fierce yeowl. Bastet came up beside her, 'What's up?' 'That gardener put a rock on the bin. I can't get in to get the fish.' 'Let me think about it.' 'How's that going to help? We need a strong person to get that off.' 'Maybe. Be quiet, let me think.' The thought of thinking was beyond Sira, 'No you don't understand Bastet. We need to do some thing, not think some thing.' 'Sira go away for a while, take a walk.' 'Why would I want to take a walk if the fish is in there?' 'It's like hunting Sira. When you talk and help me do I catch a mouse or bird.' 'Not usually.' 'Never.' 'Okay never.' 'When I hunt and you go and wait under the bushes what happens?' 'I wait and then you bring me something nice to eat. A fat little bird or a juicy mouse, sometimes only a gecko but beggars can't be choosers you told me so….' 'So! The point is you leave me alone and I catch something. Go wait under the bushes.' 'Are you going to catch something for me now? Because it's kind of late for hunting but if you think you can…' 'Go wait under the bushes and I'll see if I can get the rock off this bin.' 'Oh! Why didn't you say so. Alright I'll go wait in the geraniums. Will you know where to find me?' 'You hide there every day Sira.' 'So you will know where to find me, right?' 'Right.' 'That's the best thing about using the same hiding place every day. You always know where to find me.' 'I can't find you if you're not there.' 'Okay I'll go there now.' 'Good idea.' THE FOREIGNERS The foreigners putted along in relative ease, gentle spray dusting their faces. Kara let it wash over her, drank in the salty smell hoping to cleanse her soul. Mike's mouth was moving. The wind pushed noise from the engine back making it hard to hear. She concentrated on a bird poaching berries from a bush, two geckos flitting in and out of the large stones on shore. Michael switched the motor off wanting to enjoy nature himself. The boat drifted rapidly toward the rocks. When he tried to reignite, it wouldn’t start. Kara held her breath as he struggled. In a moment they would crash. She peered around for an oar, anything to push the boat away from the jagged rocks at the edge. At the last second the engine coughed into life. At full throttle Mike steered them clear of danger. He cut out into the middle of the bay as a precaution in case the motor died. What neither of them saw was the swell. They were at the mouth of the inlet in calm water one minute and immersed in giant waves the next. The boat heaved, rocked and rolled onto it’s side. Kara held onto the hook of the anchor securing her legs against the rails on either side as she was whipped from starboard to port. Michael clung to the steering wheel trying desperately to turn around. The boat was being pulled out to sea. THE BELLY DANCER The friends parted. Leyla was walking only a few blocks away. Suddenly the sky darkened. Wild wind whipped at her clothing. Fierce hard rain hammered down on the thinly clad woman who couldn't find a cab anywhere in site. Mascara stung her eyes blinding her. Blinking she tried to wipe it away with one hand while shielding her eyes from the torrential downpour with the other. She was completely unaware of the long black car that slid up to the curb until a door opened and she heard Erhan's voice. 'You're a sight for sore eyes.' As he extended his hand out of the vehicle and Leyla reached to take it a power line snapped forcing him back inside. The lethal wire took on a life of it's own snaking down, sending colourful electrical shocks onto the watery pavement in every direction. She leapt backward and up onto the rim of a potted tree holding the sapling's trunk for dear life. It was too small. The pot began to tip over. She was arched backward leaning toward the deadly wire, sizzling, crackling in the water below. Erhan hollered, 'No!!!' Eerily the wind growled, lightening flashed, thunder clapped covering the sound of a motorcycle. Out of nowhere strong arms pulled Leyla up and onto the moving bike. The rescuer swerved, sped through one alley after another leaving Erhan's driver outdistanced and out manoeuvred.
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About the Book
As the reader experiences Georgia March’s magical The Cat, the Belly Dancer, & the Cello set at the beginning of twentieth-century Turkey, they will discover not everything is as it seems. Each chapter is a frozen snapshot covering another, waiting to be torn away. Unexpected danger ensnares two belly dancers from Istanbul who tackle it with lighthearted ease until their efforts are met with sinister results. Forced under someone else’s microscope, the women come up against aspects of their own characters that bear examination. At the same time, a Canadian woman and her British boyfriend living in Spain venture through the centre of Turkey experiencing calamity and chaos in a country where both the language and customs bring new insight to the word foreign. Their personal backgrounds are also contrary to each other, meaning nothing is straight forward. This winding road leads them to Kas, a spellbinding place that captures their hearts and pocket books. Their lives become intricately intertwined with local Turks and they have the choice of learning to laugh at themselves or others will do it for them. At the same time, enjoy the anecdote of two cats with their own history, ideas on justice, and view of the world.
About the Author
Georgia March has written for theatre, television, and newspapers. She is a storyteller, fine artist, singer, and harpist residing in London, Canada. Her birthplace is Toronto and she has lived in several Canadian provinces and a number of foreign countries. About the Cat Muneca is a world traveller boasting two international passports. She is the author’s mentor, inspiration, and advisor on all things feline.