The last few days at the café and in my own cave dwelling have been lively. The aroma of wine continues to intensify, as does the strange chatter coming from behind the wall. Babaru has spent almost all of her time at the Twirppies pool. Wurp, the café's permanent and trusted translator, does the same. His place is taken by whoever is willing to leave this exciting task for even a moment. There seems to be as many Friips as there are Twirppies. The café's pressurized outdoor area usually serves as a parking lot, but now it's a kind of camping ground. There's definitely not enough room for everyone, but necessity is the mother of invention.

  I decided to move from downstairs to my familiar corner table to continue writing. Pearl has taught me it was good measure to always check how the latest entry looks like after publishing. All looked well, plus one addition. Glancing at the cat "sleeping" at the top of her climbing tree, I got a yawn and a self-aware look in response. That poem-ish thing was definitely not meant for anyone to see. But yeah, Pearl’s a cat.

  She continues to amaze me with her mysteriousness. Once Pearl had completed her graceful stretches, she came just to observe me and my notes. In addition to my cursive writing exercises, I have been doing notes on languages, their structures, and analyses of the unraveling of previous mysteries. Soviet scholar Yuri Knorozov unlocked the secrets of the Mayan languages a little over seventy years ago. He did so, relying solely on copies and library materials. Yuri said that his cat Asya helped him understand the secrets of communication.

  Asya was a Siamese cat. And here sits Pearl. I don't know how I missed this before, but Pearl's resemblance to Asya is striking. It’s not just the looks, but also “her highness stance”. Pearl scanned my notes spread out on the table as if not seeing them. Her ears twitched and something flashed in the eyes. Deep memory, maybe? I continued to gaze at the cat, overcome by a strange feeling of recognition. Pearl definitely felt my stare drilling into her. Perhaps she saw me standing on the crossroad where points were bound to be connected. But with cats, one can never be sure.

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  “Opening languages requires more than just natural ability. That's Friips problem. You have to be able to think outside the box,” Pearl told me. Externally, she was completely herself; steady, enigmatic, and arrogant. But her tone of voice was different. It was a little like when she nuzzled me for the first and only time. Friendly and caring. Underneath her shell, there was so much more.

  Pearl washed her face for a while in her characteristic dignified manner, as if burying the slight sensitivity that had momentarily surfaced. Then it was over. Pearl moved as smoothly as a spring breeze from the table back to her observation / sleeping throne. I was confused. But underneath it all, a seed sprouted that felt like an answer to something. Babaru and Wurp started to pop in and out of my unconsciousness. Pearl meowed a short request to Gwen, the player living inside the café's jukebox. Pink Floyd’s song Time started to play.

  Song's intro: First come the clocks ticking, then alarms blaring, and then the iconic rototoms.

  My stomach fills with butterflies.

  I quickly returned to my notes and began to get a picture of the idea tugging at the back of my head.

  The song continues, and I catch up with the lyrics: “Waiting for someone or something to show you the way…”

  Was this my moment with Asya?

  The Twirppies language is difficult to understand. For me, everything outside Earth is Greek. Figuratively speaking. I can read Greek fluently, but you understand my point. Nevertheless, the Twirppies language is even more different than Greek. Even I recognize its alien structure. But there is something more to it. Pearl's almost wordless visit and her song request was the key. There is something so magical about Pearl. Her uniqueness just continues to deepen.

  I wish I could hold on to this insight. It's almost within my grasp, but I don't dare close my fingers for fear of breaking it. If this materializes, I can help the Friips. No matter how absurd it may sound. Hopefully, they will accept my ideas better than Yuri's contemporaries accepted his ideas about the Mayan language.

  Till next time.

  

  
• Johnny