If Cats Disappeared From The World

The postman introduces his pet cat Cabbage as his roommate. The postman was five years old when his mother found an abandoned kitten on the street, soaked with rain and in a cardboard box. She named him “Lettuce” after the label on the side of the box, and refused to give him up even though she was allergic to cats. For a month she cared for Lettuce despite constant sneezes, watering eyes, and a swollen face, until one day the symptoms abruptly disappeared. She believed that one of the rules of the universe was that nothing can be gained without losing something else. Getting anything for free is just theft and means that somewhere someone else must be losing out.

Lettuce died of a tumor 11 years later, peacefully in his sleep. After his death, the postman’s mother was inconsolable with grief until she one day found and rescued another abandoned kitten. She laughed as she pointed out how much the new kitten—Cabbage—resembled Lettuce. It was the first time she smiled since Lettuce died. Four years ago the postman’s mother died peacefully in her sleep from a tumor, just as Lettuce had. Before she died, she asked her son to take care of Cabbage for her. However, fate has a dark sense of humor—the postman is going to die before Cabbage. His mother would be unimpressed with him; she would have said that she should have left Cabbage with someone else.

The postman dreams of his mother for the first time in a long while. He wonders if he imagined the previous day, but then realizes that his phone is nowhere to be found and that his persistent fever and headache are gone. It might not be such a bad thing to get rid of mobile phones; all of his spare time lately has been spent on his phone rather than reading books or watching films. Even when he’s watching TV or travelling or spending time with Cabbage, he’s always on his phone too. Mobile phones have only existed for 20 years, but they’ve already taken over the lives of many people. The postman does wonder, however, if people felt that previous technologies such as the postal system or the internet had a similarly negative impact when they were first popularized. The introduction of new things always leads to the end of the old, so perhaps God was right to accept the Devil’s proposal to disappear surplus items.

Sentimentally, the postman used his final phone call the previous night to organize a meeting with his ex-girlfriend, the first woman he ever loved. They dated for three years and broke up seven years ago. He gets a haircut and new glasses on his way to meet with her. On the tram, he notes that no one is on their phone, and thinks that he might have done the world a favor by removing them. However, phone numbers are still visible on signs and adverts for phones remain. Perhaps phones haven’t truly disappeared, but have instead simply been made unnoticeable so that over the coming years they will cease to exist. This is similar to the effect of a magical hat in the manga Doraemon, which rendered its wearer unnoticeable until his tears of loneliness freed him. The postman figures that the 107 other people whom the Devil previously propositioned must have made other items disappear too, with no one else in the world the wiser.

He arrives at their arranged meeting site under the clock tower in the town square and reads a book while waiting. He is over an hour early. Without his phone, he couldn’t check what time they arranged to meet or call his ex-girlfriend to find out, which is very frustrating for him. He was often similarly frustrated when the two of them were dating because his girlfriend did not have a phone. She lived alone and would call him from a payphone, so he would pick up her calls regardless of his surroundings and even slept with his phone so that he wouldn’t miss her calls. After six months together he managed to persuade her to at least get a landline—a number he called so often that he still knows it by heart. He’s never bothered memorizing other numbers, or indeed any other information saved to his mobile phone; he muses that phones have had a scary effect on people’s brains.

She arrives at their meeting place, seemingly unchanged except for the fact that she’s cut her hair short. She still lives above the movie theater where she works as she did in college. They go to a coffee shop, where the postman informs her of his impending death. He’s initially disappointed with her glib and unemotional reaction, although he then questions why people expect more emotional responses from others than they themselves are able to muster. He explains his recent diagnosis, but does not describe his deal with the Devil lest she think he is having delusions. Instead, he wants to talk about their shared history, asking what little things she remembers about them and their relationship. She is annoyed, so the postman excuses himself to the bathroom to escape. Upon his return, she tells him that she remembers he would often go to the bathroom for long periods of time, and lists his other negative qualities. Although she’s speaking the truth, he is hurt and even heartbroken at her harsh negative judgment.

She also notes that he was always far more verbose over the phone than in person. They spoke over the phone for hours each day even though they lived close to each other, but never had much to say in person. She enjoyed their calls and how passionate he could be when discussing books and music; she did love him. With the ice broken, they catch up and discuss shared memories. She asks after his father and reveals that his mother had always hoped that they would reconcile. She also asks after Cabbage, offering to take the cat in if the postman can’t find anyone else to care for him. The postman’s girlfriend and his mother always got on extremely well; they spent time together without him. The ex-girlfriend came to his mother’s funeral and wept as she held Cabbage through the service.

He walks her home and asks why they broke up. She says there’s no point trying to remember the details, although the beginning of the end was likely their trip to Buenos Aires. It was the only vacation they ever took abroad together. They were initially intoxicated by the passion of the city and the company of Tom, a new friend they made there. Tom was a Japanese traveler who drank heavily each night and regaled them with wild stories of his adventures. One evening he failed to return from a sightseeing tour—he died in a bus accident. They were in disbelief, both grieving for the first time. The postman’s girlfriend screamed out her grief under the roar of the famous Iguazu Falls waterfall, but the postman was helpless to console her. Neither spoke a word during the return flight to Japan; in the silence, they both realized their relationship was at an end. They parted ways without fanfare a week later. The postman feels a morsel of regret at the possibility that if they had been able to talk to each other on the phone as they flew back to Japan together, they might have been able to offer each other support and move their relationship into a new stage instead of breaking up. Phones had made it easy for them to connect, but more difficult for them to know each other in a profound way that could endure in the real world.

They arrive at her home, and she apologizes for saying such harsh things earlier, reminding him of their long-ago promise to learn about love and themselves by admitting what they didn’t like about each other if ever they broke up. They both laugh that she wanted to do it before he died, and the postman realizes that both life and love are beautiful because they have to end. Because he is to die soon, she offers to screen one final movie of his choice for him privately in the movie theater the following night. When he agrees, she asks him what her favorite place in the world is, but he has forgotten. After she has gone, he suddenly recalls that her favorite place is the movie theater because it always feels as though there’s a space waiting for her.

In his excitement the postman wants to call her immediately, but cannot without a phone. Phones remove the anxiety, loneliness, and helplessness of not being able to get in touch with someone, but also remove the hope and impatience of waiting to meet again. He feels a sharp pain in his head as he recalls his mother’s belief that gaining something means losing something else. He suddenly hears himself say that he doesn’t want to die yet, only to turn and see that it is Aloha mimicking his voice. Aloha, who has been watching him all day, says that he must be even less willing to die now that he has a date scheduled. Aloha will make movies disappear next in exchange for a day of the postman’s life. The postman is overwhelmed by the thought of all the movies he’s seen where anything can happen, and cries out that this must be a nightmare before passing out.