We hid inside a broken carton that had been dumped in the corner of the room, if you could call it that.

We maneuvered through the dozens of plastic and wooden containers and jumped inside. It was cozy for both of us, and it had no chance of being found due to the bulky cartons that blocked the way. No-one could spot us from afar, and so I told my story to Casper.

He listened with rapt attention as I told him about how my parents left me in the alleyway, and how I met Schumacher Sr.. I mentioned how much he had taken care of me and how the two ruffians, Hairy and Baldy had invaded our home expecting to find some valuable possessions. Instead, they stumbled upon me and almost sold me to a stranger. And now, I concluded, I had escaped thanks to the strength and stamina supplied to me by the generous Schumacher, and boarded this ship in hopes of finding a better life out there in the wide world.

Casper gasped and laughed at every twist and turn, but he also showed genuine sadness when I told him how kind Schumacher Sr. was. He sighed when I asked him to share his chronicles.

"I used to live with a cruel old woman." He began. "She used to beat me every day with a wooden stick for no good reason. She didn't even feed me, and I only survived thanks to the generosity of other alley cats, who shared their crumbs with me. I had hoped and prayed fervently that a kind owner would find me and love me like your Schumacher loved you. But none did."

"Fate can be downright evil sometimes." I remarked.

"Yes, it can be. I lived with the cold woman for a year, but I had enough of her tantrums when she half-cut my whiskers. She even gave me bread that might have been fossilized during the reign of the dinosaurs and I had a bad stomach-ache all night. So I sneaked out while she was ranting to her neighbor, and resolved to try my luck in America."

I blinked in confusion. "America?" I inquired. "What and where is that?"

Casper looked as much as confused as I was.

"You don't know where America is? It's out in the west somewhere. It's huge and enormous and I've heard that people care for cats there, so I boarded this ship."

"How did you know that this ship goes to America?" I asked.

"I heard someone yelling, 'All aboard the ship bound for America!' So I decided to try my luck." He replied.

We talked for a while and I in these conversations, we became good friends. I was satisfied with having Casper as a friend, and hoped he would stay with me till the end of the journey, and maybe even farther than that.

It was late evening now. We had not eaten anything for twenty- four hours. My stomach grumbled, and more humiliatingly, Casper heard it. He gave a good-natured giggle and cut me off before I could explain.

"You don't need to explain, compadre, your stomach said it all for you. Come on, I know someplace where we can find ourselves some high-class cuisine. I had no intention of going there, because its full of people, but then again, beggars can't be choosers."

We dodged through porters and sailors, traversing through different rooms, and reached the kitchen. It's atmosphere was rich in different aromas and flavors. I wanted to eat the air, wanted to crush it in chunks and stuff it through my throat. But Casper had a better idea.

He settled himself besides a particular steel table, on which sat a china plate. I was too short to see what was placed upon it, but apparently Casper did. He waited until the chef who was decorating the platter went away, and then he gave the gave the table a tremendous shake.

The plate trembled a bit.

He shook it a little more. The plate quivered dangerously.

No one noticed. The sizzling sounds of the lamb kebobs, the calls for missing sauces and the 'chop-chop' of onions and garlic drowned out any other background noises.

He finally gave it his all, and plate, after teetering dangerously on the edge of the steel platform, fell down and collapsed in a heap. I saw what had been placed upon it.

It was a large salmon, smothered by carrot slices, cucumbers and other vegetable toppings. It made my mouth water, and made my stomach growl even more. It took me a second to realize that all eyes were on us both.

For a millisecond, the chefs and sous chefs processed and registered in their minds what had happened, but not quick enough, for by that time, me and Casper had left as quick as lightning, with the juicy, tender salmon in Casper's mouth.

We had not stayed there a second more, and when the chefs had understood that someone had ran off with the fish, we had already reached our little home, the carton at the corner of the cargo room.

The best thing was that the humans thought it was a little scamp that had committed this act of robbery. They did not, for once, suspect two little cats, laughing and joking in the cargo room, while helping themselves to the salmon they had poached ever so expertly.