Grave Promise

by David R Lewis

  Ruby woke him up with a kiss, a hot cup of coffee, and a Sherman.

  “Pretty waterlogged, Crockett,” she said. “You’ve been in the tub for nearly two hours. How’s your back?”

  “Nonexistent. Whacha up to?”

  “I’ve been out. Got you a small espresso maker for the bus, a couple of lawn chairs, a cute little grill, and some camping things. I’ve already got the kitchen packed up except for the cold stuff, bedding put away, clothes stashed. We’ll finish loading the basement tonight, top off the fridge and things bright and early tomorrow, and we are off! I’ll start dinner while you get outa the tub.”

  “You’re gonna cook?”

  “My typical trauma, slash, comfort food. Big ol’ Angus burgers, homemade fries, chocolate shakes made with Bailey’s. Even got some Vidalia onions. Suit ya?”

  “Terrific. Exactly what I need.”

  “I got a traveling kennel for Nudge, too.”

  Nudge was Crockett’s cat. Over thirty-five pounds of one-fanged, buff-colored tomcat. Although probably by accident, he saved Ruby’s life when the Columbians came to kidnap the Amazing Disappearing Woman’s granddaughter.

  “A kennel for Nudge?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I already called Charlene about talking care of him while we’re gone.”

  Charlene was the gal who rented the top floor of Crockett’s house, then bought the whole thing when Ruby and he decided to cohabitate even though Ruby was gay at the time.

  “I called Charlene and told her to forget about it,” Ruby said. “He’ll be fine on the road. God, Crockett! Every damn motor home you pass on the highway has a couple of little foo-foo dogs smearing up the windows. We can’t let ‘em get away with that. Nudge makes a statement!”

  “Well, I remember how important pussy can be to you,” he said.

  “Yes,” Ruby said, “but that was B.C.”

  “Before Crockett?”

  “Bleak choices.”

  She grinned and patted her butt on the way out the door.

  By nine the next morning they had the basement loaded and lashed, the fridge filled and towels wrapped around the couple of glass containers, a litter pan and spill proof water dish on board for Nudge, and a disgruntled tomcat peering at them from his position in a cat carrier that would have easily housed an Airedale. After Crockett loaded the cat and carrier, deciding to keep Nudge locked up for a few miles, he watched Ruby exit the building, lock the door, and activate the alarm. She was carrying something large, flat, and floppy, and headed to the back of the coach. He arrived in time to watch her install a silver magnetic sign on the rear of the bus. Its blue lettering read simply, “The Pequod.”

  They weren’t more than three blocks from home before Nudge began to yowl.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vet Met

  Next to his childhood dog who died when he was fourteen, Crockett was closer to Nudge than he had been to almost any other living entity. By the time he’d wrestled the Pequod to eastbound I-70, he was ready to kill the feline rat bastard. Not only did Nudge yowl, he screeched, he screamed, he moaned, he yodeled, and he never seemed to even pause for breath. The interior of the coach, and Crockett’s sinuses, vibrated with the cat’s auditory passion. As they passed Blue Springs, Crockett’s vision was beginning to blur.

  “It’s probably the motion of the bus,” Ruby shouted through the din, causing white shafts of pain to ricochet through Crockett’s temples. “Maybe he’ll settle down when he gets used to it!”

  “My gun is in the top dresser drawer,” Crockett bellowed. “If you love me, you’ll get it and shoot either me or that fucking cat! At this point I really don’t care which. One of us has got to have relief!”

  Her laughter did little to relieve Crockett’s angst and nothing at all to help Nudge. When they reached the Odessa exit Crockett took it, drove over a curb, and stopped at a Texaco.

  “Find out if there’s a Vet’s office in this burg!” Crockett yelled, and Ruby bolted out the door. She barely hit the drive when Nudge shut up. The silence was huge. Crockett walked back to the couch and peered into the carrier. Nudge looked balefully at him, his chin and chest covered with drool, a comforting rumble issuing from deep within his body. Cats purr at the damnedest times.

  “You okay, big guy?” Crockett asked.

  “Myrphhhh,” Nudge replied, lisping because of the missing fang.

  “Don’t like riding much, huh?”

  The cat slow blinked at Crockett and flexed a coaster-size paw.

  “Hang in there, Pard. We’ll get ya some relief.”

  Crockett sat beside him and lit a Sherman. Ruby opened the door.

  “Veterinarian’s office just down…oh! Vet’s office just down the street. Second corner on the right. He’s quieted down, huh?”

  “Yeah. Got anything for a headache?”

  Nudge was vocalizing again before they got out of the drive.

  The Vet’s office was mercifully close and the instant they rolled to a stop Nudge shut up. Ruby took three aspirins and Crockett took four. Together, they reeled into the Vet’s waiting room. Behind the counter was a young lovely chewing on a Tootsie Roll Pop. Obviously an ex second runner-up in the local Junior Miss pageant. Her nametag read “Sissy.”

  “Hi!” she grinned around her sucker. “Can I, like, help you guys?”

  Crockett felt Ruby bristle, shouldered her discreetly aside, and explained their dilemma to the young lady. She laid a concerned pout on him and twirled the Pop by the stick protruding from the side of her mouth.

  “Wow. Lemme get Andy. He’ll, like, fix you guys right up, okay?” she replied, and vanished into the rear of the establishment.

  Andy was 5’8”, slightly built, and wearing a black tie, white shirt, black slacks, and a white lab coat. His blond hair was very short, his glasses rimless, his complexion pale, and his Adam’s apple in constant motion. He had the cleanest fingernails Crockett had ever seen on a human being of either gender. When Andy saw Ruby, he gave a small start. She shifted her position and smiled. Crockett could feel the poor man resisting the urge to chew on his tie.

  “Just bring the cat in,” Andy said, after Crockett explained the situation. “Probably only motion shock. I have an oral medication that works well for just such problems. I call them doggie downers, but they work well for felines, too. For cats, they must be taken on a partial pill basis, however. Body mass you see. Don’t want an overdose. They remove the anxiety and let the animal relax while the middle and inner ear adjusts to the repetitive motion of travel. Your cat screams because he feels as if he is falling. Once the animal becomes accustomed to the motion, everything is fine. Usually takes no more than just a couple of days. You say the cat’s never been on a trip before?”

  “Only a few blocks,” Crockett said. “He’s never even been to a Vet before.”

  “What?”

  “Nope. Showed up in my yard as a half-starved kitten ten or eleven years ago. I took him in and fed him. He’s never been sick that I know of.”

  “Every cat needs regular veterinary care,” Andy admonished.

  “Great. When we get back, I’ll bring him in for a full check up. Whatever he needs. Nothing’s too good for Nudge.”

  “Nudge?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Unusual name.”

  “Nudge is an unusual cat,” Crockett said. “I’ll go get him.”

  When Crockett returned to the waiting area with Nudge in the carrier, Sissy was holding open the door to the exam rooms in the rear of the building.

  “It’s, like, the third room on the left,” she said. “Just, you know, go right in.”

  Waiting on the other side of a stainless steel exam table were Ruby and Andy. They seemed to be getting along well. Crockett put the carrier down, its rear facing them.

  “Well,” Andy said, a definite tone of disapproval in his voice, “that could be part of your problem. Felines need a secure, enclosed environment in times of stress. Your carrier is qui
te large for a cat.”

  He moved to Crockett’s side of the table, opened the carrier door and peeked inside. Peering back at him, out of the gloom, was a cantaloupe with yellow eyes.

  “Myrphhh?” Nudge inquired.

  “Jesus Christ!” Andy said, taking a quick step backwards.

  “That size carrier works pretty well for him,” Crockett said, as Ruby stifled a snort.

  “H-how much does that cat weigh?” Andy asked, his voice rising in pitch.

  “I dunno. I’ve never weighed him. Over thirty pounds for sure.”

  “I’ll be right back,” the vet blurted, and bolted from the room.

  Crockett grinned at Ruby. “Looks like Nudge impressed him even more than you did,” he said.

  Ruby chuckled. “Wait’ll I stretch out on the table, purr, and start licking my tummy,” she said. “He’ll fold.”

  Nudge stuck his head out of the carrier and looked around, then stepped out onto the table and did that back-hump thing cats do to get the kinks out. Andy came back in the room lugging a flat scale about two by three feet. He placed it on a countertop and Crockett lifted the unresisting cat aboard. The digital read-out beeped and settled on 37.8 pounds.

  “My lord,” Andy breathed. “Almost thirty-eight pounds! A common housecat! Oh, there are heavier cats, but they’re hugely fat! Nudge doesn’t seem to be overweight. What do you feed him?”

  “Any of the better cat-kibble brands that are on sale at the grocery, a can of tuna from time to time and a bite of whatever I’m having if he begs for it. A little cappuccino now and then. He loves the foam.”

  “Do you mind if I get a photo of the two of you? I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “When we come back for the check-up, you can do whatever you like,” Crockett said, lifting Nudge back to the exam table. “Right now we really need to get back on the road as soon as possible.”

  “Of course,” Andy replied. “How is he at taking pills?”

  “Got me. As far as I know, he’s never taken one.”

  A worried look flickered across the pale man’s face.

  “I see,” he said. “Sissy!” he shouted into the hall, “would you bring the medication please?”

  Andy stroked Nudge on the cheek, a familiarity Nudge tolerated surprisingly well, and turned to Crockett.

  “Usually,” he said, “we give a cat a quarter of one of these pills. This cat, however, will require the whole thing.”

  At that moment, Sissy entered the small room with the medication and saw Nudge.

  “Shit!” she said.

  It didn’t go well. The first encounter consisted of the doctor attempting to both stretch and restrain Nudge, as Sissy forced his jaw open to place the pill well down his throat with the aid of a hemostat. Nudge ripped the instrument from the girl’s trembling hand with his teeth, spit it and the pill it held on the floor, and sank his fang to the bone in the poor vet’s forearm, just above the wrist.

  “Goddammit!” Andy shrieked, releasing the cat and hopping about the room, flinging droplets of blood on the walls.

  Nudge sat quietly, slowly lashing his tail and blinking at Crockett. Andy and Sissy both left the room to attend to his wound.

  Ruby smiled. “Cats one, people nothing,” she said, scratching Nudge behind his full-sized ear.

  Crockett shook his head. “This could get ugly.”

  Ruby chuckled. “Just a little light relief,” she said.

  Round two began with Sissy and a freshly bandaged Andy returning to the room, sporting two large towels. Andy looked at Crockett.

  “We need to wrap him,” he said. “Perhaps you’d help.”

  Nudge offered no resistance whatsoever, allowing the vet and Crockett to bind him in the towels from neck to tail.

  “That’ll do it,” Andy said, rather smugly.

  Crockett looked skeptical. “If I were you,” he said, “I’d put another towel or two around him.”

  “This is fine,” Andy replied, partially laying down on the cat and grasping him firmly across the chest.

  As Sissy, with a freshly loaded hemostat in hand, approached the pair, the vet forced Nudge’s mouth open and held his head rock steady. When Sissy began to insert the pill, Nudge, sounding a great deal like a bobcat, rotated his body inside the towels, ripped the covering out of the way, and shredded the vet’s left forearm with three or four rips extending from the inside of the wrist almost to the elbow.

  “Sonofabitch!” Andy keened, flinging himself off the cat and into the counter, knocking the heavy scale to the floor.

  “Motherfucker!” he went on, hopping about the room as he frantically attempted to bind his bleeding member in one of the now discarded towels.

  “Cocksucker!!” he continued, careening through the door and down the hall out of sight, a blood trail splattering in his wake.

  “Uh…I got to, like, uh…you know,” commented Sissy, and persued the bleeding man from the room.

  Ruby smiled serenely. “That went well,” she said, looking at Nudge where he sat, cleaning his claws.

  “I think we’ve probably worn out our welcome,” Crockett said.

  Ruby picked up the bottle of pills and dropped a fifty on the exam table. “Load the cat,” she said. “Let’s get outa here before they form a posse.”

  By the time they’d traveled two more blocks, Nudge was in full voice and Ruby asked Crockett to stop. She gave Nudge a minute to settle down, then opened the carrier. He walked out and looked at her.

  “How’s my wittle Nudgie-man?” she cooed, sitting on the floor and leaning on the seat of the couch. “Did him not like that nasty, nasty doctor? Wrapping my Nudgie-Wudgie up in a bunch of old towels. C’mere, Nudgie.”

  Nudge, doing that swishy kind of walk that cats do when they’re sensually enthralled, head-bumped her chin. His purr reverberated throughout the entire coach.

  “But my wittle Nudgie has to take him’s pills,” Ruby went on, wallowing in baby-talk, and opening the bottle. “’Cause if him doesn’t take him’s pills, him’s gonna be sick!”

  Nudge fell to his side and began to pat her face with his paws.

  “So, Aunt Ruby’s gonna put this wittle pill in Nudgie-Wudgie’s wittle mouth and push it down his sweet wittle throat, and him’s just gonna swallow it right down, isn’t him, Baby?” Ruby went on. “And if the Nudge-man should be a bad baby boy and bite Aunt Ruby, Aunt Ruby will rip his wittle-kittle head off and throw it right out into the fucking middle of the nasty old street. Yes, she will! Okay, Nudgie-Wudgie? Is that alright wif you, my baby Nudge-Man?”

  There was a quick flash of movement, Nudge flinched and sat up, then shook his head and fell back on his side for more attention from Ruby.

  “Damn!” Crockett said. “Beautiful. He’d de-bone me if I tried something like that.”

  Ruby stood up, walked to Crockett, and kissed him gently on the cheek.

  “I still got it, Crocket,” she murmured. “It’s like I’ve always said. A woman can get a pussy to do things it would be folly for a man to even attempt.”

  For more on David R. Lewis and his novels visit

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