Final Ride

by Nic Saint

  Her kids, for instance, could probably love her more for all the sacrifices she had made. For one thing, they’d pretty much ruined her figure. After the twins were born, something strange but not very wonderful had happened to her hips. They’d never looked the same again. And when she saw what breastfeeding did to her boobs, she’d vowed never to fall into that horrible trap again.

  She now carefully tucked her golden tresses beneath the pink shower cap, wrapped the white towel embroidered with her company’s crest—a nicely rendered tiara—around her perfectly toned and tanned body, and stepped into the sauna cabin. She had the cabin installed only six months ago as a special treat to herself when donna.vip, the lifestyle website she’d launched a decade ago, had topped 200 million in revenue.

  She languidly stretched out on the authentic Finnish wood bench, took a sip from her flute of Moët & Chandon Dom Perignon, and closed her eyes. She’d just done a conference call with her CEO and now it was time to relax. Later today she had a session with her private fitness coach scheduled, and to top it all off she was going to treat herself to a healing massage as well. Time to get pampered!

  And she’d just reached that slightly drowsy state she enjoyed so much when a soft clanking sound attracted her attention. She opened her eyes and saw through the slight haze that filled the cabin that there was someone moving about outside.

  She frowned, wondering who it could be. Her housekeeper Jackie wasn’t coming in until ten, and the rest of the staff knew better than to intrude on her alone time. It was hard to make out the person’s face, as the one small window was all steamed up. With a grunt of annoyance she got up and wiped her hand across the glass to look out. And that’s when she noticed something very disturbing: the person was wearing a mask of some kind. One of those silly Halloween masks.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she called out.

  But the intruder just stood there, unmoving, staring at her through the black mask that covered his or her entire face.

  “Who are you?” she asked. “Answer me at once!”

  When the person didn’t respond, she shook her head and took a firm grip on the wood door handle, giving it a good yank. The door didn’t budge. She tried again, knowing that these sauna doors could be sticky, but to no avail. And that’s when she saw that someone—presumably the masked person outside—had stuck a long object through the door’s handle, blocking it. It was her long handle loofah, the one she’d intended to take into the sauna with her.

  “Hey! This isn’t funny!” she cried, tapping the pane furiously. “Open this door right now!”

  And that’s when the masked figure reacted for the first time by raising a hand and pointing a finger at her, cocking their thumb and making a shooting gesture. And in that exact moment, she became aware of an odd sound that seemed to come from somewhere above her head. A buzzing sound. She looked up in alarm, and when she saw the first dozen bees streaming into the sauna cabin, she uttered a cry of shock and fear.

  She rapped the window again, more frantic this time. “Let me out! Why are you doing this to me?! Just let me out of here!”

  More bees fluttered into the cramped space and soon started filling it. There must have been hundreds, or maybe even thousands! And as they descended upon her, she felt the first stings. She started swatting them away with her towel, but there were too many of them, and for some reason they seemed drawn to her, whipped into a frenzy by some unknown cause. And as she stumbled and fell, desperately flapping her hands in a bid to get rid of the pesky insects, she soon succumbed. Her final thought, before she lost consciousness was, “Why me?!”

  Chapter One

  Having spent most of the night outside, looking up at the stars and commenting to Dooley on their curious shape, attending a meeting of cat choir in the nearby Hampton Cove Park, and generally contemplating the state of the world and my place in it, I was ready to perform my daily duty and make sure my human Odelia Poole got a bright and early start on her day. I do this by jumping up onto her bed, plodding across Odelia’s sleeping form, and finally kneading her arm until she wakes up and gives me a cuddle. This has been our morning ritual since just about forever.

  When I finally reached the top of the stairs, slightly winded, a pleasant sound emanating from the bedroom filled me with a warm and fuzzy feeling of benevolence: Odelia was softly snoring, indicating she was in urgent need of a wake-up catcall. So I padded over, and jumped up onto the foot of the bed. At least, that was my intention, only for some reason I must have misjudged the distance, for instead of landing on all fours on the bed, I landed on my butt on the bedside rug.

  I shook my head, happy that no one saw me in this awkward position. With a slight shrug of the shoulders, I decided to try again. This time the result was even worse. I never even cleared the bed frame, let alone the mattress or the comforter. Like an Olympic pole vaulter who discovers he’s lost the ability, I suddenly found myself facing a new and horrifying reality: I couldn’t jump anymore!

  “Hey, Max,” a familiar voice sounded behind me. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing, Dooley?” I grumbled. “I’m trying to jump into bed!”

  He paused, then asked, “So why are you still on the floor?”

  “Because…” I stared up at the bed, which all of a sudden had turned into an insurmountable obstacle for some reason. “Actually I don’t know what’s going on. The bed just seems higher now.”

  “A sudden weakness,” Dooley decided knowingly. “It happens to me all the time.”

  “Well, it doesn’t happen to me,” I said, scratching my head. Yes, cats scratch their heads. We just make sure we retract our claws, otherwise it would be a fine mess.

  “You probably need food. Did you have breakfast? When I don’t have my breakfast I feel weak. Do you feel weak?”

  I gave him my best scowl. “I feel fine. And for your information, yes, I did have my breakfast. The best kibble money can buy and a nice chunk of chicken and liver paté.”

  “Wow, what happened?”

  “What do you mean, what happened?”

  “I thought Odelia only got you the cheap stuff? Why did she go out and splurge all of a sudden?”

  “I guess she felt I deserved it. I have been helping her solve murder case after murder case lately.”

  “Me too, but I didn’t get any special treats.”

  “You have to file your complaint with Gran, Dooley. She is your human, after all.”

  Dooley’s Ragamuffin face sagged. “Gran has been too busy to notice me lately.”

  “Too busy? Why, what’s she been up to?”

  “Beats me. She’s been receiving packages in the mail. A lot of them. In fact Marge and Tex are pretty much fed up with her. Seems like they’re the ones who have to pay for all those packages.”

  Perhaps now would be a good time to make some introductions, especially for the people who haven’t been following my adventures closely. My name is Max, as you have probably deduced, and I’m something of a private cat sleuth. Since Odelia is a reporter and always in need of fresh and juicy stories, I’m only too happy to supply them. My frequent collaborator on these outings is Dooley, my best friend and neighbor. Dooley’s human is Vesta Muffin, Odelia’s grandmother who lives next door. Dooley is my wingcat. My partner in crime. Between you and me, Dooley is not exactly the brightest bulb in the bulb shop, so it’s a good thing he’s got me. I’m smart enough for the both of us.

  “Why don’t I give you a paw up?” Dooley asked now.

  “I don’t know…” I muttered. I glanced behind Dooley, making sure he was alone. If we were going to do this, I didn’t want there to be any witnesses.

  Dooley followed my gaze. “What are you looking at?” Then he got it. “Oh, if you’re looking for Harriet, she was fast asleep in Brutus’s paws. Those two must have had a rough night.”

  My face clouded. Being reminded of Brutus usually has a souring effect on my mood. You see, Brutus is what
us cats call an intruder. He came waltzing into our lives a couple of weeks ago and has refused to leave ever since. He belongs to Chase Kingsley, a cop Odelia has taken a liking to, but seems to spend an awful lot of time next door, cozying up to Harriet, Odelia’s mom’s white Persian.

  I made up my mind. “Let’s do this,” I grunted. If we didn’t, Odelia might wake up of her own accord, and I’d miss my window of opportunity to put in some much-needed snuggle time.

  Dooley padded up to me and plunked down on his haunches. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Simple. I jump and you give me a boost.”

  “You mean, like, on the count of three or something?”

  “Or something.” I got ready, poised at the foot of the bed and said, “One—two—”

  “Wait,” Dooley said. “Are we doing this on three or after three?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do I boost you on three, or right after?”

  “Why would you boost me right after? The count of three usually means the count of three, Dooley.”

  “So, one, two, three and boost? Or one, two, three, pause, and then boost?”

  “One, two, three, boost,” I said, starting to lose my patience. “Now, are we doing this or not?”

  He thought about this for a moment, a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to do this?”

  “Of course I want to do this! Preferably before we die of old age.”

  Dooley’s eyes went wide. “Die of old age? Do you think we’re dying, Max?!”

  “No, we’re not dying! I just want to put in some snuggle time, is that so hard to understand?”

  “Oh, right,” he said, understanding dawning. “I thought you said we were dying.”

  For some reason Dooley has been obsessing about dying lately. Usually I can talk him out of it, but then he sees something on TV and the whole thing starts all over again.

  “Are you ready?”

  Dooley nodded. “I’m ready, Max.”

  “One—two—”

  “Wait!”

  I groaned. “What is it now?”

  “Where do I boost you?”

  “Up the bed! Where else?”

  “No, I mean, do I boost your butt or your hind paws or what? I’m new to this boosting business,” he explained apologetically.

  “It’s not exactly an Olympic discipline, Dooley. There are no rules. You can boost me wherever you want.” On second thought… “Though stay away from my butt.”

  “Right. Stay away from your butt. So where…”

  “Anywhere but my butt! Now one—two—”

  “Max!”

  “What?!”

  “What if I boost you too hard and you end up flying across the bed and down the other side?”

  I fixed him with a hard look. “Trust me, Dooley, the chances of that happening are slim to none. I mean, look at us. I’m like the Dwayne Johnson of cats and you’re more like Andrew Garfield in Hacksaw Ridge, all scrawny and mangy. You’ll be lucky if you can boost me a couple inches, which is all I need,” I hastened to add.

  “Do you think I’m too mangy?” asked Dooley with a frown.

  “Not too mangy. You’re just thin is all. A very healthy thin.”

  “Not a sickly thin? Like an I’m-about-to-die thin?”

  Oh, God. I did not need this aggravation. “Absolutely not. More like a my-name-is-Gwyneth-Paltrow-and-I’m-willowy-and-gorgeous kind of thin.”

  “I thought you said I looked like Andrew Garfield?”

  “In a very Gwyneth Paltrow-y way.”

  This seemed to please him, as he gave me a grateful smile. “Why, thanks, Max. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Great. Now about that boost?”

  “Oh! Right! I forgot all about that.”

  “Focus, Dooley. Now, are you ready?”

  “Ready,” he said, his face a study in concentration.

  “One—two—three—”

  “Boost!” he cried and placed both paws on my butt, giving me a mighty shove.

  And… we had liftoff! Only it didn’t last very long, nor did it carry me where I was aiming to go. Instead, I plunked right back down again, landing on top of Dooley, who ended up squeezed beneath my sizable buns.

  There was a momentary pause, while we both figured out what went wrong, then Dooley croaked, “Can you please lift your butt, Max? You’re choking me!”

  Applause broke out behind us, and a loud cackling sound, and when I looked up, I saw we’d been joined by Harriet and Brutus. The latter was applauding, a Draco Malfoy-type sneer on his mug, and Harriet was doing the cackling, apparently finding the whole scene hilarious.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked with an angry look at the newly arrived.

  “You!” Brutus cried. “You’re so fat you can’t even jump on the bed!”

  “I’m not fat! I’m just… experiencing some issues with my takeoff.”

  “Issues with your takeoff! You’re not an airplane, Max. You’re a cat. A cat too fat to fly!” Harriet dissolved into giggles while Brutus was laughing so hard his belly shook.

  “Max!” Dooley breathed. “You’re… choking… me…”

  I released Dooley by lifting my butt, then resumed my scowling. “I’m not fat—I’m big-boned. There’s a difference. And Odelia probably bought a new bed, that’s all. I never had any trouble jumping into the old bed, which was still here yesterday morning. Isn’t that right Dooley?”

  But Dooley was still catching his breath, taking big gulps of it.

  “That’s the exact same bed as always,” said Brutus. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Girlfriend stealer.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again.”

  Brutus had walked up to me and poked my chest with his paw. “You kissed my girlfriend, Max. I saw you so don’t try to deny it.”

  “I didn’t kiss anyone! She kissed me!”

  “That’s what you say.”

  “Because that’s what happened!”

  He leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I thought we had an understanding, Max. I thought you and I were friends. And then you went and did a thing like that.” He pursed his lips. “You’re despicable. There’s no other word for it.”

  “I didn’t kiss her,” I hissed. “She kissed me. I’m not even interested in Harriet!”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Harriet asked with a laugh.

  “Nothing, honey bunch,” said Brutus in his sweetest voice. “Just clearing up some stuff.”

  “Max is right, Brutus,” Dooley loud-whispered. “Harriet kissed him, not the other way around. And he didn’t even like it, did you, Max?” These last words were spoken with a look of reproach in my direction. Dooley has always fancied Harriet, and he cannot grasp being kissed by that divine feline and not enjoying the experience.

  “I heard you,” said Harriet, tripping up deftly. “And for your information, I didn’t kiss Max.”

  “See?!” Brutus exclaimed triumphantly.

  “My Inner Goddess did.”

  “What?!”

  Harriet raised her chin defiantly. “I can’t be held responsible for every little thing my Inner Goddess does, Brutus. Sometimes she wears a blindfold. I thought I was kissing you, actually. I only realized my mistake when I reached out and the only thing my paw met was a yielding fluffiness where rock-hard muscles should have been.”

  Brutus stared at her. “Go on.”

  She placed a paw on his chest and closed her eyes. “See, now that I’m feeling your steely pecs I know it’s you. That was my mistake. I kissed first and touched later.”

  I groaned loudly. “Yielding fluffiness?!”

  “Shut up, Max,” said Brutus. “Watch and learn.”

  And then the two of them locked lips. Instinctively I held up a paw to cover Dooley’s eyes. He did not have to see this. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, for he didn’t slap my paw away. He only asked, when the smooching sounds finally abated, “Is it over yet?�
��

  “Yes, it is,” I said, lowering my paw. Harriet had kissed me, no doubt about it, but if it made her feel better to lie to both herself and to Brutus, it was fine by me. I didn’t need Brutus going back to his old bullying ways. This détente we had going for us suited me fine, so I was happy when finally the kissing stopped and Brutus slapped me on the back.

  “And that’s how you do it, buddy!”

  “Great,” I muttered. “Now, can you give me a boost? I need to wake up Odelia.”

  “Sure thing,” said Brutus, suddenly in an expansive mood. And as I got ready to take the leap again, he got into position directly behind me, not unlike a running back. And before I could initiate the launch sequence, Brutus was shouting, “Hut one—hut two—hut three—go!”

  I made the mighty jump and… “Owowowow!” Brutus, instead of giving me a regular boost, had dug his nails into my behind! The result was that I flew up onto the bed and landed right on top of Odelia’s sleeping form, and it wasn’t a soft landing either.

  “Ooph!” Odelia grunted, when a flying blorange obstacle landed squarely on her stomach. She stared down at me. “Max! Where’s the fire?!”

  I gave her a sheepish look. “Wakey-wakey.”

  I directed a scathing look at Brutus, who gave me a grin. “See, Max? I knew you could do it!”

  Chapter Two

  “So then Brutus gave me a boost and that’s how I ended up on your stomach,” I finished my account of the recent events.

  Odelia, who’s blond and petite with the most strikingly green eyes, tied the sash of her bathrobe and gave me a worried look. “I better make that appointment with Vena. I knew I should never have put it off.”

  My eyes widened to the size of saucers, which for us cats is considerable, since our eyes are a lot smaller than a human’s eyes to begin with. “Not Vena!”

  “Yes, Vena. With everything that’s been going on I totally forgot to make a new appointment but it’s obvious now that she was right all along.” She placed a comforting hand on my head. “You’re overweight, Max. Totally overweight, and I’ve got no one else to blame but myself.”