Megabat and Fancy Cat

by Anna Humphrey

  “Huh, how goes it?” Megabat muttered. He turned the little pot around looking for a pull-tab or something, but Daniel mistook his question for interest in the cat.

  “It doesn’t mean that she’s made of bread or anything,” he explained, holding out the treat. “Purebred means both her parents were the same breed of cat. Chocolate seal point Birmans. With beautiful markings on their faces and pure-white paws, just like hers.”

  Megabat abandoned the paint pot and shuffled to the edge of the table just in time to see the cat poke her nose out from beneath the buffet to smell the treat, then catch sight of Daniel and disappear again.

  Megabat straightened his back and ruffled his wings importantly.

  “Interestingly, mine is being purebred also,” he announced.

  “No you’re not!” Daniel laughed. That hurt Megabat’s feelings.

  “Mine is!” he insisted. “Both Megabats’s parents was bats.”

  “Where’s your certificate, then?” Daniel asked. “Priscilla came with a certificate from a breeder. Mrs. Cormier showed Mom. It has a gold seal on it and everything.”

  Megabat didn’t have a certificate or a gold seal, or even know exactly what those things were. He gave a little huff and busied himself with the paint pots again. After getting orange open, he managed to do green, blue and purple without much trouble.

  When he was done, he pushed the steam engine into the center of the table and cleared his throat to let Daniel know it was time to begin.

  “One sec, okay?” Daniel said over his shoulder. “I’m just going to open some canned tuna. Maybe that will get her out. Cats love tuna.”

  Daniel dropped the cat treat he’d been holding on the floor and left the rest of the bag on the table. He disappeared into the kitchen.

  Megabat loved treats, so he teetered over and sounded out the words on the side of the bag. F-ish Bit-ees. He tilted the package, sniffed, then gagged.

  The small brown lumps inside looked like beetle dung, but smelled worse. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to eat one…but just then Priscilla’s whiskers poked out, followed by her whole head. She glanced both ways to make sure no one was around. Then her nose began to dance as she crouched low and inched across the floor toward the treat Daniel had left behind.

  When she reached it, she crunched the lump hungrily, and as she ate, Megabat studied her from above. Sure, the cat was soft, but she was kind of lumpy in places—especially around the back. And he couldn’t understand the big deal about the markings Daniel had talked about. They were just brown smudges.

  That was what gave him the idea.

  Working quietly, so as to surprise Daniel, Megabat picked up a brush and dipped it into the pot of red paint. He made a big arc across his furry stomach, then added a swipe of orange, followed by purple, green and blue until a nighttime rainbow stood out brightly against his black fur. He definitely looked fancy now, but there was something missing.

  Stars, of course. Nothing was fancier than stars!

  Megabat dipped one talon and then the other into the little pot of gold paint and pressed them all over his wings to make sparkling patches. He added one last star on his nose—the biggest, brightest of all.

  “Ta-daaaaaah!” he sang, but Daniel was still in the kitchen.

  “Just a sec,” his friend called back. “Almost done.”

  Meanwhile, the startled cat froze on the spot. She looked up at Megabat. Her muscles tensed. Her eyes grew round and shiny as marbles.

  “What does yours wanting?” Megabat asked. But, of course, the cat didn’t give him a straight answer. She just kept staring.

  Suddenly, it was obvious! Now that he was so beautifully decorated, the brown-splotched cat was sad that she wasn’t the fanciest animal in the house anymore. Well, that was hardly his fault!

  “Yes, yes.” Megabat strutted to the other end of the table. “Megabat is gorgeous and yours is regular.”

  As if confirming how badly she wanted to be pretty like him, Priscilla looked up at the table and gave a soft, plaintive miew.

  Megabat sighed. He couldn’t help it. He felt a little bit bad for her. “Oka-hay, fine. Mine will giving yours one decoration.”

  He picked up the blue paint pot and went to drizzle a splotch onto her tail, but the cat dodged him. Perhaps she didn’t understand that staying still was an important part of getting painted.

  “Aha!” Megabat said. “Mine knows what will make yours stay non-moving.” He held his breath against the stink, then pushed over the bag of cat treats that was sitting beside him. A big pile fell to the floor, and once the cat was hunched over eating, Megabat was able to get to work.

  Mostly blue. Next purple. Finally, a few bright dashes of yellow. The colors made the cat look like the peacock he’d seen with Daniel at the zoo once—a huge improvement. But instead of thanking him, as soon as Priscilla had finished her fish bites, she began to turn in frantic circles.

  “Stopping that!” Megabat shouted. “Yours will ruining the decorations before they dries!”

  “What’s going on?” Daniel came back into the room. “Megabat! Why is the cat blue?” He made a grab for Priscilla, but she dashed right past him toward the safety of the buffet, leaving paint marks behind on his pants.

  “I prettied her while she eated stink bites,” Megabat explained. “And looking! Ta-daaaaaah!” He stuck out his tummy and unfurled his wings to give Daniel the full night-sky effect.

  But instead of marveling at the twinkliness of the stars, admiring the cheerfulness of the rainbow, and saying how gorgeous and clever Megabat was, Daniel gasped.

  “Megabat!” he said. “What were you thinking?”

  THE PLAN

  When Daniel’s mother got home from the store, she was not happy about the colorful cat or the empty treat bag.

  “Daniel J. Misumi. Why on earth would you let Priscilla play in your paints?” She crossed her arms and pinched her lips. “And a whole bag of treats? She’ll get sick to her stomach! Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” But Daniel couldn’t very well explain that a talking fruit bat had painted and fed the cat.

  “No video games for the rest of the weekend,” Daniel’s mom said.

  “But—” Daniel started. His mother silenced him with a look, then pulled a yowling, hissing Priscilla out from under the buffet, wrapped her in an old towel and went to run her a bath.

  “Sheesh,” Megabat said, once they’d heard Daniel’s mother stomp up the last of the stairs. “Most cranky.” But instead of agreeing, Daniel marched across the kitchen and threw open the back door.

  “Out!” he said.

  “But—” Megabat began. Daniel copied his mother’s pinched lips.

  Well, two could play at that game. “Hmmph.” Megabat crossed his star-covered wings over his rainbow tummy. “Mine was leaving anyway.” Then he flew out without so much as a “seeing you later.”

  As he swooped across the yard, Megabat spotted Birdgirl pacing back and forth in the snow. “Yours will not be believing about that no-good trubble cat now,” he announced as he landed beside her, but before he could properly launch into his tale of grave injustice, he noticed the devastated look on Birdgirl’s face. She bobbed her head toward the largest of her squirrel decoys.

  Megabat gasped. Attached to the closest statue’s face, below its egg carton eyes and above its pine needle fangs, was a silly mustache made of dried grass. One of the smaller decoys had been knocked right over, and another wore a goofy pointed hat made of twigs.

  There was a maniacal chattering in the trees above them. Megabat and Birdgirl looked up to see two puffer rats leaning over a branch. Their tails were twitching menacingly.

  “Shoo!” Megabat yelled at the fat gray one. “Getting lost!” he said to the black one with the scraggly tail.

  But instead of leaving, the squirrels stood up on their hind legs and tapped their little paws together—a lot like how Daniel and his friend Talia high-fived each other when they passed a new level in
their favorite video game.

  “SKOOCH!” Megabat yelled. For such a small bat, he could have a surprisingly big voice. The squirrels retreated to a higher branch, but not before the gray one turned to waggle its bum at them rudely.

  Birdgirl pulled the mustache off her decoy and pecked at the ground miserably. All the puffer rats had left behind were a few empty sunflower seed shells.

  “Mine’s sorry.” Megabat wrapped one wing over Birdgirl to hug her, forgetting for a moment about his starry wings.

  “Coo-woo?” Birdgirl asked when she noticed the sticky spots that had transferred to her own feathers.

  “Oh yes! Ta-daaaaaah!” Megabat unfurled his magnificent wings to show her.

  Birdgirl gave an appreciative coo-woo. She circled around him to get a better look.

  “Thanking yours,” Megabat said. At least someone liked his decorations. Daniel certainly didn’t seem to like anything he did anymore. Not since that no-good, ruins-everything, hides-all-the-time cat had arrived.

  He wished Daniel’s family would just get rid of her…the same way they’d done a big clean-out that fall and gotten rid of the old blue cabinet that stuck out too far from the wall and the sewing machine that only worked sometimes.

  Megabat had an idea! “Birdgirl! Coming here!”

  “Coo-woo,” she said, once he’d finished whispering in her ear. Suddenly, Megabat felt much better. With his brilliant plan and Birdgirl at his side, that cat would be gone in no time.

  “And now,” Megabat said, “about those rotten puffer rats…”

  SO-NICE CAT FOR SALE

  The bat and the pigeon worked all afternoon setting up their state-of-the-art squirrel repellent system, but they had to wait until the sun went down to put Megabat’s no-more-cat plan into action.

  “In any minute,” Megabat whispered. The pair was perched on top of the porch light. Almost on cue, the back door opened and Daniel’s father stepped out holding a bag of garbage.

  Megabat nudged Birdgirl and pointed down with his foot. She understood perfectly. With one smooth swipe of her wing, she pushed the snow off the top of the doorframe.

  “Whaaaaa!?” Daniel’s father shouted as the snow hit him in the back of the neck and slid down his bathrobe. He did a hopping dance, trying to shake it out. Here was their chance! Silent as shadows, Megabat and Birdgirl swooped through the open door and into the house.

  Birdgirl—who wasn’t usually allowed inside—followed Megabat through the kitchen, past the darkened dining room and into the living room. Megabat landed on the computer desk in the far corner. So far, so good. Only, when he looked around, Birdgirl was gone.

  “Coo-woo!”

  It took him a second to figure out why.

  “Birdgirl!” he whispered. The pigeon had been distracted by the little shelf over the fireplace. Megabat couldn’t exactly blame her. It was his favorite part of the living room too, especially since Daniel’s mother had set it up to look like a tiny Christmas village, complete with fake snow and small houses that lit up from the inside. The village wasn’t what had the pigeon’s attention, though. She was busy looking at herself in the mirror over the mantel.

  She tilted her head this way and that, as if trying to catch her own best angle, then pecked at her reflection and preened her feathers before admiring herself again.

  There was no denying it: Birdgirl was a pretty pigeon. But they didn’t have time for preening!

  “La-la-la-la, pa-rump-a-pum-pummm.” Daniel’s father had already come back from garbage duty. He was walking through the house, singing and switching off lights. Any second now he’d pass through the living room on his way upstairs.

  “Birdgirl!” Megabat whispered again.

  At the sound of his voice, Priscilla, who’d been hiding underneath the big armchair, emerged. Megabat saw the cat’s eyes lock onto the pigeon. She crept along, low to the ground. Her big, fluffy tail twitched this way and that. When she reached the floor near the mantelpiece, her back end began to wiggle in preparation for a pounce.

  “Oh no. Don’t yours dare!” Megabat said firmly. He’d seen cats hunt birds and squirrels in the yard before. He knew all too well what she had in mind.

  “The drum-mer boy blah-blah,” sang Daniel’s dad, getting closer. “Pa-rump-a-pum-pummmm.”

  Megabat had no time to lose. He swooped onto the mantel to protect his beloved. “Birdgirl is not being a cat snack!” he muttered as he flew. He expected to land softly on the blanket of pretend snow, somewhere between the tiny library and the little post office, but he didn’t know about the electrical wires hidden underneath. One of them caught in his foot as he came to a skidding stop, and the entire village shifted, as if it had been rocked by an earthquake.

  Birdgirl took off into the air as miniature streetlights toppled, houses collided and a ceramic snowman went flying off the edge and shattered on the floor, right next to where Priscilla was sitting.

  “Huh?” Daniel’s dad said. His footsteps had stopped in the dining room.

  “Hiding!” Megabat gasped.

  Seconds later, Daniel’s dad came into the living room and took in the scene: the broken snowman, the shaken village and the startled cat who was dashing back underneath the armchair. Fortunately, he completely missed Megabat, who had hopped into a small wooden sleigh and borrowed a hat from a nearby Santa doll as a disguise.

  “You!” Daniel’s father said accusingly to the cat.

  Daniel’s mother ran down the stairs. “Oh no,” she said. “What did she break now?”

  “Your favorite snowman,” he reported.

  Daniel’s mother reached under the chair and pulled out the cat. “Bad cat,” she said, tapping Priscilla softly on the nose.

  The cat, who was hanging miserably in Daniel’s mother’s arms, gave Megabat a bewildered look—no doubt disappointed there would be no pigeon treat that night.

  “It’s a good thing you’re family now,” she said. “I suppose we can forgive you one more time.” Then, even though she was angry, she kissed the cat on the top of the head.

  Megabat didn’t dare move a muscle. In fact, he barely breathed for the long minutes it took Daniel’s parents to clean up the broken snowman, turn off the lights and head upstairs carrying the cat.

  “Huh,” Megabat said indignantly, once they’d gone. “Nonefair! When Megabat breakings things, mine’s sent to the cold shed. When hers gets in trubble, hers gets kissy-kisses.”

  There was a rustling in the branches of the Christmas tree as Birdgirl—who had concealed herself between two decorations shaped like peace doves—emerged.

  “Coo-woo,” she said, tilting her head, as if to remind Megabat that, actually, he’d been the one to break the snowman.

  “Yours is missing the pointy.” Megabat sighed. “It’s not being about who brokened the snowman. It’s being about nonefairness. Coming on. Let’s be selling that no-good, bird-hunting cat.” Megabat felt more certain than ever that it was the right thing to do.

  The ingenious plan had come to him when he’d remembered how Daniel’s mother had written a little story on the computer about the blue cabinet and the mostly broken sewing machine. Daniel had written one too, after he’d decided to sell his old bike. Megabat had helped.

  They’d done it by using a special website for selling old stuff.

  The very next day, a man with a van and a lady with a truck came and got the things. And, even better, they’d paid Daniel and his mother money before they took them away! Daniel had used his share to buy a brand-new Lego set for them to play with.

  Writing their ad took all night—with Megabat sounding out the words and tapping the keyboard, and Birdgirl working the mouse—especially because they had to do a few drafts to get it just right.

  Trubble Kat for Sael

  Breakings things. Allweez hiding. No fun.

  Mite eats yer bird.

  $1.00

  Birdgirl had shaken her head. Megabat sighed, but he knew she was right. When Daniel sold his bi
ke, their story didn’t talk about how the bell was rusty and the handlebars jiggled. Instead, they told about its bright red color and how fast it went. Things that were true, with the not-so-good parts left out. He erased the words and started over.

  Trubble Kat for Sael

  Meedium sized. Freshlee washed.

  Eats stink treets. Tastes hairee.

  $1.00

  The new story was definitely better, but according to Birdgirl, it still wasn’t good enough. Megabat grumbled as he hit Delete, but even he had to admit that the third story was sure to sell the cat—even if the last bit wasn’t exactly true.

  Purdy Trubble Kat for Sael

  Fluffee. Fancee. Pure of bread.

  So nice.

  $1.00

  Finally, just as the sun was coming up, they hit the Publish button. Then they waited by the door. When Daniel’s mother went out for the morning paper, Megabat and Birdgirl made their escape and went back to roost in the shed after a job well done.

  MRS. CORMIER

  The next morning, Birdgirl and Megabat awoke to the familiar sounds of Daniel’s mom tossing handfuls of birdseed onto the lawn and then closing the back door.

  Megabat flew over to hang from the top of the shed window. “Birdgirl!” he called excitedly. “It’s being time!”

  Birdgirl swooped out of the shed and went to perch in the big tree. Megabat saw her land on an upper branch. They both watched the puffer rats dash toward the seed pile. The fat gray one rubbed its front paws together greedily while the scraggle-tailed black one started stuffing its cheeks. Three of their rat friends joined them as well.