Bad Girl School

by Red Q. Arthur

  “No doubt. In a word, it holds that the Earth is a system of interrelated parts. Humans and plants and animals— even canines— are all part of that system. And Gaia must have a network of protection, the same as God does. That is, if you believe in God.”

  I nodded, just to show I was following.

  “Angels are heavenly guardians. And cats are planet guardians. All cats. The Alpha Beast is the Supreme Commander of the Feline Guard.” I was completely speechless. “Every cat in the world is under my command. The Egyptians knew about us, of course, but they got it slightly wrong. They thought we were gods.”

  I think I may have snorted.

  “You may also have heard us called witches’ familiars.”

  Now that sounded more like it.

  “Witches are part of the protection system too— rather like super-heroes, but not nearly so advanced. We work closely with them and indeed some of them are guardians— planet guardians exist in many species. But the only beings who have yet developed unusual powers are feline— the Alpha Beasts down through the ages.”

  “Do tell,” I remarked, but that animal simply could not recognize sarcasm. He was on some kind of kitty roll.

  “There is only one Alpha Beast on any continent at any given time, and it’s a very long time. In fact, its existence gave rise to the primitive notion that a cat has nine lives. The Alpha Beast has not nine, but 999,999 lives, of which he uses 999 per year. He needs every single one and does not expend them carelessly.”

  “You’re telling me you’re immortal?”

  He rose to a sitting position— Cat Position Two, I thought, Egyptian Temple Cat. “Not exactly. But I’m not exactly mortal, either.”

  “Hoo boy.” He was seriously unbalanced. “So what does His Kittyship find to do for a thousand and one years?”

  “I really thought you’d never ask. But since you did— the Alpha Beast is the avenger of the Guard, the executioner, and the dispenser of punishment, but also the first line of defense in times of danger— he is a ninja for Gaia, so to speak. When the planet is threatened, he is often expected to carry out certain special missions.”

  “Using your ‘unusual powers,’ I suppose. What powers, exactly, might we be talking about?”

  “Well, we’re talking, aren’t we?” he said, “I’d call that a trifle unusual.”

  “So what else?”

  He grabbed my wrist with his tail. “Then there’s this one.” Startled, I stared at my trapped hand. “And I command troops. Every cat, whether house or wild, tiger or kitten, must obey the Universal Mandate, which means he must relay any intelligence that threatens Gaia (AKA the planet) or the least of the planet’s interconnected parts, to the Alpha Beast. AKA moi.

  “We are able to do field this network because no one notices so ‘insignificant’ a beast as a cat. Perhaps you know the expression ‘fly on the wall’? It may surprise you to learn that the original was ‘cat on the pillow,’ but I myself personally quashed that one. It was far too close to the truth, which is that we are welcome anywhere, from the most squalid hut to the most magnificent palace.”

  “For the simple reason that you’re so adorable.” My voice dripped sarcasm.

  “Exactamento, girl-flesh. We are literally everywhere. And when one of my troops sends intelligence that requires it, it is my duty to formulate a plan, issue orders and act upon it.”

  “Oh, right, Bond. I suppose you have a license to kill.”

  He groomed the fur on his neck. “Actually, it’s more of a mandate. And you must admit I am uniquely equipped for it. Think about it. A cat is the most efficiently designed killing machine on the face of the Earth. Have you ever watched one of us hunt? We stalk; we pounce; we claw, we bite, we disembowel, we do not rest until our prey is brought down. And we enjoy every second of it. You know perfectly well that if a cat were a person, humans would call him a monster.”

  My blood ran slightly cold.

  “The Alpha Beast is actually a kind of super-monster, as ruthless as any other highly trained commando, yet equipped with unusual tricks and talents. I’ve only mentioned a few of them.”

  I was really tired of his bragging. “Excuse me, but didn’t you say something about an assistant? If you’re so all-powerful, why would you need one?”

  For the first time, he sounded regretful. “Alas, the cat has not been born who can open locked doors. And alas again, I can talk to only one human at a time. Sometimes I need a pair of hands. And a mouthpiece.” He stood and stretched, giving me a much needed break. This was starting to get ugly. I had enough trouble without playing “handmaiden” to a monster.

  When he had settled down in his Jabba the Hut Position, he said, “And there’s another ‘alas’ out there somewhere. Alas for me, the current mission is a job for two—you and me; it might as well be written. Why do you think I brought you here?”

  And then I got it. Finally. I remembered how he’d grabbed my hand with his tail and knew I’d seen something like it before— seen him hanging upside down like a monkey. Sure I knew he looked like that cat, but it hadn’t yet sunk in that they really were the same. I mean it was too crazy to handle, right? How would he get from Santa Barbara to Ojai? So I’d just smashed it down. It hadn’t dawned that he’d actually tripped me on purpose.

  “You were at Michelle Zunger’s that night!” I shouted. (Ever so silently.) “You’re the one who screwed up the Big Hit.”

  “Well, aren’t you a quick little study?”

  I was blown away. This animal had ruined my life. He was the next thing to the devil and now he was telling me he was some kind of commando for truth and justice?

  “You are psychotic!”

  “Oh, come on, human. It’s not like there’s nothing in it for you. But something odd’s going on here. You haven’t even asked, ‘why me’.”

  “All right,” I said, sighing heavily. “Why me?”

  “Tell me something. Why do you have those snakes tattooed on your arms?”

  I certainly wasn’t going to tell him the truth. “You know everything,” I said. “You tell me.”

  “Because they are the mark of the Vision Serpent.”

  I gasped. On the one hand, it was gibberish, but on the other, I had had a vision— my dream the night before Dad brought me here— that did involve a snake.

  “The Mayans,” he said, “spilled blood onto paper to invoke the serpent. The serpent showed you a jaguar, did it not?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “The jaguar is the classic shamanic companion, the witch’s spirit guide, so to speak.”

  This was way out of control. The jaguar wasn’t the only cat in the dream. The other one looked a lot like someone I knew.

  His ear twitched and it was almost like a wink. For a moment he reminded me of some debonair con man. “I can help you get what you want.”

  “Well, doesn’t that just suck for you. Because I’m stuck in a place where I’m not even allowed to have anything.” I paused. “And I don’t want anything, anyhow.”

  “Oh, yes, you do.” He let it hang in the air.

  Oh, yes. I did. There was something I wanted so bad it hurt. I knew if I spoke, it was going to start the waterworks, and I was not going to cry in front of this furball.

  “You want your sister to get well.”

  My eyes were swimming. I didn’t know if I could hold it together.

  When he spoke, his voice was much softer, actually containing a hint of a quality remotely resembling gentleness. But only remotely.

  “I can help you with that,” he said.

  I didn’t believe him. I knew he couldn’t help me. Nobody could. Who was I kidding? I was probably hallucinating the whole thing anyhow. I didn’t trust myself to say a word. I mean, to think one.

  “There’s just one thing,” the beast said.

  Okay, that I could deal with. It was what I’d been expecting, the thing that reinforced my faith in the universe as I knew it. “Right, con-cat. Here comes the catch. The part wher
e I become your little servant girl.”

  “You needn’t get so huffy. It’s only for one assignment.”

  “What kind of assignment?”

  “Oh, the usual kind. Save-the-world sort of thing. Shouldn’t be much to it if we work it right.”

  Well! Some bait I could resist— did he think I was six? That I was going to look at him adoringly and say, “Really, Mr. Kitty? Save the world? Me?” Uh-uh. I wasn’t going there. Exasperated, I blurted, “Oh, please. You’re out of your fuzzy little mind.”

  “I’ll take that as an affirmative.”

  “Hold it, here—”

  “You are now my apprentice and my handmaiden. I generally call my students ‘novices’…”

  “That’s what they call nuns.”

  “Oh, really, child. Feel free to conduct your personal life as you see fit. A novice is simply someone new to a discipline.”

  I couldn’t resist mocking him. “A novice is simply someone…”.

  “Very well.” He turned and glided haughtily away, curling that demonic tail like a lasso.

  And leaving me wondering: What the hell was that?

  I was so deep in thought I guess I was in a kind of trance, because I absolutely didn’t hear anyone coming, I just heard, “Watch it, Cotton Candy!” before I collided with Cooper Allingham on his way to the library.

  “Sorry!” I blurted, looking up at him in apology, in fact really looking at him for the first time. He had that kind of beautiful skin that tans very gently and still looks slightly pink. I hadn’t seen that before— all I saw was that awful oily olive. And his hair was brown, but fine and shiny, almost like fur, hair that was so well-nourished it practically glowed. He looked like a kid who ate nothing but vegetables and drank about a gallon of water a day. Not sick at all. Certainly not dying.

  His eyes were a kind of goldy-green, and I was looking right into them. They were amused, and they were soft, not even slightly angry or arrogant, completely belying what came out of his mouth: “The hell you’re sorry, Candilocks. You were dying to talk to me.”

  Which was true in a way— I was both repelled and fascinated by the way he reminded me of Haley. But he couldn’t possibly know that. “You arrogant assweed,” I retorted wittily. “You know what you just did? Turned an apology into an insult. I swear to God you’re the rudest individual I’ve ever met in my life.”

  “I know! I mean, I’m sorry, I just… well I could tell you wanted to talk and…”

  “You could what? I don’t want to talk. I want to leave the building, but I can’t because you’re standing in my way. And why are you calling me names, by the way? Because it’s in your genes to be an asshole? It’s like, congenital?”

  I was furious. I must have been shooting lightning bolts out of my eyes. But out of his came… tears!

  Huh? I’d made the campus douchebag cry?

  He was nodding his head, it seemed, as if actually answering the question, about to say, yeah, it really was genetic, and then, somehow, his chin jerked in mid-nod, like he’d suddenly changed his mind. “The thing about your hair— it was a compliment, you know? I just never thought the Chosen One would have a fro that looked like something you’d buy at a county fair. But, hey, it’s all good. You’re destined.”

  He stepped aside and went ahead into the library, leaving me in even worse shape than the Beast had. Had I misheard something? I could have sworn he’d just said “Chosen One.” Which was something like what the cat said. But I sure as hell wasn’t Buffy, and even if I’d hallucinated the conversation with the monster, how could Cooper have known?

  I was shaking. This was way too much weirdness for one day. The best thing was to go back to my room and pull the covers over my head.

  I scurried swiftly across campus, keeping my head down, trying not to think, just to get through space and time till I’d slipped back into reality as I knew it. I breathed a sigh as I grabbed the doorknob— though I probably should have wondered why the door was closed— and stepped through to safety.

  Whereupon something hit me hard in the shin.

  “Ooof!”

  “Don’t you ever knock?” said Kara. She was sitting on her rumpled-up bed in the lotus position, back as straight as a broomstick. But she didn’t look good. There was something off about her color.

  On the floor, freshly bounced off my shin, was my own Spanish book. This really had to stop. “Kara. I’m your roommate. I know you resent me, but we’re both stuck with it. What can I do to make it better? I really need you not to throw things at me.”

  She unfolded her legs. “I didn’t throw anything.” She was all sulky-voiced, like a kid trying to get out of detention.

  “Right.” I turned away, intent on just lying the hell down, when I realized how bad she really looked. I turned back. “Do you feel all right?”

  She looked at me like I was crazy. “Yeah. Fine. What are you talking about?”

  “I guess it’s nothing.” But here’s what it really was: She was usually the color of French’s mustard with a pinch of Worcestershire; she was now tending towards Dijon.

  I read for awhile, just for escape, while Kara dressed to go somewhere, somewhere other than dinner, apparently, because you had to wear your uniform to the dining room. She hauled out the leather skirt again, probably what she’d been wearing when her dad dumped her here. And when Sonya came to pick her up, she actually spoke in a halfway friendly tone of voice. “See you later. We’re going to our club meeting.”

  “Really?” I was interested, despite myself. “What kind of club?”

  Instead of answering, Kara looked at Sonya, as if in surprise. For a moment, their eyes locked, and then they burst out giggling.

  “You’d be surprised,” Kara tossed back as they went through the door.

  “Yeah, slightly,” Sonya added, and the two of them laughed all the way down the hall. Maybe not at me, exactly, but then it was me who’d asked the stupid question.

  Was it possible to feel any more left out?

  I felt so sad and lonesome I actually missed the cat. And my family— I missed my family so much. Especially Curly. Now there was an animal!

  Which reminded me. Where was my stuffed animal when I needed it, the one frivolous thing they let you have here? My family didn’t love me— couldn’t even be bothered going through the motions. Everybody else in the whole remedial unit had their one stuffed animal, and neither my mom nor my dad had managed to dredge up my old teddy bear and pack it with my clothes. How hard would that have been?

  I needed it so bad! Because there they were again: the four arachnids of the apocalypse. Oh, God, they were so scary I almost wished I hadn’t run Jag off. I covered my head with the sheet and cried; cried because I was about to be chewed to bits; cried because nobody cared about me; cried because I didn’t even have a stupid stuffed bear to feed to the ceiling monsters.

  Jag pounced on the bed. “They do love you, Novice. Why, I couldn’t say. But they seem to.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’ll prove it to you.”

  Could he? I didn’t think so, but he was distracting me. That was good. “Okay, prove it. Work your magic.”

  “Ah, the ‘m’ word. Well, this is a form of scientific magic. Do you partake of science fiction?”

  “I’ve seen a few movies.”

  “Perfect. Think Back to the Future. Time and Time Again. Even The Time Machine. And hang on to my tail.”

  “Not my hat?”

  “Grab it, girlo.”

  I reached for it, but he flicked it away. “One thing— promise you’ll keep quiet.”

  “Okay. Sure.”

  “I mean it; not a sound.”

  “Whatever you say, kittykinx.” Right.

  “I’m trusting you.” The tail flicked into my hand and I gave it a hostile little pull.

  And wished I hadn’t. The world as I knew it dissolved, along with my body, and this ear-splitting noise, like a spaceship taking off, took over the universe. I
was falling, falling, falling, bodiless, into space, and the noise stopped and then there was none at all, only silent, black, terrifying nothingness.

  Worse, it was anything but a smooth fall; it was jerky and it hurt, even without a body. Jag and I jerked and jumbled for what seemed like several centuries, and then there was a terrible grinding, and I was standing in the second floor hall of my own house in Santa Barbara, which has what they call “a great room”, a kind of two-story living room, overlooked by the hall above. I was looking over the banister into that room, holding an orange cat in my arms.

  My father was down below, and Haley was lying on the sofa. Dad hauled something out of a bag and showed it to my sister, who took it and examined it. “Wow, Dad, that’s amazing.”

  “I had to go to L.A. to get it— I must have gone to ten different stores before I found exactly the right one. Think she’ll like it?”

  Haley hesitated. “Well… she’d like Curly better.”

  “I know, honey.” Dad sounded sad. “I feel really bad for her— and for Curly. That dog misses Deb so much she’s been sleeping in her laundry basket.”

  Haley said, “I miss her too.”

  Dad was fooling around with a box. He took the object from Haley, crammed it in, and said, “Okay, it fits. Have you got the stuff Mom got her?”

  “The lotion? Yeah. It’s this special stuff Mom uses— Debbie’s always wanted some, but Mom said it was too expensive.”

  She pulled a plastic container out of a bag on the coffee table, and Dad stuffed that in the package too.

  How to explain what I was seeing? The thing was, it wasn’t like watching a movie. I was right there. They could only see me if they looked up, but I felt so close I could have touched them. I was so disoriented I didn’t even think to do the sensible thing— run down and fling myself in my dad’s arms. I was overcome with grief. And love. I couldn’t move. Finally I found my voice. “Dad!” I said, or meant to, but all I could get out was a whisper.

  Suddenly, I heard the rocket-noise again, and I felt my body dissolving and I heard my dad say, “What was that?”

  The noise got louder, so loud I could barely make out what Haley answered. “Just Curly. Whining to come in.”