Cat Breaking Free

by Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Shivering with the violence of the man's anger, but keening with curiosity, Eat sped across Clyde's roof for the back of Chichi's house and dropped down into the twiggy branches of the lemon tree. Clinging among its thorns and leaves, she peered in through Chichi Barbi's window.

  Max and Charlie returned to the ranch well after dark: the cloud cover was breaking apart, and the full moon picked out new details across the pastures and fence lines, making the horses shy. Bucky was more teasing than startled, having fun with Max. Redwing was naturally more nervous, she bowed her neck and snorted but she didn't try to bolt.

  "Just being a female," Charlie said. "Likes a little drama." "And you?" Max said, riding close to her. "How do you like your drama?" In the moonlight he couldn't see her blush, but he knew she was; it didn't take much. He loved that about her, that she blushed so easily, that he could gently embarrass her.

  "Don't try to distract me with your ways, Captain. I want to hear the rest of the plan-if you want to tell me."

  "The jewelry store owners have been meeting, getting together two or three at a time, in someone's shop at odd hours. Making their plans as quietly as possible." He moved Bucky aside from some ground squirrel holes, though Bucky was perfectly aware of where he was stepping and cocked an ear back at Max in annoyance.

  "But what is their plan?" Charlie said patiently.

  Max eased Bucky against their own pasture gate so he could open the latch. "Fake jewels," he said, looking up at Charlie. "John Simmons and Leon Blake suggested it." He swung the gate wide. They rode through, and he closed it. "They're collecting every realistic piece of imitation jewelry they can lay hands on to replace the real stuff. They've already begun to switch the jewelry in the cases every night, using pieces as much like what they have in the daytime as they can manage. In the heat of the break-and-enter, they're counting on no one taking the time to examine the take closely."

  He had lowered his voice as they approached their own stable yard, watching the lighted sweep of yard and barn, the shadows beneath the trees and around his truck and around her SUV, though the dogs sensed nothing amiss; they raced ahead sniffing and checking the territory in their untrained, rowdy way. When dismounting, Max slid open the stable door, the dogs raced in, circled the open alleyway between the stalls, then shoved their black-and-tan noses deep into their bowls of kibble.

  As Charlie slid off Redwing and undid the girth, her thoughts were full of elegant jewelry cases lined with fakes. She was still smiling as she walked Redwing to cool her down, then led her into her stall, took her halter off, filled her water bucket and tossed her a couple of flakes of hay. But would those men notice the switch? Would one of them think to put a jeweler's glass on a diamond, or take a careful look at the rich settings?

  She began to worry about what she would tell the cats-what she dare tell them. And to wonder what danger she might put them in if they weren't told, if they didn't fully understand the operation. And she knew she had no choice.

  Besides, when she promised Max to tell no one, in Max's mind the meaning was that she would tell no human. Max had made no mention of cats.

  The short, dark, square man was roaring drunk. The stink of secondhand alcohol through Chichi's open window made Kit want to retch. What was wrong with his face? He had adhesive bandages on it and on his hands, under his long-sleeved shirt.

  Chichi stood facing him, very angry. "I don't have the key to your cage! What would I want with those stinking cats! I don't even know what you want with them!"

  Cats? Kit's heart was pounding. Cats in a cage? What cats?

  "There was no one else to take the friggin' key! Them cats couldn't!"

  Kit's whole body was rigid. Only her tail moved, lashing wildly against the branches. She concentrated hard to make it still. Sometimes her tail was like a stranger, all out of control. What cats? In what cage? And where?

  "And now them two others," Luis said with triumph. "They're the same, you can bet! Why else would they be in there?"

  Kit began to shiver. She had to find out where, and fast! She pressed against the screen, drawing in a great breath, sniffing Luis as he rounded on Chichi, trying to smell past the whiskey for some other scent, for cat scent-for the scent of Joe Grey and Dulcie.

  But she could smell only the booze.

  "Did you search Abuela?" Chichi asked suspiciously.

  "Of course I searched her. She don't have the damn key."

  "You searched Abuela!" Chichi screamed. "You pig, you searched your own grandmother! You are scum, Luis. Pure scum!" Chichi lunged at him and slapped him. Luis grabbed her hands, twisted her arm behind her until she screamed. As he turned, forcing her against the dresser and raised his arm as if to hit her, his sleeve brushed the screen right across Kit's nose.

  And there it was: Joe Grey's smell. Sharp on Luis's sleeve. The smell of the enraged tomcat, mixed with the smell of blood and medicine.

  Kit was shaking so hard that for a moment she couldn't move. A cage… Trapped in a cage…

  Where? She had to find out where.

  She moved fast, springing out of the tree and across the damp grass and weeds and around the house to the front and across Clyde's yard onto the porch. She was crouched to bolt through Joe's cat door, when she stopped.

  He wasn't in there; she could still hear him far away, calling for Joe. Oh, Clyde, he's in a cage, they're in a cage and no one knows where, no one hut Luis and Chichi-if they're in a cage, how long before…. before…? But Chichi knows where, she knows this Abuela so she must know where… Kit needed Clyde. She needed him bad, right now. Clyde could make Chichi take them to where Joe and Dulcie were in a cage. Chichi had been there, she knew where, Chichi would have to lead them…

  But if the key was lost? Well, Kit thought, then Clyde would have to break the cage. Clyde was strong, he'd know how to do that…

  Rearing up on the porch, she looked down the street where Clyde was shouting for Joe, and she streaked away through the night toward his impatient voice…

  31

  Clyde was headed home when something bounded at him out of the night, hitting him in the chest like a bullet; and Kit was clinging to his sweater, blathering in his face trying to tell him something about Joe and Dulcie. In a cage? What cage?

  "Slow down, Kit. Take it slow." He undid her claws and pulled her off, and cradled her in his arms. "Shhhh, Kit! Don't talk out here, wait until we're inside." He double-timed home, and they were hardly through the door when she blurted it all out, talking nonstop, in a panic.

  "In a cage, Joe and Dulcie, and no one knows where but Luis and Chichi. Chichi must know where, she saw them there! Hurry, Clyde! You have to make her take us there. Oh, hurry! Locked in a cage and Luis lost the key and maybe someone took the key so you'll have to take a saw or some kind of cutters. Oh hurry before Chichi leaves because she has to take us there she's the only one who knows except Luis. But Luis…" She stared in the direction of Chichi's house praying that Luis would go away and Chichi wouldn't, so Clyde could make her help them. Rearing up in his arms she stared nose-to-nose at Clyde.

  He was deathly white, as if she'd scared him bad, landing smack on him out of the night and then telling him about the cage. "Locked in a cage, Clyde, and Chichi can take us, you have to make her take us before she goes away again, oh, hurry!"

  Clyde unhooked her claws again, held her close, and swung out the door, heading for Chichi's house. "You are not to talk, Kit! Not a word!"

  "I won't talk but Luis is in there and he's mean, he's drunk and mean."

  He set her down on the drive. "Go get in my car, Kit. Right now. In the back." He jogged around the corner of the house, heading for Chichi's door.

  Of course Kit didn't go to his car, she followed him, scorching up into the lemon tree again, expecting to hear Luis shouting. But there was nothing. Not a sound at all, not of fighting, not anything. Dead silence. Were they gone?

  But then a door slammed, and Luis came charging out along the side of the house and up the drive to the
street, then up the street to a dark blue sedan. As he ground the car to a start and spun away with tires squealing, Clyde headed up the steps for Chichi's door.

  Abuela's house was dark. The old woman's bedroom was dark except for the thin wavering light of the TV bouncing and receding as Maria and Abuela watched a movie. They were tucked up in their beds, laughing out loud.

  "What are they watching?" Dulcie whispered. She was surprised she could think about anything else but being crammed into the stinking cage maybe never to get out again. But Maria and Abuela were having such a good time.

  "Secondhand Lions," Joe whispered. Both women seemed comforted, watching those two old men in their rocking chairs on their front porch laughing as they blasted away at traveling salesmen with their shotguns. Maybe, Joe thought, Maria and Abuela would like to do the same to Luis. A thin drift of pale light filtered in through the window, too, from the full moon. In the locked cage beside Joe and Dulcie, the three ferals slept or seemed to sleep, tangled miserably together, tabby head on white flank, calico nose under Coyote's front paw in the kibble dish.

  Maria had done nothing to try to find the key. Joe had hoped that, once Luis left, she would go out to the backyard and look for it, where Abuela had thrown it. He guessed she was too afraid of Luis to do that.

  He didn't know how long the five of them would last, crowded in there, before they'd all get sick or start to fight, seriously harm one another in their panic to be free. The crowding and stink, combined with the flashing light and noise from the TV, had Joe himself ready to claw anything within reach. He was trying to lie down without waking Cotton when a looming shadow darkened the moonlit window: a man's shadow, a broad-shouldered figure with a lump on his shoulder. Joe went rigid with disbelief and then with excitement.

  A man looking in, a man with a cat on his shoulder, its fat, fluffy tail switching. And on the night breeze that filtered in through the four-inch crack at the bottom of the window Joe could smell Clyde. That familiar miasma of automotive shop gas-oil-grease-metal-paint-primer and the sweet smell of industrial hand-cleaner; all this mixed with Clyde's aftershave and with Kit's own scent. Rearing up against the bars, it was all he could do not to shout and cheer.

  He waited for Clyde to open the window wider, then remembered that it was fixed closed at four inches. As Clyde leaned into the glass, looking in, examining the molding, Kit's dark little face came clear beside his, her round yellow eyes taking in the scene.

  But out of the dark behind them, Chichi appeared, and Joe knew that all was lost.

  Pushing Clyde aside, Chichi bent down, looking through the open part of the window. "Maria? Maria! It's me." Beside her, Clyde produced a small electric screwdriver. The music from the movie was loud, and the women were laughing. No one heard her.

  Clyde pushed a bigger hole in the screen where Joe had made a small one. He unlatched it and removed it and leaned it against the house. Reaching in, he found the screws that held the window in position, and began to remove them. In less than a minute he slid the glass up.

  Joe was pretty sure Luis had gone out, but he didn't know where Tommie was. The men had left Abuela's bedroom door ajar, and a person could see down the hall. There was no light on from the living room or bedroom or kitchen. Either Tommie had gone out, too, or had gone to bed early. Kit leaped in and pressed against the cage, licking Dulcie through the bars. Clyde climbed into the room, and then Chichi. What could Clyde have done, to make Chichi bring him here? How had he known where they were? Joe had no idea what had happened, but from Kit's smug look he could see she'd had a paw in the matter. Maria had seen them, she watched, wide eyed.

  Kit licked and licked Dulcie's ear, and she stared at the three feral cats. The cats looked back at her, their eyes merry with recognition. Their looks seemed to say, See how she's grown. Look how beautiful she's become, that skinny little waif. Joe watched Chichi shake Maria gently by the shoulders.

  "Where's the key, Maria? What did he do with the key?"

  "You can't, Chichi. Luis will be… He'll kill me. He would beat Abuela. He thinks she took the key. If you…"

  Chichi shook her harder. "You have rope? Cord? Your belts… the belt on your robe, on Abuela's robe. Take them off. Get belts, all you can find." She looked at Clyde. "Forget the key. Use that saw. Get busy…"

  Clyde got to work with the hacksaw, jamming the padlock at an angle to hold it steady. The saw's rasping was incredibly loud even over the sounds from the TV Joe pressed against Dulcie tight between the captive cats, watching Chichi tie up Maria and Abuela with a bright collection of belts, binding them to the curved bars of their antique iron beds like a scene in some Western melodrama. Abuela was grinning ear to ear, as if the cats' impending escape filled her with wicked delight, now that she and Maria would not be blamed for it. Chichi, tying knots, glanced nervously at the bedroom door watching for Luis or Tommie to come barging through. The minute she had the two women secure, she headed for the window and safety.

  "I'll be in your car!" she hissed, and she was through the window and gone. Clyde calmly removed the lock and opened the cage door. Coyote and Cotton squeezed through both at once, their tails lashing. Coyote's ears were erect and eager as he sniffed the fresh outdoor air. Cotton pushed past him and they leaped to the sill. Both toms turned to look at Clyde, a silent moment of thanks, then they were gone, racing away through the moonlight. Willow followed more slowly, pausing on the sill for a long moment, looking back at Joe and Dulcie and Clyde, a deep and loving look. Then she exploded away behind the others.

  When the captives were gone, Joe and Dulcie came out from the cage, licked Kit to thank her, and rubbed against Clyde's hand. But as Clyde scooped them up in his arms and reached for the kit, prepared to climb back out the window, Kit drew away.

  Racing ahead of them, she stopped in the bushes and lifted a paw, but backed away when Clyde stooped to reach for her. "I heard something, I have to tell…"

  "Come on," Clyde said. "We're out of here, you can tell us later."

  "Now!" Kit said with an imperative yowl that startled them all. "Right now! That man… Slayter, that handsome obnoxious man? He's part of this gang, with Luis, it's a big gang. They broke in the jewelry store. He's part of it and he's staying in the Gardenview Inn and Chichi wants to get in there and search for something, I don't know what. She…"

  A sound from the house, a hush of muffled footsteps in the bedroom, made Clyde snatch at her again. He missed and she leaped away and Clyde could only follow, clutching Joe and Dulcie. When they heard the bedroom door bang open Clyde ran, Joe and Dulcie clinging to him with all forty claws. But Kit was gone, racing away through the night.

  "Kit, come back!" Dulcie hissed. "Kit, wait…" They heard her leaping away through the bushes, following the wild ones.

  Shocked, Clyde clutched Joe and Dulcie closer as he rounded the house, heading fast for the car. No one said what they were all thinking-that Kit might stay with the feral band. Might race away with them into the hills to take up that old life once more. Swinging into the car, Clyde still watched the bushes, but Joe and Dulcie knew she was gone. Kit's wild streak had taken her, Kit's longings that could never be tamed.

  They were all three strung with nerves as Clyde dropped the two cats in the back of the roadster and slid in beside Chichi and headed home. They were all three hearing Kit's words… Slayter… staying in the Gardenview… Chichi wants to search. ..

  Chichi, all scowls and fidgets, watched warily for Luis's car, as if it would appear at any instant racing after them or waiting on some dark side street. Joe considered her with interest.

  She did not look like a vamp now, but like a lost soul. She sat hunched and miserable, perhaps imagining what Luis would do to her when he found the cats gone, certain that she was responsible. All her lipstick had worn off, and her pale hair hung limp and lifeless. She seemed not to care. There wasn't, at this moment, much pizzazz left to Chichi, and Joe liked her better this way.

  But then the next minute
she whipped out a comb and lipstick and got to work fixing herself up in the dark. She seemed to be skilled in such matters. Fishing out a little vial of perfume, she had soon restored the old Chichi. She watched Clyde with speculation.

  In the back seat, Dulcie peered out, longing for a glimpse of Kit and feeling cold inside and lost and frightened. She was far more upset than she wanted to let on. Oh, Kit, she thought, you won't go with them, not forever. Not back to the clowder. You won't go for good, you won't do that, you can't.

  But when she looked at Joe, his whiskers drooped and his yellow eyes were filled with misery, and she could smell fear on him. Fear that Kit had gone for good with the ferals, that the little tattercoat had let her hunger for crazy new adventures magic her away-that the unfettered wildness of her kittenhood had filled her right up again so she could think of nothing else.

  Clyde's yellow convertible, having no power steering or power brakes, took his full attention-or he let Chichi think it did as he negotiated the dark, narrow, hilly streets down into the village. Three times Chichi asked him how he knew Luis had his cat, when he hadn't known anything about Luis.

  "Damn, that was lucky," Clyde said. "I was just coming home from walking the streets shouting for Joe-he'll usually come when I call him. I was getting mad and worried. I guess you think it's foolish, to be that fond of a cat, but I've had him a long time. I'd about given up, and was going in the house when I passed that guy leaving your place." Clyde looked across at her. "I heard him muttering. Talking to himself about cats. Something about a cage, a key. Muttering about cats in a damned cage."

  Joe, crouched in the back seat with Dulcie, glanced at her with amusement. Clyde wasn't the greatest liar. Still, it wasn't bad. He watched Chichi sidle closer to Clyde, looking up at him engagingly.

  Ignoring her advances, Clyde parked across the street from her place, didn't pull into his own drive. He glanced at her. "You know how cat lovers are. The guy looked… I just had this feeling he was talking about my cat! That he was some nutcase, had caught my cat here in the yard, and put him in a cage." He left the engine running, glancing at Chichi. "This time, my hunch was right. Thanks, Chichi. I really owe you." He swung out to open her door. "You want me to walk you back? That driveway's dark."