by Jill Nojack
Then, I tell her my newly devised rock-em sock-em plan for how to use the info about Kevin to get a birth certificate for good ol' Tom Sanders the Third. Maybe I didn't think it through well enough before opening my mouth. I don't know if she's grimacing about what Kevin's done or about what I want to do.
She says, "I can see how you need a birth certificate and a new name, but I'm not sure I want to get involved with the blackmail thing. We should just call the cops. What is it with you witchy people wanting to keep it all in the family?"
"Kevin owns the cops, Cass. They're his best buddies. And it wouldn't just get me a birth certificate. It would also keep the women of this town free from that predator. Who knows where else he's peeping or what worse things he's done?"
"Yeah, but, wow—doesn't your plan seem like something Eunice would have you do?" she says.
"It's exactly something Eunice would have me do. But when you're dealing with people like Kevin and Robert, Eunice tactics are probably the only ones that work. Do you think going to the police is going to work? Robert hires the police. And Kevin—I don't know what he does to them, but he can't even get a parking ticket in this town. Believe me, every single one of them is in his pocket."
Cassie stands her ground. "I'm sure you're right, but we need to try. It's the right thing to do. Then, if they don't take the complaint seriously, I'll do what it takes. The thought that he could be looking in at me without me knowing completely creeps me out. But it just feels dirty to leverage what's happening to his housekeeper so that you can get something you want."
How in the world did this girl come from Eunice's gene pool? Out loud, I try to justify myself, but it seems lame when I hear what I have to say. "The thing about cats is they don't feel guilt. They go for what they want because that's how they're made. I've been a cat a long time. After all that time and everything Eunice made me do, maybe I've forgotten what it feels like to be human." I hang my head. "Maybe I have."
Her voice softens. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Of course I'll do what I can to get you back into the world and help out Kevin's housekeeper. I just don't know if I'd be willing to go through with making it public if Robert refused to get involved. It would be such an invasion of her privacy. From what you've said, she doesn't even know what's been happening."
"We need to make it stop either way." I shrug. "And we could post just enough of the video so that people can figure out he's making the beast with one back while looking in someone's window but not be able to tell whose window it is."
"Yeah, maybe. Gimme some time. We should talk to Gillian. She always seems to have a handle on stuff. I know you're the same age, but, no offense, Gilly is like, way more mature."
I nod, and I know she's right. When did I ever have an opportunity to gain maturity? But I'm tired of bringing Gillian in on everything. Cassie can't manage to do anything without consulting her. Then again, Eunice made all the decisions for Cassie during her summers here. Maybe she doesn't have much experience making them on her own. Who knows what her fiancé was like. He might have been just as controlling.
Gillian takes a seat in the kitchenette and gives me a smile as I hand her a cup of tea the way she likes it—two sugars and a teaspoon of cream. Cassie sits opposite her in the only other chair, and I lean against the counter, waiting for the announcement Gilly said she had to make.
"I'm leaving for France tomorrow. I remembered something Eunice told me years ago about her coven there. Her high priestess was a woman named Madame Aurelle. Eunice said she was the most powerful witch she'd ever known. I was able to track down the coven through some of my sources who contacted their sources, and so on. My thought is that someone may know the secret of the magic that bound Tom as a cat. If they do, maybe they'll know how to undo it. But they're certainly not going to discuss that kind of magic with me through email."
"Gillian, that's fantastic!" Cassie says.
I walk Gillian to the door and give her a hug on her way out. "Thanks for everything you're doing. You're still the best, baby."
"Baby? Really?" She calls back to Cassie. "While I'm gone, please explain to Tom why calling a full-grown woman 'baby' makes him a caveman."
Then she's gone, and our trio is a duo.
Back in the kitchen, Cassie turns to me and smiles weakly. "Truthfully, I don't mind being called baby. Dan did it all the time."
She bustles off up to her room. Cassie's with Dan now, at least in her head. Gilly's gone to France. Tom is alone.
***
A day later, I'm glad Cassie didn't mention my plan to Gillian. I think she'd have rousted it pretty quick. Instead, we get to go forward with it. It gives me something to focus on other than Cassie's skittishness with me.
Sure, I took a leaf from Eunice's book to design the plan, but in this case it's justified. If things go well, Kevin won't be wandering around the shop eyeing up Cassie's merchandise any more.
I've always been good with my hands, although it does take a few hours for the muscle memory to come back after I've spent time as Cat. I fashion a harness with a pocket for Cassie's cell phone out of a piece of old wire I find in the storeroom, then Cassie says the words so Cat can try it on.
After I've shifted and am mobile again, she attaches the harness to my collar after slipping her phone into it. They do amazing things with electronics these days. I'm still not sure I believe there's an entire computer in that tiny thing. I'm glad when she can't resist scratching my ears, but she catches herself and pulls away quickly. She must be so repelled by what I am.
She presses the button for the camera, and I slowly circle the room, making sure to jump up like I would need to when getting up to the sill at Kevin's house.
We review the tape later, and while my ability to point the camera in the right direction isn't perfect, it does the job. When I tried to get Cassie in the middle of the frame and follow her as she walked across the room, I only lost her twice and quickly got her back into the picture.
With practice, this is going to go okay. We decide to try it out later tonight on the real target.
***
I return with the video, and Cassie carefully removes the collar from around my neck, lays my robe near me, and says, "Good Tom," as she walks out of the room.
When I'm presentable, I join her at the table while she watches through the video. There's nothing to see but Kevin sitting and reading, getting up for a cup of tea, and waving distractedly at Keisha as she announces she's leaving at the end of her shift. The camera veered crazily side to side for a moment when I jumped from the window ledge and pushed my way through the bushes to film Keisha walking home, but it did show that the setup would work. I wish I'd gotten something on him, but I can be patient until he takes a wrong step again.
When she's done watching, Cassie looks up and says, "Okay, that was weird to watch. Voyeur much? I think we should just go to the cops without proof."
"You know we can't. Maybe not even with proof. It's not like I want to watch it happen again, but when you've been sent to spy as many times as I have, it becomes second nature. Anyway, Cat isn't judgmental. He just watches and waits for his opening to turn the situation to his advantage."
"Why do you always say 'Cat' like it has a capital c and is like...somebody else?"
"Cat is somebody else. Or a separate being, at least."
"But how?" she presses. She obviously isn't letting me go on this one.
"Like I could explain the freaky existential trip I'm on? Because I can't. Not so it makes any sense. I experience Cat's feelings and needs and ways of processing information, and I'm pretty sure Cat's consciousness experiences mine: it's anyone's guess what a cat makes of that. Our bodies share the same space, but the only time both bodies are physically present at the same time is during the shift. I don't know how it works, but we're two beings sharing the same space, bodies, and consciousness. Cat's inside my head, and I'm inside his body."
Cassie's forehead wrinkles as she takes
it in. She gives me a wry look and asks, "Which one of you is the one who crawls into bed with me?"
"Both of us. Cat for warmth. Me for a different warmth. A human kind of warmth."
"I'm so sorry. I don't even know what to say..." A tear glistens at the corner of her right eye. She blinks it back.
"Look, don't say anything." I take a deep breath. "But, because we're talking about it, and we might not do that again, I've got to come clean on one thing. Just try not to judge me until you've heard me out. It could change the way you think of me."
Cassie nods her head, but her brow furrows slightly, and she's biting her lip on one side.
"Between Eunice and me...I tried to put as much of a barrier against her as I could, but Cat had no problem with her. Cat never saw himself as anything but independent, doing what cats do. He kept me alive, because if I'd had to accept as a man the things that were expected of me..."
I hang my head, but there's no extra courage waiting at my feet. I raise it again. Her eyes never left me. "What I'm trying to say is—I seldom fought Eunice on any of it. Very early, I did. I was angry—angry about what she did to me, to Gillian, but in the end, I accepted the relationship with her that cats have with their masters and mistresses—distant but dependent, and trading my affection and skills for food, shelter, and life. Based on what I've seen spying on people all these years, a lot of people live their lives that way."
I take a deep breath before I continue. "I'm not a good man, Cassie, although I'm a pretty good cat."
I can't bear to look at her for even a second longer, and I look away, recalling all the rotten things I've done over the years without complaint, knowing that anyone with self-respect would have fought it, accepted death if that was the alternative. But I couldn't get rid of the hope. It was the one thing I had that I could call my own.
Cassie is up and moving around the table, her arms stretching out to pull me to her. My head rests on her shoulder, and her breath warms my forehead. She murmurs something into my hair, but I can't hear the words. I place my arms around her waist and she holds me for a long time.
When we finally let go of each other, somewhere deep inside where I've stored up all the rage, a spark of healing springs toward the light. This girl, this amazing girl, just keeps forgiving me.
The good news is that cats don't get bored. They can't hold information long enough to find the next round of the same thing repetitive. The bad news is that I do.
Day three of Kevin-watch and still there's nothing going on. I begin to think that I dreamed it all up. I have endless images of Kevin watching TV, reading papers, or eating dinner. I have lots of time devoted to pretty Keisha's cooking and serving. What I don't have is anything that points a finger at Kevin as the devil I know he is.
Cat's eyes start to close. He's been pushing for a nap for an hour now, but I've been fighting him to stay awake.
Then, Keisha comes out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a checked hand towel after washing the dinner dishes, and Kevin waves her over when she tells him she's ready to take off for the night.
"Have a glass of wine with me before you go? I'm celebrating a new business acquisition, and it's no fun celebrating alone."
"Sure, Mr. Andrews. You know I don't mind a glass of wine. Thanks." She folds the towel as she walks to the couch and lays it across her legs when she sits in the chair kitty-corner to Kevin and reaches for the glass he offers. She communicates with nods, an occasional smile, and noncommittal responses to his small talk. She's obviously tired, but it's also clear she doesn't want to upset her employer.
When Kevin finally walks her to the door, I wait outside to see if he's going to follow her. Bingo! Tonight's the night.
I got every second of it. Even the Kevie-porn. I'll make sure Cassie's warned about that, though. I don't need her to be even more skittish around me.
It doesn't take long before he zips back up. I figure he'll head back to his place, but he goes in the direction of downtown instead. It's quite a haul—a mile at least, but I guess if he's planning on not being spotted, he can't drive.
I feel like I'm going to cough up a fur ball, if not my entire digestive system, when I realize where he's heading.
***
It's become our ritual over the last few days. I go in through the open downstairs window, Cassie removes the harness and shifts me, and then we stand close together watching the video as we review what I've got.
Not tonight, though. I come in through the back and slink behind the furniture, careful to make sure I can't be seen from the side window where I know Kevin lurks. I sit directly below it and meow to get Cassie's attention.
She looks over casually, a question in her eyes, and I do my best to signal her by widening mine and shaking my head up and down. We really need to get some signals going for these need-to-communicate-with-a-cat situations. She turns back to her book and says "Good Tom", careful to keep her eyes averted.
I force myself to stay silent as the transformation takes place. Then I blast up, slam the window open and see no one there, but my right fist smashes into where I think Kevin's face should be. The result is a scream and a satisfying crunch and the sound of footfalls running away.
"Stay away from us, you animal!" I yell after him, no longer sure where he is because apparently only Cat can see him, but I think he's probably long gone. Just to be confident I'm right, I turn quickly to Cass and say, "Shift me."
When I leap to the sill, he's nowhere to be seen.
"Was he?" Cassie looks terrified. She says the words to make me a man again. She forgets to turn away for modesty's sake. I grab her in my arms and comfort her. Then, she suddenly pushes away.
"Ummm…you, we…clothes, Tom. Please."
I make myself decent and rejoin her in the living room. It seems wrong to feel triumph as I watch the scenes I captured, this time with all of the colors represented through my human eyes. I feel a sadness for Keisha I didn't feel as Cat. His influence on me fades more every day now that I'm mostly human. But that's a double-edged sword. I'm not used to the strength of human emotions any more.
"Well, looks like we've got him. Now all we have to do is go to the cops with it," Cassie says.
"Are we going to wait for Gillian for that?"
"No. I'm calling them tomorrow. There's evidence now. No reason to put it off any longer." I know she's right, but I worry for her. This time, I almost wish she would wait.
She asks, "Are you hunting tonight?"
"No, how could I? I don't feel like you'll be safe."
"Oh, I'll be safe. I'm going to lock all the doors, go upstairs, and throw a big old protection net around this house with the spells that Gillian's taught me. I'd like to see him get even a toe into the house tonight without losing it."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm calm now, and I know how Cat needs to hunt when something awful happens."
I don't tell her it's me that needs it, that every nerve in my body is jittering with the emotions I don't know how to handle. When I'm riding inside Cat again, I escape into the night without my harness, free of human responsibilities.
Cat is still too young to be a danger to much of anything in this reincarnation, but just pouncing at shadows takes the edge off the hunting instinct. I love the smell of danger, but I hope I haven't landed Cassie right in it.
***
The big cop accepts the muffin Cassie offers and takes a hearty bite that he washes down with coffee. I watch from the armchair through Cat's eyes as Cassie tells him why she called the station. We decided it would be better coming from her without "Tom the Third" around. He's still the new guy in town and his identity won't hold up to much scrutiny. We also decided it would be a smart idea not to mention the film until we see the way the wind blows.
When Cassie says Kevin's name, it's like a curtain drops across the officer's face. It goes hard and blank almost on cue. Before she's even done with her story, he says, "So you're saying that one of this town's
most respected citizens is pulling a peeping Tom on his employee on a regular basis, but she hasn't bothered to come forward? And why should I believe this?"
"I just think you should look into it. You know, stake the place out or something. See for yourself."
He gets up and stands over her, menacing. His stone face has threat written all over it. "Here's what I think is going on. The snotty little granddaughter of Eunice Grandby, who sold smuggled items right here on these premises, decides she doesn't like what the local paper printed about it. She thinks it's a good idea to go after the owner of that paper with an ugly story for some payback. So, listen up: Mr. Andrews won't put up with it, and I won't put up with it. Don't bother calling the department for anything again. We won't be stopping in to listen to your lies."
The cop turns to leave, grabbing another muffin from the counter on his way by. He suddenly turns back, the expression on his face softening, and looks at her strangely, as if he's forgotten something.
Well, I guess we know which way the wind blows. I get to a sitting position, ready if Cassie needs to shift me to help her out against the brute. She agreed she would if she had to, but I pressed her hard to get that promise. I only hope she follows through and doesn't depend on her newly developed magic skills. I don't like this guy lording it over her. I'd like to get a few licks in.
But after a tense minute, the cop turns and leaves quietly. And that's the end of it. Except for the part where Cassie starts sniffling. To her credit, she shrugs it off quicker than I thought she would. Two weeks ago she would have been sobbing her head off.
I don't say I warned her, but I did. I told her Kevin was buddies with them all. We'll need to be extra vigilant now.
***
That night when Cassie leaves to walk the day's takings to the bank, Kevin stops her across the street from the shop, dragging her into the narrow alley next to the bakery, his hand over her mouth. She tries to break away from him, and he moves in, threatening, his body too close to hers, his eyes narrowed, his mouth tight and angry.