by Patricia Fry
“Okay,” he said, running up the stairs.
Savannah’s thoughts flashed back again to the young man in San Francisco. I can’t fathom how devastating it must have been for Arthur to lose his little sister. I wonder if that’s why he became so involved with cats. He does love cats, just like Adam does.
Once the baby was asleep, Savannah returned to the living room and discovered Adam lying on the floor surrounded by a variety of items. Rags was sitting nearby. “What’s all this?” she asked, hands on hips.
The boy rolled over to face Savannah. “I’m teaching him his words.” When she looked confused, he explained, “See, I put all these things out and when I say the name of something, he’s supposed to walk over to it. If he chooses the right thing, he gets a treat.”
“Oh? How many treats has he earned so far?” she asked, tilting her head a little, her blond ponytail brushing across one shoulder.
Adam looked down. “None.” He perked up. “I thought he’d know the words, harness, and cat food, and ball. But no. I say the word and he just sits there in front of me begging for a treat.”
Savannah chuckled. “Here, let me see if I can help.” She knelt down and petted Rags a few times. “Focus, Rags. Focus, boy.” She then said, “Walk…wanna go for a walk? Where’s your harness?”
At that, Rags looked toward his harness. He rubbed against Savannah, then walked to the harness and rubbed on it, walking back again to Savannah.
“Wow!” Adam said. “Come here, Rags. You get a treat for that. That was amazing. How did you get him to do it?”
“You have to use words he’s accustomed to—familiar with,” she said. “For example, what do you say to him when you’re going to feed him? I mean, you don’t say, ‘bowl’ do you?”
He shook his head. “Um, I say like… ‘wanna eat?’ or ‘want dinner?’”
“That’s right. Now try that with him and see what he does.”
Excitedly, Adam said, “Rags, want dinner? Wanna eat?”
Without hesitation, the cat walked toward the kitchen. He stopped and looked back at Adam and Savannah and then sat down. He glanced at his food bowl and back at Adam. Next, he strolled slowly to his bowl and began nibbling kibbles.
“He does know some words, doesn’t he?” Adam exclaimed.
“So do they,” Savannah said, pointing to Lexie and Walter, who were hovering around the cat and dog dishes in anticipation. “Do you have treats for them, too?” She stood and said, “After everyone gets their treats, how about putting all this stuff away, wash your hands, and let’s see about making some jam.” Just then something caught her eye. “Adam,” she said, examining one of the items he’d brought in for the game with Rags, “…a pooper scooper? I mean, really…”
He shrugged. “Sure, it’s his, isn’t it? He’s seen it lots of times.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t think he knows what it’s called, do you?”
Adam thought for a moment, then grinned. “No, I guess not.”
“You have to use words that are in his vocabulary—that mean something to him—words that he hears often.”
The boy picked up a Pippin off the floor and looked at it. “So apple probably isn’t in his ‘cabulary, right?”
“Probably not,” she said.
****
“That’s a lot of peaches and plums,” Adam said, when he returned to the kitchen after cleaning up his mess. “How many jars will that be?”
“I think we’ll just make a couple dozen pints of peach jam and a dozen or so of plum. We can save the rest of the fruit for eating and maybe baking.”
“Sounds good to me. What are the apples for?”
“I’m baking my famous apple cake for our guests tonight.”
“Famous?” he asked. “Why is it famous? Did you make it on the Cooking Channel?”
“No.” She chuckled. “I served it to friends a few times and everyone liked it.”
He picked up an apple and examined it. “Who’s coming over?”
“I thought I told you that Auntie Margaret and Max are coming for dinner. Max is making a veggie pizza.” When Savannah noticed Adam’s sour face, she quickly added, “…and an Adam-size pepperoni-and-cheese pizza.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Oh good.”
“Now, let’s see if we can make some jam. Are you ready for a fun job?”
“Yeah!” he said, enthusiastically.
“Here, you can take these peach peelings out to Peaches.”
“Cool,” he said. He then frowned down at the pan of peelings. “That’s not very many. She’s a big horse, you know.”
“Yes, but a horse has a fragile digestive system, so you never want to give her too much of something she’s not used to.”
“Oh,” he said. He started to step out the door, then stopped and laughed a little. “Hey, Peaches eats peaches; that’s funny.”
Savannah chuckled. “No more funny than Barry eating berries, Candy eating candy, or Joe eating a sloppy Joe.”
Adam thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right—and Rags sleeping on a pile of rags,” he said, laughing out loud as he left through the door.
Savannah smiled, shook her head, and went back to work on the jam.
****
That evening, Margaret and Max arrived, pizzas in hand.
“We made a salad,” Adam announced. “It has cranberries in it.”
Max winked at the boy. “Cool.”
“Savannah made a cake with apples in it,” Adam added. He then said as if it were a secret, “The cake broke, but she glued it back together with frosting. Come look, you can hardly notice.”
“You aren’t supposed to tell about our mistakes, Adam,” Savannah said good-naturedly from the dining-room door. She focused on the flashlight Margaret carried. “You walked over, huh?”
“Yeah, thought it might be dark by the time we leave. Now let’s see the broken cake,” she said, following the others into the kitchen.” She asked the boy, “Did you help make it?”
He shook his head. “No, Dad and I were playing a game with Lily.”
“What sort of game?” she asked, placing a small pizza on the counter.
“Well, we each picked toys and if Lily crawled to Dad’s toys, he got points and if she crawled to my toys, I got points.”
Margaret smiled. “Sounds fun. So who won?”
“Rags,” he said, sounding disappointed.
“Rags?” She chuckled. “How’s that?”
“Well, he kept lying on Lily’s blanket or he’d play with one of her toys and she’d crawl to Rags instead of her toys. So we decided he was the winner.” Adam turned to Max. “Hey, Uncle Max, did you make me a…”
“…pepperoni and cheese,” he said, smiling. “Just the way you like it, buddy.”
“Awesome.”
When Margaret noticed Michael join them in the kitchen with Lily in his arms, she emptied her hands and reached out for the baby.
“Wine, Maggie?” he asked, opening the pantry door.
“Yes, the one Vannie likes that starts with a G.”
“Ge-würz-tra-min-er,” Savannah said, slowly and precisely.
Margaret laughed. “Hey, you’ve been practicing your pronunciation. Yes, I’ll have a glass of that.” She waved toward the cupboards, saying, “…in one of those antique wine glasses I gave you, please.” Upon sitting down with Lily on her lap, she addressed her niece, “So how are you, Vannie? I haven’t seen you since you got back from Frisco.”
“Why do you call her Vannie?” Adam asked, leaning against the kitchen table next to Margaret. “Her name’s Savannah.”
“It’s a nickname,” Margaret said. “I’ve called her that since she was knee-high to a grasshopper.”
“What?” he asked, making a face. “A grasshopper?” He turned to Michael. “A grasshopper has knees?”
Michael nodded. “I think they actually do, Son. Let’s look it up on my phone after I pour the wine.”
“I’ll get it,” Adam said, rushing out of the room.
Margaret focused again on her niece. “You okay? What happened after we left Frisco? I heard that old Henrietta Peyton beat you up.”
“Not hardly,” Savannah said, defensively. “She sure gave it a good try, though.”
“What a b…”
“Auntie,” Savannah scolded, glancing in Adam’s direction as he returned to the kitchen with his dad’s phone. “Little ears,” she whispered.
“Well, she is,” Margaret said, emphatically. “I hope she rots in prison!” She looked up at her niece. “She is in jail, isn’t she?”
Savannah nodded. She waited until Michael and Adam had returned to the living room before saying, “I imagine you’ll get your wish.” She took the pizza-cutter out of a drawer and placed it on the counter, then faced Margaret and Max. “She’s been charged with her mother-in-law’s murder.”
Margaret’s jaw dropped. “Wow! She killed Pearl? How?”
“Evidently she hired some woman in the prison to do it.”
“Holy cow. Why did she want Pearl dead, do you know?” she asked.
“Good question. I’m pretty sure the answer is all tied up in the mystery of what actually happened to Karen and Arthur seven years ago.”
Max put his arm around Savannah’s shoulders and squeezed her to him. “Good to have you back. I’ll bet you wish you’d never agreed to stay behind to help Craig.”
“On the contrary,” she said, turning to face him. “As I told Michael, it was magical. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Seeing Arthur come out into the light of day and knowing he is free of the prison his mother created for him…well, it just feeds my soul, if you know what I mean.” She looked from one to the other of them. When she saw their blank stares, she shrugged. “Maybe you had to be there.”
“So what now?” Max asked Savannah, while he sliced the pizza with the cutter.
“Time will tell,” she said. “Hopefully, we’ll get news reports of the trial proceedings here, so we can keep up with what’s going on with Arthur’s mother and stepfather. I hope they determine quickly who was to blame in the tragedies that boy has endured, so he can get on with his life”
Margaret glanced down at Rags, who was weaving his body between and around her ankles. “Well, we sure fell into a can of worms in Frisco…and all because of your cat,” she said, leaning over with the baby still on her lap and running her hand along the cat’s back and up to the tip of his long tail.
“I guess it was because of Rags, wasn’t it?” Savannah agreed. “If he hadn’t gone exploring in the mansion, we wouldn’t have made the shocking discovery.”
Max chuckled. “Yeah, turns out we weren’t very good houseguests. He mimicked, ‘Thanks for your gracious hospitality; we’ll repay you by exposing your most damning secrets to the police.’”
Savannah glanced at Max while placing the salad on the table. “It was just a matter of time, don’t you think? Arthur was getting restless and more daring in his nighttime comings and goings out into the swamp.”
“So where is he?” Margaret asked. “…still living in the mansion?”
“No. Only a caretaker and maybe security are there now, since the Peytons are both in jail. There are financial matters to tend to before Arthur is lord of the manor. In fact, I don’t think he wants that status at all. He and Ruth, his longtime nanny and friend, live in her family home in a rural section outside the city.” Savannah put one hand on her aunt’s arm. “By the way, can you guys help with Arthur’s cats? He had quite a collection of them living with him. We need to get them out of the mansion and to a safe place. He has his Siamese, Karen, with him. The others have enough food and water for a few days.”
Max nodded. “Sure, we can help. Are they healthy?”
“From what I could see when Craig and I broke into Arthur’s basement prison that night…” She shivered and said quietly, “I still can’t believe we did that.” She focused on Max again. “Yes, it looked like Arthur and Ruth took good care of them.”
“Do you know how many there are?” he asked.
“Thirteen, I believe.”
Max pursed his lips. “We should be able to take half-dozen or so at our facility, now that most of the spring kittens are in good homes.” He thought for a moment. “Hey, how about if I call around to some of the agencies in Frisco and see if they can take six or seven of them and maybe transport the rest down here?”
“Thanks so much,” Savannah gushed. “I really appreciate it. I have the cell number for a contact at the mansion. I’ll get that for you after dinner. Now, let’s sit down and eat, shall we?” She called into the living room, “Time to eat, guys.”
“Can I feed the baby?” Margaret asked, smiling down at Lily as she put her in the high chair.
Savannah nodded and handed her a jar of home-pureed peaches and one of peas.
“Watch out, Aunt Maggie,” Adam said as he entered the kitchen. “She spits food.”
“Yeah, who taught her to spit food?” Michael asked, play-punching Adam in the arm.
The boy laughed, then asked, “Are we going to watch Rags’s movie tonight?”
“Changing the subject, huh, big brother who teaches baby sister bad behavior…” He peered down at the boy. “So what do you have to say for yourself?”
Adam shrugged. “I guess I’m just a good teacher.”
Everyone laughed.
“So are we going to watch the movie?” he asked again.
Michael nodded. “Yes, Son, we’re going to watch Rags’s movie.”
“You got a copy of the documentary?” Margaret asked. “Cool. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”
****
“So, Adam, what did you think?” Michael asked when the documentary ended.
“Um, well, there was a lot of talking.”
Savannah tilted her head. “What did you expect?”
“I thought it was going to be about Rags, but it was everyone talking about Rags.”
Michael tousled the boy’s hair. “That’s what a documentary is, Son…people telling their experiences with whatever the subject is.”
“And in this case,” Max said, “the subject was Rags.”
“Oh,” Adam said. “I just thought it would be more…”
“Like an adventure?” Margaret asked, grinning.
Adam perked up. “Yeah, the adventures of Rags.”
Michael chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“It’s okay. I liked seeing him in the movie and Buffy and Lexie…” he turned toward Michael. “…and you guys.” He thought for a moment before asking, “Did he really do all that stuff to help catch criminals?”
“He sure did,” Michael said. “He’s a deputy at the sheriff’s department. Didn’t you know that?”
“A deputy?” he asked, excitedly. He frowned. “That’s one of your jokes, right, Dad?”
Michael shook his head. “No, buddy. He really is an honorary deputy.”
Adam was quiet for a moment. He stared thoughtfully at Rags, who was sprawled out on his back across one of Buffy’s pink canopy beds. Bursting out laughing, he said, “He doesn’t look like a deputy, does he, Dad?”
Everyone gazed at the large grey-and-white cat and couldn’t help chuckling along with the boy.
“No, he sure doesn’t, Son.”
“Cake anyone?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah!” Adam shouted a little too loudly. He spoke more quietly when he told Margaret and Max, “It has apples in it from the orchard.”
“Cool,” Max said. “My favorite.”
Adam grinned up at Max. “Aww, Uncle Max, you always say that.”
It was shortly after the two women had served the cake and coffee in the living room that Savannah’s cell phone rang. “Hi, Craig,” she said, as she walked into the kitchen to take the call. “How are you guys?”
“We’re good. Iris is good, the boys
are good, little Tommy cat and the dog are doing well. And I’m…perfect. How about you?”
“Perfect, huh?” she chuckled.
“Hey, did Iris tell you what Tommy did a couple of days ago?”
“No,” Savannah said. “I haven’t talked to her since we got home.”
“Well, he likes paper, you know—pulls paper wads out of the trash cans, attacks the mail when it drops through the slot, even shredded a check the other day.”
Savannah grimaced. “Oh no.”
“Well, this one day, Iris walks into the bathroom and finds the kitten all tangled up in the toilet paper.” Craig let out a guffaw. “He had pulled most of the paper off the roll and was wrapped from head to toe with just one eye and ear showing.” Craig was laughing out loud. “She got a picture. I’ll send it to you. Crazy cat,” he said, still chortling.
“He’s so cute. What personality. And it sounds like he’s happy in your household.”
“Oh yes, he’s one happy dude, that’s for sure. Why wouldn’t he be? He always gets his way.” Craig paused. “He has this knack for knowing what he wants and how to get it.”
“Sounds like he has you trained pretty well,” Savannah said, laughing.
“Yeah, that he does, little scoundrel.”
“What—do you want to give him back? Want us to take him back where we found him, alone and starving in Big Sur?” she asked.
“Hell no!” Craig bellowed. He cleared his throat. “He’s familiar with us now…a…wouldn’t want to…cough…uproot him. No, better let him stay where he’s comfortable.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, you big softy. You love that kitty,” Savannah teased.
“So what if I do,” he said. He chuckled. “He is entertaining, that’s for sure.”
“I’m glad you two are enjoying him and vice versa,” Savannah said. She then asked into the phone, “So what’s up?”
“Just got word from Arthur that he fired his accountant.”
“What?” Savannah said. “So soon? Why?”
“I don’t know what happened. He and Ruth went to see Mr. Wilkerson and I guess Arthur didn’t like the vibes he was getting or something—maybe he felt there was a conflict of interest since Wilkerson had been the Peytons’ financial guy for so long. Anyway, Arthur flat-out fired him.”