Cats in the Belfry

by Patricia Fry

  Savannah looked across the table at her aunt. “Oh my gosh. The scream we heard. Do you suppose…?”

  “Could have been,” Margaret said. “We need to get those cats out of there and fast, before…”

  “Before what?”

  “Well, before we get tossed into that pond.” Margaret squinted. “Where is it, anyway? Did you see a pond out there?”

  Savannah shook her head. “It’s probably out in that area where we haven’t ventured yet.” After thinking about it, she added, “Iris mentioned a pond and a forest.”

  “Yeah, over the years they’ve taken down most of the trees to build housing tracts. They were sort of southeast of the seminary, as I remember it. But according to this, there’s still a pond somewhere on the property.”

  Savannah studied the article. “It says it’s the body of an older man and that he may have been homeless and just stumbled into the pond in the dark. They found an empty alcohol bottle nearby. Evidently, there’s no sign of foul play.”

  “Then who was that screaming last night and why?” Margaret asked.

  “Maybe someone was just trying to scare us away.” She grinned sheepishly. “It worked.”

  Margaret ignored her niece’s attempt at humor. “Well, we need to set traps for the remaining cats and finish with our job pronto quick.”

  “That includes the black cats?” Savannah asked. Before Margaret could respond, she added, “I’ve been thinking about them. They seem well-fed and not skittish like those outside. And they’re clean. I wonder if they live inside with…”

  “With what? Or with whom?” Margaret asked.

  “Well, with whoever lights the candles, I guess.”

  “And drowns people in the pond,” Margaret added breathlessly.

  Savannah thought for a moment, then said, “Would you feel better if Rochelle checked things out for us?”

  Margaret’s face lit up. “Yeah, would she do that?”

  “She said she would. She has a jewelry show not too far from here weekend after next and I invited her to stay with us. I’m pretty sure she’ll agree to go out there with us.”

  “Weekend after next? We could be finished with the trapping by then,” Margaret complained.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Savannah said.

  Margaret let out a deep sigh. “Okay. But in the meantime, let’s forget about what’s going on in the bell tower; let’s just concentrate on trapping those cats we can get. I want to quickly go in, set the traps, and get outta there. I’ll see if Luke’s available to help us.”

  “Good idea. Thanks. I’m taking Lily to Barbara’s day care tomorrow. Want to set the traps then?”

  “Okay.”

  Savannah reached out and touched her aunt’s arm. “Oh, Auntie, we’re missing something else.” She chuckled. “I wonder if it might have shown up at your place.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, like my bracelet did.” When Margaret didn’t respond, Savannah explained, “Some of Michael’s tools have gone missing.”

  “What kind of tools—hammer, saw?”

  “Actually some small things—what are they called?—sockets—I think. They come in a set of different sizes.”

  Margaret pondered this for a moment. “You know, I thought he was really meticulous with his tools. I’ve never heard of him losing any.” She grinned. “You, I can imagine losing things, but not Michael—especially his beloved tools.”

  Savannah smirked playfully at her aunt, then said, “Well, he was working on something out near the corral and he went to the tool shed to get some different size nails or screws and, when he went back to his project, a socket thingy was missing. He said he looked all over the place for it. He finally figured he must have carried it with him to the shed. He went back there and still couldn’t find it. And get this—when he returned to his project another one of the sockets was missing.”

  “Gads, girl,” Margaret said, “it sounds like you’re in some sort of vortex that’s sucking up your belongings.”

  “Yeah, and dropping them over at your house.”

  Margaret thought for a moment before saying, “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for those socket things. But I doubt I’ll find them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s probably your cat’s doings. Have you looked in his stash, lately?”

  Savannah gazed at Rags, who was sound asleep in one of Buffy’s pink canopy beds.

  ****

  The following day after leaving Lily at Barbara’s day care, Savannah and Margaret drove out to the seminary. “It looks rather benign in the daytime.” Margaret said.

  “Benign?”

  “Yeah, like peaceful and non-threatening,” she explained.

  “I guess so,” Savannah said, eyeing the place suspiciously. “Well, shall we get to work? Those traps aren’t going to set themselves.” Suddenly she shouted. “Oh no!”

  Margaret jumped nervously. “What?”

  “Looks like we missed a pregnant female.”

  “Where?”

  “I just saw her run into that pile of junk over there. She looks sort of like Rags. Let’s see if we can get our hands on her.” She turned to look into the back of the car. “Did we bring a carrier?”

  Margaret nodded. “I think I saw one back there when I loaded the traps.”

  “Well, come on; I want to catch that cat.”

  Margaret handed Savannah a pair of gloves. “Don’t forget these.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather work without them,” Savannah complained, “but I guess it’s important for the baby that I wear them.”

  “Now, which junk pile did you see her go into?” Margaret asked.

  “Over here,” she said, leading the way. Once they drew closer, Savannah exclaimed, “Oh!” She put her hands up against her chest and took a couple of steps back.

  “What?” Margaret asked.

  Savannah pointed. “That is just plain spooky.”

  “What is?” Margaret asked, impatiently. “I don’t see anything.”

  Savannah moved an old weathered candle holder, a plastic five-gallon bucket, a set of venetian blinds, and an empty crate to reveal a dusty piece of bright green plastic. “There,” she said, pointing.

  Margaret frowned. “What is that?”

  Hands on hips, Savannah announced, “Well, it could be part of a big, scary bird.”

  “A big, scary bird?” Margaret repeated. Suddenly she looked knowingly at Savannah. “Do you mean as in the one Iris saw flying out of the bell tower?”

  Savannah nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking.” The women began moving more of the debris until they were able to pull the thing free. “It looks like it could have been a part of what Iris saw.” She smirked at her aunt. “Plastic. It was just some old plastic thing someone built or found in a toy store to use…”

  Margaret finished her niece’s thought, “…to use to scare people?”

  Savannah nodded. “I guess so.” She chuckled. “We’ll have to tell Iris about this.” Giggling, she suggested, “Shall we take it and show it to her?”

  “I guess you could,” Margaret agreed. “However…” she hesitated. When she noticed Savannah waiting to hear more, she grinned. “…sometimes we prefer holding onto the original memory. It might crush her to find out it was a cruel stunt.” She pointed and began laughing. “Oh no, look at that.”

  “What?” Savannah asked as she tossed the piece of plastic aside.

  “A little flashlight with a red shield over the bulb. I’ll bet this was one of that green monster’s eyes.”

  “Probably was,” Savannah said. She took a deep breath and began scouring the area. “Now, where did that cat go?”

  “You probably scared her away with all that chatter about the green thing.” Suddenly Margaret whispered, “Oh, wait. I see her.” She reached into a space under a pile of wooden slats. “Gotcha, sweet kitty,” she crooned, pulling back with the grey-and-white cat in her arms.

  “I’ll get the carr
ier,” Savannah said.

  Once they had the pregnant female in the carrier, Margaret unloaded the traps and the two women went about setting them.

  “Is that female on your inventory sheet, Auntie?” Savannah asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Margaret stood and glanced around. “I just wonder how many cats there actually are out here.”

  Savannah chuckled. “It seems as though this place manufactures them.”

  Margaret nodded, then went back to preparing the traps. Once they’d finished, she stood and stared at the building.

  “What are you thinking?” Savannah asked.

  “Just wondering if we should take the litter from inside.”

  “We don’t have another carrier, do we?”

  Margaret shook her head. “No. But we could go get one and come back. What do you think?”

  “Or bring one when we come for the traps,” Savannah suggested.

  “Yes. Let’s do that.” Margaret started to turn toward the car, but stopped and peered up at the bell tower, then took a few steps back, hissing, “Vannie, did you see that?”

  “What?” Savannah asked, shading her eyes and looking up. “What? I don’t see anything.”

  “I don’t know. It looked like a woman. Who do you suppose it is?”

  Savannah shrugged. “Good question. Maybe the ghoul who’s been making all the noise and feeding those black cats…”

  “…and drowning people in the pond,” Margaret added with a shudder.

  “Now Auntie, the newspaper article said that was probably an accident.”

  Margaret shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so, Vannie.” She kept her eye on the bell tower. “I think there’s something else going on out here.” She tilted her head. “If she’s real, how do you suppose she got up there, anyway?”

  “If who’s real?” Savannah asked.

  “That woman up there,” Margaret said impatiently. “I sure didn’t see any stairs to the bell tower, did you?”

  “No, as a matter of fact.” Savannah laughed rather nervously. “But then I guess hallucinations don’t need stairs.”

  “Think about it, Vannie, a bell tower has to have stairs—how else can someone take care of the bells?”

  “What bells? I don’t see any bells.”

  “Well, there probably were bells at one time, don’t you think so?” When Savannah didn’t respond, Margaret said, “Let’s ask Iris. I’m going to call her.” She pulled out her phone and touched the screen. “Iris, it’s Maggie. Hey, we’re out here at the seminary and I’m just wondering…”

  “You’re still going out there, are you?” Iris asked.

  “Yes, we have cats to rescue. There are a lot of cats out here. But what I wanted to ask you is…”

  “So have you encountered anything weird yet?”

  “As a matter of fact…”

  “Any green flying monsters?”

  “Yes,” Margaret said. When Iris remained silent, she explained, “We found your big green bird in a pile of junk—well parts of it, anyway.”

  “What?” Iris exclaimed.

  “Yes, a piece of bright-green plastic and some little flashlights that were probably used for the eyes. I think someone was just trying to scare you.”

  “Well, undoubtedly.” Iris was quiet for a moment, then said, “So it wasn’t real, huh?”

  Margaret chuckled. “What we’re wondering is, did you ever see the stairs up to the bell tower?” After a brief silence, she said, “Iris?”

  “Yes, I’m here. Actually, I did once.”

  “Where are they?” Margaret asked. “We were in the vicinity of the bell tower, but we couldn’t find any stairs. We couldn’t even see up into the bell tower from right underneath it.”

  “Maybe they’ve dismantled them,” Iris offered. “Could be they’re in that junk pile you talked about with the statues.”

  “I don’t think so.” Her voice pinched, she added, “Iris, we saw someone up in the bell tower just now.”

  “You did? Oh, my gosh. What did they look like?”

  “I don’t know. I just caught a glimpse of a sort of mauve scarf or filmy dress or something. We’re wondering how she or he or whatever got up there.”

  “Oh. Well, as I recall, the stairs are a really tight spiral and they’re off to the left side—that would be east. But you had to go into a door to get to them. They used to keep that door locked. Once, the janitor’s kid sneaked the key from his dad and a bunch of us planned to go up the stairs just for fun. I was one of only a few who made it all the way to the top. There’s a platform—you know, a floor up there that puts you right level with the bells.”

  “There are no bells, Iris. The bells are gone. And I guess that’s why we couldn’t see the bell tower windows from inside the other night, because of the platform. Interesting. So someone could get up into those windows and look out and be seen?”

  “Yeah, if that staircase is still there.”

  “Thanks, Iris.”

  “Sure.” She hesitated, then asked, “Maggie, you aren’t going up there, are you?”

  Margaret stared up at the bell tower, then said, “Probably not.”

  “Oh. Well, be careful out there, will you?”

  “Yes. Bye, Iris.”

  After ending the call, Margaret glanced up at the bell tower again.

  “No!” Savannah said.

  “What?” Margaret asked innocently.

  “I’m not going up there,” she asserted. “So forget it. Come on, let’s get this cat settled. I need to pick up Lily.”

  Margaret took one last look at the tower, then followed Savannah to the car.

  “You kitties eat up that stinky food now. Yum, yum,” Savannah called out before stepping into the car.

  ****

  On their way to meet Luke at the seminary later that afternoon, Margaret addressed her niece. “Vannie, I didn’t think you’d come with us, since you have your class tonight.”

  Savannah glanced at her toddler in the backseat. “Oh, Lily was restless and I wanted to get her out of the house for a while. Besides, I want to see which cats we caught today.”

  Once she’d parked the car, Margaret looked down at Rags as Savannah eased herself out of the car holding his leash. “Maybe he can tell us if there are any litters hiding out somewhere.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Savannah handed Rags’s leash to her aunt. “Here, want to hold him while I get Lily’s stroller out? I’d rather she not run around out here.” Once Savannah had placed Lily in her stroller with a juice box, she looked up and noticed a van approaching. “Here comes Luke.”

  Both women waved at him.

  “Looks like you made a pretty good catch,” he said as he climbed out of the van.

  “Yes, trapping can be a slow process, but it’s our only choice when the cats aren’t cooperative.”

  “So true,” Luke said. He moved closer to the traps. “You caught two in this one.” He chuckled. “That’s unusual. They must have come in at the same time.”

  Margaret laughed. “Or one of them held the door open for the other.” She yelped and said impatiently, “Here, Vannie, take your cat. He’s pulling my arm off.”

  Savannah took his leash. “Let’s see where he wants to go. Find the kitties, Rags,” she chirped. “Auntie, keep an eye on Lily, will you?”

  Margaret nodded and watched while Rags led Savannah to the crawl hole and tried to go inside.

  “We know there are kitties in there, Rags,” Savannah said. “Let’s see if there are any hiding out here anywhere, shall we?”

  Margaret and Luke chuckled when they watched Savannah try to lure the cat out of the crawlspace.

  She finally had to duck inside and pick him up. She carried him away from the opening and placed him on the ground. “Find kitties out here,” she instructed. Savannah walked along behind the cat as he sniffed and pulled, circled back a few times, and sniffed some more. He poked his head into nooks and crannies among the debris an
d pawed at a few things that interested him, including the green plastic thing they’d tossed aside. Finally, Rags stopped. He sniffed the air, took a few steps toward an old wheelbarrow filled with topsy-turvy crates, then sat down and stared. After a few moments, he moved forward and put his paws up on the edge of the wheelbarrow. What happened next startled everyone, most of all Rags, for a cat emerged from the crates and slapped him on the nose.

  “Uh-oh,” Savannah said. “Poor Rags.” She leaned down and checked him over. “No blood. You’re okay, boy.” She then said, “Auntie, I think we have some kittens over here. Or maybe just a cantankerous cat.”

  Once Luke and Margaret, with Lily in the stroller, joined Savannah, Luke began carefully moving things and eventually revealed a brand new litter of kittens and one very protective momma cat.

  “Is she on your inventory list?” Savannah asked.

  Margaret shook her head. “I don’t think so. What are there—five kittens? I think we would have noticed a belly full of that many, don’t you?” She then said, “Here, Vannie, watch your baby; I’ll get a carrier.”

  Once the kittens and their mother were safely inside the carrier, Luke went to work loading the traps, which were holding some very vocal cats, into his van.

  Margaret stood by with her inventory sheet. “That’s four more.”

  “Ten counting the new feline family,” Savannah said.

  Luke looked around. “Gosh, this is one of the biggest colonies I’ve seen. Ms. June had a lot of cats living in that ravine on her property, but I don’t think there were this many.”

  “Yeah, a record number,” Margaret agreed. She looked around. “And still there are a lot of them left—including some inside.”

  “There are cats inside there?” he asked. “Are they being cared for?”

  “You know what,” Margaret said, “they’re all in good shape. I do believe someone is living in there or else visiting often and taking care of those cats. We’ve left food for them, but they aren’t eating much of it.” She faced Luke. “There are birds inside too.”