by Patricia Fry
“It’s the bird,” Aggie said quietly. “He’s watching us now, you know.”
“The raven?” Margaret asked, glancing around the property. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t want to be seen. But he’s out there and he’s aware of us.” Aggie smiled. “He’s a playful devil.” When Savannah looked quizzically at her, Aggie said, “I don’t know that for sure, but that’s what I’m sensing. Sometimes I sense things, you know.”
Chapter 10
A few days later Savannah and Aggie were walking with Lily and a slightly reluctant Rags through the orchard, checking the fruit on the trees, when Aggie swooned. “Oh, this reminds me of my childhood on the family farm. We had so many different types of fruit and I was expected to help with preserving it, canning it, drying it. We did it all.” Aggie glanced up. “Oh, who’s that?”
Savannah looked. “I don’t know.” The women watched as a man in his thirties or early forties approached them. “Hello,” she said.
“Good morning. Beautiful day, isn’t it? And your fruit trees look healthy and happy. You’ll be busy putting up fruit before too long, won’t you?” He leaned toward Lily. “Will you help Mommy and Grandma with that chore?”
Lily stepped behind Savannah and held onto her leg.
Savannah put her hand out. “I’m Savannah Ivey. This is Aggie Harmon, visiting from Connecticut.” She shook her head, saying, “…actually Rhode Island.”
Aggie waved her hand in the air. “Yeah, same difference. You can drive through several of those tiny states in a matter of hours like you do your counties here in California.”
He laughed and offered his hand. “I’m Clay Dawson. I used to live in that tract over there. We moved a couple of months ago, but one of our family members didn’t make the move with us and I’ve been on the lookout for him ever since.”
“What?” Savannah said. “A family member is lost?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “Well, he’s not of the human kind. It’s a bird—you know, a raven to be exact. I keep coming back here, hoping he’ll see me and land on my shoulder like he used to do. But I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him. Oh, he’s still around. Our house is vacant and I’ve been going back there and leaving treats for Jonathan…”
“Jonathan?”
“Yes, that’s his name. And he answers to it too. Well, I see evidence that he’s still around here, but doggone if I can get him to perch. He must like his new-found freedom.” He gazed at Rags as the cat sniffed around a patch of weeds. “Maybe I should have kept him on a leash when I gave him outdoor time.” He looked at Savannah, then Aggie. “So have you seen him?”
“Probably,” Savannah said. “We have seen a big black bird that we think is a raven. He tried to pull my husband’s hair out.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry. Yes, I’m afraid that’s Jonathan, all right.” He began looking around the yard, in the trees, on the ground, in the shadows. He chuckled. “He also likes trinkets.”
“Trinkets?” Savannah asked. She tilted her head and squinted. “Do you mean like jewelry, keys, and small tools?”
Clay Dawson nodded. “Anything shiny that he can carry, yes.” He glanced around the area again. “So you have met my best friend, have you?” He winced. “What has he taken from you?”
Savannah grinned. “Jewelry, keys, and small tools.”
Clay let out a sigh of frustration. “How am I ever going to get him back?”
“Have you tried trapping him like we do cats?” Savannah asked. “…I mean, in a humane trap?”
“No. He’s too smart for that.”
“He won’t just come to you?” Aggie asked.
Clay shook his head.
Suddenly Savannah noticed Rags pulling on his leash. He hunkered down and behaved as if he wanted to make a run for the house. “Rags, what are you doing?” she asked. Suddenly, it occurred to her. “Hey, I’ll bet your bird is watching us right now. Do you have any of his treats?”
The man nodded. He looked around the yard again.
Savannah crouched next to the cat and asked, “Where is he, Rags?”
“The cat is going to find my bird?” he asked, tilting his head suspiciously.
“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt him.”
“I’m sure of that. Jonathan’s pretty ornery where cats are concerned. We have a cat and that poor thing stays hidden whenever Jonathan is out of his cage.”
“You let your bird fly around inside your house?”
“Yes, he’s house-trained. He belonged to a guy who trained animals for the movies.”
“So where is he?” Savannah asked the cat. When she saw Rags look sideways toward the corral and tug toward the house, she said, “I’ll bet he’s in that tree behind the corral or on the corral fence in the shadows.”
Savannah tried to lead Rags in that direction, but he planted his paws and refused to walk. Suddenly, Aggie called, “Watch out!”
Savannah looked up in time to see a black streak flying toward Rags. She quickly picked up the cat and turned her back to the bird, who skimmed the top of her ponytail as he flew into one of the apricot trees.
“Jonathan,” the man said. He then instructed, “If you ladies will stand back I think I can lure him.”
“Do you want a cat carrier or something?” Savannah asked as she and Aggie scrambled to get themselves and Lily out of the way.
He shook his head and spoke quietly and calmly. “Once I can get him to come to me, he should become obedient. I have his cage over at the old house. I’m pretty sure he’ll let me walk him over there.” He looked up at the bird, then moved closer, talking to him quietly. Finally, Jonathan hopped from the tree onto Clay’s shoulder and began accepting treats from his hand. “We’re going to walk home now,” he said, still calmly and quietly. “Listen, you said you’re missing things. I found some jewelry and other items lying around the place over there, if you’d like to come over and take a look. Maybe some of it’s yours.” He put his hand up. “Give me a few minutes to get him settled in his cage, then come over, okay? It’s 212 Baker.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
****
“So you found your ring?” Michael asked Savannah later that day as they sat at the kitchen table.
She nodded.
“Bird take ring, Daddy,” Lily explained. “Bad bird,” she said, shaking her finger. “Bird take GranGran pen.”
“Isn’t she just the cutest thing?” Aggie said. She confirmed what Lily had said. “Yes, it seems the raven is the culprit who took my sparkle pen when I set it down to walk into the orchard with Savannah. But I got it back.” She leaned forward and grinned at Michael. “Your cat helped that man capture his bird.”
Michael shook his head. “This is just too much, having a klepto bird and a klepto cat in the same community, let alone the same neighborhood.”
Aggie began to giggle. “You know, I’m an on-the-go gal and I do like to keep busy. But I don’t know if I can survive being here with you people and your clever cat. My goodness, there’s never a dull moment, is there? In Connecticut it was the cat finding someone’s passport. Here, the cat finds the bird that’s been taking everyone’s belongings.” She turned to Savannah. “You started to tell me about the feral cats. Have you located and rescued all of them?”
Before Savannah could respond, Gladys walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom. Did you have a nice nap?”
“Sure did. I don’t know why I was so tired when I got here this afternoon. Maybe it was the traffic. It was the worst I’ve seen. Well, those two accidents didn’t help.” She hugged her daughter. “But I feel much better now.” She reached out and squeezed Aggie’s hand, then asked, “Can I help with anything?”
“We’re just waiting for the potatoes to cook. Come sit with us. Want a glass of tea, water, lemonade?”
“Water sounds good.” Gladys motioned for Savannah to stay seated. “I’ll get it.” She turned to the others. “Ca
n I get you something?”
Savannah shook her head, then said, “To answer your question, Aggie, yes, we think we got all of the feral cats. At least we hope so.”
“Now, you say they were living in an old seminary?” Aggie asked.
“Yes, mostly under the building, but some of them were inside.” Savannah shuddered. “It’s a spooky old place. I had hoped we’d visited it for the last time several weeks ago, but my aunt, who’s more experienced with colony rescues, says it’s important to check back every once in a while just to make sure. I think she suspects there are more cats. If so, they may have recently found their way there. We’ve been leaving food and someone’s eating it.”
“I’d like to see the place next time you go out there,” Aggie said.
“Sure, I think Auntie wants to do a check tomorrow, actually. I’ll ask if we can ride along with her.”
“Why don’t you take your cat?” Michael suggested. “He’s not getting much exercise, since he’s still so cautious about that bird having been in his yard. And he might be able to help you find any cats that have wandered in.”
After thinking about it, Savannah said, “Good idea. Okay, we’ll make it a family affair out at the seminary tomorrow.” She turned to Gladys. “Mom, want to go with us?”
“I think I’ll pass. How about if I entertain Lily while you gals go do your exploring?”
****
The three women and Rags arrived at the feral-cat-colony site around ten the following morning. While Savannah and Aggie scanned the building and the grounds, Margaret prepared two small carriers. “Just in case we need them,” she said.
“So this is a former seminary,” Aggie said. “Hasn’t been loved in a very long time, has it?”
“It appears that way,” Margaret agreed.
“Auntie, you rescued all of the black cats, didn’t you?”
Margaret nodded. “At least I hope so. It was a total of three adults and all those cute babies. But I always like to do a follow-up for as long as we have access, just in case we’ve left one behind or new cats have found their way here. Some feral cats can be awfully slippery and even invisible.”
“Invisible?” Aggie questioned.
Savannah looped her arm in Aggie’s. “If a cat doesn’t want to be caught or even seen, she can be mighty cunning, right Auntie?”
“Right,” Margaret agreed. “Sometimes you find the stragglers—those that are most expert at staying hidden—simply from what they leave or take from the environment.” When Aggie looked confused, she explained, “Is someone eating the food we leave? Is there evidence of cats using the little beds we’ve placed here and there? Are the toys disturbed?”
“So you operate as if cats still live here, do you?” Aggie asked.
Margaret nodded. “For a little while.” She smiled. “But sometimes it’s raccoons or squirrels messing with things. We sometimes have to do some mighty slick detective work in order to determine what sort of critter we’re dealing with.”
“Can’t you set one of those have-a-heart traps?”
“Sure. We generally do that too. But, as Vannie said, some cats are just more clever than others.” Margaret walked toward the feeding station and examined the area around it. “Not much activity here. Looks more like birds have been nibbling on the food, than cats.” She chuckled. “And maybe taking a bath in the water bowl.” She looked at the building. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”
“Yes,” Aggie said. “I’ve always been fascinated by historic buildings, especially before they’re restored.” When she noticed the others looking at her, she added, “You get a more genuine feel for the history of the place when it’s still in the raw—when the past hasn’t been washed and painted away.”
Savannah tilted her head. “Oh, I never thought about that before.” She glanced at her aunt. “I think the two of us have had more than enough reality where this place is concerned, right Auntie?”
“You got that right. I’ve never been so glad to finish a rescue operation.” Margaret gazed at the building. “I hope this is the last time I have to come out here.” She let out a deep sigh. “Well, let’s go in and see what we find, shall we?” Before walking in that direction, however, Margaret trotted back toward the car and pulled a small blanket out of the backseat.
The women entered through the small door under the belfry and walked into the original reception area when Aggie gasped. “Oh my. Conflict. I sense awful conflict within these walls.” When she noticed the others staring at her, she said, “I can’t help it. It’s something I was born with, I guess. Walls of old places tend to talk to me.” She grinned. “Or else I have a big imagination.” She continued. “I had to leave the Alamo when I visited there in Texas as a child because of the tension I felt. I didn’t know what it was, but my parents couldn’t get me to stop crying until after we’d left the place. Later in life I realized that I get these strong feelings when I enter an old building or even a site where the building no longer stands.” She looked at Savannah, then Margaret. “Sometimes it’s light and happy feelings.” She frowned. “Other times…” she shuddered.
“What do you sense?” Savannah asked. “Certainly not a war zone.”
“Oh no, it’s not so much violence,” she cocked her head, “although, there’s some of that. It’s a conflict of values and beliefs. Now that’s rather odd for a place like this, don’t you think so?”
Suddenly, Margaret looked at the storage area under the staircase. “The occult stuff,” she said, pointing.
“Occult?” Savannah repeated.
“Yes. Remember, we found all that stuff in the storage area under the stairs. I took some of the photographs home.” She winced when she looked at Savannah. “I guess I never showed those to you.”
“No, you didn’t. What did you find?”
“Well, do you remember all that voodoo and other weird ritual stuff Iris was talking about?”
“Yes,” Savannah said. “But I didn’t take it too seriously.”
“Well, it was serious, Vannie. Those photos showed things that I’d consider completely against what a religious seminary would or should stand for. Know what I mean?” She hesitated and asked, “Do you remember Iris telling us about the robes those people out in the forest wore and the shiny belts?”
Savannah nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, some of the pictures I found show people wearing that garb—shiny silver belts and all. Max and I wonder if she was right—that there were people secretly practicing some sort of witchcraft right here under the noses of the seminary leaders.”
“Well, that could explain what I sense in this room—“ Aggie said, “—a conflict of convictions or principles.” She raised her eyebrows. “When people are at odds over something as personal and strong as religious or spiritual beliefs, things can get ugly. Isn’t that what many of this world’s wars are about?”
Savannah wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “Well, let’s finish our search and get back to a house with nice walls, shall we?”
Aggie smiled at her. When she noticed that Rags had walked to the end of his leash toward the staircase, she addressed the cat. “You want to go upstairs? What’s up there, huh, boy?”
“Yes, let’s go up there,” Margaret said. “I want to check the food I left.” She turned to Aggie. “We found a whole family of black cats living in here. We think we rescued them all, but just to be sure, I left food in here and we propped the door open.” As they approached the indoor feeding station at the top of the staircase, Margaret exclaimed, “Oh!”
“Looks like someone’s been eating here,” Savannah said, shining her flashlight into the hallway.
“Yes,” Margaret agreed. “Darn, we did leave someone behind.” Under her breath, she said, “Now, where are you? Gosh, I hope he’ll let us take him. I sure don’t want to come out here again.”
Just then Savannah put up her hand. “Shhh. Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“No. What?” Margaret asked.
“Listen.” Savannah pointed toward the end of the hall. “That way.”
“Oh, I hear it.” Margaret walked swiftly in the direction Savannah indicated, muttering, “Oh my gosh, it’s a cat in trouble.” She stepped into the last room on the right. “Where is it? I hear it, but I don’t see it.”
Meanwhile, Rags pulled toward the back of the room and Savannah did her best to keep up with him. When he stopped and began meowing and pawing at the wall, she said, “Isn’t that where we found the secret room? I think there’s a cat in there. Kitty-kitty,” she trilled.
The women listened and heard nothing.
“Well, do you remember how we opened that hidden door, Vannie?”
“Yeah, I sort of fell into it.” She ran one hand over the wall. “Come help me, Auntie. We’re bound to find the release. If not, I’ll get Michael out here with a sledgehammer.”
“Wait,” Margaret said. “I heard a click. Now, we don’t want the cat to run out past us. We need a strategy. Vannie, why don’t you see if you can get this wall to open and I’ll block the doorway. I can toss this blanket over the cat if he’s wily. Aggie, why don’t you stand over to the right there? Vannie, give Aggie the cat’s leash.” Once everyone was in place Margaret said, “Okay, see if you can move the wall.”
Margaret was right. The click she’d heard had disengaged the secret door. When Savannah put her hands on it, it began to move.
“Slowly, Vannie,” Margaret coached. “We don’t want him to get away.”
However, when Savannah opened the door, a cat did not appear. She shined her light around the room. “Oh no. Auntie, you’re not going to believe this.”
“Good God, what now?” Margaret asked.
“Come look,” Savannah encouraged.
Margaret and Aggie quickly joined Savannah at the opening and looked in the direction of the light.
“Uh-oh,” Aggie said when Rags began to tug.
Savannah quickly took the leash from her and struggled to hold him back. “I think that cat’s caught in the closet door! Oh my gosh, look how fat she is—lumpy fat. She’s expecting, like any minute.”