The Time Thief

by Angela Dorsey

  The next room was the dining room. A large dust-coated table stood squarely in the centre of the room with six intricately carved chairs around it. A display case filled with grimy blue dishes stood at attention in the corner.

  Mika ran her finger along the surface of the table. She started to write her name in the thick dust but then thought better of it and brushed her hand over the M. A deep mahogany shine appeared where her hand had been.

  This would be the perfect place to have a Halloween party, she thought. If we decorated it to make it spookier and cleaned it up a bit.

  She walked across the filthy rug to a door on the other side of the table. The next room was the entrance hall — and the cat’s cries were coming from behind the door across the hall.

  Mika hurried toward the door, but halfway across the entrance hall, she stopped. Terror trickled icy fingers across her shoulders as she turned. Back in the recesses of the hall, an elegant staircase rose to the second storey. But there was something wrong with it, something terribly wrong. It seemed stained with shadows, and the top steps were engulfed in absolute night. Mika swallowed. It would be so easy for someone to watch her from up there. So easy for them to swoop down the stairs and …

  She raced across the entrance hall, unbolted the door to the outside, and ran out onto the front porch. Gulping deep breaths, she filled her lungs with clean air, again and again. The cool breeze swept into the entrance hall, fluttering the cobwebs around the doorway.

  The cat, hearing Mika so close, renewed its desperate cries, but Mika couldn’t go back in. Not yet. She needed to calm down first. She needed to be reasonable. What was she doing, letting her imagination go wild like that? What was she — five years old? She stared out at the pink clouds for another long moment, trying to concentrate on the sunset, on the weedy field, on anything but the darkness that lurked at the top of the stairs.

  “Here I am, kitty. Don’t worry,” she finally said, turning around. It took all the courage she had to step back into the hall and look up the dark stairway — to find that the sun’s last rays had melted the darkness.

  With immense relief, Mika opened the door to the next room. A white blur streaked out, and even though she’d been expecting the cat, her heart lurched in her chest. Halfway across the hall, the cat gracefully turned and strolled back to her, its tail in the air. A deep purr erupted from the small body.

  “Oh, you’re so pretty,” Mika said as she bent to stroke the soft fur. The cat arched its back with pleasure and meowed, so she picked it up and snuggled it under her chin. “Do you want to come home with me? Mom and Dad might let me keep you. Maybe,” she added doubtfully, then buried her nose in the white fur. “You smell so good, kitty.”

  Mika laughed as the cat licked her on the end of her nose, then she turned toward the door she’d just opened. Maybe she should check out how it had gotten inside the room. What if more innocent creatures became trapped inside the house, and she wasn’t there to rescue the next one?

  She carried the cat back into one of the most beautiful rooms she’d ever seen. A plump red velvet couch stood against the far wall, and matching chairs were scattered around the room. Elegant plant stands and small coffee tables lingered beside them. Gold-framed landscapes hung between the tall windows and a Persian rug spread across the floor, its muted blues, greens, and golds gracefully intertwined. The ceiling was high and a smiling pink and white cherub looked down from each corner. As a final touch, the light spilled in through the windows, covering everything in the sunset’s pink glow.

  Mika felt the cat stiffen in her arms as she walked to the far side of the room and bent to stroke the seat of the velvet couch. “It’s okay, kitty. We’ll go in a minute,” she said and turned.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Someone was there. Someone was looking at her!

  She jumped toward the door, panic rising in her like a swift storm. The cat let out a tiny, frightened meow, and Mika clutched it closer to her chest. The person watching them didn’t move. Mika stopped and stared, then laughed unnaturally loud. It was a painting! A life-sized portrait that took up most of the wall. The woman in the painting was sitting on a couch like the one Mika had touched, with the same tall windows painted behind.

  She was painted in this room, Mika realized, glancing back at the couch. It’s like a reflection from a mirror.

  She walked closer to the portrait. A huge black hound was at the woman’s feet, gazing lovingly up into its owner’s face. But the woman seemed to be staring directly at her. Mika took a quick step to the side. The woman still seemed to be glaring at her. She moved further to the side, and the painted eyes appeared to follow her without moving.

  “Freaky.” Mika stepped closer to the portrait to get a better look in the deepening gloom. She raised her eyebrows at the red and purple scarf tied in the woman’s hair. “What a gross scarf. And weird clothes.”

  But the woman was beautiful. Mika could see that despite the outdated fashions. Her face was a perfect oval. Blonde hair fell across her pale shoulders and her eyes were blue. A frigid, icy blue. Like glaciers. Suddenly the woman didn’t look so pretty. The rage in the cold eyes seemed to twist the painted face into a contorted mask.

  Mika looked around the room. The beauty she had first seen in it was gone now too. Instead, it seemed like the woman in the picture: pretty on the outside but unwelcoming and hostile underneath.

  “I was wrong. This place would be lousy for a party.”

  The cat stirred in her arms.

  “I agree, kitty. Let’s get out of here.” Mika took one more look at the painting and began to turn away, but then her gaze caught the small bright label attached to the frame. Leaning closer, she squinted in the last glimmers of light. Etched in the metal were the words Lucinda, Hunter, and Cloud.

  Puzzled, Mika looked back at the painting. “You must be Lucinda,” she said, directing her gaze to the haughty face. She almost stuck her tongue out but controlled herself at the last moment. “And you must be Hunter,” she said to the black hound. “But Cloud? Who’s Cloud?” There was no other figure in the portrait. Then Mika noted that the woman sat to one side of the couch. Maybe Cloud had sat on the other side. Someone must have painted over him.

  The cat squirmed again.

  “Sorry, kitty. I’m ready to go, this time for sure.” But she stopped again halfway to the door. What was that sound? Almost like a sigh. Or a whisper of rage. She spun around and cried out, then staggered backward. The cat dug its claws through her jacket, but she barely felt it.

  Black shadows were spilling from the portrait, flowing down the wall like dark water!

  Mika backed swiftly into the entrance hall, the cat curled into a tense ball on her chest. “Don’t be stupid,” she sputtered. “It’s a trick of the light. That’s all. It’s not real.”

  But her reasonable words didn’t stop her from wanting to get away from the house as quickly as she could. She dashed out the door, leapt down the front porch stairs two at a time, and tore down the overgrown driveway. The long grass twisted and pulled at her feet in the half-light, and the cat’s head bobbed and lurched as she held its little body tight in her arms.

  It took forever to reach the road, and even there, she couldn’t make herself stop. Her lungs strained for air, and her heart thundered in her ears as she ran toward home, the visit to Aimee’s house forgotten.

  When she reached Chocolate Drop’s pasture, she left the road and leaned on his fence to catch her breath. She felt safer here. She turned back and looked toward the old house. Its eyes were almost as black as the rest of it now that the sun was down; it was nothing more than a big dark lump in a field.

  “I’m such an idiot,” Mika said, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m glad no one saw me run.”

  Chocolate Drop nickered to her and Mika smiled.

  “I know you saw me, Chocolate, but you’d never tease me.” She stroked the white cat, and the little animal began to purr again. “I need to find a name for you, little
guy. Or girl. Whatever you are.”

  Chocolate Drop followed Mika, his tiny hooves whispering through the grass as she walked slowly along the paddock fence toward home. The cat reached up to rub her cheek, and she felt her heart grow warm.

  Suddenly, she heard a distant bang. She stopped to listen. The sound came again, and again.

  Mika fought back her panic.

  It can’t be. That’s impossible!

  But impossible or not, it sounded just like someone slamming doors. Three doors. Like the three she’d left open in the entrance hall before she ran from the abandoned house.

  Chapter 3

  The first thing Mika heard when she stopped outside her house was Billy yelling, “No. No. I don’t want that story!”

  Thinking it was the most wonderful, normal thing she’d ever heard, she sat on the porch steps to think. Not about the abandoned house or the noises she’d heard. She didn’t want to think about that, ever. Besides, there was something more urgent to figure out. Like what was she going to do with the cat she’d rescued?

  “You’d like to live with me, wouldn’t you, kitty?” she whispered to the furry white ball curled on her lap. The cat mewed in reply. “Then you’ve got to be quiet so I can sneak you up to my room.”

  Shrieks of laughter spilled from an upstairs window. Mom must have chosen a book the Trio approved of. Good. They’d be less likely to notice her sneaking past their room. She put the cat inside her jacket and zipped it up. Luckily, the creature was small, so the bulge it made wasn’t too noticeable. It lay still against Mika’s stomach and even stopped purring, as if it understood the need to be quiet.

  Mika opened the door and leaned into the kitchen. It was empty, and no TV noises came from the living room. Dad must still be hiding in his office. She hurried through the kitchen, ran silently up the stairs, and tiptoed past the twins’ room.

  “I hate mornings,” she heard her mom say in her special Garfield voice, “I wish they came later.”

  Mika smiled. Mom had been reading them Little Lord Fauntleroy last week. She’d probably been hoping it would inspire the Trio to be like the polite, nice boy in the book. Apparently, her listeners had protested.

  Finally Mika reached her own room. She stepped inside and quietly shut the door behind her, unzipped her jacket, and lifted the cat onto the bed to examine it.

  The cat was a girl, and she wasn’t totally white, as Mika had first thought. Over one ear, across her back, and at the end of her tail were dove-grey patches not much darker than the creamy white covering the rest of her body. Mika stroked the velvet fur and the cat purred loudly.

  “I hope Mom and Dad will let me keep you,” Mika said wistfully. “They wouldn’t let me keep Tiger, but that was a long time ago. Things are different now.”

  She frowned as she remembered the black-and-white kitten she’d found behind the school two years ago. He was so cute! Mika had fallen in love with him within seconds and even named him, but when she brought him home, her parents said she couldn’t keep him. She still remembered how horrible it was to give Tiger to Marshall, a boy in her class. She knew Marshall would take good care of Tiger, but she wanted him for her own. She went to visit him as soon as she felt she wouldn’t burst into tears the moment she saw him. But she’d left it too long. Tiger didn’t remember her. Mika had felt so awful about it that she never went back.

  However, though she hated to admit it, now she could understand her parents’ reasoning. They’d known that her little brothers were too young and would be too rough with Tiger. But now the Trio was older, so maybe …

  “If I promise to teach them to be nice to you, they might say yes,” she said. The cat was washing her shoulder and ignoring Mika in the focused way that only cats can. Mika lay on her back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her parents would say no. She just knew it. Her dad was a lot grumpier than he used to be and her mom a lot more harried. Plus, the Trio was brattier. Why would her parents say yes?

  The cat stopped washing herself and stepped cautiously onto Mika’s chest. She purred as she settled, tucked her paws beneath her, and stared down on the girl’s face with half-closed eyes. Mika relaxed as the soft rumble fell around her like warm mists, shifting and swaying. She smiled as the cat adjusted her weight. The purr softened.

  “I could call you Misty,” Mika whispered, “because your grey spots look like the mists over the river.” She paused and breathed deep. “Or Angel, because you’re perfect. A little cat angel.” The cat purred louder. “Angel. My Angel,” said Mika, testing the name. “Yeah. That’s it. Angel.”

  Mika heard her twin brothers yell goodnight to her mom. A minute later, Mom said goodnight to Joseph, shut his bedroom door, and walked down the stairs.

  “They’re not expecting me home for almost half an hour, Angel,” said Mika and lifted the little cat from her chest. She stood up. “That’ll give me enough time to make a litter box and get you something to eat and drink.”

  She shut the door carefully behind her, then listened for a moment to make sure Angel didn’t meow for her. The bedroom was silent. Quietly, Mika hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. She phoned Aimee to tell her she wasn’t coming, and when Aimee asked why, Mika said she’d show her tomorrow at their fort. Then she found a small cardboard box in the corner of the garage, lined it with a plastic garbage bag, and took it into the back yard to scoop some dirt inside.

  On the way back to the garage with her homemade litter box, Mika heard voices. She stopped beneath the window to her dad’s home office and stretched up to see Dad pacing back and forth, his face red. Mom was standing in the doorway, watching him.

  “How can you say that, Adele?” The rage in his voice made Mika want to cringe. “You don’t know what I’ve lost.”

  Mom reached out to touch his arm, but he shrugged her away, then stood glaring at her. For a moment, neither of them said a word. Then Mika’s mom began to speak. Mika couldn’t hear most of what she said, because her mom spoke quietly, but she heard a few scattered phrases like “you’re going to lose even more, Henry,” and “they don’t understand what’s happening.” Mom’s eyes begged him to listen to her, and for a moment, Mika thought he was, but then he started to pace again, his expression furious.

  When Mom looked toward the window, Mika ducked. But not before she noticed the resolve on her mother’s face. Mom had more to say, and she was going to say it, no matter what. When Dad started yelling again, Mika ran toward the back door. She couldn’t stand to hear them fight any more.

  Angel woke when Mika crept into the bedroom. The little cat raised her head and gave a sleepy mew, then snuggled down again. A door slammed downstairs. Mika listened, breathless, as the car started up and drove away. Tears prickled her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had Angel’s food to think of. She put the box on the floor by her closet, then headed downstairs again.

  She’d just opened the fridge when Mom walked into the kitchen. “You’re back early,” Mom said as she poured water into a glass. “I thought you were staying out until nine.”

  “I didn’t even get to Aimee’s house. I stopped in the woods for a while and then it was dark.” Mika glanced at her mom’s face. She didn’t look upset. Maybe everything was okay.

  “I imagine the woods seemed really nice and quiet tonight,” Mom said, a wistful note in her voice.

  “Mom?” Mika straightened. “Is everything okay with Dad?”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Mom said. “Your dad needs some time to think, that’s all. It’s normal for people to be sad, and sometimes even angry, when someone they love dies, but they get better after a while. Everything’s fine.”

  Quickly, Mika looked inside the fridge to hide the doubt on her face. Thankfully, Angel’s needs were there to distract her once again. She took the leftover casserole out of the fridge, grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and filled it, and then with her emotions in check, carried the bowl to the table and sat down.

  She took a deep breath.
“Mom, I know you said I couldn’t have a pet because of Billy and Matt, but now that they’re older I was wondering ...” Her voice trailed away as her mom stared at her with tired eyes.

  She’s going to say no.

  Mika jumped up to pour some water into a glass, then grabbed the bowl of food from the table and hurried toward the kitchen door.

  “Just a minute, Mika,” her mom called after her. She waited as Mika reluctantly returned and met her gaze. “I know you’ve wanted a pet for a long time now, and you’re certainly responsible enough to have one. I have no doubt you’d keep it healthy and happy, plus I know if you got a dog that you’d train it well.”

  “Yes, Mom! I know I would too,” Mika replied, excitement overflowing from her voice. She plunked the bowl and glass down on the table and wrung her hands. “But I would really like a cat.”

  “As you know, the problem is your brothers.”

  “But they go to kindergarten now,” countered Mika. “They’re older and more mature.”

  Mom laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t count on that,” she said. She paused for a moment, looking first at her glass of water, then at Mika. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “Let me think about it for a while.”

  “All right!” That meant yes, though her mom didn’t want to commit yet.

  “Don’t get too excited now,” her mom said, a warning in her voice. “Even if we decide you can have a pet, I’d like you to prepare first. You can read books about cat care and save some money to get it spayed or neutered. Next year would be a better time to get an animal anyway, when the twins are in school full time.”

  All the elation drained out of Mika as she thought of Angel. The cat was here now. Where was she going to keep her for a whole year?