The Cats that Surfed the Web

by Golden, Karen

  It was late when Katherine and Colleen went to bed. Before going to their rooms, they vowed to sleep in late the next morning.

  “Good night, Katz,” Colleen said, walking down the hall.

  “Waugh,” Scout said, following her.

  Colleen went into her room, but before she could shut her door, she had to evict the unwanted guest. “Sorry, this room is a no-cat zone,” Colleen said, escorting Scout out and shutting the door.

  “Come on, kids. Let’s get our pajamas on. That includes you, Scout.” Katherine called from the end of the hall.

  “Waugh,” Scout protested. She trotted down the hall. Lilac and Abigail were already in the bedroom and were crunching on dry food from their dishes while Iris peered down from the edge of the Eastlake dresser—her head angled downward like a vulture’s—ready to pounce on the unsuspecting orphan below.

  “Iris,” Katherine warned. “Be good. Remember, Abby is from Egypt and she might send you another snake.”

  “Yowl,” Iris complained.

  * * * *

  The next morning Katherine struggled out of bed at ten-thirty. She met Colleen in the hallway. Colleen's face was smeared with a green facial mask.

  “You look a fright,” Katherine said. “I hate to tell you this, but someone really screwed up at the cosmetic counter.”

  “It’s natural clay,” Colleen boasted.

  “Clay is gray or red. Trust me, you’re green.”

  Scout trotted down the hall and stopped dead in her tracks. She gazed intently at Colleen, then spat a hiss. She scurried downstairs.

  “I’ve got to wash this mess off.”

  “Did I hear the phone ring?” Katherine asked.

  “You won’t believe who called me.”

  “Who has the number here?”

  “My Mum gave it to Jacky, who gave it to Mario. He called me. Can you believe it? He asked me out for next weekend.”

  “For a second date? Good work, Mario.”

  “You won’t believe what he sang to me?”

  “Let me guess—a bit of Gangnam Style?”

  “Uptown Girl. She’s been living in her uptown world . . .” Colleen launched into a female rendition of Billy Joel’s famous song, complete with Irish brogue intonations.

  “Stop,” Katherine said, covering her ears.

  Colleen exploded with laughter and went into the bathroom.

  * * * *

  For a couple of hours during the afternoon, the outside temperature warmed up to forty degrees, which allowed Katherine to open the front door for half an hour to air out the stuffy house. While Katherine was busy cleaning upstairs, Colleen was working downstairs. They had flipped a coin—heads for upstairs and tails for downstairs. Katherine picked heads and was relieved she didn’t have to tackle the kitchen. Colleen was elated that she didn’t have to do cat litter patrol. Every once in a while, the two would stop to take a few sips of sweet tea, call up and down to each other, and discuss the latest antics by one or more of the four cats. Each discussion began with “You’ll not believe what so-and-so just did”. They would laugh and then resume their frenzied cleaning activity.

  Occasionally the Siamese would hinder their efforts. Lilac was terrified of the vacuum cleaner and had to be consoled after each room was swept. In the kitchen while Colleen tried to sweep, Iris stalked the broom. Several times she pounced on the bristles, used them as a springboard, and scurried to another part of the house. Scout prowled restlessly, walking back and forth the full length of the living room. She stopped to rub each piece of furniture with her jaw, marking and remarking her new territory. Each time a piece of furniture was waxed, Scout would dance across it, leaving fresh paw prints in her wake. Meanwhile, Abigail had climbed to the top of a window valance and quietly observed the scene below.

  After several hours, Katherine called from the top of the stairs, “Are you finished with the vacuum cleaner?”

  “Yes, Katz,” Colleen yelled from the walk-in closet in the atrium. “Come down here for a minute. I want you to show you something.”

  Katherine hurried down the stairs two at a time, “What?”

  Colleen was pointing at a brand new Hoover packing box. “I had to unpack it to use it.”

  “Wow, no wonder the house was so dusty,” Katherine joked. “Mark mentioned that my great aunt made a charitable gift to some organization, which would explain all the empty closets and replacement appliances.”

  “Can’t complain about new,” Colleen shrugged with a smile.

  At two p.m., Colleen and Katherine stopped long enough to eat sandwiches and then returned to their work. At four they threw in the towel. Colleen went off to the kitchen to brew some flavored coffee, while Katherine put away the vacuum sweeper in the near empty cloak closet. When she joined Colleen in the kitchen she inhaled deeply. “Hazelnut. My favorite.”

  In another room, something large and heavy crashed to the floor.

  “Did you hear that?” Katherine said.

  “What have they done now?” Colleen threw her hands in the air. “Shouldn’t we go upstairs and check?”

  “No, it sounded more like it came from the basement.”

  “It’s probably just an icicle. They’re some really big ones hanging on the gutters. They’re melting,” Colleen said.

  There was another loud thump.

  “That didn’t sound like an icicle,” Katherine said, bolting out of the room. She ran up the stairs and went directly to the bedroom. The Siamese were curled up and sleeping on the bed. She then went back downstairs.

  “What did they break this time?” Colleen asked.

  “Nothing. They’re asleep. It must have been something out on the street. Have you seen Abby?”

  “She’s not with the Siamese?”

  “No, she’s not.”

  “Last time I saw her, she was prowling around like Scout does, going from room to room, sniffing everything.”

  “Abby,” Katherine called, concerned.

  There was a loud thud nearby.

  “That didn’t come from the basement,” Colleen said.

  “It sounded like it came from the living room, but I distinctly shut all of those pocket doors.”

  They rushed into the atrium, slid open one of the pocket doors, and then darted inside to find Abigail sitting demurely in a large flowerpot that contained a tall rubber plant. The surrounding planters had been turned over—their soil spread everywhere. The remnants of shredded plants were strewn across the oriental carpet.

  “What a mess,” Katherine said, aghast.

  “Chirp,” Abigail announced proudly from the flowerpot.

  “‘Tis the worse mess I’ve ever seen,” Colleen noted. “How did she get in here?”

  “I must have closed her in when I shut the doors.”

  “Abby,” Katherine scolded, walking over to the guilty-looking cat. Abigail leapt out of the flowerpot and rocketed out of the room.

  “I hate to tell you this, Katz, but I think this mess requires more than the Hoover. We need the help of your handy dandy man.”

  “I’ve got his business card. I’ll give him a call,” Katherine said wearily. She went to the atrium phone and dialed Cokey Cokenberger’s number. A male voice answered on the third ring.

  “Cokenberger Contracting,” he said.

  “Hello, Mr. Cokenberger. This is Katherine Kendall.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m the son. Let me get my Dad.” He put the phone down, then yelled, “Dad, you’re wanted on the phone. It’s that lady from the pink house.”

  “Just a second, Tommy,” Cokey called to his son. “And it’s ‘Ms. Kendall,’ not that lady,” he corrected.

  The son got back on the line. “He’s in the kitchen. Ah, here he is,” he said handing his father the phone.

  “Hello, Ms. Kendall?” he said in an out-of-breath but friendly voice.

  “Hello, Mr. Cokenberger.”

  “Cokey. Call me Cokey,” he insisted.

  “I’m sorry to disturb
you at home, but I’ve got a bit of problem over here at the house. One of my cats decided to rearrange the flowerpots in the living room. I need your help to carry what remains of the potted plants to a place where the cats can’t get them.”

  “What happened?” he asked, mystified.

  “Abigail dumped all of the flower pots and has made an incredible mess. There’s potting soil everywhere.”

  “That sweet little girl? Surely not,” he chuckled. “I’m just finishing my supper and I’ll be over directly. I’ll bring my Shop-Vac.” He hung up.

  “Supper,” Katherine said. “It’s not even five p.m.,” she said looking at her watch.

  “Katz, look,” Colleen said, pulling a newspaper clipping out of one of the unearthed flower pots.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s an engagement notice. I can hardly read it.” She took it over to one of the windows. “Vivian Marston announces the March wedding of her daughter Patricia to James Edward Cokenberger.”

  “Handy Dandy! Our Cokey?” Katherine said. “Shhh, I just heard someone pull in. I think he’s here.”

  “Already,” Colleen confirmed.

  The doorbell clanged noisily. Katherine rushed to the side door and unlocked it. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she said.

  “Show me the disaster site,” he said merrily.

  Katherine escorted him into the living room.

  “Looks like a tornado hit,” he exclaimed.

  “Look what I found in one of the pots,” Colleen said, holding up the aged article. “It’s an announcement with your name on it. Strange place for a newspaper clipping, don’t ya think?”

  Cokey became quiet. He squinted to read the article, “I’m sorry, I left my reading glasses at home.”

  “It’s your engagement notice to your wife,” Colleen blurted. “Do you want this clipping?”

  “My ‘wife’ and I were never engaged,” he coughed nervously. “I think you’ve found one of my skeletons in the closet,” he said solemnly. “I was engaged to Patricia Marston for a brief time. We broke up years ago, and I married my only wife, Margaret.”

  “Oh, I see,” Colleen said, embarrassed.

  Cokey looked at the floor.

  “You’ll have to bring Margaret over so we can meet her,” Katherine said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “My wife would love to meet you, as well as my kids. They’re nuts about cats.”

  “Now I’ve put my foot in it,” Colleen said. “I’m terribly sorry.”

  “We didn’t realize,” Katherine said apologetically.

  “I’m surprised a newspaper clipping would survive being buried in a flowerpot since the Stone Age,” he laughed, then added, “I’ve got to go to my truck. I’ll be right back.”

  Once Cokey had left the room, Katherine said, “Great, Colleen. He’s probably never coming back.”

  “I didn’t know it,” Colleen said innocently.

  “Shhh, here he comes.”

  Cokey returned, carrying a large Shop-Vac. “You ladies might want to leave the room,” he advised. “This is very loud.” He plugged in the Shop-Vac and began to carefully vacuum the soil from the oriental carpet.

  Colleen went back into the parlor while Katherine began searching each room for Abigail. “Abby,” she called over the deafening drone of the Shop-Vac. She searched the kitchen—no Abby. She circled the house, going from room to room, calling the cat’s name—no response. She walked upstairs and was surprised to see Abby sitting outside her bedroom door.

  “The Siamese are in there,” Katherine said. “Do you want to take a nap with them?” She stroked the silky fur of the Abyssinian.

  “Chirp,” Abigail said in agitation. She stood up on her hind legs and reached for the door handle.

  Katherine opened the door and Abigail bounded inside. The three Siamese woke up, but Lilac and Scout immediately went back to sleep. Iris hissed and then yawned. She put one foot over her eye and curled up closer to Scout, then went back to sleep. Abigail jumped up on the bed and walked a few feet from the sleeping cats. She began purring, tucked her paws underneath her, and closed her eyes.

  “Sweet dreams, my darlings,” Katherine said. She shut the four cats in the bedroom and went back down to the atrium. “I can’t understand why she did that.”

  “What, I can’t hear you?” Colleen said struggling to hear.

  “Why did Abigail destroy the plants?” Katherine shouted.

  Colleen shrugged.

  Cokey Cokenberger turned off the noisy vacuum and entered the room. “I’m bankin’ that the only plant that will survive is that big old rubber plant. I’ll take it down to the solarium.”

  “Solarium? Where’s that?” Katherine asked perplexed.

  “It’s that room with the metal door to the outside; the one with all the windows. Mrs. Colfax called it the solarium.”

  “Thanks, but I really didn’t like the idea of plants being up here anyway. I’ve found that cats and plants don’t mix.”

  “I’ll roll this rug up and take it home. I can have the carpet cleaning service pick it up. I’ll bring it back good as new.”

  “Yes, please,” Katherine said.

  After Cokey left the room, Colleen whispered behind him, “I wonder why they broke up? Inquiring minds want to know.”

  “You mean incredibly nosy minds,” Katherine countered. “Is there a date on the clipping?”

  “No, the date is torn off. Why do you think it was buried in the flowerpot?”

  “‘Tis a mystery.”

  Cokey slipped into the room holding a dirty stuffed bear. “I found this in one of the broken flowerpots,” he said.

  Katherine and Colleen exchanged curious glances.

  “I just saw that hanging in the bathroom,” Colleen said.

  “Oh, no—not Lilac’s bear,” Katherine said, taking the stuffed toy. “This is one of my cat’s favorite toys,” she explained. “I’ve already given it one bath today when Lilac dropped in the dirty mop water. Now I’ll have to give it another one.”

  Cokey belted out a laugh and left the room.

  “Did you notice,” Colleen began whispering, “that when he came into this room we didn’t hear him?”

  “I noticed that. I don’t know how he does it. Every time I take a step, the floorboards squeak bloody murder. Maybe we should check to see if he leaves a reflection in the mirror,” Katherine kidded.

  “I vote we move these Queen Anne wing chairs so we can see whoever comes into the room. I don’t like having my back to a door.”

  “Spoken like a true New Yorker.”

  Katherine easily moved one of the chairs. Colleen moved the other chair a few inches but stopped when she heard something drop to the floor. She reached down and picked up an old-fashioned, flip-top cigarette lighter.

  “Did that come from inside the chair?” Katherine asked.

  “Here, help me tip it over,” Colleen said. After the two of them flipped the chair onto its side, they discovered a tear in the lining.

  “Did one of the cats do this?” Colleen said suspiciously.

  “I can’t tell if it’s a cat tear or an old age tear,” Katherine said.

  “There’s something hanging down from it.” Colleen pulled out a plastic object.

  “My night retainer!” Katherine exclaimed.

  “Oh, that’s disgusting. Take it,” Colleen said scrunching up her face.

  “I’ll bet you five bucks Iris stole it out of my bag and stashed it in this chair.”

  “She doesn’t waste any time hiding her loot,” Colleen observed. She continued feeling around and pulled out a caged ball with a bell inside. “Wasn’t the cat with bangs playing with this earlier? Care to pay me in singles or a crisp Lincoln back?”

  “Abigail, too,” Katherine gasped. “Now I have two kleptomaniacs.”

  “Who do you think this lighter belongs to?”

  “It looks like 14-karat gold plating. It probably belonged to one of my great aunt’
s guests. Mark said she entertained frequently.”

  “No, wait. There’s an inscription—To Cokey with Love. There’s a letter after that but it’s been scratched out,” Colleen said as she handed the lighter to Katherine.

  “Listen, I’ll try and catch him before he leaves,” Katherine said, heading for the door.

  “I guess you’ll have to do that tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “He just backed out of the driveway,” Colleen said, pulling the lace panel aside and looking out the window.

  “I’d better check to see if he locked the exterior door to the basement on his way out.”

  “Wait. I’ll go too, but first let me get my ghost meter,” Colleen said cheerily. She bolted out of the room and rushed up the stairs.

  Katherine called after her. “Seriously, do you think a ghost would prefer the basement over being up here?” She laughed.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t go down there without me,” Colleen yelled from upstairs.

  “Okay, whatever. But, if you get any ghost readings, I’m throwing that thing out into the snow,” Katherine teased.

  Chapter Seven

  By Wednesday, Katherine and Colleen were bored out of their minds. The ghost-hunting adventure to the basement had been a bust. Colleen complained that she wasn’t getting a reading anywhere in the house. Even the dusty attic didn’t set off the EMF meter.

  Katherine’s laptop was useless because the cable company hadn’t connected its service. No email. No high-speed Internet. Katherine’s thumbs were cramping from texting friends; Colleen was tired of playing the same apps on her phone.

  The boxes from New York hadn’t arrived, so there was nothing to unpack and put away. The house was sparkling clean; the rugs swept, the floors mopped.

  The boredom had even spread to the cats, who didn’t want to get off Katherine’s bed to eat their breakfast. Colleen suggested some retail therapy, so the two drove into the city. Katherine needed to visit the home improvement store, and Colleen wanted to shop for clothes. By noon, they were famished and stopped at a chain Italian restaurant. Colleen talked about her crush on Mario, and Katherine talked about Mark Dunn. She wasn’t sure about him just yet, but she admitted she was kind of interested.