I walked up to the cat and we stared each other down like two gunfighters ready to duel it out. It made the same nasty hiss that it gave Luna. “All right, you little ball of psycho. You’re a damn guest here. I have enough crazy, I don’t need your kind of crazy too.” Now, I had to think. Clobber it with something? No, I didn’t have the heart, plus Gertie entrusted me with this damn thing. But, I did consider it. “Stay right there, cat.” I ran to my room and returned with a small laundry basket. “Don’t you move. If you scratch me, I swear. I know a giant mastiff down the street. He’d be happy to have a tasty little treat like you stop by for dinner. I bet he’d wolf you down like you were a steak sandwich.”
I carefully reached out and pulled my laptop off the desk. I narrowly dodged the cat’s single swipe of sharp claws. I threw the basket down onto the cat and trapped her. My celebratory “Yes! Gotcha!” changed to “Oh Shit!” when she started lifting the basket up off of her. I had to think quick so I started grabbing whatever I could to add weight on top of the basket. Soon there was a pile of books, a tape dispenser, a stapler and a box of tissues. I guess the tissues didn’t contribute much to the security of the cage, but I was running out of things. I walked backwards and the cat bounced around under the basket. Realizing she was hopelessly trapped, she admitted defeat and transformed herself into a sleeping black ball of fur.
I went about my day and the cat seemed perfectly content. Luna kept her distance, but also kept her eyes fixed on our captive. By the afternoon, I realized that I had a few errands that I needed to take care of. Number one on the list was to restock my depleted tea reserves, the lack of caffeine was making me miserable. I was confident that if the cat hadn’t managed to escape all morning, it was still going to be there when I returned.
Chapter Thirteen
Leigh Epstein, Demon Slayer
Off I went to get groceries, when I drove past a large sporting goods store. I hadn’t given it much thought. What would I need for my trip? I would look like the inexperienced boob that Randy described if I showed up completely unprepared. I decided that I had better take this opportunity to at least look around.
I walked into a mega store that was a virtual cornucopia of sports equipment. There were balls of all shapes and sizes as well as enough shoes to cover every bare foot in a third world country. I was amazed at the selection of rackets, sticks, clubs and bats. They had everything needed for every sport ever devised as well as an ever growing list of new and exotic ones. Suburban mothers hurried about after their broods and blew their family nest eggs to ensure their kids would fit in to a strange world, where competition among parents exceeded the competition among the players.
A back wall held a display of tents and other camping gear. I meandered through the aisles as I kept looking at the display as if I were navigating through a swamp by using the stars as my guide. Finally, I made it to the sales counter. A beefy looking man with a blue polo shirt, two sizes to small, looked at me and said, “If you’re looking for exercise equipment, you’ll find it on the other side.”
“No I’m not. Exercise equipment? Do you think I need to exercise more? What are you saying?” I was serious. Did I look that out of shape?
“I don’t know. Yeah. A little, I guess.”
“Really? And you’re the—” I bit off my words. I had to remember that I needed this man’s help in getting the proper gear for camping. I could hear my mentor, Jennifer giving me some folksy, home-spun advice. Remember Leigh, You can catch more flies with sugar than with vinegar. “No. I am actually looking for the camping section.”
“You? Camping?”
“What. Now everyone thinks I can’t camp?” I took a breath and another reminder. Easy does it, Leigh. “Anyway, I just need to get whatever it is I’ll need to go camping, in a tent, in Minnesota.”
“Well, you’ll need a tent for sure.”
“Thank you for pointing that out, Davey Crockett. Do I look like someone who wouldn’t know that? Wait, don’t answer that. Just tell me what accessories I should have.”
“Hmm.” The sales clerk put one finger to his mouth and thought about it. He mumbled quietly to himself. “Minne-God damn-sota. That chick is as good as bear bait.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud. Here, lets walk around and I’ll just tell you what you’ll need. Just keep in mind that this is no time to scrimp and be thrifty. The cemeteries are full of people that went cheap and paid for it. Hell, they might as well have carved ‘At least she saved a few dollars’ on their headstones.”
Before I knew it, I was at the cash register and my credit card was going into shock. I loaded everything in my car and took note of some of the things I bought. A firestarter. I’m not sure why I just couldn’t simply pick up a few disposable lighters, but the salesman’s what if scenario made sense. Who wants to gamble their life on a cheap plastic lighter? Not when you could get a genuine imported Swedish firestarter. I had all sorts of gadgets that I knew would impress Hunter. I even had a campfire toaster. As I put it in the car I realized that a campfire toaster didn’t seem like that great of an idea anymore. Then I’d have to pack bread as well.
Just after I started my car, I received a call.
“Miss Epstein, this is Victoria from Master Charge. I’m calling today to find out if your credit card has been stolen.”
“Stolen? No, I have it right here. Why?” I was alarmed and confused.
“We show that there has just been a large purchase at a sporting goods store for what appears to be nothing but camping supplies. According to our system, you don’t seem to be the camping type, Miss Epstein. Our system actually flagged your account so I could verify if these purchases were valid.”
“What? Seriously. What is this? It’s a damned conspiracy, that’s what it is. You’re the third person to tell me that I am no camper. I’ll have you know that I am too the camping type! As a matter of fact, I am getting ready to go camping, in a tent, in Minnesota, with my boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry, but the system doesn’t think you’re the camping type. It says right here. ‘customer is not a camper-please verify these purchases.’ Now, I’ve noticed that you didn’t purchase any snake proof boots. This system probably flagged that right away, because as anyone knows, no camper in their right mind would want to go plodding around the woods, unprotected from snake bites. Also, there is no record of any previous purchases for camping supplies, or any other sporting activities for that matter. Mostly, there are just shoes and purses. So, you are not the camping type.”
“You know what? You can take your system and shove it up your ass, sideways. I’m sick and tired of being told that I am not the outdoorsy type. And another thing—”
“Please calm down, Miss Epstein. I’ll just mark these on our system as valid purchases. Good luck in Minne-God damned- sota. You’ll need it.” She hung up the call.
It must be that whenever anyone involved in customer service blames their so-called system, it just sets me off. I finished my trip by picking up a few groceries, being damn careful not to mention to a living soul that I was preparing for a camping trip to Minne-God damn-sota.
I had been gone far too long and it was already getting dark. When I got home, I left my expedition sized backpack full of camping gear in the car and carried my bag of groceries inside. I was still steaming over the phone call as I walked into the kitchen. As I put my groceries away, I thought I heard strange sounds coming from the other room. That damn demon cat escaped! I knew that it had tried to hurt me once. After being pent up in a laundry basket all day, it would be looking for revenge. I whispered down the dark hallway for Luna, but there was no response. Oh God, what have I done? That thing could have killed Luna.
I went into the kitchen and looked over my arsenal of self-defense weapons. There was the flimsy Dollar Store broom with the aluminum handle, but that piece of crap would fold in half at the first swat. And I couldn’t count on the fragile extendable duster tha
t might take down a cobweb. Then I saw the perfect weapon. There was my floor mop with the metal squeegee handle. It was a handy little piece I had inherited from my Grandmother. It was old enough to predate the plastic models that flooded the markets of my generation. I could knock that little beast out with it, if I needed to. I took a deep breath and walked to where my kitchen opened to the hallway. There was about two feet of wall before the entrance to the living room. I waited in the shadows, listening for movement.
I could hear it, moving around. There were muffled rustling noises, cat noises, noises that chilled my skin. My heart raced and then I felt it. Something furry brushed against my leg and I was suddenly paralyzed. I looked down and noticed that it was Luna’s long full coat. I gave her a pat and pushed her behind me. The element of surprise was crucial in bludgeoning this demon cat, and I remained quiet. I felt something wet on my hand after touching Luna. I examined it closely. Blood! I think that cat bit Luna’s ear! What if that thing has rabies? This is serious. Deadly serious.
Time to get this intruder cat. I walked into the living room where I spotted it. Thanks to the faint glow from the streetlight shining through the window, I could see its black fur. It was on the arm of my couch. It looked like it was chewing the hell out of my furniture. That couch I had worked so hard to save for, was being reduced to landfill fodder in front of my very eyes. It infuriated me. I lifted the mop up and came down on it with a thud. I expected to hear it squeal and run away. Instead, it rose up quickly. The dark, furry, feline orb rose up in the ethereal glow from the street light, and it was accompanied by a blood curdling yell. It terrified me. I screamed like I had seen a ghost. I jumped back and turned on the light switch by the wall.
Another loud thud came when Gertie’s legs came off of Brad’s shoulders and she slid down off the couch and onto the floor. Then I stood there, and stared. I was trying to comprehend what I was seeing. It was Brad, and Gertie. Brad was as naked as the day he was born. And there was no rabid cat in sight. The only words that left my lips were, “Where did it go?” It was Brad’s thick black hair that I had mistaken for my demonic quarry and I had crowned him right on his Greek god looking head. When I say I crowned him, I mean I brought my mop down on his head like I was swinging a comically giant sledgehammer on one of those “Test Your Strength! Ring The Bell!” carnival games. If I were at the carnival I would be happily receiving my grand prize of a giant purple panda by now, with a master stroke like that.
I carefully considered from the odd position what they were doing. Gertie had been lying back on the couch, her butt was up and positioned on the arm of it, and her legs had been hanging down over Brad’s shoulders. Brad had knelt down and faced her so that his face was buried down between her legs. And it wasn’t a crazy puss I saw chewing on something, it was Brad chewing up Gertie’s puss, something crazy. I finally had a complete assessment as to what had been going on. Huh, that’s actually a pretty good position for that. He gets a great angle on her. Wait, why is he still yelling?
Then I saw why. It wasn’t from the fresh pounding that I gave him. The demon-cat had reappeared. It had launched at him and landed on the back of his neck. The cat used whatever flesh she could snag. It dug in for extra traction and scrambled around his head like a squirrel on a tree trunk. Unfortunately for Brad, one of its claws ripped through one of his ear lobes. Brad spun around to see who had so expertly applied a vintage O-Cedar Roll-O-Matic to his skull. His hands were in front of him and he was prying the cat from his head. So that’s why he’s still screaming. I thought. When he successfully removed the cat, he flung it outwards, right towards me. In a purely defensive reflex, I swatted at the cat like I was swinging at a fastball. I missed the cat and connected with Brad’s groin. If I added the mini golf clobbering I had previously given to Hunter’s balls, I was winning at this game. The visiting team, The Bruised Scrotums, were down by two.
Gertie shrieked when this happened and she pulled the bottom of the dress back down to cover herself. I noticed her panties lying on the floor, at the opposite side of the room. They had been physically ripped off and were good for nothing more than a souvenir now. Bravo big guy. Very nice! Now that’s the way to do it! I thought. Looking back, I may have spoken those words out loud by accident. But then, you really must appreciate a man that dives into oral sex with such gusto.
Fortunately for me, Gertie had no idea that I had been on a mission to slay the demon-cat. She thought that I had walked in on a nefarious human intruder. I hate to think what she would have said if she knew I was trying to beat up her new pet. “Ah—I’ll get some ice for Brad’s balls. There are some Band-Aids or whatever you think he might need for that ripped up ear.” I darted away and returned just as fast with a cup of ice. I was getting pretty good at being a first responder for squashed testicles. While she went to dress his wounds, and soothe the other parts of his aching anatomy, I went hunting. “Meow, meow.” I heard Luna. The kitchen! I ran back to the kitchen and saw the devil on my kitchen table. I swung the mop and the cat leapt high in the air and somehow twisted around to land on the counter next to the sink. My swing may have missed the cat, but I had knocked my heavy ceramic sugar bowl through the screen of my kitchen window. She jumped through the freshly ripped screen and made her escape.
Gertie tiptoed back out. “Leigh? I’m sorry, but you were gone for so long and we just got carried away.”
“Don’t worry so much. Really, I am the one that should be apologizing for beating up your boyfriend. Is he all right?”
Brad returned to the room. He was rubbing the back of his head, and cupping a towel filled with ice over his groin. “I’ll be fine. By the way, what the hell was that thing you hit me with?”
“Oh, that was just my grandmother’s old mop.”
“What. Your grandma mopped the floors with a club? It felt like one of those giant sledgehammers you swing on that Test-Your-Strength carnival game.” I like Brad, we think alike when it comes to metaphors.
Chapter Fourteen
The Collar of Mystery
“Well, the cat escaped. Just a minute or two ago, it broke through the screen in the kitchen window.”
Gertie seemed alarmed. “Maybe we should go look for her. I hope she didn’t get hurt.”
Brad put an arm around Gertie’s waist. “I wouldn’t worry too much. She probably wanted to find her way home, if she has one. She’s definitely in good shape, just like when I rescued her. A healthy cat like that must have someone that has been feeding her.”
“Why didn’t you just return it to the owners of the building that burned?” Gertie asked.
“It was just an old building that had seemingly been used for storage. I checked with the department and it wasn’t clear who the property owner was. Apparently, some business that folded up quite a few years ago.” Brad shrugged his shoulders. “The cat did have a collar on when I found her. A little leather one. And it looked like it was pretty old and worn thin. I’m surprised it didn’t fall off of her.”
To be honest, I wasn’t too worried about the mean cat. It probably was out killing some poor songbirds by now. Gertie, on the other hand, perked right up at this information. “A collar? Was there a nametag of some kind?”
“There was a little metal tag hanging from it. No name though. Just some sort of strange symbol.” Brad looked like he was trying to think of a way to describe it when he suddenly remembered something. “You guys wanna see it? I have it in my truck. Be right back.”
While Brad went outside, I jumped right next to Gertie and pulled her close. I had to know. “So. You looked like you were having a nice time. Tell me! How was that? What else did I miss?” I had a big smile and my questions gave Gertie a rosy blush.
“We came back here quite a while ago. I wanted to check on the cat, and to tell you that we are all getting together at Kelly’s tonight, before Randy and I head back. Next thing I know, Brad and I are on the couch. We kissed. It was just so…passionate. I didn’t know what to do, but I
knew exactly what I wanted him to do. I told him to do that thing he told me on the phone. And that’s what was happening when you smacked him over the head.”
“Sorry, I cut that short for you. You okay?”
“I’m fine. Probably it’s for the best. He had been doing that for a close to an hour. And let me tell you, I don’t know how much more I could take before I passed out.”
“An hour? Holy buffet line! Wow, that’s a long time for that! What, he breathes through his ears?” I had Gertie laughing and then I remembered something. “See that little piece of fabric that’s been ripped apart?” I pointed to her panties on the floor. “It looks like your panties didn’t survive the attack.” Gertie picked them up and quickly tucked them into her bag.
Brad returned with the little collar and handed it to Gertie. “Here it is. No name, just that logo, or whatever it is.”
Gertie rubbed the dull silver in an attempt to make the engraving more legible. “I can’t tell. You’re right, there isn’t anything written here. It’s a symbol of some kind. A flower? Perhaps a rose? Also, criss-crossed lines.” She handed it to me.
I was mildly intrigued. “I think so. A rose, on top of a checkered square. Weird. I’ve never seen a logo like that.” I handed it back to Gertie.
Gertie looked at Brad and asked, “Do you mind if I hang onto this, Brad?”
Hopeful Leigh (Literal Leigh Romance Diaries Book 3) Page 8