Feline Savior

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Feline Savior Page 3

by Kevin L. O'Brien

she is becoming more responsible. I believe we can overlook it this once." Then she looked down at her. "Provided she does not try to take advantage of our generosity."

  Differel grinned back at her. She understood what Mandy meant, and it was kind of a game they played, in which they playfully tested each other's tolerance and limits.

  "Then enjoy your picnic, Ladies." He smiled, and started to turn away.

  "Father! Come with us. I miss you."

  He stopped and turned to glance back at her, a sad look on his face. He walked up to her and crouched down in front of her so he could look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, my sweet girl, but I can't, I have too much work to do."

  She felt her heart sink with bitter disappointment. He always had to work; she hardly ever got to see him.

  "But, I tell you what. As a reward for your act of heroism this day, you may have supper with me."

  Surprised, she felt excitement bubble inside her. "Really?!"

  He nodded. "Then we can watch a movie, and afterward I will tuck you in and read you a story. How would you like that?"

  "Oh, thank you!" She threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled as his beard tickled her.

  He let her go and stood up. "Until tonight, then, my sweet girl." He smiled before he turned and went back to the house.

  She and Mandy watched him as he walked away, but when he was out of earshot, Mandy said, "My apologies for doubting you, Differe."

  She looked up at her, surprised. Mandy had never apologized to her before.

  Mandy looked down. "You are growing up so fast, I sometimes do not fully comprehend just how much you have matured. Not that there are no more things you have to learn, but you learn so much so quickly now. I am very proud of you."

  Differel felt so happy that she hugged Mandy, who patted her on the back of the head.

  Mandy grinned at her. "So, are you ready for our picnic?"

  "Yes!"

  "Excellent. Just give me a moment to fetch the basket and we can be on our way." And she went back into the house.

  As soon as Mandy disappeared inside, Differel heard a meow off to her left. When she looked, she saw the mother cat gazing out from one of the rose bushes. At its feet was the kitten, looking dry and fluffy, and playing with a bit of twig. The mother looked at her, as if thanking her for saving its kitten, then picked it up and trotted off deeper into the flower beds. She knew it was just her imagination, cats really couldn't talk or think or express gratitude, but it was fun to pretend, and it made her feel good. After all, she was a Van Helsing; that was what her family did, help people, and she had just accomplished her first success in that long tradition.

  Differel peered out from the opening of her hiding place, up through the open roof. She noted the sky had deepened to violet. It would be night in another couple of hours, and then she could make her way to the cemetery. She crawled back inside and lit the lighter. Holding it over her upper left arm, she examined the deep graze wound. She had torn off her sleeve and wrapped it around the laceration as a makeshift bandage, and she could see the large red spot in the fabric, now a dull, dark brick. Fortunately, it seemed to have stopped bleeding, but she knew she would need to clean it out really well and have it closed with stitches for it to heal. She wasn't feeling feverish, so infection hadn't set in yet, but she realized she might not live long enough for that to be a problem.

  She closed the cap on the lighter and slipped it back into her pocket. She didn't like feeling defeatist, but she figured she had to be realistic. She had been lucky so far, there was no doubt about that, but the chances of her seeing the dawn were slim, while those of her surviving the week were practically nil. Her only hopes lay in whatever she would find in the family mausoleum, and the possibility Aelfraed and Mr. Holt might find her before Aunt Mandy did.

  Either would be miraculous, but the former's somewhat more probable.

  She laid her hand by her side and stroked Mr. Mistoffelees's back. After she had saved him, she had kept an eye on him as he grew up, and she had been thrilled to discover that he was a friendly cat and would spend time playing with her. She had given him his name after he demonstrated abilities similar to the cat in Eliot's poem.

  He's the closest thing I have to a friend, and he makes my loneliness bearable.

  He hadn't stayed with her the whole time she was in hiding, but his errands, whatever they were, were usually brief, and he returned each time. She was glad of that. She felt that as long as he did not abandon her, she could still have some small hope.

  As she stared out at the darkening keep, she couldn't help reliving the events that had led her to that time and place. So much had changed in the past twelve hours, even over the five weeks before. As a matter of fact, it seemed only yesterday she was celebrating her most recent birthday....

  Differel stood on the north terrace, with Mr. Mistoffelees sitting on the railing beside her. She looked out over the back garden, but it wasn't the garden she was interested in. The only trees out there were a few short fruit-bearing types, and the full expanse of the sky was clearly visible. It was dusk, and getting darker by the moment. Soon the first stars would become visible, and she wanted to catch them. She realized she shouldn't have left the party without telling anyone; no doubt Aunt Mandy would be in a fine temper, and would have the servants searching everywhere for her.

  But this is important; I have to be on time, or I'll lose my one chance forever.

  She heard the double doors behind her open, but she didn't turn around. She knew immediately it was her father when he walked out without saying a word. Aunt Mandy would have yelled at her; Aelfraed, Mrs. Widget, or any of the other servants would have called out to her. Only her father would take the time to go to her like a person, rather than scold her or summon her like a dog.

  He came up on her left side and placed an arm behind her as he laid his hand on her shoulder. "What are you looking at?"

  "I'm waiting for the first star to appear."

  "I see. You plan to make a wish?"

  "Yes, Father, just like you did."

  He chuckled and looked down at her. "Did Aelfraed tell you about that?"

  She smiled and looked up at him. He had always appeared very tall to her, though as the years went by he seemed to shrink. He was a slim man, fit and trim, and muscular, but in the way of a swimmer or runner. Even at her current size, he was still strong enough to lift and toss her in the air, though he couldn't do it as many times as when they both were younger. His face had striking chiseled features that made him look distinguished and rugged all at the same time. She had heard the younger maids gossiping about how handsome he was, which was no surprise to her; she knew her father was the best-looking man in all the world. His mid-length hair and closely trimmed beard and moustache were a sandy brown, though streaked with gray, like a remnant of ash on a beach. He didn't wear glasses, which made her wonder why she did, considering her mother hadn't worn any either. His eyes were cobalt blue, piercing, even a bit hard, but always sparkling and merry, at least when they looked at her. He was always impeccably dressed in a tailored three-piece silk suit and tie, and she almost never saw him without a cigar in his mouth.

  "Yes, Father, just a week ago. I want to wish--"

  "You shouldn't tell me, Differe, or it may not come true."

  She looked back out at the sky. "I know, but I want to."

  "Go ahead, then, if you insist."

  "I plan to wish that I was a fairytale princess, living in a grand palace, with a knight champion to protect me, two boon adventuring companions, a prince charming for my husband, and a baby boy to love."

  "Why would you wish for something like that?"

  "Because I'm twelve."

  "I don't follow you."

  "I know what's coming, Father; Aunt Mandy told me."

  "I see. And you want to avoid it."

  "Yes, Father, but I'm at the point of no return. That's why I have to do this
now, because I'll never get another chance."

  "I understand. I felt the same way at your age."

  "I know; Aelfraed told me."

  "Have you been speaking to him about this?"

  "No, Mrs. Widget; but she told him."

  "Why to her?"

  Differel shrugged. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to her than you or Aunt Mandy."

  "Yes, I suppose it is; you are getting to be that age."

  Differel smiled. "Mrs. Widget said the same thing."

  "I know how you feel, Differe, but our family has responsibilities."

  "I...I know, Father, but they scare me."

  "Me, too."

  Confused, Differel looked up at him, as he stared into the sky himself. "You?" It was inconceivable that someone as strong and brave as him could feel fear.

  "They would frighten any sane person. To hold the safety of every man, woman, and child in Britain and the Commonwealth in your hands. To know that you are all that stands between Her Majesty, the Government, and the Church, and the forces of darkness. No one should have to bear that burden."

  Then he looked down at her. "But someone must bear it, otherwise all we love, all we hold dear, our very way of life, will be destroyed. Our family has elected to take on that responsibility, for the good of everything we cherish. We are not immune to the fear, Differe; what makes us different from those we protect is that we do not let the fear control us, we do not let it stop us from doing our duty. We conquer our fear, we use it to give us strength, and we turn it against our enemies as our most potent weapon."

  She didn't fully understand what he said, but it touched her in an unexpected way. She had never thought of it like that before, and it presented a whole new perspective she had not considered.

  "There's your star, my sweet girl."

  She looked up, and spotted a twinkling point of light midway up from the horizon.

  "Go ahead, make your wish."

  She looked up at him in surprise. "You're giving me the chance?"

  "Yes, we all took that chance, every one of us before you, each in our own way. Now it's your turn. Hurry, before another one appears!"

  Grinning, she stared at the star. Now is the time!

  "Star light, star bright, the first star I see this night," she intoned in a somber voice, as if in pray. "I wish I may, I wish I might, receive the gift I wish tonight." She then closed her eyes, concentrated really hard, and mouthed the words.

  When she finished, she gingerly opened her eyes and looked around. Nothing had changed; everything was just the way it had been, the way it always was. Disappointment filled her heart, as well as resignation to her fate, but there was also some relief. Now that it was over, she could concentrate on the path ahead with no regrets.

  "Hmph," she said, hiding her true feelings, "I guess I shouldn't have told you after all."

  "Yes, it would seem so." He hugged her close, but there was an accent in his voice that suggested he knew what she really felt.

  Of course he would; he must have felt the same way.

  Smiling, she looked up. "I'm ready now, Father."

  He turned her around and headed for the doors. "Good. Chef Trumbo has your cake all ready, and Mrs. Widget should be finished putting the candles on it."

  "I hope Aunt Mandy isn't mad." She felt some trepidation at the prospect.

  "She only wants what's best for you, because she loves you as I do."

  "I know. It's just that--!" She cut herself off, frowning.

  Maybe I shouldn't say anything.

  "Just what?"

  "Nothing, I...nothing." No, it's not worth bringing up. She had nothing definite to say anyways. She loved Aunt Mandy and had only fond memories of her growing up, but in the last couple of years she seemed to change. She had grown more stern and less patient, with a volatile temper that was easily triggered, even by the smallest event. Apparently, her father didn't see it, and maybe she was just exaggerating it all anyways.

  He suddenly spasmed with a coughing fit

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