by Betsy Byars
“It’s a piece of cloth like this,” Johnny explained, “with strings like this. When you jump out of an airplane the cloth fills with air and you float safely to the ground.”
“It’s too small for us. Who’s going to try it out?”
In the silence that followed, six eyes turned to me.
All too soon I was yanked up onto the table and my body was wound in strips of cloth. I struggled hard, but there were six hands now and it was hopeless. I let out meows of protest so high and strange they didn’t even sound like my meows.
They hooked the cloth onto the top of the strips. Then, with shouts of excitement, they ran up the basement stairs.
Johnny carried me up more stairs and then up the attic stairs and out onto the roof. It was just Johnny and me up there and, of course, the parachute. The other two kids were standing outside, looking up at us.
At that moment the mother came out, and was I glad to see her! This is the only person who treats me the way I like to be treated. I meowed my “help me” meow, but it didn’t come out right.
The mother said, “What’s going on here?”
One of the kids said, “Johnny made a parachute for the cat. It’s a real neat parachute. You—”
“Where is this parachute?”
The kids pointed and the mother looked up.
I meowed again, and this time I managed to get out the strongest “help me” of my life.
“Don’t—you—dare!” the mother said to Johnny.
Johnny said, “But, Mom, it’s perfectly safe. I promise. I—”
“DON’T—YOU—DARE!”
“Look, Mom,” Johnny said. “Will you just take a look at it?” He held me up and shook out the parachute.
“DON’T—”
She never got to finish.
For at that moment a breeze came up. I felt my fur ruffle where it wasn’t under the bindings to the parachute, and the breeze ruffled not only my fur but the cloth, too. Before I knew what had happened—whoosh!—the parachute and I were on our way.
“I didn’t mean to. Mom, I promise I—”
But the rest of his words were lost to me as the parachute and I rose over the roof.
We sailed over the trees. Then we floated over the barn. We were flying like birds! I could see everything.
Just as I was beginning to take in the view, we started down. This sinking happened over the pond. Johnny had once sent me “out to sea,” as he called it, on this pond, so my fear redoubled.
Then the blessed breeze blew again. We flew over the cornfield, over a couple of cows, and touched down in a small bush.
The mother was the first to arrive. She picked me up. “Oh, kitty-witty! Kitty-witty!” I love it when she calls me that. “Oh, my precious kitty-witty.”
As she said these comforting words, she managed to undo my bindings and throw the accursed parachute on the ground. She stepped on it as we headed for the house.
I knew what would happen now. Johnny would be sent to his room. The two kids would be sent home. The mother would find a wonderful treat for me, and after I had eaten, she would hold me on her lap and stroke my fur and scratch my ears, all the while saying things like “You’re the best kitty-witty in the world. Yes, you are.”
I don’t recommend parachute rides, but if you ever have to make one, I hope it ends like this.
CHAPTER 6
To Catch a Thief
Read by Chico
Translated by Amalia
Mi nombre es Chico.
My name is Chico.
Soy el gato mas pequeno del mundo.
I am the smallest cat in the world.
Soy pequeño. Pero, ¿puedo impedir un crimen?
I am small. But can I stop a crime?
Hay un cotorro que vive en mi casa.
There is a parrot who lives in my house.
Este cotorro solamente puede decir una cosa, “Socorro. Socorro. Policía.” This parrot can only say one thing: “Help. Help. Police.”
Lo dijo muchas veces en su juventud, pero nadie lo ha oído desde hace muchos años.
He said it many times in his youth, but no one has heard it in many years.
Todos piensan que se le olvidó cómo hablar.
Everyone thinks he forgot how to speak.
Un dia oigo un sonido.
One day I hear a noise.
Soy pequeño. Paso desapercibido al cuarto.
I am small. I slip unnoticed into the room.
Veo a un ladrón robando joyas y dinero.
I see a thief taking jewelry and money.
Corro al cotorro. Él no sabe lo que pasa.
I run to the parrot. He does not know what is happening.
Hay sólo una cosa que hacer.
There is only one thing to do.
Subo a la jaula.
I climb up to the cage.
El cotorro encrespa sus plumas. No le gusta que yo este cerca de su jaula.
The parrot ruffles his feathers. He does not like me near his cage.
Subo a la copita que contiene sus semillas especiales.
I climb up to the small cup that holds his special seeds.
Estas semillas vienen de Bolivia. A él, las semillas son como joyas, sin precio.
These seeds come from Bolivia. His seeds are like priceless jewels to him.
Consigo pasa, mi pata entre los barrotes y robo unas semillas.
I squeeze my paw through the bars and steal some seeds.
Es más de lo que puede aguantar.
This is more than he can stand.
Al final grita, “Socorro. Socorro. Policía.”
At last, he cries, “Help. Help. Police.”
Pronto, oigo las sirenas.
Soon I hear sirens.
La policia llega.
The police arrive.
El ladrón es capturado.
The thief is caught.
Soy el gato más pequeno del mundo. Pero, ¿puedo impedir un crimen?
I am the smallest cat in the world. But can I stop a crime ?
¡Sí!
Yes!
CHAPTER 7
Miu: The Great Cat of Egypt
Egypt, circa 2000 B.C.
Read by Digger, cat of Sir Henry Boneman
THOU ART THE GREAT CAT, THE AVENGER OF THE GODS, AND THE JUDGE OF WORDS, AND THE PRESIDENT OF THE SOVEREIGN CHIEFS AND THE GOVERNOR OF THE HOLY CIRCLE; THOU ART INDEED THE GREAT CAT. (Inscription on the Royal Tombs at Thebes)
I am the Great Cat, Miu. To look at me you would not suspect I am a god. I am small but powerful. When I walk through the marketplace, the people bow. My image decorates the temple and is worn on amulets and earrings. Dreams of the Great Cat mean a good harvest. Mortals adorn my ears with jewels and gold. They honor me.
There is only one who does not worship me. One who does not bow down in the marketplace. One who drools in the presence of Miu.
It is Abu, the Royal Dog.
I move with the timelessness of the centuries. I scorn mortals who hurry to get here and there. I look down upon the horses and lesser beasts that clomp and run with nervous energy. Chariots stop to allow me to pass. No one gets in my way when I take my regal walk.
There is only one who has the nerve to interrupt my walk. One who comes at me, with yips and barks that make my fur rise. One who makes me lose my composure and even hisss!
It is Abu, the Royal Dog.
My fur is perfect, groomed daily, by mortals and by me. A cat, especially the Great Cat, Miu, must be perfect. I lick each paw often to make sure it is free of the dust and dirt from the streets. I keep my whiskers free from drops of milk and honey. I am praised for my cleanliness.
There is only one who does not value the cleanliness of Miu. One who tromps into the palace slinging drool and mud as he shakes his filthy body. One who has the nerve to place a dirt-laden paw on the Great Cat.
It is Abu, the Royal Dog.
The servants bring me offerings, bits of fish and bowls of fresh milk. They place the offerings before me an
d bow reverently. No one touches the offerings to the Great Cat, Miu. On fear of death no one comes near while the offerings are consumed.
There is only one who dares to interrupt the feast of Miu. Only one irreverent, greedy, clumsy oaf who comes running and sniffing to grab the royal bits of fish and milk.
It is Abu, the Royal Dog.
I maintain my composure at the temple. I stand motionless and dignified, like a statue. I am surrounded by statues of other cat gods who have come before me. We stand tall. We are pictures of perfect composure. No one bothers the Great Cat, Miu. But, as I hold my pose, I hear yipping outside. One statuesque ear bends forward. I pull it back. I will not be disturbed. I stand taller and make my eyes into small slits. The yapping continues and my perfectly still tail flips unbidden. Again it flips and I cannot stop it. The yipping increases in volume. Involuntarily, the hairs rise on my back.
No one dares to enter the holy space and disturb the calm, no one except … In he comes! I jump up and lose my pose. My back arches, fur stands in all directions, and I give out an ungodly growl.
It is Abu, Abu, ABU!!! The Royal Dog!
At night sometimes I prowl. I catch the mice who invade the granary. After a good hunt I walk home. The world is bigger at night and sometimes I feel alone. It is cold in the desert and there are noises. I hurry past the pyramids and sphinx. When I look up at the golden moon hanging in the sky and the twinkling of a million stars, I don’t feel so much like the Great Cat. I feel very small and I hurry faster.
Then I reach the marketplace. The moon glows, illuminating strange shapes on the streets, and I hurry even faster. I need a friend. I pause outside the royal kennel. All is quiet.
Up I go through the window, for there is one inside who I know can protect me. One who will keep the shadows away. One who is an irreverent, greedy, clumsy oaf, but one who is my friend in the darkness. I tiptoe across the royal cushions and I snuggle up for warmth and protection. Purrrrrrr. I sleep safe and warm against his back.
It is Abu, the Royal Dog.
CHAPTER 8
Go-Go Goes Bananas
My name is Go-Go, and you have probably seen me in a book. Go-Go Goes to the Farm. Go-Go Goes to the Zoo. Go-Go Goes to Camp.
Only I don’t go to any of these places. I stay home with Arthur. I watch him write the books. I watch him draw the pictures.
He will show me a picture and tell me what a good time I had. “Go-Go, look what fun you had at the ice rink. Look at your double axel!
“Go-Go, look what fun you had at your birthday party. See the cake shaped like a bird. You got candy feathers caught in your teeth.”
Only I didn’t get to skate or eat feathers. I stayed right here in the studio.
Now, at last, I was going somewhere. My books were so popular that Arthur was invited to a school. I was invited too.
The school had a room filled with children and books. I was the star. I heard my name everywhere. “It’s Go-Go! Look, it’s Go-Go in person!”
We made our way to a small table covered with Go-Go books. Arthur sat and I made myself comfortable on a stack of books.
The children lined up to get books, and Arthur got right to it. He opened the first book and wrote something inside.
“Go-Go’s going to autograph my book too,” a girl cried. A teacher got her camera ready.
Then a terrible thing happened. Arthur took my leg, pressed my paw first onto a wet black pad and then onto the book beside what he had written. The children clapped excitedly.
“Mine next,” a boy cried out.
Now, I am very, very particular about my paws. I lick them clean even when they are clean, and so my horror at this black, wet paw was unbounded.
I leaped from the table, scattering the books in all directions, and ran. There were cries from the children.
“Catch her.”
“Go-Go! Come back!”
I paid no attention.
I ran through the room, scrambling between the many legs of the children in line. Children jumped out of the way.
“There goes Go-Go.”
“Chase her.”
I hurried into another room where children were eating on trays. I leaped over a table. I flew over or ran around everything in my way. Milk boxes and corn dogs hit the floor. A girl in line jumped back, bumping into the other children. Trays were tipping. Lima beans were flying. A blob of mashed potatoes just missed a teacher. I scurried down the lunch line. The children joined the chase.
On I went, down the hall through a door that said PRINCIPAL. I jumped across a desk covered with papers, leaving a trail of black paw prints. The man at the desk yelled, “Stop!” then jumped up and ran after me with the children.
They chased me down a hall into a huge room filled with chairs and a stage with a curtain. All the chairs were filled with even more children. A woman behind a podium was speaking. She was very serious, and when she saw me, her mouth dropped open in surprise. The children cheered and clapped for me. I looked at the curtain and didn’t hesitate. Up I went. At the top I settled on a small ledge and gazed out at the children. They were clapping and cheering. It was nice to hear the children cheering for me.
I looked at my paw. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought. A lot of the black had come off in my run. The children were calling, “Go-Go, come down.” But I ignored them.
It took a lot of licking to get my paw really clean. When I was satisfied at last, I glanced down. I liked it up here. I liked everyone looking at me. It was like I was a king, and the whole school was my kingdom. Arthur was holding out his arms.
The look on his face told me he had learned something about a cat’s paws. I backed down the curtain and fell into his arms. The children applauded.
Someone yelled, “Is your next book going to be Go-Go Goes to School?”
Someone else said, “Go-Go looked happy being up so high. His next book should be Go-Go Goes into Orbit.”
“How about Go-Go-Goes to the Moon?”
Those children ought to be writing my books instead of Arthur.
We went back to the room with the books, and Arthur signed every one. I did not. I sat on a stack of books and let each child pat me.
On the ride home Arthur said, “Actually, I ought to bring you with me more often. You’re the star.”
That was the nicest compliment he ever paid me. I can’t wait to see where we’ll go next.
CHAPTER 9
My Adventures
There’s a special place by the window in the living room where the sunshine comes in and warms the floor. That’s where you will find me, lying in that rectangle of warmth—dozing, stretching, and being thankful for my home. The sunlight feels good on my fur and reminds me of what it was like to be young.
I haven’t been young in a long time. My claws are gone. My teeth are old and dull. My ears miss many sounds. My once sleek body is rounded and soft, and as I roll about in the shaft of light I get sleepy and I dream …
Suddenly, it is night and I am standing in the moonlight, thinking of the beautiful Tabby next door. But wait! There is another suitor present. Behind the hedge, there is a competitor for her affections.
“MMMRRRROOO!” I recognize his howl. It is my enemy, the one-eared black cat from down the street.
“VAVAVOOOOM!” I hear him call a serenade to Tabby.
I answer with my distinctive howl from deep in my soul. “ROOWWWWW!”
He stops his serenade. For a moment I lose track of him. Where is he? Is he sneaking around to ambush me? I hear a trash can fall next door. He is in Tabby’s backyard!
“ROOWWWWW!” I call out a warning to him.
“MMMMRRRRROOOO!” He answers back a challenge. I know where he is.
“ROOWWWW!” I leap over the back fence, and we square off.
“MMMMRRRRROOO!”
“ROOWWWW!”
We circle each other in the night. We growl and howl. We tense our bodies and then … I leap! Rolling and clutching we battle for beautiful Ta
bby. I am winning! I am winning!
My one-eared opponent runs for the hedge and disappears.
“ROOWWWW!”
I am victorious!
I yawn and stretch, greatly satisfied with the warm remembrance of my victory. The sunlight patch has shifted a little in the afternoon and I roll over into the new position. Purrrrr. The sun is bright and I must close my eyes …
Suddenly, I am younger, stronger. I run swiftly through the neighborhood, past houses and streetlights. The neighborhood gives way to the forest, and the ground becomes wild with bushes towering over me. I am running and leaping and the wind is blowing my whiskers. I am free! But wait! There’s a sound in the distance. A yip and a bark signaling danger. I freeze.
The yip grows closer … closer. I see him, the bulldog from the end of the cul-de-sac, drawing closer. His big cat-biting mouth is open and drooling, his huge cat-pounding paws are pulling him closer. I stand my ground and watch his charge. I do not blink. Just as he rounds the bend, his teeth snapping with anticipation, I leap. I leap gracefully, hanging in the air for a moment like a cloud, then land with perfection on a branch just out of reach. He snaps and yips and howls with despair. I slowly lick my paws and smile.