Cats Aloft

by Lisa Martin

  “The trail is unclear,” said Ruby, “and now I’m counting on the two of you. Think now. Do either of you notice anything?” She panted calmly as the seconds ticked by.

  Cecil stood and paced, peering down each street. “I’ve got nothing.”

  Anton lifted his head and sniffed, but it was hard to concentrate with so much commotion. He shut his eyes and pricked up his ears, and he heard the sound again—a slight, repetitive squeaking.

  “The man’s shoe!” he shouted. “I hear it. Beyond that building.” He jabbed one paw at a large structure in front of them.

  “Excellent! Quick now, down the street!” called Ruby. “There will be an alley just behind.”

  Dodging a team of horses and a mob of ladies in crinkly dresses, Anton and Cecil raced the length of the building and around the corner to a narrow alley entrance, with Ruby close behind. The cats barreled into the alley, running directly under the feet of the bald man as he hustled toward the opening. The man stumbled and fell to one knee, dropping his leather satchel. The satchel bounced on the ground and burst open, emitting a cascade of small pieces of green paper that fluttered and settled across the pavement. Struggling to his feet again, the man reached for the satchel.

  “Stop, thief!” Ruby barked at the man. She turned to check that Morgan and his crew were still following, then placed her substantial bulk between the bald man and the satchel, growling a warning to him. The man slumped heavily against the alley wall, his arms raised in defense, grumbling and cursing.

  “Bravo, gentlemen!” Ruby said to the cats. “That was very well done.”

  Morgan arrived with the men in blue uniforms. After ensuring that the thief was well in hand, he came over to Ruby, who sat in the lane outside the alley with Anton and Cecil. He rubbed her neck affectionately and spoke to her with a certain pride in his voice.

  “Good girl, LeNez,” he said quietly. “You’ve done it again. What a marvel you are.” He straightened and regarded the two cats curiously, smiled, and strode back into the alley.

  “I don’t know what he said, but your partner seems nice, for a human,” Cecil observed.

  “He has always been kind to me,” agreed Ruby. “Though he’s not so nice to the bad guys, I’d have to say.” She turned to Anton with a twinkle in her droopy eyes. “That was a superior observation you made back there about those squeaky shoes.”

  Anton remembered how precise Ruby’s sense of smell was. “You didn’t really lose the man’s scent, did you?”

  “Perhaps not,” she said, smiling. “But I was interested in what you might sense if you put your mind to it, and you heard that tiny squeak! My hearing’s not what it was, that’s true. And it’s become a hindrance to me in a number of cases where I really need to be at my best.” She looked from cat to cat. “I don’t suppose we could consider keeping this team together a little while longer, could we? Mr. Morgan and I have been trying to solve a case over at the Fair that is absolutely confounding the both of us.” She paused, watching them.

  “Go on,” urged Cecil.

  “What’s a Fair?” asked Anton.

  Ruby smiled knowingly. “The Fair is a wonder of the world where humans of all types gather to listen to strange and beautiful music, to eat all kinds of delicious food, and to see sights nobody has ever seen before.”

  “Really?” Cecil’s eyes were wide.

  “Oh, goodness, yes. There’s a giant wheel that spins in place, great halls and statues and fountains, and balloons that carry people into the clouds.”

  Anton nodded. “What’s the case?” he asked the dog.

  Ruby scratched one floppy ear with her hind foot, and her face fell into its usual glum expression. “It’s a troubling case that involves animals,” she said slowly. “Animals being stolen from their families, whisked away without a trace, and no one seems to know where they go.”

  Anton and Cecil exchanged glances. “Well, we happen to know a bit about that kind of thing,” said Anton carefully.

  “Do you, now?” Ruby cocked her head. “That would be most helpful indeed, I’m sure it would. Tell you what.” She stood and half-turned. “I’ll go check on my partner for a moment, and you two discuss the matter. If you decide you’re interested, I’ll show you around the Fair and tell you more about the case.” She tromped to the alley and stuck her head in, tail wagging lightly behind her.

  Cecil glanced sidelong at Anton as his belly rumbled. “Did you hear the part about the food?” he asked.

  “And the music,” added Anton.

  “And the balloons,” said Cecil.

  “And even the poor, stolen animals. The whole thing sounds like our destiny.” Anton hesitated. “But what about going home?”

  “We’ll go,” Cecil promised. “Soon as the mouse network figures out how to get us there.” He paused, smiling. “Remember those pigeons?”

  “Yes, what about them?” Anton asked, wondering what his brother would think of next.

  “Well, we’ve tried the sea and the land,” Cecil mused. “Maybe this time we’ll have to fly.”

  Chapter 3

  A World of Wonders

  As they followed Ruby along the busy street, Anton’s and Cecil’s eyes widened at the enormous looming arches of the entrance gates to the fair. On the other side, everything was bright, massive, and white. Humans passed in and out in great clutches, talking and laughing and pointing this way and that, and Cecil’s ears swiveled at the din. He gazed up at the huge dome of a building in the distance, flanked by thick rows of columns on either side. There was a giant gleaming wheel, laden with swinging boxes as big as train carriages, that seemed to brush the clouds. The wheel rose beyond a large pool in which a boat drifted aimlessly, and beyond that were more bright white archways just ahead, through which Cecil could see and smell water. But it wasn’t the ocean—his nose agreed with Anton on that point. Not a thing wrong with my nose, actually, he thought, glancing at Ruby, who was leading them through the crowd. And I don’t have to put it on the ground to smell what’s in front of me.

  “What is that water out there, Ruby?” Cecil asked. “It doesn’t smell like the ocean.”

  “Your nose is correct, Cecil,” replied Ruby. “That’s a lake. Very large, but not as big as the sea.”

  “Jumping cats,” said Anton next to him. “Will you look at the size of that deer? And it’s white.”

  Cecil looked up and saw a deer twice the normal size, with a full spread of antlers, tip to hoof, powder white, and standing as still as a tree trunk on a big block of stone. Cecil was so impressed that he walked up and addressed the creature. “Mr. Deer,” he called up to him. “What are you doing up there? Are you stuck?” The deer didn’t move a muscle.

  “I don’t get it,” Anton said.

  Ruby, looking back over her shoulder, chuckled. “It’s a statue,” she said. “Haven’t you seen one before?” She turned herself in her tracks and joined her new comrades. “It’s made out of stone. There are a lot of them around here. Humans never tire of admiring them.”

  “Oh!” said Cecil, nodding. “We have seen them before, but they’re always of humans, never of animals. That’s just weird.”

  “I do find it disturbing myself, I won’t deny it,” said Ruby.

  “Do they have any of cats?” Anton asked.

  “Not that I’ve seen,” Ruby replied. “But there are more inside the buildings and I haven’t explored every one. I do know where there’s a statue of a fish, and right behind it there’s a place humans eat clams and fish.”

  “Now that’s a useful statue,” Cecil said. “The sooner I see that one the better.”

  Ruby led the way again, not nose to cobblestone, but as confidently as any dog who knows where she is going, head up, tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Cecil looked this way and that, taking in the sights. The crowds were thick in some areas, thin in others, and there were a good many children, and ladies, many accompanied by dogs on leashes. There were no cats to see or to scent. Birds flew
overhead, lighting on the various buildings or on the heads of the many statues, some of animals Cecil recognized: horses, a bear, two big moose, such as he’d seen blundering out of the woods in Lunenburg when he was hardly more than a kitten. He wondered if the statues were meant to capture the animals—to freeze them in place so humans could get a good look at them.

  Cecil noticed that no one approached Ruby or shooed her away. In fact, he saw one of the men who had assisted in the apprehension of the thief, leaning against a chair with wheels, nod as Ruby trotted by. I’d never want to be a dog, Cecil thought. Who would? But if you had to be a dog, Ruby definitely had the human problem nicely solved.

  The dog in question took a sharp left just past a huge statue of a female human, tall as a ship, standing on a block of stone out in the pool of water. Unlike all the others she was as gold as the sun, holding her arms high, perhaps in welcome. Cecil stopped to gawk at the strange sight just as the humans around him were doing. Anton looked back at Cecil and called, “Keep up.”

  “I’m coming,” Cecil said. A familiar, briny scent was floating toward him from a small building around the bend. He picked up his pace and as he joined his brother, they both let out a cheerful meow. There was a big statue of a fish standing on his tail. A carved seagull perched precariously, his stiff legs and sharp claws gripping tight, right on the top of the fish’s head. As they passed the monument, the gull suddenly flapped his wings and opened his big bill.

  “You’ll be sorry,” he said.

  The intoxicating smell of fish—not cooked, but fresh—filled the air. A less enchanting sound accompanied the scent, the screaming of gulls, lots of gulls.

  “Drat,” Anton said, as he trotted past Ruby, who sat on her haunches, thoughtfully observing the pandemonium behind the food stall.

  Cecil followed his brother and let out a huff of disappointment.

  Before them was a small wooden platform jutting out over the water. On the platform a human boy stood at a wide shelf nailed to the top of a split-wood fence, a sharp knife in one hand, a silvery, gleaming, delicious-looking fish in the other. Next to him was a big hamper filled with more fish. Before him, shrieking and flapping, rising and diving, nearly attacking him as he worked, a crazed flock of seagulls competed for the scraps. The boy threw the innards, heads, and tails into the air as he cleaned the fish, working fast to keep the big birds at bay. Now and then a bird came in so close he raised his knife to fend it away.

  “How are we supposed to get any?” Cecil said disconsolately.

  “Dibs, dibs,” screamed the gulls. “That one’s mine. Get back. Hey, don’t hog that piece, that’s a big piece. It’s mine.”

  “Maybe if we get close to that boy he’ll slip us a bit,” Anton suggested.

  Ruby came up behind them. “I believe the boy is not pleased to have such a greedy audience for his show,” she observed. “In my view, if you see what I mean, he might welcome some relief.” And with that she approached him. He threw a fish tail into the air, stowed the cleaned fish in a basket under the shelf, and turned to his hamper for another. Anton and Cecil followed close at the big dog’s heels. The boy looked up and grinned widely at Ruby.

  “Hey, old girl,” the boy said. “What are you doing out here?” He put the fish down and reached out to pat Ruby on her broad back. Anton and Cecil had no idea what the boy was saying, but he appeared very pleased by their visit. “You’re sure a big girl,” the boy said. Then he spotted the brother cats, who took their places on either side of the dog, endeavoring to appear deserving of fresh fish. “Look at that!” he said, his eyes wide. “Are these friends of yours? I never seen the like of that.”

  Unlike the boy, the gulls weren’t pleased at all, and their screaming turned from squabbling among themselves to demands for attention.

  “Get the dog out of here!” one cried. “Cats, get lost. This is our catch, go find your own.” One bold bird swooped in very close and attempted to peck Cecil’s neck.

  In a flash Ruby leaped up, barking with sudden, fierce anger. “Leave my companion alone, you lazy scavenger!” she shouted. Then she showed her teeth and lunged, catching a feather or two as the astounded gull pulled up and, thrashing his great wings, rejoined his fellows. Ruby rushed to the very edge of the platform, rising up to rest her big forepaws on the fence and in a thunderous voice that the brothers hardly recognized, barked, “And stay back, you fiendish rapscallions, as long as I’m here. If you come close, I will bite your heads off. Do not dare to test my mettle. Let this boy do his work and wait your turns!”

  The boy was ecstatic. “All right, all right!” he shouted. “Keep those darn birds in the water where they belong. You can stay as long as you want.” He reached into the hamper, pulled out a fish, and hacked off the head and the tail. “Here you go, kitties,” he said. “Any friend of this lady’s is a friend of mine.”

  Cecil grabbed a tail, lots of meat at the front, and swallowed a big bite. Delicious. Ruby came back and sat near the boy, looking pleased with herself. What an amazing old lady, Cecil thought.

  Another tail hit the wood and Anton nudged it toward the dog. “Would you care for a bit?”

  Ruby widened her eyes, lowering her muzzle to have a closer look at the offering. “That’s so courteous of you,” she said. “But I had lunch with my partner at the station earlier. And, truth to tell, I’m not a great fan of raw fish.”

  “This one is too small,” the boy said, pulling a fish the size of his hand from the basket. He slapped it on his board and cut it neatly in two pieces. “Just right for you fellows.” And he tossed the waiting cats a perfect lunch.

  “Let’s eat here every day,” Cecil said, as he pounced on this unexpected treasure.

  “I’m so glad you gentlemen are enjoying the Fair,” Ruby said. “It’s a very cheerful place, to be sure. But sadly, as so often happens, there are those who take advantage of relaxed vigilance to do harm. And that’s where I come in.”

  “Right,” said Cecil, swallowing a meaty bite. “The case.”

  “When you’ve quite finished your luncheon, I’ll go over the details with you. It’s a most curious problem and we will need all the wits we have to solve it.”

  Anton licked a bit of fish scale from his lips. “You said animals are involved,” he observed.

  “Yes, puppies,” Ruby said softly, as if she didn’t want to be overheard.

  “Puppies?” Cecil said.

  “Small white dogs, from all over the Fair.”

  “What happens to them?” Cecil asked.

  “Well, that’s the mystery,” Ruby said sagely. “We don’t know what happens. They simply disappear without a trace.”

  As the trio headed away from the lake and their delicious fish lunch, Cecil thought that Ruby was certainly right about the wonders of the Fair. He had never imagined buildings could be this immense, tiered and spired ever upward, or that so many humans would want to pack themselves together into one place at one time. The wide cobblestone avenues wound past shimmering fountains surrounded by trees planted right in the walkways without dirt or grass. Cecil’s nose quivered, taking in scents of exotic animals he could not name, roasted meats and baked bread, leather, metal, fresh water, and the chalky white stone that made up every wall and column around them. He could see that the people were happy and excited, though the commotion was a bit overwhelming for a cat. He longed for a hidden alcove from which to observe the action.

  Anton must have felt the same way. “I’m going to get stepped on for sure,” he murmured.

  Ruby led them on a path through a large plaza, around a central body of water she called “the Basin.” Out on the blue water, men stood upright in skinny boats and ferried passengers slowly to and fro, steering with one long oar.

  Cecil frowned. “If the pond is so small you can walk around it, what’s the point of rowing a boat on it?”

  “Ah!” Ruby looked back and smiled. “A good observation. It’s just for fun, I believe.”

  “Going
nowhere in a boat is fun for them?” asked Anton.

  “Oh goodness, yes. Like fetching a ball thrown by Mr. Morgan, again and again, merely for the enjoyment of it.” Ruby sighed.

  The brothers exchanged a glance. “Well, that explains why no one seems in any hurry,” said Cecil, skirting a group of raucous children blocking the middle of the lane. Just past the group stood a small clutch of men dressed identically, their backs straight and noses held high, watching the crowd in silence with shifting eyes. The men each wore a dark jacket with a column of shiny buttons down the front, and on each man’s chest was pinned a silver star-shaped badge. One of the men touched the brim of his tall, round-topped hat at Ruby as they passed.

  “Who are those guys?” asked Anton, hurrying to keep up with Ruby’s loping strides.

  “Those are the police, standing guard to protect the people from theft, assault, and other crimes and tomfoolery,” replied Ruby quietly, raising her great head to survey the men.

  “Is there a lot of that kind of thing here?” asked Cecil, eyeing the guards over his shoulder.

  “More than you would imagine, my dear.”

  Just as the trio stepped into the shade of a small tree, a sharp bark pierced the din of the crowd. “Ruby!”

  The three companions turned toward the sound and watched as a small, elegant dog sidestepped the pedestrians and headed for them at a fast trot, her paws a blur. Her curly white fur, stark against the black clothing of the humans, had been clipped short along her torso and legs, leaving puffy balls near her feet and around her head. A braided leather leash encircled her narrow neck and trailed behind her. She glanced at the cats for only a second before nosing in to the group, a look of panic on her pointed face.

  “You’re Ruby, the great detective, aren’t you?” she asked the older dog, speaking rapidly.

  “Yes, my dear,” replied Ruby. “Camille, is it? We met a few days ago.”

  The white dog nodded distractedly. “I need your help!” she cried out. “My son, he’s gone!” She wobbled on her skinny legs. “He’s disappeared, and I don’t know where to turn!”