Cat Tales Issue #3

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Cat Tales Issue #3 Page 24

by Steve Vernon


  The sound of claws clicking made me look down. Nikki had set Patch on the ground again and Baba’s friends were gathering. Ping Pong the terrier’s jingle bells rang as he jumped up and down at the end of his loose leash. His sentences came out in a rush between jumps. “Wow, pup!‌—‌Imean, kit!‌—‌You’re gonna be‌—‌on TV!‌—‌Maybe you’ll be‌—‌on the innertubes,‌—‌too!”

  “It’s called the ‘interwebs’, goofball,” said Jenni the bulldog. “And it’s way cool, Cowboy.”

  “Yeah, I’ll look for you,” said Riss-riss. “My mom always watches the news.”

  “Thanks, guys,” said Patch.

  “Good walking out there, everyone,” said Pinto Bean. He was trembling, but not from cold. Sammy did it, too, in Heaven. “Out of habit,” he told me once.

  But Patch noticed. “Pinto Bean, are you OK?”

  “Oh, sure. Except I don’t got no one to play Chase ‘n’ Dodge with!”

  “Chase ‘n’ Dodge?”

  “Yeah.” The dog’s bottom went up and he stretched his forelegs on the ground. “Wanna learn how to play?”

  “OK,” said Patch.

  Marta and Baba walked up.

  “What’d the cameraman ask you?” said JP.

  Marta shrugged. “Wanted to hear my part of the story. No big. Did you get some cocoa?”

  “Yeah. I wish the prize had been something else, though. I thought‌…‌maybe if I won some money, we could board the cats for a couple of nights.”

  “Hm. Yeah. That would’ve been good,” said Marta, looking mournfully into her cocoa. But then the next minute, she jumped, sloshing cocoa on her mittens.

  “Whoa, kitty!”

  I looked down. The kit was bounding around with the Chihuahua. Incredible!

  “Patch! You’re playing with a dog!” I said.

  “Uh-huh?” he said, keeping his eye on Pinto Bean.

  “Patch, I’ve never played with a dog!”

  “Really? It’s kinda fun!” he said. He pounced on Pinto Bean.

  Now Riss-riss bowed his front legs. “Can I play, too?”

  “Sure!” said Pinto Bean and Patch.

  Soon, all of Baba’s dog friends were in the game. I watched Patch stalk and run and play with the huge dogs like they were his littermates. They were all being gentle with the kit, but I couldn’t help but admire him.

  “He’s a Good Cat,” said Baba. “And I hope he gets to stay with Marta’s friends.” She scratched the ground. “Sounds like they been having a bad year, from what Marta told your angel friend. Why, their daddy even left them after the girl’s accident. And it sounds like Nikki was somethin’ really special over at School before she drownded.”

  “She’s still special,” I said. Nikki hurried behind Patch with the leash, keeping him in the dogs’ game.

  The hound’s droopy eyes widened. “You’re right, Angel. My mouth was runnin’ ahead of my brain, there. Forgive an old hound.”

  I gave her a slow blink. “Always.”

  “She’s special, all right! They deserve a break this Christmas. If I could, I’d give ’em a real home where they could have a pack of cats if they wanted.”

  “Me, too, Baba. Me, too.”

  21

  After the drive to Marta’s house, JP and Nikki’s mother came to visit us in the shed. It wasn’t quite as dusty as before. If someone had pushed the awful vacuum cleaner around here, I was glad they’d decided to do it while we were gone!

  After the game of Chase ‘n’ Dodge with the dogs, Patch had fallen asleep at the fair. Nikki had taken the pink jelly bag from JP and had carried the kit around in it for the rest of the day. But now that we were in the shed, he was awake, and the nap had fueled his kitten energy reserves. He skittered around the room, occasionally pouncing on me in the cat game we call “Death from Above”, but to be honest, my heart wasn’t in it.

  “Mom, we were in the Pet Parade! I talked to so many kids‌—‌they said they wished they had a cat who could go outside on a leash. Mom, isn’t that cool? Cowboy is so cool! You gotta let us keep him. Do you think I could take him with me to school? Next year? Maybe?”

  “And Bronco, too,” added JP. “Please? I could sell hot chocolate‌…‌or clean peoples’ windshields or cars or something, and maybe I could raise the money to board them somewhere!”

  Their mother didn’t say anything for a while. Patch chomped on my head and tried to wrestle me, but I caught his head between both paws and hugged him to me. His feet battered against my blaze as he tried to get away, but I had him!

  Nikki clapped. “Keep trying, Cowboy!”

  “They’re really good for Nikki, JP, you’re right. But we just don’t have any place to keep them. And boarding animals is expensive. Besides, Cousin Becca will be back tomorrow. I’m not sure you’d make enough money in time.”

  I let the kit go. He ran in circles around me until JP picked him up and began rubbing his tummy.

  “We just don’t have any place to keep them right now,” their mother went on. “I’ll try to call around‌—‌Marta’s mom said she’d let me borrow her church directory‌—‌but a lot of people are out of town this time of year, pr going out of town, like the Riveras. We may not be able to find someone, so please‌…‌keep your expectations realistic.”

  Marta spoke up. “Are you sure your Cousin Becca can’t‌—‌”

  “Uh-uh,” said JP. “Mom said it’s a no-pet zone. She gets too sick.” He sighed.

  “I know. I know,” said Ms. Daly. “I really really hope we find someone to keep your kitties, guys, but I’m just not seeing how that’s going to happen.”

  JP muttered something into Patch’s fur that I didn’t catch.

  “What about Dad?” said Nikki.

  “He’s too far away now, honey. He couldn’t drive down in time.”

  JP sunk his head on his knees, eyes angry. “Probably wouldn’t even try,” he said.

  “JP.” Ms. Daly’s tone made Patch cower. “This is our life, now.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  Ms. Daly ran her hand through her hair. “I can promise you I’ll do everything I can do. I’ll call through that church directory after work tomorrow. And when Cousin Becca gets back tomorrow, I’ll talk to her, too.”

  “Really?” said JP.

  “Really,” she said. “Maybe she knows someone.”

  JP set Patch down. He started fighting my tail, so got up and I meandered over to Ms. Daly. She reached for me and I thought I might get a head rub, but she put her hand on her lap and pushed herself up, instead.

  “Let’s say goodbye to the Riveras. You can come back in the morning and play with the cats. The Riveras are being kind enough to host them until the day after Christmas, so be sure to thank them.”

  “We will,” said all three children.

  JP rubbed me tail-to-nose, then undid the damage, saying, “See you tomorrow, Bronco. Stay warm.”

  Then he stood. Meanwhile, Nikki cuddled Cowboy. She whispered something in his ear, then set him down. Then the Daly family and Marta left the shed, closing the door behind them.

  Patch looked at the door.

  “What’d she say to you?” I asked.

  “Fuzzy Christmas Eve,” he said. “Did you hear what JP said to me when he was holding me?”

  I shook my head.

  The kit fixed me with his blue eyes. “He said, ‘It’ll take a miracle.’”

  I flicked my tail. “That’s doable!”

  Patch pounced on me. “You mean it?”

  I licked his forehead. “I’m going to try. Watch my face, please.”

  He lowered himself to the ground, tail flipping in interest. “Okay.”

  I prayed the words with all my heart, knowing it was the right thing to ask for.

  We need a miracle. The Dalys need a home by Christmas, or else Patch can’t stay with them. Please send them a home!

  I opened my eyes. “Has my face changed at all?” I hadn’t felt a warm feeling, but may
be this miracle was different.

  Patch frowned. “‌…‌Nooo.”

  Hm! “I’ll try it again,” I said.

  I prayed again that Nikki’s family would get a new home by Christmas. No warm feeling.

  “How ‘bout now? Anything change?”

  “Nuh uh. What am I looking for, again?”

  “There’s a stripe on my face‌—‌my last miracle stripe. If I use my miracle, it will disappear.”

  He bobbed his head side to side. “Nope, all your stripes are still there.”

  I thought of where the bobtail had whacked me with her paw.

  “It’s around my eyes.”

  “Oh, it’s THAT stripe? No, it’s THERE, Gingersnap.”

  I lashed my tail. “I’ll try a different prayer.”

  Please, if a new home is too much, too fast, just give them a place to keep Patch until they get a place of their own.

  No warm feeling.

  “It’s still there, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  I swallowed. Was I asking too much?

  “Okay. I’ll‌…‌I’ll keep trying tonight. It’s‌…‌it’s a biggie.” Bigger than flying out from under a car and landing up a tree? “Maybe it will take more time. You get some sleep. I’ll keep praying for the miracle.”

  He wrapped his tail around him, troubled blue eyes avoiding my gaze. But soon he was snoring. I sat facing the window and prayed.

  When the sun rose later, I pounced on the kit.

  “Look at my face. Is the stripe gone?” I thought I’d felt a warm feeling, but then again, I also thought I might have dozed off once or twice during the night.

  Bleary-eyed, he squinted at me. I stood mouse-still.

  Patch looked down at the floor. “No,” he said. “You look the same.”

  I sat back on my haunches.

  How could it be? This was my mission‌—‌what He sent me down here for! I tried asking every way I knew how‌—‌I asked for a small miracle when I thought I was asking too much; I asked for a giant miracle when I thought I wasn’t thinking BIG ENOUGH. Why wouldn’t my request be granted?

  “Gingersnap?” Patch said softly.

  Maybe the fallen world was just too big for one cat‌—‌even an angel cat‌—‌to make a difference.

  “Gingersnap?”

  Or maybe it was too late? Had the snow come early? I leapt to the windowsill, but the yard was bare of snow.

  “Gingersnap? Couldn’t it still happen?”

  I looked over the yard one more time, but though the fruit-colors of the lights gleamed in the window’s reflection, not a speck of white snow shone anywhere, not in the grass or on the wall or atop the trees‌…‌

  Tiny claws swiped my dangling tail.

  “Gingersnap!”

  I leapt back down to the floor.

  “How could this happen? We did everything right. She loves you! You learned to walk on a leash for her! And now‌…‌” I looked at the kit. “That’s it?”

  The kit came up to me, pulled my head aside with a paw, and began licking my ears.

  I sighed. He groomed me, purring the whole time. It was a while before I could lift up my head.

  “Sorry, kit. I’m supposed to be the angel here.” I gave him an apologetic lick. “What was it you were saying?”

  “I asked, couldn’t it still happen? I mean, they just have to find a place for me for a little while. And Nikki’s mom will be calling people today. Maybe it’ll just‌…‌you know‌…‌happen.”

  My tail swished. “That’s‌…‌not a bad notion, kit!”

  His tail lifted. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah! All miracles are good things, but not all good things have to be miracles.” I started to chirrup my joy, but wound up yawning, instead.

  “You were up all night, huh? Why not catch a few winks before Nikki and her family get here? If your face changes, I’ll tell you.”

  “Tha”‌—‌I yawned again‌—‌“anks.” I curled up next to him. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  22

  The children came later that morning. While JP cleaned our litter, Marta plugged in a little heating box her mom had given her. Afterwards, the children talked quietly about Christmas and gifts and the movies while they played with Patch and me. JP even brought a board game so Patch could chase dice.

  Mrs. Rivera brought out lunch for them, and later, when it was growing dim again, she brought them dinner.

  They were just finishing when the door opened with its familiar creak. The children hushed immediately, JP’s hand stopping on my head. Nikki hugged Patch closer.

  JP and Nikki’s mother entered first. Marta’s mother came after her, closing the shed door behind her. She stayed there while JP and Nikki’s mother sat on the Easter tub.

  My heart thudded in my chest. Patch looked at me; I saw the way his eyes traveled across my face, looking at the miracle that hadn’t worked.

  Please no, Lord. Nikki and Patch need each other. What kind of Christmas memory will it be if she has to give him up tomorrow?

  “Cousin Becca and her husband came home,” said Ms. Daly. “I explained everything to them. They said they’re very sorry, and understand and love how much Cowboy and Bronco have helped us this past week. But they’ve sold the motorhome to a couple who are as allergic to cats as they are.”

  Marta’s face pinched, turning red with tears, but she made no sound.

  “It was a great deal, they couldn’t pass it up, and I don’t blame them. The new owners will be picking up the motorhome in a few days. After Christmas, kids, we’ll be moving into Cousin Becca’s spare room.”

  Marta fled to her mother, who wrapped her in her arms.

  Plunk. One of JP’s tears fell into my fur.

  “So‌…‌we have to take ’em to a shelter?”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” JP’s mother swallowed hard and was silent again for a long time. “Even if Cousin Becca didn’t get sick from them, we can’t afford two extra mouths to feed right now.”

  JP leaned over, pulling his sister into a hug. His shoulders shook as he tried to cry silently, but little sobs escaped him. I lay my head on his lap. Nikki frowned down at nothing. Patch mewed, unsure.

  Nikki had gone from hiding in her house to meeting with the Riveras every day, even going to the Christmas fair with her brother and Marta. She even spoke to strangers! But it looked to me like she was already retreating. Patch was good for her. And I knew she was good for Patch. But the miracle hadn’t happened; I’d failed my mission, and now Patch would be in a shelter for who knows how long. And Nikki‌…‌well, I didn’t know what would happen to her.

  “We’ll make sure it’s a no-kill shel‌—‌shelter.” Ms. Daly’s voice caught. She took a deep, deep breath before continuing. “And we won’t take them until the day after Christmas.”

  Nikki kept frowning and rubbing Patch’s fur.

  Ms. Daly swallowed hard. “I promise, once I get a job, once we can move out, we’ll get you a new cat. We should be able to afford one.”

  “But it won’t be Cowboy and Bronco, Mom,” said Nikki. Then she burst into tears. Patch purred desperately as she wept into his fur.

  Ms. Daly went to her children and knelt on the dusty carpet. She gathered us up in her arms.

  “I’m sorry, my loves. I wish things were different.”

  Her voice was strong, but from where I lay, I could see the two tears running down Ms. Daly’s face. “I wish I could make things different for all of us. But we’re going to get through this.”

  She sniffed. JP looked up, startled. Seeing the tears on his mother’s face, his face crumpled again, and his mother stroked his cheek with her palm. Nikki looked up, eyes sharp like claws until she, too, saw her mother’s tears. Her face softened, and she lay her head on her mother’s shoulder.

  “I know you love these cats, munchkins. But even if Marta wasn’t going away for so long, they can’t live in a shed all their lives. They deserve better.”

 
“Mom?” said Nikki. Her voice was warbly from crying.

  “Yes, Pumpernickel?”

  “Can me and JP sleep here tonight?”

  Ms. Daly jolted upright.

  I put my paw on her lap. “Please?” I asked.

  Ms. Daly turned to Marta’s mother. Marta was hugged against her side, eyes bleary, but dry.

  “I can’t see why not,” said Mrs. Rivera. “Do you kids have sleeping bags?”

  “They do,” said their mother. “I can go get them. Nikki, will you be warm enough with the heater?”

  “We have extra blankets,” said Mrs. Rivera quickly. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Marta can sleep in the house, if you think that would be more appropriate.”

  Marta gave her mother a confused look that she ignored.

  “I’m okay with it this once, if you’re comfortable with it.”

  “He’s a sweet boy,” said Mrs. Rivera. “I’m sure there won’t be any trouble. And it’ll make carpooling to the pastor’s house easier.”

  At that, JP stood up, gathering me in his arms. What a shame to split us up just as he was getting good at picking up cats!

  “No, Mom. I’ll go home with you.” He went over to Marta. “Take Bronco,” he said.

  She held her arms out for me. Before he handed me over, he whispered in my ear. “Sorry, Bronc. But I don’t want Mom to be alone on Christmas Eve. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He kissed me on the head and went over to his Mom. He offered her his hand. She seemed startled, then sniffed another tear, letting him help her up.

  “Let’s go get Nikki’s sleeping bag,” he said.

  “Good idea,” she said.

  They came back some minutes later and laid out a pink and black sleeping bag next to the strawberry-looking bag Marta had brought in from the house. I lay on Marta’s feet at the end of her bag, where the hot water bottle was.

  Ms. Daly tucked in Nikki while Marta and I watched from our sleeping bag. JP leaned against the shed door.

  “Mrs. Rivera said you can use the shower inside in the morning,” Ms. Daly said to Nikki. “I’ll be back at ten thirty to pick you up for Christmas at Pastor Wade’s house. Marta, can you help Nikki with the time?”

 

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