Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper (8 page)

“Yup. Who does that?”

“Wow, I don’t know. Seems odd. That was nice of you to
drive her home, though—if that even was her home,” Savannah said with a laugh.

“That’s what I was thinking. But why in the world wouldn’t she want me to know where she lives? Does she think I’m a stalker or something?”

“Hard to tell. You
were
fawning over her clothes,” Savannah said with a laugh.

“Those were cute shoes—looked good with her black leggings,” Iris said.

“Well, I don’t think we’ll see her again,” Savannah predicted.

“Why?”
“She just didn’t seem into cats, that’s all.” Savannah didn’t wait for a response. Instead she said, “Hey, night-night time for me. Been a long day and Adam’s here this weekend. I’m going to bed.”

After ending the call, Savannah looked over at her husband, who had been reading a Kindle book. “So, is our favorite guest he
re all tucked in safe and sound?”

Michael smiled. “Yup. We had a nice visit driving home. Stopped for an ice cream. He told me all about his basketball practice. He’s an enthusiastic sportsman.” He turned off the Kindle, stood, and walked over to Savannah
. “He was ready for bed by nine. I think Rags went up to keep him company.” He put one arm around Savannah and his other hand on her baby bulge. “Are you two ready for bed?”

“We sure are,” Savannah said with a yawn.

“So what was so odd about what Iris told you?” he asked as they walked into their bedroom together.

“Oh, something this woman who came to our meeting did tonight.” Savannah stopped, thought for a minute, and then added, “Well, the more I think about her behavior, the more I wonder if she had
a hidden agenda.”

Chapter Five

“Good morning, buddy,” Michael said when he saw Adam ambling down the stairs, still in his pjs, rubbing his eyes. Rags trotted along beside him. “Ready for breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he said with a wide yawn.

“Hey, didn’t you sleep well last night? You still seem sleepy.”

“Well,” the barely nine-year-old said as he reached the ground floor and walked toward his father, “Rags woke me up and I wasn’t through sleeping.”

“Did he want to play or what?”

“
Yeah, I guess. He was scratching me and pulling off my covers.”

“Scratching you?” Michael asked.

“No,” he said with a laugh, “scratching my covers off of me like this.” The boy made clawing motions in the air while scrunching up his face.

Michael laughe
d. “Did he make a face like that, too?”

Adam looked over at Rags and then at Michael. “No,” he said. “Cats can’t make faces.”

Just then Rags, who was sitting a distance from Adam and Michael on the coffee table, opened his mouth and yawned widely. Both of them laughed out loud, and Adam said, “I guess cats
can
make faces.”

“Who’s making faces?” Savannah asked as she walked into the room slowly, her hands rubbing the top of her bulging stomach.

“Rags just made a face, when he yawned,” Adam said laughing. “Do it again Rags; show Savannah how you make faces,” he urged.

After Adam’s coaxing didn’t work, Michael suggested, “Maybe if you yawn first, he’ll see you yawn and he might do it. Yawning is contagious, you know.”

“Contagious? You mean like a cold?” he asked, looking confused.

“Well, not quite like that,” Michael said with a chuckle. He looked over at Adam, who was staring at Rags and contorting his face, trying to mimic a yawn.

Finally Adam asked, “How do you yawn when you don’t have to yawn?”

“Eas
y,” Michael said. “Watch me.” He swallowed and then opened his mouth, took in a breath, and within a few seconds he yawned.

“How did you do that?” Adam asked.

“Just try it—open your mouth, suck in some air and…”

Adam followed his dad’s instructions, and
within a couple of minutes he yawned. “I did it, Dad. I yawned on purpose.” He looked over at Rags, who still sat staring back at the boy. He waited and watched. “Aww come on Rags, show Savannah how you yawn.” After a few minutes, the boy sat down on the edge of the ottoman and said, “I guess he’s not going to.”

“Yeah,” Michael said. “He must be immune to the yawning disease.”

Adam grinned at Michael. “You’re funny, Dad.”

“You’re both silly,” Savannah said, smiling. “Come on, let’s have some breakfast a
nd then how about we go on an adventure?” She glanced back at Adam and said, “I’m making cat-shaped pancakes.”

“Yay,” Adam said excitedly as they headed toward the kitchen, Rags trotting along behind them.

***

A couple of hours later, Michael pulled Sava
nnah’s car alongside an expanse of chain-link fencing. “What is this place?” Adam asked.

“It’s where we come to take care of some homeless cats,” Savannah explained.

“Oh yeah, Dad told me about that,” he said, straining to see out the backseat window. “Where are they?”

“What?” Michael asked.

“The homeless cats.”

“Inside the fence, under that big building.”

The trio walked through the open gate and toward the crawl space.

“There’s a cat,” Adam said. He stopped and looked up at Michael. “Hey, where’
s he going?”

“Into his den to be with his friends,” Michael said.

“There are more cats under there?” he asked, leaning down to look into the crawl space.

“There are about a dozen,” Savannah said.

Adam was quiet for a minute and then he said, “That’s twelve.”

“Yup.”

“Wow. That’s a lot. Did you bring enough food?”

“Hope so,” Michael said, unfolding three chairs and setting them up a distance from the building.

Adam knelt down and peered into the crawl space again. “I see some cats. I see their eyes.”

Michael walked over, squatted next to him, and said, “Son, these cats are what you call feral.”

“Oh, like some of those at Aunt Maggie’s and Uncle Max’s.”

“That’s right, and they’re afraid of people. Some of them are more frightened than others.” He loo
ked Adam in the eye and said, “I sorta thought maybe you could make friends with one or two of them today. People your size have a way with animals that sometimes big people don’t.”

“You mean kids?” Adam said.

“Yeah, kids. Even frightened animals will sometimes relate to kids. Now, I don’t want you to try picking any of them up, but you might entice one of the younger ones to play.” Michael pulled something out of his back pocket. “I brought this roll of yellow cord for you to drag around. If you walk and wiggle it behind you, some of the cats might come out and play. Want to try it?”

“Okay.” He looked around. “Then can we go exploring?”

Michael glanced over at Savannah, who was sitting in one of the chairs watching him and his son. He winked at her and then said to Adam, “Yeah, we can go exploring. Sounds like fun.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “But first work—okay?”

Adam took on a serious look. “Okay, work.”

“Do you want to drag that hose over here and fill these water bowls?”

“Yeah. I can do that
!” Adam said as he ran toward the spigot. After a few moments he called out, “I can’t turn it on. It’s too hard.”

“Dang, been meaning to fix that,” Michael said. “Where are those pliers, Savannah?”

“In Auntie’s car, I’m afraid. But there might be some in my car. Go look in the trunk.”

Michael stood and thought for a moment, ran his hand through his hair and then said, “Heck, maybe I can turn it.” He took his usual long strides over to where Adam stood at the spigot, got a good grip on the handle, and str
ained to turn it. Finally it loosened just enough to release a slow steady stream of water.

“What are those cages under the building for?” Adam asked as he held the hose and allowed water to trickle into the cats’ water bowls.

“They’re traps.” When Michael saw Adam’s scowl, he added, “Not harmful traps—just cage traps. We want to catch the cats and examine them to make sure they’re not sick.”

Adam leaned over as far as he could and peered under the building again. “I don’t think you caught anything, Dad.
”

“Well, let’s see,” he said. Kneeling, he reached in with Margaret’s cane and pulled one of the humane traps out. “You’re right. Nothing in this one.” He grabbed the other one and pulled it out. “This one’s empty, too.” He leaned back on his heels and sc
ratched his head. He then examined the traps more closely. “Savannah,” he said, “these traps were sprung.”

“Well, yeah, I can see that—and still no cats inside.”

He furrowed his brow. “So did someone spring the traps before the cats got inside, or did they let the cats out?”

“Why would someone let them out?” she asked.

“Oh, people do all kinds of odd things, Savannah. Who knows?” He thought for a minute and then said, “In fact, people probably wonder why we want to trap cats. They think we’re odd.” He squinted his eyes and looked more closely at one of the traps. He motioned to Savannah. “Come here. Look at this.”

She eased up out of the chair and walked over to where Michael knelt. “Most of this tuna is gone. It looks like a cat has been in here. I
’ll just bet someone did let it out.”

She sighed. “That’s disappointing. How in the world can we help these cats if we have someone working against us?” She walked back over and sat in the chair. “Who could it be?” She leaned forward and said, “An elderly
gentleman came one day when we were here. He didn’t seem any too happy about what we were doing. I wonder if he’s sabotaging our efforts.”

“Water bowls are finally full,” Adam said with a deep sigh. “That took a long time…drip, drip…drip,” he mimicked.

Michael smiled over at his son. “Okay, I’ll turn off the faucet. Good job, Adam.” He grabbed the bag of kibbles and filled the food bowls, then pushed them into the crawl space. He looked over at the boy, winked, and said, “Want to go scavenging while the cats eat?”

“Sca-ven-ging?” he questioned.

“Uh, searching for treasures,” Michael explained.

“Sure,” he said, his face lighting up.

Michael smiled over at Savannah. “Wanna come?”

“I think I’ll just sit and watch the cats. The sun feels good,” she said,
looking up at the sky, “whenever it peeks out from behind those clouds.”

“Okay, see you later.”

“’Bye Savannah,” Adam said with a wave.

She waved at them and then settled back to enjoy the intermittent warmth.

When Michael and Adam returned, Michael stopped in his tracks. He quickly held his hand out to halt his son’s forward motion. “Will you look at that,” Michael whispered. He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, snapped a picture, and then grinned down at Adam, who was also smiling. Just then Savannah stirred. She opened her eyes, raised her head, and looked around. “Oh hi,” she said when she spotted Michael and Adam. She sat up, moved her feet from their resting spot on the second chair, and yawned.

“Awww, you scared them away,” Adam said as
he rushed toward Savannah eager to show her his treasures.

“Scared who?” She sat up straight, looking from side to side.

Adam grinned. “The cats.”

“Yeah,” Michael said, “there were cats over here watching you sleep.”

“There were?” she looked down at the ground around her, behind her.

He held his phone out for her to see the photo. “Oh my gosh, look how close they were. There’s one of the pretty—dirty—white ones. Wish I could get my hands on that one; give it a bath and a pristine environment. It doesn’
t belong out here.” Her voice cracked. “Oh darn…none of them do. This just makes me so mad…and sad.”

“It’s okay honey,” Michael said.

She looked up at him and then over at Adam, who stared back through wide blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” she said. “I jus
t don’t like to see cats mistreated—well, none of us do.”

Adam asked solemnly, “Is somebody hurting them?”

“No, I don’t think so, but cats shouldn’t have to live under a building. They should be in homes with people to take care of them.”

Adam thought f
or a moment and then said, “Those cats I saw didn’t look sad. Maybe they like camping out.”

Savannah couldn’t help it; she chuckled. “Camping?” she said. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to look at it; they’re camping out. Camping is fun, isn’t it Adam?” she
said, patting him on the chest. “You know, you sure have a way of making me smile.” She pulled him to her in a hug. “I just love that about you.”

When she let him go, he stepped back a little. Head down, hands in pockets, he shrugged. “I guess I just don
’t have anything to be sad about,” he said.

Savannah glanced up at Michael and saw him press his lips together and wipe at his eyes. He took a deep breath before saying, “So, wanna show Savannah your treasures?”

“Yeah,” he said enthusiastically as he reached deep into one of his front pockets and pulled out a closed fist. He turned his hand over and opened it.

“A marble…wow. That’s a nice one—a cat-eye, right?” Savannah asked.

“Yeah,” he said excitedly. And then hesitantly, he asked, “But not a real one, right?”

Savannah glanced at Michael, who was smiling. She looked back over at Adam. “Certainly, not a real cat-eye; no. But it’s a fine marble. And a bottle cap off of…”

“RC Cola,” he said, turning it over to show her.

“Good job. What else is here? A screw—gold screw. Nice,” she said.

“And a penny. I found it over by the big trash box.”

She hesitated. “Oh, the Dumpster? Cool.”

“I found cigarettes and a bandage and…what else, Dad? Oh a bottle for winos.”

Savannah la
ughed. “A wine bottle?”

“Yes. Dad said I couldn’t bring that stuff home. I found rocks, but Dad said they weren’t usual, so I should leave them here.”

“They weren’t
unusual
,” Michael corrected. “They were just ordinary.”

Savannah squeezed Adam’s shoulde
r. “Well, you did pretty good.” She looked at Michael, who sat in a chair next to her. “What do you have there? Did you find a treasure, too?”

“Oh,” he said, looking down at the object in his hand, “I believe it’s part of an emblem off an old car.”

“I found it; Dad’s just carrying it for me ’cause it won’t fit in my pocket,” Adam said, taking the piece of chrome from Michael and showing it to Savannah.”