Elvis and the World As It Stands

by Lisa Frenkel Riddiough

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “I need to rest for a minute.” He lopes over to his plastic palace and climbs through the door at the top and then into a pile of fluff. He must be laying on his back, because his feet stick out and his toes twitch.

  I contemplate the Transamerica Pyramid and try to pick up a brick with my good paw. No such luck. I lift one in my mouth and drop it onto the base of the structure. I press on it, but I can’t get it to lock in place. So I whack it with my pink splint.

  “Ouch!” The pain runs all the way up to my shoulder. But I think I heard the SNAP! I try again. And yes. SNAP! “Marvelous,” I whisper. Then I laugh at myself for saying such a Mo-ish word.

  I drop another brick into place on the base, but it’s just too painful to do anymore snapping. And besides that, I’m hungry.

  It’s time for a snack. Thankfully, Georgina moved my food and water to the hallway after my accident, and I don’t have to go downstairs. I take a few bites and go check the calendar. It seems like I’ve been here for a lifetime, but it is only July 9. There is a D in the box. Daddy. D today. D tomorrow and Sunday. M on Monday. That’s when Georgina comes back. M is for Mommy. Of course it is. I’m not stupid.

  I turn around at the sound of Mommy’s clippity-clopping.

  “Elvis,” she says. She scoops me up like she does and presses me against her face and breathes her hot, dry breath on my neck. “Elvis, you might be more trouble than you are worth. But here we are. How is your little foot doing?” She kisses my splint and tickles the tips of my toes that are sticking out from all that pink. “Georgina is with her father for the weekend, and I’m leaving, too. But don’t worry. Jasmine will be here in the morning to check on all of you.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask, quite clearly. Oh, right. Why do I bother?

  Mommy sets me back down. Just then Clementine arrives and wraps herself around Mommy’s ankles. But Mommy doesn’t pick her up. She just pats her head and says, “good kitty,” and tells us she’ll be back on Monday morning.

  Mommy clippity-clops down the hall to the stairs, with Clementine trotting behind her. Clementine yowls for attention, but Mommy just keeps going. When Clementine turns back to look at me, I pretend to be busy studying the calendar. But she knows I saw her. “Don’t look at me,” she says. I’m embarrassed for her. Maybe if you were a little nicer, Clementine. But no. You’re not.

  The front door slams shut. Mommy is gone. I don’t understand the rules of this house. I long for the sound of Carly’s cart and Etta’s rumble. I wouldn’t even mind hearing Rupert’s complaints.

  Chapter 12

  When I wake the next morning, Mo is already working on the Pyramid.

  “We’ve got a lot of work to do today, Elvis,” he says.

  I study the picture in the book and direct Mo when necessary. He snaps brick after brick into place. I take a chance and use my pink splint to SNAP one of the pieces in place. But the pain is still too much, and I decide I better hold off. I watch Mo scurry and SNAP. Scurry and SNAP. The Transamerica Pyramid is beginning to look like itself again. Sort of.

  Suddenly, the whole house shakes as the front door slams downstairs. There is a mad scramble on the hardwood floors. And a huffing and panting. A beast has broken into the house and is coming upstairs to attack! The windows rattle, and my fur stands on end. I arch my back and—

  “INCOMING!”

  Before Laverne can even gurgle out a name, a gigantic canine flies into the room, barking and hollering as its furry tail whips from side to side like a weapon.

  I hiss and spring back against the wall, then leap onto the chair and up to the bureau. Papers and trinkets scatter to the floor. My heart pounds in my chest. I try to grab ahold of the curtains with the claws of my good paw, but there is no way for me to climb up. I scoot onto the windowsill and try to save myself.

  Laverne’s bowl shifts on the bureau. A splash heaves over the side.

  The beast stands there barking louder and louder.

  Long strands of gooey slobber hang from the beast’s mouth. It shakes its head, and the wet slop flies onto the chair and the bed and right past my face. A stringy piece of it lands on the Transamerica Pyramid and dribbles down the side.

  I hiss again and call out for Mo while trying to hide behind the curtains.

  “Holy habitat! The Transamerica Pyramid!” Mo says.

  I don’t know what to do, and I can’t bear to see the skyscraper come crashing down again.

  Just then, a long-legged girl with fancy twisted hair comes into the room. She grabs hold of the beast’s collar and pulls it away from certain disaster.

  “Bambi! Bambi! Stop it,” she says. “You’re going to scare everyone. Now SIT! STAY!”

  The girl looks up at me and reaches in my direction. “Oh, my goodness. Elvis! You are adorable. And look at your little broken leg. Don’t worry. Bambi won’t hurt you.” The girl lifts me off the windowsill against my wishes, and I hiss and pull back my head and try to push off from her. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweet thing. My name is Jasmine, and I am your friend.”

  I don’t believe her for a second. But just in case she’s for real, I say, “Then please get control of your dog.” But she just oooohs and ahhhhs and places me on the foot of the bed.

  I immediately jump down, landing awkwardly on my bad paw, and crawl beneath the bed. I scoot to the far corner and watch the beast sniff around Georgina’s room. It puts its snout under the bed and stares at me with its beastly eyes. It heaves a massive paw at me, so I swipe and hiss.

  “Bambi! Leave Elvis alone. My goodness,” Jasmine says.

  The beast pulls back. I watch suspiciously as Jasmine walks over to the bureau and gives Laverne a few pinches of her food flakes. Then she leans down to Mo and lets him crawl into her hands. He scrambles up to her shoulder and behind her collar, and then up onto her head. Jasmine laughs and wiggles. Then she opens the latch to Mo’s plastic palace, and he crawls down her arm and goes inside. Mo fluffs his cheeks and twitches his whiskers as Jasmine adds nuts and seeds to his food tray.

  “All is good in here,” she says. “I’m going to refill your food and water, scoop the box, and check on Clementine. Be right back.” She skips out of the room, leaving Bambi of Beastly Slobber sitting in the middle of the floor, right where Mo’s pot of gold is supposed to be.

  “Sorry about my entrance,” Bambi says. “I didn’t mean to scare you, little kitten. You can come out from under there. I’m extremely friendly. Some people think I’m overly friendly, but is there really such a thing as too friendly? I mean, who wouldn’t want a whole pile of friendliness?”

  I poke my head out and assess the situation. Bambi is a giant. Black and brown with a white neck, white paws, long hair, and floppy ears. And that tail. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

  “I’m working on my manners,” Bambi says. “See how I’m sitting here as still as can be? It’s pretty good. Well, except for my tail. It’s hard to control. But when your human says sit and stay, that’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s easy. Except when it’s hard.”

  “You’re a very big girl,” I say, coming out from under the bed, still quite annoyed.

  “I’m not a girl,” Bambi says. “I’m named after a very famous prince, and he was a boy.”

  “Well, there was a Bambi at the shelter, and she was a girl,” I say.

  Mo skitters over and pipes in, “It’s not a good idea to assume these things.”

  “I know,” I say. Of course I know. Please.

  “That’s okay,” Bambi says. “Part of my training at the shelter is to be patient and calm, especially when I meet someone new. Sometimes I have trouble, though, like I did a few minutes ago. I’m sorry about that. It’s just going to take a while. That’s what Jasmine says.”

  I jump at the mention of the word shelter. “Are you talking about the City Shelter of Care and Comfort?”

  “Yes. It’s an excellent school. I go every Tuesday from fou
r to five P.M. Last week we learned about ‘roll over.’ It’s so much fun. Your human says, ‘roll over,’ and you get on your back and squirm around. It feels good. And you get treats when you do it. You should—”

  “Excuse me,” I say. I can hardly stand all the babble. “Do you know how to get to the shelter?”

  “Yes. Jasmine has a driver’s license now. She has a car and everything. I’m supposed to ride in the back seat. But I love jumping over the seat and sitting in the front. She doesn’t like when I do that, and I’m trying to practice staying in the back. Jasmine says ‘STAY’ really loud. Sometimes it hurts my ears. I try to stay. I really do.”

  Bambi keeps rambling on and on, but the shelter! Maybe this beast is my answer.

  “Bambi, do you think you could take me to the shelter?” I say.

  “Yes. Of course. I—”

  “BAMBI!” Jasmine yells from downstairs. “It’s time to go.”

  Bambi jumps to attention and immediately charges out the door. I hustle to follow him, but my splint slows me down.

  “When do you think we could go?” I call from the top of the stairs. But the beast is focused on Jasmine.

  “COME, Bambi,” she says. “SIT!” Bambi follows her commands and looks back at me and smiles. Jasmine looks up at me, too. “Goodbye, Elvis. See you tomorrow.” They leave as quickly as they arrived.

  My hopes for getting back to the shelter come crashing down again. Just like the Transamerica Pyramid.

  I hobble back into Georgina’s room, where Mo is at work.

  “Hey,” Mo says. “Does this thing look pointy enough?”

  “No,” I say. “Something is definitely wrong with it.” Something is definitely wrong with everything. “Mo, do you think Bambi really could take me back to the shelter?”

  “Anything is possible,” he says. “But let’s just take things one day at a time. Bambi and Jasmine will be back tomorrow. You can discuss it then.”

  “Okay,” I say, and I can feel the hope in my heart picking up speed again.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, I am filled with energy. I almost wish I was a hamster on a wheel and not a kitten with a pink splint that weighs a thousand pounds.

  I stray out into the hallway and check the calendar. Sunday, July 11.

  When Bambi gets me back to the shelter, I’ll find Carly and she’ll tell me where Etta is. Maybe she’s still there. Maybe she’s with a family nearby. Maybe she is right on this very street. And Bambi can get Jasmine to take me to her. It’s perfect.

  “When will Bambi be here?” I ask Mo.

  “Hard to say. Try not to worry about it. Now, let’s get the spire installed on the pyramid. It’s the final touch,” he says.

  I admire the tall, white structure. Wide at the bottom. Skinny at the top. But it’s lopsided. Or something.

  “Where is the spire, anyway?” Mo says.

  “I don’t know,” I say. I sniff around the room looking for it. I check under the bed and behind the chair. Mo crawls along the floorboards, too. But no luck.

  “Oh dear,” he says. Then he grabs a whisker and begins twisting.

  Laverne splashes out a warning. “INCOMING! DANGER!”

  Clementine prances in and sits next to the pyramid.

  “Clementine. Not again. Come on,” Mo says.

  “Ha! Don’t worry about that,” she says. “I’ve got better things to do than knock over your childish building blocks.” She jumps up onto the bureau and sidles up to Laverne’s bowl.

  My body constricts, and there goes the fur on my back again. What is with this feline?

  She inches closer and closer to Laverne’s bowl and presses her eyes up to the glass.

  “Clementine, what are you doing?” Mo asks.

  “Just paying a visit to my aquatic friend.”

  Laverne swims into her cave.

  “Please be careful,” Mo says.

  “Why do you have to do this?” I ask.

  “Maybe I want to take a dip. Anyway, it’s none of your business,” she says. “You don’t even live here, remember?”

  My breathing gets heavy as I watch Clementine press her whole body up against the glass bowl. It moves just slightly, causing a tiny wave on the surface. I snap my tail and twitch my whiskers. I just know she is going to knock it over.

  Mo paces and wrings his hands. “Clementine, please come down from there.”

  I slowly move to the chair next to the bureau. Clementine pulls herself up onto the rim of the bowl and dips a paw into the water and swirls it around. Watching this makes me twitch all over. When she starts to dip her other paw, like she’s going to dive in, I can’t take it any longer. I jump up to the chair, pulling the pink splint along with me, then bound up onto the bureau. I try the best I can to land gracefully on all fours, but my splint flies out in front of me on the slippery wood top, and I lose control.

  My legs splay, and my whole body slides right into Laverne’s bowl, sending it to the very edge of the bureau, where it teeters terribly.

  “NO, NO, NO!” Mo shouts.

  I watch as the bowl hangs on the edge and then tips over, falling to the floor in uncontrollable slow motion.

  Laverne’s home crashes and splashes and rolls across the rug. Water pours out. Blue pebbles scatter everywhere. Laverne’s rock cave flies. And Laverne, poor Laverne! I watch her flip out of the cave and flop over and over until she lands on her side, right next to the Transamerica Pyramid.

  She gasps for breath and blinks slowly.

  I tumble off the bureau, chasing after Laverne as if I could save the whole terrible disaster. “I didn’t mean to do it,” I cry. “I thought Clementine was going to . . . Clementine made me do this!” I say, and she did. She’s terrible. She doesn’t care about anyone.

  “I did no such thing,” she says from up above.

  I’m at Laverne’s side, with Mo bent over her, talking gently. “Laverne. It’s okay. We’re going to help you.”

  I can’t imagine how in the world we are going to save her. Her mouth opens and closes like the howling of the hounds at the shelter. But there is no sound. Her eyes bulge and she stops blinking.

  “Laverne, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I say.

  She doesn’t say anything. Her feathery fins flicker, and she stops moving altogether. Her black eyes stare right at me.

  “She needs water,” Mo says. “We’ve got to get her to water.”

  “Yes,” I say. How will we do that? Where is the water? I look around and think. “My water bowl. It’s in the hall.”

  “That’ll work,” Mo says.

  Mo cradles Laverne in his hands, carefully, preciously, and I don’t know how he is going to walk on hind legs out to the hallway. It’s not far for a human or for me, but for Mo, it’s quite a distance.

  “Get on my back,” I say. “I’ll carry you both.”

  It tickles as Mo crawls up onto my back and then settles in between my shoulder blades.

  “You secure?” I say.

  “Go, Elvis, go!” he says.

  I walk slowly at first, and then move as fast as I can, considering my splint and my passengers. In a matter of seconds, I am in the hall at the water bowl. Mo climbs down and slips Laverne into the water with a lifeless plip.

  Clementine slinks over and the three of us stare in shock.

  “Breathe, Laverne. Breathe,” Mo says.

  She doesn’t move.

  Mo hangs from the side of the bowl and pokes at her. We wait.

  My heart pounds in my chest, something I have certainly become accustomed to. I twitch my whiskers. I look at Mo and want to cry.

  I did this.

  I hang my head and stare at the floor. Georgina is going to be devastated. This is all my fault.

  I know I’m not supposed to get it wet, but I dip my pink splint into the water and push Laverne around. Nothing happens. I splash the water. Still nothing. I close my eyes and drop my head.

  Water dribbles down my face. I must be cryin
g. Then—an astounding splash!

  I look up and Laverne has righted herself and is swimming in circles.

  “Look!” I say.

  “Laverne,” Mo says. “You’re alive. She’s alive!”

  She splashes the surface. “Alive!” she says. “Alive!”

  I laugh. A nervous laugh. A laugh of complete relief.

  Mo chuckles. Then he laughs so hard his paunchy belly jiggles. Even Clementine lets out a sigh.

  In that exact moment, I realize my leg is throbbing. Badly. All that leaping and jumping and landing added up to more pain. But I don’t let on. Because now we have another problem on our hands.

  “How are we going to get her back in her bowl?” I ask.

  No one offers up an answer.

  I wish Georgina was here.

  Chapter 14

  Laverne seems perfectly happy in my water bowl.

  “You stay here with Laverne, and I’ll see what can be done about the mess in our room,” Mo says. “I’ve got some pebbles to gather. When Jasmine gets here, she’ll make things right. Some things are beyond our scope of work, Elvis.”

  I wait by the water bowl while Mo does some cleanup. Clementine hangs around, too. But I’m so mad at her I can barely look in her direction. In the meantime, I try to bite away the wet, pink, sticky stuff on my splint. I manage to tear a few pieces, but I can’t get to the aching part of my leg.

  “You might want to knock it off with all that jumping around, Elvis,” Clementine says. “It’s just going to cause you more pain. And I know all about pain. What I used to do is—” She stops speaking abruptly, as if she wasn’t talking in the first place. Which is fine with me, because the chances of anything useful coming out of her mouth are non-existent. She walks away. Please.

  Moments later, the door slams downstairs and a whirl of noise rises up. Mo joins me next to the water bowl, and Clementine scoots back over.

  Bambi thunders into the hallway, with Jasmine right behind him. Both of them come to an abrupt halt. I try not to look guilty. But I know I am.