Catalyst

by Sarah Beth Durst

   Chapter 14

  EVERYONE WAS SILENT FOR AN INSTANT.

  And then Harrison exploded as if he were a soda bottle that had been shaken. “She said she’d help! This isn’t helping!”

  Zoe agreed. She felt hot tears prick the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back. “She was supposed to be here.” Aunt Alecia was supposed to shrink Pipsqueak and make it so they could return home and live normal lives.

  “Yes!” said Harrison. “Come to my house, she said, and we did. And we went and we went . . . And now we’re supposed to go off into the mountains by ourselves, following a map—to what? She doesn’t even claim she’s going to be there when we arrive!”

  “What will be there?” Buttermouse asked.

  “We don’t know!” Harrison shouted. “This was supposed to be the goal! All we had to do was reach her house, she said. We’re supposed to get answers, not a cryptic note and an x-marks-the-spot map! I want answers now!”

  Me too, Zoe thought. And she wanted the promised help. She tried not to let the disappointment overwhelm her. After all, they did have a map to . . . somewhere? Aunt Alecia’s note said they’d find help there. Maybe that help would tell them what to do. “I want answers and help.”

  “We made it!” Harrison said. “Isn’t that enough? I don’t want another journey!”

  Zoe agreed one hundred percent. Aunt Alecia had promised she’d help them if they made it to her house, which they’d done.

  We can’t stop now, though! Zoe thought. We made it this far. We can make it farther!

  “Maybe your aunt doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Harrison said. “Maybe this map doesn’t lead anywhere. Maybe she doesn’t have any answers, and there’s no solution to the problem of a giant cat.”

  Pipsqueak made a little worried prrt sound.

  “There has to be!” Zoe said. They couldn’t have come all this way for nothing. “We can’t just bring Pipsqueak back home the way she is. Best case, she’d have to stay hidden in the shed all the time, and that would be a terrible life. Worst—and much more likely—case, she’d be discovered and taken away”—probably to somewhere awful, and where they certainly wouldn’t love her the way Zoe did.

  Pipsqueak whispered, “Dog.”

  “Exactly!” Zoe said. “The flying poodle was found, and it was chaos! If we go back now, without knowing anything about what to do about what’s happening to my kitten—”

  “Dog in the yard,” Pipsqueak said louder.

  Zoe and Harrison quit arguing.

  Stepping outside, they saw the green dog in the yard, sniffing at the wreckage of the shed that Pipsqueak had accidentally destroyed. The dog now sported six gloriously fluffy tails, all splayed out like a peacock’s feathers.

  “Wow, that’s a lot of tails,” Harrison said, awe in his voice.

  “Beautiful tails,” Buttermouse said approvingly. “Almost as beautiful as my wings.”

  “Don’t scare him off,” Zoe whispered. Each time she saw this dog, she was more and more convinced he was just frightened, not dangerous.

  “There must be a reason he’s been following us,” Harrison whispered back. “I want to know what it is.”

  “Feed him,” Buttermouse suggested. “That’s how I knew you were friendly.”

  “Good idea. If we feed him, he might stay,” Zoe said. “I’ll see if there’s any dog food.”

  “Cat food too, please,” Pipsqueak requested.

  Zoe called gently to the dog as she backed through the door. “Don’t be scared. It’s okay. We won’t hurt you. That’s a good boy. We’ll get you some food. Would you like that? Food?”

  He didn’t run away, which Zoe took as a good sign.

  “Keep an eye on him,” Zoe told Harrison.

  She hurried through the house, looking for the kitchen, which she found quickly—it wasn’t that big a place. It felt a bit like a log cabin. Everything was made of wood, and there was a wood-burning stove in the center of the kitchen. She plugged her phone into an outlet on the counter. In a pantry, she found huge bags of cat food and dog food, as well as rabbit, hamster, and bird food, and she hauled the relevant food to the front of the house, wondering why her aunt stored so much animal food when there didn’t seem to be any pets. Then she filed that question low on her mental list of things to ask her aunt, if she ever got the chance.

  Outside, Zoe gave some hamster pellets to Buttermouse, poured out some of the dog food, and opened the cat food for Pipsqueak, who plunged her face into it. Zoe retreated to where Harrison stood, just inside the doorway, and watched as the green dog crept toward the porch, hesitating every few steps.

  At last the dog reached the food, sniffed it, and began to eat, chomping with his multiple rows of teeth. Wagging his many tails, he looked up and said in a growly voice, “Thank you.”

  “He talks!” Harrison said.

  “At this point it probably would have been more surprising if he didn’t,” Zoe said. “What’s your name? Where did you come from?”

  Shoving his muzzle deeper into the food, he didn’t answer.

  “I bet your name is Oz, for the Emerald City,” Zoe said. She kept her voice as light as possible, hoping a casual conversation would make the dog feel more comfortable. She didn’t want him to flee as soon as he finished eating. If he was following them for a reason, she wanted to know what it was. He might need help.

  “Or Hulk? The Hulk’s green,” Harrison offered.

  “Yoda?” Zoe suggested.

  “Mike Wazowski.”

  “Shrek,” Zoe said. “Or Beast Boy.”

  “Green Lantern?” Harrison said. “Except he’s not green. Ditto Green Arrow.”

  “Gamora,” Zoe said. “Except he’s not a girl dog.”

  “Wait! I’ve got it! Kermit.”

  Zoe tried it out. “Kermit the Dog. Love it.” She asked the dog, “What do you think? Do you like it? Do you want to tell us what your name is?”

  The dog nosed the empty food dish. “I like Kermit.”

  Harrison poured him more food. “Why were you following us, Kermit?”

  Swallowing, he said, “I . . . don’t know. I felt like I should. Like you’re my pack, and I’m supposed to be with you.”

  “Then why did you try to attack us in the woods?” Zoe asked.

  “I didn’t! I wanted to talk to you, to ask if you were my pack, to ask if that’s why I felt like I should follow you. But then the cat chased me away . . .”

  “I’m sorry,” Pipsqueak said meekly. “I won’t chase you away now.”

  “Thank you,” Kermit said. He resumed eating.

  After a few more minutes of watching Kermit and Pipsqueak happily chowing down, Zoe returned to the kitchen and filled three more bowls of varying sizes with water for Pipsqueak, Kermit, and Buttermouse.

  Harrison helped her carry the bowls outside.

  Zoe and Harrison didn’t talk to each other as they checked Aunt Alecia’s cabinets and refrigerator for food they could eat. Harrison helped himself to a hunk of cheddar cheese, fed some to Buttermouse, who had followed them to the kitchen, and ate the rest with bread. It wasn’t exactly a grilled cheese, but it was close. Zoe found raspberry jam and made herself a jam sandwich.

  “Guess we have another unexplained mystery,” Harrison said. “Why did that dog feel compelled to follow us?”

  Taking a chunk of cheese from Harrison’s plate, Buttermouse fluttered up to the ceiling and perched on one of the kitchen rafters. “Because you feel like friends. I felt the same way.” His blue wings opened and shut as he nibbled on his feast. “I could have flown anywhere once I had my wings of freedom, but I chose to stay with you.”

  Harrison shook his head. “It feels like there’s more than that. I mean, you talked with us before you decided to stick with us. You had a chance to see that you liked us. The dog said he followed on instinct. Why would that be his instinct, especially after Pipsqueak scared him? If your aunt were here—”

  “But she’s
not.” Zoe took a deep breath. “I made Pipsqueak a promise that I’d take care of her, and I’m not going to break that promise. Even if it means going farther. Do you . . . Would you . . . What do you want to do?”

  For a long moment Harrison didn’t say anything. He stared at a bit of faded wallpaper in a way that made Zoe think he wasn’t seeing the wallpaper at all, that he was lost in his thoughts. At last he said, in a much quieter voice, “It’s just that this is it. Tomorrow’s Wednesday. It took us almost three days to get here, and it’ll take us the same amount of time to get back. Six days total. This new journey looks like another two days in the opposite direction from home . . . The math doesn’t work. If we don’t start heading home soon, like tomorrow, we won’t make it back by the time camp ends. Surita will have to return home without us, and our parents will know we lied.”

  Zoe hadn’t thought about that. She crossed to where her phone was charging and checked it. It displayed a series of texts from her family, all about how they were looking forward to seeing her on the weekend. Camp was halfway over.

  If we turn around right now, we’ll make it back in plenty of time.

  If we don’t turn around . . .

  Her family would be furious—and worried.

  On the other hand, if they didn’t continue, what would happen to Pipsqueak?

  But they didn’t all have to go. Maybe she could keep Harrison from getting into trouble. “You could call Surita and have her come get you, and I’ll take Pipsqueak and the others north. At least then your parents will never know you weren’t at camp.” She watched his face, hoping he’d say of course he’d come too, no matter what the risk.

  He snorted. “Yeah, but when you don’t come home, they’ll know I let my best friend disappear.”

  “We’ll think up some excuse. Or Surita will.”

  He was silent again, thinking, and she knew he was tempted. His parents were laid-back, but this was on a whole other level.

  “Before, there was a chance we’d find Aunt Alecia and get back home without anyone finding out. Now that chance is over. But there’s no need for both of us to get into trouble,” Zoe said. It was her cat and her idea. “If you want to call Surita, I’ll understand.”

  “You know she doesn’t like to be my taxi service.” Harrison managed a wan smile. “Besides, given how long the trip will take, we should have plenty of time to figure out how to tell our parents where we went instead of camp.”

  Zoe felt herself smiling back at Harrison. “You’ll come to the mountains with me, even though it means extending our trip and pretty much erasing any chance we had of getting through this without our parents noticing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “We still don’t have answers. How can I return home before we know why? Why Pipsqueak? Why Buttermouse? Maybe even why the dog followed us.” He shrugged. “Besides, you’re my best friend. No way am I making you do this alone.”

  She felt as if she’d never stop smiling. “Then we’ll keep going north until we know why all of it is happening.” And what to do about it.

  * * *

  They spent the night at Aunt Alecia’s house. The next morning, before they left, Zoe texted Surita: “We might not be back by Friday.” And then she texted her family, in hopes they wouldn’t be too worried: “Having fun! Love you so much!” Plus a bunch of heart emojis.

  Before she could shut it off, her phone binged. Surita. “YOU CAN’T BE LATE!!! What do I tell your parents?”

  Zoe texted back: “Don’t know.”

  Surita texted a bunch of irate emojis.

  Zoe: “Sorry.”

  Then she turned the phone off.

  “Let’s go,” Zoe said.

  She and Harrison climbed onto Pipsqueak’s back.

  “Do you want to come, Kermit?” Zoe asked.

  He barked. “You’re pack! Yes!”

  They helped him up onto the cat’s back, where he curled up between them. Buttermouse rode too, nestled in the fur on Pipsqueak’s head.

  Loaded with passengers, Pipsqueak headed down the dirt driveway.

  Harrison consulted the map, matching it against the map in his phone. “Looks like we have a few fields to cross.”

  “Feel like running again?” Zoe asked Pipsqueak.

  “Oh no,” Harrison moaned.

  “Oh yes!” Pipsqueak shouted, leaping forward.

  Laughing, Zoe held on to the cat’s fur. Harrison gripped both Pipsqueak and Kermit, and Buttermouse lifted off, flying alongside them.

  Eventually they reached the forested slopes that marked the start of the White Mountains. It was slower going here than through the trees along the highway. These woods had never been tamed for houses or fields—they were just slope after slope of pine trees and birches. And a lot of rocks. So many rocks. No wonder they call it the Granite State, Zoe thought. She hoped Pipsqueak’s paws were okay after walking so many miles over so many rocks.

  At the base of one of the mountains, they traveled alongside a stream. Pipsqueak carefully kept her paws out of the water as she minced from stone to stone. Zoe saw the shadows of fish in the frothing water.

  “Any idea how close we are?” Zoe asked Harrison.

  “No coverage here.”

  “Use the map, not your phone.”

  “Oh, right. Forgot.” He unfolded the map Aunt Alecia had left them and studied it. Then he waved it in front of Zoe. “I think we have to pass this ski resort first. Looks like a small one, but still . . .”

  “Good thing it’s summer,” Zoe said.

  As they traveled, they saw cows grazing on the slopes, chewing on patches of grass between the old stone walls. The cows didn’t seem to notice them. But as Zoe and her friends drew closer to the ski resort, houses began to appear. Gas stations. Antique shops. More antique shops. They stuck to the woods, skirting the tiny town.

  “We need to get to the other side of the ski mountain,” Harrison said. “I don’t think we can follow the road around it. It’s too exposed. We’ll be seen. I think we’ll need to go over the mountain.”

  They passed the lodge with its empty parking lot. Soon Zoe saw the chairlift. Unused in summer, it looked like a sleeping spider, with its web stretching up the side of the mountain. They slowed as they approached it. “Wish it were running,” Zoe said. “It would be a lot easier to cross the mountain if we could just ride up.”

  “I’ve never ridden a chairlift,” Harrison said.

  “I have. Once.” Her family had tried skiing. She remembered Aunt Alecia had gone with them. This was long before Mom’s new job. “I fell at the top.”

  “Then it’s probably good we aren’t riding it,” Harrison said.

  “I only fell because I was wearing skis.”

  “I think you’ve identified the major flaw with skiing,” Harrison said.

  It was too bad they couldn’t use the chairlift. It went straight up through the trees. Zoe eyed the wires, an idea forming. “Cats have really good balance, don’t they?”

  “Yes,” Pipsqueak said. “Why do you ask?”

  “Could you walk on that?” Leaning forward on Pipsqueak’s back, she pointed at the chairlift wires.

  Harrison squeezed her arm. “Zoe, what are you suggesting?”

  “We can’t ride it. But maybe Pipsqueak doesn’t need to.”

  Pipsqueak trotted to the chairlift, then jumped on top of the base building with Zoe, Harrison, and Kermit clinging to her back. She sniffed at the wires running out of it. The empty, stationary chairs swung in the wind. Placing one paw on the wire, she tested it.

  “This is a terrible idea,” Harrison said. “What if it snaps?”

  “It’s made to hold thousands of people on hundreds of chairs. It can take our weight.” At least I think it can, she thought, then shook off the worry. Of course it can.

  “What if she falls?”

  “I’m a cat,” Pipsqueak said reasonably. “I always land on my feet.”

  She stepped ont
o the wire, and it sagged beneath her. But Zoe was right—the ski lift had been designed to carry hordes of happy skiers, and now it had to hold only two people plus one elephant-size cat and a dog. Taking a careful step forward, Pipsqueak spread out her weight.

  At first she wobbled, stepping over the top clamp of each chair and pausing on each pole, but then she found her footing and began tightrope walking along the bowed wire with assurance.

  “She’s doing it!” Harrison said.

  “Yes, I am!” And Pipsqueak continued on faster, with increased confidence.

  In summer, the ski slope looked like a green river. It cut through the pine trees, twisting and turning. A few snow-grooming machines were parked on the sides, looking like slumbering monsters. At trailheads, each green river was marked with a green circle, blue square, or black diamond.

  Twisting around, Zoe looked at the view behind them, thinking that all of New Hampshire was visible at once. She saw mountains, fields, farms, towns, rivers. And probably a hundred antique shops. It was the best view she’d ever seen.

  And it only got better.

  At the top, Pipsqueak leaped off and landed in a crouch beside a map of ski slopes. She trotted a few yards to the bare peak of the mountain, beside a closed lodge. Before them lay the White Mountains.

  Zoe felt her eyes widen, as if that would help her see it all at once. Green mountains, blanketed with evergreens, overlapped one another. Beyond them, the green faded to blue, then to purple. Blurred by clouds, the farthest mountains looked as if they were painted. Pipsqueak sighed happily. “I’ve read about mountain views. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  “Almost like climbing Mount Everest,” Harrison said. “You know—if there were ski slopes and giant cats in the Himalayas. But I imagined a view like this, where it feels like you can see the entire world.”

  “Which way from here?” Zoe asked. Harrison had Aunt Alecia’s map.

  Opening it, he studied the map and then pointed. “I think we need to go that way—”

  Without waiting for him to finish, Pipsqueak bounded down the opposite side of the mountain, landing many yards down the slope and then leaping again. Zoe whooped as if she were on the best roller coaster ever.