Catalyst

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Pipsqueak agreed. “I believe too.”

  Harrison jerked his thumb at the cat. “The giant talking cat agrees. I don’t think you can get more definitive proof than that.”

  Zoe shook her head, trying to find the right words. She did believe what her eyes were telling her about this world and what Aunt Alecia and Cow had told her about their animal friends, but she didn’t feel like she was magical. She felt like herself—ordinary Zoe, who was going to be in so much trouble with her parents when Surita came home from camp without her and Harrison. “Am I really magic?”

  “You are to me,” Pipsqueak declared. She lay down and tilted her head so Zoe could pet between her ears. “It wasn’t just my body that changed. My whole life changed because you found me. Because of you, I’ve had adventures. I’ve jumped across rooftops and climbed up chairlifts. I’ve seen the world! I’ve seen two worlds! I’ve made friends that I never would have been able to talk to before. You. The dog boy. Even the girl who called me a rodent. And Buttermouse and Kermit, of course.”

  “But if this happened only because you met me . . .” Zoe felt her eyes grow hot, as if she was about to cry. “You could have led a normal life as an ordinary cat. You wouldn’t have had to be scared. We wouldn’t have had to lie to my parents and leave home to hike through the wilderness . . .”

  Placing a paw on her head, Pipsqueak began to lick Zoe’s hair. To Zoe it felt like sandpaper every time her tongue caught a bit of cheek or forehead.

  Zoe ducked away. “What are you doing?”

  “You’re upset,” Pipsqueak said, rising to her feet. “I’m calming you. Are you done being ridiculous?”

  Harrison was smothering a laugh. “She’s certainly done being dry.”

  “If you hadn’t helped me change, I wouldn’t be me,” Pipsqueak said simply.

  That was true. Zoe thought of how amazing it was to be able to talk with her kitten, to have adventures with her, to share all these new memories. Still . . .

  Pipsqueak bent down and licked harder, and Zoe started to laugh. “Hey, that tickles!”

  Arms spread wide, Zoe launched herself at Pipsqueak’s side. Pipsqueak pretended to be knocked over, and they slid down a grassy slope. Harrison joined in, and they rode the cat like a sled until they slowed in a heap, laughing, next to a blueberry bush.

  Zoe leaned her cheek against the cat’s side. “Thanks, Pipsqueak.”

  “Hey, it’s true for me too,” Harrison said to Zoe, panting from laughing so hard. “You changed me by being my friend. If I didn’t know you, I’d be home, playing video games, rather than here, playing with a giant cat and learning that life is way bigger and stranger than I knew. Because of you, I’ll have a best friend forever. And because of you, I’ll be grounded for the rest of my life when our parents discover we never went to camp.”

  Also true.

  “I hate to say it, Zoe,” Harrison said, “but we don’t have long before our parents know we didn’t go to camp. We have to figure out how we’re getting home and what we’re going to tell them when we get there.”

  “Pipsqueak . . .” Zoe’s throat felt clogged. Aunt Alecia had been right: seeing Sanctuary made it clear. This place was perfect for a giant cat. Zoe could see how happy Pipsqueak was here, with Cow, with an entire new world to play in. She should stay, Zoe thought.

  “I know,” Pipsqueak said. “It’s time to go home.”

  Cow made a meowlike yelp and said the words Zoe didn’t want to say: “You already are home! You’ll never be safe in her world! This is where you belong!”

  She does belong here, Zoe thought.

  This was what the entire journey had been about: finding a way to keep Pipsqueak safe and happy.

  And she’d found a better answer than she’d ever imagined.

  I brought her home, Zoe thought.

  Pipsqueak would be happy here. She deserved to be somewhere she could be herself, with a whole world to explore, filled with other giant cats to befriend and plenty of strange mice and birds to play with. This was a giant cat’s paradise. She didn’t deserve to spend her life in hiding, crammed into a shed in the backyard, and she certainly didn’t deserve to be shrunk down and made less than who she was supposed to be.

  “Out in the nonmagic world, what is there for you?” Cow asked. “Being chased by farmers who don’t understand what you are? Having to hide every day of your life? Never being free to be yourself ?”

  All true, true, and true.

  But Pipsqueak looked torn. She swiveled her head between Zoe and Cow. Her claws kneaded the grass. “I . . . I . . .”

  Taking a breath, Zoe did the bravest thing she’d ever done.

  She said goodbye.

  “Cow’s right,” Zoe said. “This is what we were trying to find: a way for you to be safe, a place where you belong. You’ll be happy here.” She threw her arms around the cat’s neck and hugged her again. “I’ll miss you.”

  It was the right thing to do, she knew, even if it hurt. She had to do what was best for Pipsqueak. Zoe tried hard not to cry into Pipsqueak’s fur. “I’ll never forget you,” she promised. “And I’ll visit whenever I can.”

  Pipsqueak nuzzled her head. “But I’m not ready to say goodbye!”

  “Me neither.” She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to say goodbye at all. But if I’d gotten what I wished for, and Pipsqueak became an ordinary cat again . . . that would have been a goodbye too.

  “Promise you’ll visit?” Pipsqueak’s voice was small.

  That was an easy promise to make. “Yes!”

  “If our parents ever let us out of the house again,” Harrison muttered.

  He was right. Her parents were going to be furious that she’d lied to them and come here instead of camp. They would never understand. Especially if I don’t tell them the truth.

  What if I did tell them the truth?

  She thought of her mother and Aunt Alecia. Aunt Alecia had tried to tell Mom the truth, and Mom hadn’t believed her.

  “Zoe? You will be able to visit, won’t you?” Pipsqueak asked.

  “I . . .” How could she convince her family to believe her? Without proof . . . If only she could show them Pipsqueak . . . Could I?

  “You’re worrying me, Zoe,” Pipsqueak said, still kneading the grass.

  “Come home with us. Just briefly. I’ll explain everything to my family and show them how you’ve changed, and they’ll see how amazing you are, and then Aunt Alecia can bring you back here where you’ll be safe. My family won’t keep me from visiting if they understand why I had to help you!”

  Pipsqueak nuzzled the top of her head. “Of course I’ll come.”

  Breaking away from the flock, Buttermouse zoomed toward them. “Ooh, I want to come too! So long as we can return to this place.”

  Kermit wagged his many tails. “Me too! You’re my pack! I want to help! If your family meets all of us, maybe they won’t be angry. Maybe they’ll understand.”

  Harrison waved his hands. “Wait, wait, wait! You’re talking about showing your family? What if someone sees and posts about Pipsqueak online? What if everything we were afraid of comes true?”

  “After my family meets her, she’ll come back to Sanctuary, and it won’t matter if anyone saw her or not. She’ll be safe. They all will.” And I won’t have to say goodbye just yet.

  Cow frowned at them, clearly concerned. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” Zoe and Pipsqueak said at the same time.

  Cow led them back to the portal. The shimmer was still there, a hard-to-see wrinkle in the air. It reminded Zoe of a tear in a piece of cellophane.

  “Come back soon,” Cow said.

  “We will,” Zoe said, though it hurt to say it. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable. But maybe she could make some things right at the same time.

   Chapter 18

  ZOE AND HARRISON TUMBLED OUT through the shimmer, back into the ordinary world. Immediately, Zoe saw the pine trees, the blueberry b
ushes, and her aunt sipping tea.

  Putting down her tea, Aunt Alecia jumped up and clapped her hands. “Now you understand! See how amazing it feels? Helping creatures find where they belong! This is your destiny! Now that you—”

  Pipsqueak, Kermit, and Buttermouse trotted out of the shimmer behind them. “Very nice other world,” Pipsqueak said politely. “But we’re not ready to say goodbye to this one yet.”

  “You . . . what?” Aunt Alecia’s eyes bulged. She pointed to Pipsqueak, then the shimmer, then back at the animals. “But . . . it’s Sanctuary! The perfect place, where you’ll be accepted and loved and safe, where you belong! Why would you come back?”

  “We’re going to help our pack!” Kermit said.

  “Yes. They helped us, and now we get to help them,” Buttermouse said, and then did an aerial somersault.

  “Family helps family,” Harrison said.

  Zoe thought the Acharyas’ family motto—and the broad way they defined family—made perfect sense. She smiled at all of them.

  Aunt Alecia sputtered. “But . . . but . . .”

  “Don’t you know cats always want to be on the opposite side of any door?” Pipsqueak said. “Zoe helped me become who I am. She came on this journey with me, all to help me. Maybe it didn’t turn out the way we thought it would, but now I want to help her and tell her parents why she came north instead of going to camp.” She leaned against Zoe.

  “And then she’ll come back here,” Zoe said, even though she hated saying it.

  Her mouth hanging open, Aunt Alecia tried to form words. “I . . . I don’t . . . Zoe . . . People aren’t prepared for the reality of magical creatures. My sister least of all! Zoe . . . Your mother pushed me away when I tried to share all this with her.”

  “You didn’t have proof to show her.” Zoe waved her hand at the animals. Buttermouse, as if on cue, flew in a circle, displaying his lovely blue wings and rainbow pelt.

  “She didn’t want to see it,” Aunt Alecia said. “She could have come here, to the portal. She could have seen for herself, but instead she decided I was an embarrassment.”

  “You don’t know how she’ll react when she’s faced with real proof,” Zoe said. “I don’t know either. I didn’t give my parents or my brother a chance.” But that was going to change. I didn’t even try before, Zoe thought. I just ran.

  “But you’ve already reached safety! Think of the risk!”

  Harrison chimed in. “People do lots of things all the time that aren’t guaranteed safe. They decide it’s worth the risk.” He was on Pipsqueak’s opposite side, hugging her furry leg. “Like flying in airplanes. Riding in cars. Swimming with sharks. Hiking on volcanoes.”

  “Eating food,” Zoe added.

  “True,” Harrison said. “Why are we designed to breathe and eat through the same tube? It’s ridiculous. A little flap is supposed to keep us safe? Why not have one mouth for breathing and another for eating? But we don’t stop eating . . . Wait, where was I going with that?”

  “It will be safe, if you help us,” Zoe said to her aunt. “Can you give us a ride home and then bring Pipsqueak and the others back when we’re done?”

  “I . . .” Aunt Alecia looked as if she wanted to argue more but had run out of words.

  “By car, it’s half a day instead of several days,” Zoe said. “The sooner we can get home, the less worried our parents will be. And the lower the risk of being seen.” Her parents would still be furious when they realized she’d lied to them and hadn’t gone to camp, but less furious would help. She wanted the chance to say she was sorry and make everything right. She wanted them to be able to understand—and, hopefully, help her keep Pipsqueak and the others in her life. That chance was the gift Pipsqueak, Buttermouse, and Kermit were giving her before they said goodbye. “Please, Aunt Alecia. If I can make them understand, maybe they’ll let me come visit!”

  This way, she might not lose Pipsqueak entirely. She’d still be able to see her. She’ll still be mine, and I’ll still be hers.

  Aunt Alecia took a deep breath, as if she were about to argue once more, and then she deflated. “Of course I can drive you. My truck is nearby. But you need to be the one to explain to your parents. I’m not going to argue with my sister again. I’ll drop you off and wait in the truck until Pipsqueak, Buttermouse, and Kermit are ready to leave.”

  Zoe hoped Aunt Alecia would want to talk to Mom, but she wasn’t going to force her. If she didn’t want to risk another argument with her sister . . . Well, Zoe had kept the truth from her parents and her brother, so how could she criticize? It’s up to me to tell the truth. “That’s fine.”

  They trooped through the woods until they reached a battered pickup truck with a horse trailer hitched to it. It was more rust than paint. Aunt Alecia patted its hood as if it were her trusty steed. “Everyone in!”

  Coming around the truck, Aunt Alecia opened the back of the trailer. Pipsqueak sniffed it the way she’d sniffed the box fort in the shed, and then she squeezed herself inside. She filled most of the trailer. Contorting herself, she managed to turn around, settling in and leaving a tiny space for Zoe. “Nice box.”

  Zoe started to climb in with her, then paused and looked back at Harrison. He was eyeing the trailer, and she remembered that he got carsick when he felt bounced around too much. “Can you ride in the front with Kermit and Buttermouse?”

  He looked relieved. “Yes, I can do that!”

  “Ooh, a ride!” Buttermouse squeaked. “I’ve never been in a truck before. Or a car. Or a plane. Or a helicopter. Or . . .”

  Wagging his many tails, Kermit jumped first into the cab of the truck. “Can you roll the window down so I can stick my head out?”

  “Only until we reach the road,” Aunt Alecia said.

  Settling into the trailer with Pipsqueak, Zoe petted the cat between her ears, the way she liked. Pipsqueak began to purr as the truck lurched forward, the entire trailer rattling as they drove. Zoe got a glimpse of trees and sky through the narrow windows at the top. At least if I can’t see out, no one can see in.

  “What do you think my parents will say?” Zoe asked.

  Pipsqueak stuck her broad tongue out and licked a stray tuft of fur on her leg. “I think they’ll say, ‘Wow, that’s a big cat.’”

  Zoe laughed and then felt like crying. “Pipsqueak . . .”

  “I know.”

  Zoe nestled herself in against the fluff of Pipsqueak’s shoulder as the trailer bumped over the terrain. Pipsqueak curled around her.

  They talked about everything and nothing. Zoe cried. Pipsqueak licked her hair. They planned visits, as many as Zoe’s parents would allow, to Sanctuary. This wasn’t a permanent goodbye. Just . . . a change.

  Pulling out her phone, Zoe turned it on and checked the battery: one percent. Just enough for a final text. She sent it to Surita: “Coming home. All of us.”

  She just wished they were all coming home to stay.

  * * *

  Several hours later, after one stop by a secluded forest spot for a bathroom break, Zoe felt the trailer lurch to a halt and heard the engine shut off. She elbowed Pipsqueak. “I think we’re here.”

  Pipsqueak yawned, bumped her head on the roof of the trailer, and then hissed. “Not asleep. Awake the whole time.”

  Zoe grinned. “Sure you were. Stay here until the coast is clear, then hide in the backyard, okay?” She unlatched the trailer door and pushed it open. Motioning for the cat to stay behind her, she peeked outside. It was dusk, and her parents’ cars and Harrison’s parents’ cars were in their respective driveways.

  Aunt Alecia had parked on the street in front of Harrison’s house, and Surita—who must have been watching for them—rushed out.

  As Harrison climbed out of the front of the truck, Surita grabbed him in a half hug, half shake. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

  “Sorry!”

  “But you made it!” She hugged him again without any shaking. “Knew you could do it. Or hoped yo
u could. Or . . . Anyway, Grandma would be proud.”

  “Thanks,” Harrison said, hugging her back. “Yeah, I think she would have been. Even made her famous s’mores.”

  “You cut it close, though. Another hour, and your parents would have quit believing my excuses and called the police,” Surita scolded him. “Don’t ever make me lie like that for you again!”

  “Are they mad?” Harrison asked.

  “Not yet. I told them that you and Zoe were getting a ride home with a friend. They’re not thrilled you didn’t call or text to ask permission, but they haven’t guessed the truth. You may have gotten away with this, thanks to me,” Surita said. “Did you at least find what you were looking for?”

  “Well, we found Zoe’s aunt, plus a portal to a magical dimension,” Harrison said. “So yeah, I’d say we did.” He shot a grin at Zoe, but she couldn’t grin back. Soon Pipsqueak would be returning through that portal. She tried, again, to remind herself it was for the best.

  Surita let out a whoop. “I knew it! Well, I didn’t know it, but it was a possibility. What’s it like? Did you see it? Was it amazing?”

  Going back to the truck, Harrison opened the door, revealing Kermit to Surita. “This is Kermit the Dog,” Harrison said. “I think he’ll get along with Fibonacci. I promised to introduce them.”

  “Whoa . . . he’s very green.”

  “It’s not easy being green,” Harrison agreed.

  “And those are a lot of teeth.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kermit said. “I’m friendly!”

  Eyes wide, Surita whispered, “Awesome.”

  “Let me tell my parents I’m home and fine,” Harrison said. “Let Kermit and Fibonacci sniff each other out of sight in the garage, and then we can go to Zoe’s house. We’ll explain everything there. Can you help me make sure no one’s watching while I bring Kermit in?”

  Zoe saw Aunt Alecia peek at them in the side-view mirror of the truck. She didn’t look like she’d changed her mind about not talking to Mom, but Zoe couldn’t wait to go in and see her family, even if they were furious with her. She broke into a jog, reaching the front door at the same time as it opened.