Later on, as the party progressed, Caterwaul could not help himself. He had to take a look. After dropping something “accidentally on purpose,” his eyes moved along the ground to see if she did indeed meet Gerhard’s prerequisite.
Caterwaul looked at his friend and smiled. He made a sign with his paws that Sunny did indeed have very small ankles.
“Uh huh,” Gerhard affirmed. “That’s good breedin’.”
Orris was in a full-on cooking frenzy. It had been years since he had been forced to work this hard. He was constantly blowing the hair from the front of his face and wiping perspiration from his forehead. He’d hired six assistants just to help him with the day’s events and that didn’t include the four-legged ones.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t happy, though. In fact, he was ecstatic, glad to be back in his element. This was what he’d always loved about working in the castle, the hustle and bustle of a feast in full swing. He was back in his domain, and he had Caterwaul to thank for it.
Out in the great hall, the music flowed like the food coming from the kitchen. Joffrey and his two beaver friends pulled off a near miracle. Everything was going perfectly. The stage the beavers built was magnificent, and the band had plenty of opportunity to rehearse before the guests started arriving. Of course, the whole general layout of the hall was especially well done, and for that, Caterwaul wanted to personally congratulate the turtle.
The new lord finally found him standing in a corner to the right of the stage. Joffrey had finally given up his search for Carlos and was now deep in a discussion concerning the comparative merits of turtle claws versus cat claws when carving fine furniture. His foil in the discussion? Who else but young Feliz, he of the massively magnificent hand skewers?
“You should come to visit me in the forest sssome time,” the turtle said, “Almost everything in my home is hand carved . . . by me, of course. If you have a chance to sssee what I’ve done, I think you’ll be impressed; the detail is amazing.”
When they saw Caterwaul coming toward them, they stiffened to a sort of lazy attention. It was obvious that both cat and turtle had overindulged in the castle’s hospitality.
“Joffrey,” Caterwaul called toward them. “Just the turtle I’ve been looking for.”
The man-sized snapper wasn’t sure what was going on. Had he done something wrong? He was certain he had followed protocol. But had he mistakenly done something inappropriate? He wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure, it was true, but he was fairly confident he hadn’t accidently disemboweled any of tonight’s party guests.
Joffrey moved toward him with his head down, hoping he hadn’t given any offense.
“Joffrey, I just wanted to say that you and your crew have done a fantastic job organizing things for tonight’s event. I could really use a reptile of your abilities here at the castle and was wondering if you might like to work for me full-time?”
Coy and Huxley were on a mission. They were looking for a ladder. Only hours ago, the place was crawling with workers, and Coy himself counted at least ten ladders in various parts of the castle. But now, there wasn’t a single one anywhere to be found.
The little cat was frustrated. “With all of this new construction, you’d think there would be plenty of ladders around.”
Coy rode on the big dog’s back. The two of them had developed a system where the small kitten could remain aboard even if the hound was moving fast. Right now, the hound was flying through the castle halls. Finally, in one of the sections of the castle furthest from the coronation feast, they spotted a workman. Over his shoulder, he carried the ladder they were looking for.
“Start making as much noise as you can,” the kitten yelled to his fast-moving friend. Huxley added barking and drooling to the racket he was already making as he ran. When the workman turned to see a huge hound running straight toward him, his natural reaction was to drop the ladder and take off. The ladder had a rope attached to it for tying it securely to whatever it was being set against. This was a bonus, as far as Coy was concerned. It would make moving the ladder to the front of the castle much easier.
The kitten tossed the rope over the dog’s broad shoulders and chest. Exiting the building as quickly as possible, Huxley and Coy began moving the ladder around the front.
“Now, Huxley, all we need is some paint,” said the kitten to the hound, laughing.
Inside the great hall, the party was slamming. It was packed from wall to wall, and the music was outstanding. The cats and other guests were eating and drinking, talking, and laughing at jokes. They were singing, dancing, and having a fantastic time all around.
Caterwaul sat on a fluffy pillow of red silk. He was enjoying himself more than words could say. Though it was never something he went looking for, he was definitely enjoying all of the attention. Muse sat on a matching cushion next to him. She was smiling too, delighted.
One by one, or sometimes in pairs, the guests all came forward to offer their respects. None wanted to be left out. It had been many years since the castle had seen an event like this. Every guest in attendance would take with them the hope of the future when they left that night.
Suddenly the music stopped, and the room went silent. Caterwaul heard his name and snapped to attention. From the stage, Frankie the crooner was calling for him. As Caterwaul approached the stage, the crowd parted to make room. Frankie looked classy tonight, even more so than usual. His white fur was groomed perfectly, with the hair on his head combed back slick to show off his eyes. He wore a black tuxedo bow tie around his neck.
“This next song is dedicated to the cat who made all of this possible tonight. Some of you may not know him yet, but everyone here knows what he represents and what he means to this land and the folks living in it. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here with you all tonight. He saved my life.
“So I’m singing this tune for my friend . . . for my companion, for my brother in arms . . . Let’s have a round of applause for the lord of the castle, Sir Caterwaul . . . Who loves you, kitty?” He started clapping, and the room started to shake from all of the applause. “This song’s called ‘I’ve Got a Ball Made of String.’”
Tiny wanted to make a good impression on his boss. It was his first day on the job, but he was determined to prove his worth. Only a few days before, he was working as a grunt for the Felino family, and now he was employed as security at the castle. Talk about your twists of fate. He felt he had to do something big to make people put aside his past.
Still there was no action anywhere near his position. He had been stationed on the third floor of the castle, an area designated off-limits to the partygoers below. Suddenly he heard a loud noise. Running to the window, he saw a ladder being raised and set against the castle wall below him.
In the shadows, he caught sight of a very young cat running along a ledge above the main entrance. The ledge was only about fifteen feet below the window where he now stood. Tiny figured the little cat was up to no good. He could hear the youngster whispering to a co-conspirator on the ground below. If he had heard right, it had something to do with paint.
Minutes later a bucketful of paint and a brush were hoisted up to where the kitten waited. The little fellow set the container safely on the ledge and began moving it along. Tiny watched as he brought his brush up and down repeatedly dragging it against the outer wall of the castle.
He crept out of the window and hanging by his forepaws, dropped to the ledge below. The kitten was so busy laughing at his handiwork that he didn’t notice the much larger cat coming near. On the ground, a dog started barking furiously.
“Got you, you little punk,” Tiny shouted as he grabbed at the smaller cat’s collar. Suddenly they began to fall. Reaching out to stop his descent, the former Felino pulled the paint bucket over with them. They hit the ground with a series of thuds.
Moments later, the doors of the great hall swung open. Standing in the doorway, roaring hysterically were Juan and Feliz. Between them, almost completely cove
red in blue paint, was a dog. Clutched in his mouth, he carried one of the new security recruits, who clutched in his hand a most embarrassed Coy. Like the dog, they were almost entirely blue.
At the sight of this disruption, the band stopped playing and laughter engulfed the hall.
“Your lordship,” said Tiny the security cat, “I caught this kitten up on the roof changing the sign over the door. He was defacing your castle with this paint.”
Caterwaul himself was roaring. Even covered as he was in a coat of thick paint, Caterwaul certainly recognized his friend Coy.
“Thank you for your attention to detail, my new friend. Let’s see what these mischief-makers were up to, shall we?” Caterwaul could barely get the words out, he was laughing so hard.
As Caterwaul and a crowd of his guests moved outside to see what had been done, Juan tapped Huxley on the hind leg to let him know to let go. The dog released Tiny, and Tiny let go of the blue kitten’s collar.
Looking up to the space above the door, Caterwaul could see the lettering above the entrance was changed. The letters “hoon” had been covered up with paint so that the sign over the door now read Cat Castle.
“We wanted to surprise you,” said Coy.
“Oh my word, what a kettle of fish this is. Whoever, even if he lived a hundred million years, coulda seen this coming? The once proud and great Queen Druciah, ruler of all she surveyed, reduced to this . . . a cat . . . and one with no tail no less.”
These were the words of Edsel the Rat, without a doubt the most annoying animal in all of existence. He was beside himself, because now, the evil queen who had made his life a living hell was trapped inside the body of a cat. And to make matters worse, or better, depending on your perspective, it was the body of a cat with no tail.
“Hey Druciah, I got a joke for you. What did the queen say to her tail as it was being chopped off like?” He came running over to where she sat, trying to ignore him. He was careful to stay just out of her reach, however. “She said . . . Manx for the memories.” He started laughing uproariously. “Ya get it? Cause a Manx is a cat that’s got no tail.”
Edsel liked to gloat. Never in his entire rodent existence did he have such an opportunity to gloat as this, to tear into a new addition to the Witch’s family with abandon. He couldn’t get enough. Druciah was about to get a kicking from a shoe which now was firmly on the other foot.
The Witch sat at her small dusty table, pondering her next move. It is good to be able to have a real game again, she thought. She slid her right hand knight up two and then one space to the right. Edsel the Rat sat on the arm of the chair beside her. He was ranting and raving as usual, pointing at the tailless white cat opposite the Witch. Neither the Witch nor her feline opponent paid him much attention.
The Witch was confident that she could either take her opponent’s knight, or if she was really lucky, her left hand bishop. At that moment, a white paw came forward and took the Witch’s knight with hers.
“That’s your problem, Witch,” said the white cat. “Always trying to see the game two and three moves out, sometimes you forget to protect yourself in the here and now.”
The Witch smiled at her from across the table. She was happy to finally have some competition again. She’d missed this for so long. “The game is far from over, my friend. How do you know that I didn’t just draw you into making that last move?” She cackled with delight, as Druciah suddenly got extra serious about analyzing her opponent’s play.
Yes, it is good to have a friend again, thought the Witch of Red Moon Forest. She looked across at the cat as she imagined her next move.
“Well, Druciah,” said the Witch jokingly. “At least you got your beauty back.” She grinned at her opponent, “That’s one in the plus column certainly. We will have to do something about your color, though.”
The Adventures of Caterwaul the Cat Page 19
