by Patricia Fry
“Well, there are some unanswered questions, that’s for sure,” Savannah said. “Is that what you mean?”
He thought before responding. “Yeah, I guess. But maybe there’s more to it than even the lawyers and prosecutors are aware of or have considered.”
Ruth smiled and squeezed Arthur’s arm. “Oh, Artie, you are such a thinker.”
“Yes, and Ms. Rochelle is teaching me to relax my mind a little and stop thinking everything to death. That’s part of my work with her and it does seem to be helping. You all notice I didn’t go berserk when I saw my picture in this paper. It wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be. Like you tell me, sometimes, Ruthie, ‘Worry is a waste of time because the outcome we fear most probably isn’t as bad as we imagine it will be.’”
“Yes, I have said something like that before.”
“Did I paraphrase you?”
She nodded and smiled.
“What about breakfast?” Michael asked. “Is anyone else hungry?”
“Oh yes,” Savannah said, jumping up out of her chair. “Sorry about that. I almost forgot my morning chores.” She opened the oven, pulled out a pan of cinnamon buns and an egg-and-ham casserole that had been warming. “…Not!” she said, laughing.
“You are one amazing woman, you know it?” Michael said.
“Yum!” Arthur said when Savannah placed the feast on the table in front of him.
“I’ll set the table,” Ruth offered. “Will you join us, Maggie?”
“Sure,” Margaret said with enthusiasm.
Once everyone was served, Savannah looked over at Arthur. “That was our friend Colbi on the phone a few minutes ago. She’s a reporter for the local newspaper. She’d like to interview you. I told her I’d ask.”
Arthur set his roll down and took a sip of cocoa. He looked at Savannah. “Uh, I don’t know what I have to say.”
“Oh, Artie,” Ruth chuckled. “I’ve never seen this happen before.”
“What?” he asked.
“You being at a loss for words.”
He grinned affectionately at her.
“It’s totally up to you, Arthur,” Savannah said. “I told Colbi that you are reluctant to be in the limelight and she suggested that maybe you’d like to come out to her place and meet her kitty Dolly and some of the feral cats she feeds. She can tell you some of her questions and you can decide whether or not you want to talk to her. She’ll completely honor your decision. I think she’d like to do a story about your life—what it was like living the way you did for all those years. She was talking about making it a series and warned that it could be picked up by the Associated Press.”
Arthur frowned. “What does that mean?”
“That it could go…well, like viral.”
Arthur picked at what was left of his egg casserole with his fork. He set the fork down and said, quietly, “I have a journal.”
“You do?” Ruth asked, her eyebrows raised. “I did not know that.”
He smirked playfully at her. “A journal is supposed to be private—a secret.” He continued, “I always thought I might get a chance to tell my story. It’s probably kind of boring—it was a boring life.”
Savannah looked serious. “I imagine she’d like to hear about your emotional, physical, and mental reaction to your lifestyle—your thoughts, your dreams…”
“Yeah, that’s what’s in my journal.” He thought for a moment. “This Colbi, is she a friend of yours?”
Savannah nodded. “Yes, a good friend.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Then you want to meet Colbi?”
“Yes, and see her cats, of course,” he said.
Savannah smiled and winked. “Of course.”
****
Later that morning, Savannah drove Arthur to Colbi’s home. The boy sat silently, holding his journal in both hands as he stared out the car window. When Savannah pulled into Colbi’s long driveway, Arthur leaned forward. “Cats!” he said, excitedly. “I saw some of them scatter; most of them went under the porch there.” He turned to Savannah. “How many does she have? And why are they running loose like that?”
“They’re feral.”
“Your aunt has feral cats in cages,” he reminded her.
Savannah thought for a moment, then said, “There were feral cats around the mansion.”
“Oh yes.”
“Did you ever take any of those inside? I mean, I know you caught some of your own cats that had been turned loose, but did you ever try to work with one that had gone…wild?”
“A couple of times,” he said.
“How did it go?”
“Disastrous.” He thought for a moment. “I guess there are some wild cats you can tame and some that you can’t.”
“That’s right, Arthur. I think we’ve all learned lessons about trying to tame a cat that doesn’t want to be domesticated.”
“I don’t think it’s a matter of not wanting to,” Arthur said, thoughtfully. “I can see in their eyes that they want to be loved and cared for, but they don’t know how—they don’t know any other way. Their fear gets in the way.”
Savannah turned off the ignition and peered at the boy. “Arthur, you are just too much,” she said, smiling.
“What?” he asked frowning.
“You’re wise beyond your years—do you know that?” she said.
“Uh, well, I guess…no. I…”
“Well, you are…in many ways. Like Ruth says, you’re a thinker, Arthur. The world needs more thinkers. Too many people today just act—like when they hit someone with their car and run away, for example.”
Arthur sat silently for a moment, staring out the car window. “Do you mean there may be a place for me in society?”
“Oh Arthur, absolutely,” Savannah said. “Why would you think otherwise?”
He tightened his grip on the journal and said quietly, “Sometimes I just don’t think I’ll ever fit in.” Arthur took a deep breath, opened the car door, and stepped out.
Savannah sat watching him for a moment, then she exited the car and caught up with him. They walked together toward the old two-story home Colbi had inherited when her father died a couple of years earlier.
“Hi girlfriend,” Savannah greeted when she saw Colbi step out onto the porch. “Hey, no more rickety stairs,” she said, taking the few steps boldly.
Colbi reached out and hugged Savannah. “Nope, Damon has done a lot of work around here. Good to see you. I’ve missed you,” she said. “I saw your baby daughter a while back, but you, I’ve missed seeing.”
“I know—me, too. Thanks for taking time out for Lily when I was gone, by the way.” Savannah then turned toward her companion. “Colbi, I’d like you to meet our good friend Arthur Spence. Arthur, this is Colbi Stanton.”
“Hi,” he said shyly. He held out his hand.
“Hello Arthur,” Colbi said shaking his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.” When she noticed him glancing around the yard, she suggested, “Would you like to see some of the feral cats before we go inside?”
“Sure would,” he said. “I have a lot of questions about them.”
Savannah chuckled. “He’s a sponge—wants to know about everything.”
“My kind of guy,” Colbi said, taking his arm. “Want to leave your book here while we tour the place?”
“Oh, okay,” he said, carefully placing it on the porch railing.
Just then, the screen door opened and Colbi’s boyfriend and co-worker at the newspaper office stepped out. “Hi, Savannah,” he said, reaching for a hug.
“Hi there,” she greeted. She smiled warmly and said, “Meet Arthur Spence—Arthur, this is Damon Jackson, Iris’s son.”
Arthur cocked his head and looked at Damon. “Oh? I didn’t know she had children—especially one as old as…”
“Yeah, she’s a young-looking mom.” Damon laughed. “Sometimes when we’re having lunch together, people think she’
s my date.”
“Really?” Savannah said. “I’ll bet she loves that.”
“Oh yes,” Damon said, rolling his eyes. He shook hands with Arthur. “Real nice to meet you, guy.” He looked at Colbi. “Where are we going?”
“On a tour to meet the outdoor cats.”
“Oh,” he said, trailing along with the others.
“Where did they come from?” Arthur asked Colbi.
“Who knows?” she said, laughing. She pointed. “I think there might have been a cat colony in that ravine over there.” She faced Arthur. “Some of these cats were probably abandoned by homeowners who moved away or they were chased away when their owners brought in a dog. I know of one mother cat who left with her litter of kittens when the homeowner had people in to remodel their kitchen. Those that aren’t spayed or neutered continue to have kittens and the colony grows.”
Arthur glanced around the property as Colbi continued, “They had probably been coming over here to sleep under my porch at night long before I noticed them. Once I started feeding them…well, you know how that goes…”
Arthur nodded. “Yes, they go where the food and shelter are. Cats are smart.”
“Yes,” she said. “Most of these kitties are spayed and neutered; we still have a few left to trap.”
“How many are there?” he asked.
“At last count, thirteen.”
“That’s how many I have…I mean I used to have.”
“Where are they now?” Colbi asked.
“Ms. Maggie and Max and some other kind people are finding them homes—with children, I hope. I have one cat of my own—Koko, a Siamese.”
“She and Rags are great friends,” Savannah said.
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s staying at Savannah’s and Michael’s with me. You could come over and meet her if you want.”
“Sure,” Colbi said. “I’d like that.”
After the group had walked around the yard with Colbi and Damon pointing out various areas where the cats played, slept, and ate, Colbi said, “If we sit still here on the porch, some of them will come out.” She pointed. “Oh, there’s Blinky. See him peeking at you from that bush over there?”
“Yes, he looks like my Blackie,” he said. “Hey, there’s a Siamese like Koko and what is that over there—an orange tabby?”
Colbi nodded. “Yes, that’s Samantha. She will almost eat treats out of my hand.”
“How can she almost eat treats out of your hand?” Damon asked, laughing.
“Well, smarty-pants, she comes closer and closer to me when I feed her treats. Another week and she might be eating out of my hand.”
“Like you do, Damon,” Savannah said, laughing.
He grinned at her playfully.
Arthur glanced up at Savannah and Damon and then addressed Colbi. “That’s nice of you to take care of the unwanted cats. Max told me there are millions of cats nobody wants anymore.”
“Yeah, something like fifty million,” Damon said, sullenly.
“You like cats, too?” Arthur asked him.
“Yes, I do,” he said. He glanced at Colbi and Savannah. “But I didn’t always.”
“Why?” Arthur asked. “What made you change your mind?”
“Well, I got to know a cat and found out they’re really special creatures.” He made eye contact with Arthur and asked, “Hey, are you a journalist?”
“Me?” Arthur said. He shook his head. “Oh no. Not me.”
“Well, you could be,” Damon said. “You ask good questions. You have a curious mind.”
Arthur chuckled. “It’s called being nosey.” He turned to Colbi. “You have some questions for me?”
She nodded. “Would you like to come in and meet a formerly feral kitty? Then we can do an interview, if you want to.”
Arthur nodded and followed the others into the house.
“There she is on top of the fridge,” Damon said. “Come on, little one,” he coaxed. Once he had his hands on the fluffy light-grey-and-white tabby, he carried her into the living room and placed her on the sofa. “This is Arthur,” Damon said to the cat. “Arthur, this is Dolly.”
“Hi, Dolly,” he said, stooping over to entice her. “She’s pretty. She used to live outside?”
“Yes, until she got sick,” Colbi said. “Damon had to take care of her and she decided she liked being a pet.”
“Yeah,” Damon said, “so she left her former life behind.”
“Lucky girl,” Arthur said, reaching out and petting her in long strokes.
Dolly rubbed against his hand and then sat down and stared up at him. Suddenly, she jumped off the sofa and darted up the stairs. Before everyone was seated in the living room, Dolly appeared at the top of the narrow staircase.
“What’s that she has?” Arthur asked.
Damon and Colbi looked. “One of her toys,” he said. “…her little furry mouse, I think.”
Everyone watched as Dolly stepped down the stairs, walked straight to where Arthur stood, and dropped the toy at his feet.
“Wow!” Savannah said. “I think she likes you. She brought you a gift.”
Arthur looked suspiciously at Colbi and asked, “Has she been hanging around Rags?”
“I’m afraid so,” Colbi said, laughing. “She stayed there with us for a week once when she was much younger.”
“Rags is teaching Koko how to steal things. She took one of Lily’s toys right in front of us the other day.”
Everyone laughed.
“Please sit down,” Colbi said, motioning around the living room.
Arthur picked up the toy and lowered himself onto a large blue-grey corduroy sofa. He then tossed the toy for Dolly and the cat raced after it. She took it in her mouth, dropped it a short distance from Arthur, and sat looking up at him.
“Here, I’ll get it,” Damon said, walking over and snagging the toy. He handed it to Arthur and suggested, “Toss it up in the air; she’s quite the jumper.”
Arthur complied and everyone whooped when Dolly leaped and twisted to grab the toy in mid-air, expertly landing on all four paws.
“Wow!” Arthur exclaimed. “She really can jump.” He tossed the toy a few more times and the energetic cat continued to entertain the willing group.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Colbi asked. “Tea, coffee, soda, I made lemonade.”
“Lemonade sounds lovely,” Savannah said. “Let me help.”
“Yes, lemonade,” Arthur said. “Thank you.”
“Me, too,” Damon agreed.
After the beverage was served, Damon peered over at Arthur, his voice soft, “Arthur, I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I was locked up because I’d done something wrong. I deserved to be locked away. But I can’t imagine what it’s like to be held against your will when you’re innocent—you didn’t do anything wrong.”
When Arthur continued to focus on Dolly, Colbi said quietly, “I can.”
That got Arthur’s attention. He looked at her. “You can?” he asked.
She nodded. “I was abducted…”
“By alien beings…” Damon joked.
“Damon,” she snapped playfully.
“What happened?” Arthur asked.
“Oh, some crazy, evil, cat-hoarders grabbed me one night and tossed me into a dank, dark, cold basement for several days and then tried to burn the house down around me.”
He stared at her for a moment. “It must have been horrible. How did you get out…” he asked “…without any burns, even?”
“Damon found me,” she said quietly, “just in time.”
“Yeah, but it was Rags who told us where she was,” Damon added.
“Really? Oh wait,” Arthur said, excitedly, “I remember seeing that in the documentary.” He squinted in Damon’s direction. “And he put you in jail, right?”
Damon thinned his lips and nodded. He then said,
“Well, he had a hand…or a paw…in it, but of course, I’m the one who did the crime.”
“And you still like cats?”
Damon shook his head and scowled. “Not then, I didn’t. I hated cats.” He reached down and picked up Dolly, who let him cradle her in his arms for a few moments before squirming away and running up the stairs. “This little one straightened out my thinking.”
“I’ve always liked cats,” Arthur said. “So did my little sister Karen.” He looked at Colbi and then Damon. “I kept a journal.” He picked it up off the coffee table and held it close for a moment. He then said, “You might like to read it to help you write my story.”
Colbi’s eyes grew wide. “You would trust us to read your private journal?”
He nodded somberly. “I want my story told—the truth. I trust you,” he said to Colbi. He glanced at Damon.
“I’m touched,” Colbi said. “Can I keep this here for a few days?”
Arthur nodded.
“Let’s do the interview after I read it. Then I’ll know what questions to ask. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Arthur agreed.
****
Around mid-afternoon, the Iveys and their guests enjoyed an early dinner of grilled hamburgers, chili beans, and Ruth’s potato salad. Savannah had made a peach pie, but since no one had room for it, they decided to eat it for breakfast the next day. Once the two women had straightened the kitchen, they joined Michael and Arthur on the porch, where the fellows had been entertaining Lily. Michael soon excused himself and the others sat watching the baby play with a musical toy. After a while, Arthur said, “Savannah, before I took my journal to Ms. Colbi, I read the first part of it. You know that thing that’s been nagging at me?”
She nodded.
“I think I dreamed about it last night.” He hesitated and then said, “Karen and I were children. We were playing in the pool, having a great time, when someone we knew walked up. We weren’t frightened—didn’t have any reason to be—but when the figure appeared in my dream, everything turned black and we suddenly became terrified. Karen was screaming. She screamed and screamed.” Then I woke up.” He wiped at his eyes. “I just wish I could remember.”
