The First Nine Lives of Isabella LaFelini

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The First Nine Lives of Isabella LaFelini Page 3

by Harvey, Rhonda


  “Cat nap?” Ty interrupted with a wide grin and burst into laughter.

  “Ha, ha, very funny,” she retorted, but she still stretched out on the blanket they’d brought from home. “Just let me sleep a few minutes, Ty,” she said with another yawn. “Just a few…”

  Ty reached into the cooler for another sandwich and opened the folder he had brought filled with printouts from various websites on Edward Teach, a.k.a. Edward Thatch, a.k.a. Blackbeard the pirate. He munched and read until he felt sleepy. Just a few minutes, his thoughts echoed Isabella’s request. Just a few minutes. And he fell asleep, too.

  “Hey, wake up,” Isabella told him. “I thought I was the one who was going to take a cat nap.” She poked him.

  “Five more minutes, Mom…and then I’ll get up for school,” he mumbled.

  Isabella laughed. “Um, I’m not your mom, dude!” and shook Ty’s shoulder.

  Ty mumbled something she didn’t quite hear and stretched, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry, I was up late,” he said between yawns, “researching your pirate grandfather.”

  “Great-great-great-great-great grandfather,” she corrected. “Ty…how does this look?”

  He opened his eyes. Standing before him was the girl Isabella, dressed in her pajama shorts, which could have passed as street clothes. “Um…you look great. When…when did it happen?”

  Isabella grinned. “You’re the researcher. When do you think?”

  “While you were sleeping?”

  “Yup! You know, I was thinkin’. Ty, maybe being a cat could work for us.”

  “Work for us? What’dya mean?”

  “Well, I haven’t said anything about this before, but things are different when I’m a cat.”

  “Well, duh, Isabella. I figured they would be.”

  “Ty! Let me tell you, would ya? What I mean by different is that things are…I dunno how to explain it…um…sharper. Yeah, sharper. I can see farther. I can hear better. I can smell better. I have a better balance. I just can sense things better. I think I’m a better cat than I am a girl. I’ll bet as a cat I’d be a great student…” She laughed a little. “Imagine, Ty. Little cat me sitting in English class! Mrs. Tewksbury would have a cow!”

  “Um, no more animals, k?”

  “I said she’d have a cow—not become one! And anyway, no more Mrs. Tewksbury, anyway. At least we can look forward to that at Northside! Although with your luck, she’ll move up to ninth grade!” Isabella imitated their teacher’s nasal voice perfectly, “Mr. Briggs, you must be able to tell me more!” And they continued laughing for a few minutes before settling in to read the information Ty had on Blackbeard.

  “SO, I ASKED you before. Do you think that anyone else in your family has been a cat?” he asked her when they had finished two hours later.

  Isabella shrugged. “Dunno. You think the family would know? You think they’d talk about it? Send photos at Christmas? Here’s little Johnny during his kitten stage?” She laughed a little, then sighed. “I don’t know, Ty. Mom said that the curse was on the LaFelini family. So, I guess it makes sense that someone besides me would have experienced this.”

  Ty nodded. “Yeah, I guess. It’s too bad no one would talk about it, though; it would be a great source of information.”

  “Ty, if we aren’t able to find out before Nonna Rose gets back from Italy, I know she’ll have answers. I know she will,” Isabella said with forced conviction as she twisted the thin gold ring on her little finger.

  As he watched her, Ty wasn’t completely satisfied that Isabella really believed that Nonna Rose could help. It had to be scary—not knowing when or why she would transform into a cat again. He opened up his notebook again. “Isabella, I want you to tell me exactly what you were doing both times before…um…before you went all furry. It’s not enough to know you were sleeping—what were you doing before you went to sleep? Try to remember with as many details as you can. It might help us narrow our focus. Can you remember?”

  Isabella sighed heavily. “Ty, I told you—I was sleeping. I don’t know what I was doing before I fell asleep.”

  “Think, Isabella. Think. Were you eating the same thing both times? Or wearing the same thing? Or…”

  “Ty, I told you. I don’t know.” Seeing the disappointment on his face, she decided she’d try harder to remember. “Well, the first time was during a nap on the sun porch. The second time, I had eaten breakfast, but I’m pretty sure I had cereal. It was about nine-thirty, I think, when I got sleepy and went to read for a while on the sun porch. Next thing I knew, I woke up craving tuna!”

  “What were you wearing?” Ty asked as he wrote down her previous answers.

  “I don’t remember. No, wait, I do. Shorts. Jeans shorts. That and my American Rockers t-shirt. But the second time, like this morning, I was wearing pajamas. The ones I’m wearing right now.” She frowned. “So, not the same. Sorry.”

  “What about shoes? Were you wearing the same shoes?”

  Isabella shook her head, and her long red hair swished from one side to the other as she did. “Nope. Barefoot. Both times.”

  “Barefoot? Maybe there’s something in your carpet or flooring or something.”

  “Carpet? Ty, wouldn’t my mom have turned into a cat by now, too?”

  “Maybe she has—you think she would have told you? You haven’t told her.”

  Isabella groaned. “Well, that’s true enough.” She bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. “Hey, I just remembered. My mother is only a LaFelini by marriage. So I don’t think it would affect her, anyway…”

  Ty grinned and his teeth were bright white in contrast with his dark skin. “Now you’re thinking. We’ll have to check out the carpet and the flooring. Maybe there is something to it. You never know, right? It’s worth looking into. What else? What about food? Did you eat the same thing?”

  “Nope. I already told you—I had a bagel the morning of the dream, but that probably doesn’t even count. I think I had cereal the first time, and I didn’t even eat breakfast this morning. Pepperoni pizza for dinner last night. Bowl of rocky road before bed. Sorry. I don’t seem to be much help, huh?” Isabella kicked at the water, uprooting several pebbles, a broken clamshell and sending a little school of fish into the deep. “Those little guys are lucky,” she indicated the fish, “that I’m my human self and not my cat self. They wouldn’t have had a chance!” She grinned evilly at Ty, who just shook his head and started to pack up for the walk home.

  “I guess it’s good that you can joke about it,” Ty told her on the way home. “I guess it’s a lot better than crying about it.”

  Isabella bit at her thumb’s cuticle. “Well, Ty, to tell you the truth, I did that, too. That first night, I cried myself to sleep. It still is scary—I gotta admit, but it’s also kinda cool, I guess. I mean, Ty, imagine. If I could control this…I could do all kinds of things. Spy on people. Get into ‘R’ rated movies. Hey! We could open a detective agency. You could keep the notes, and I could work the cases…”

  “Yeah, we could do that—when we weren’t going to classes—we’re freshmen next year, remember? I could see it now—algebra by day, ‘Cat Spies’ by night!”

  Isabella slugged him playfully. “Great. Nice. Make fun of me. Admit it, Ty, I am trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

  Ty had to agree. “You’re better at this than I’d be, Isabella. Really. You’re strong. You’re a survivor. I know that no matter what happens here, you’ll be fine.”

  Isabella smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Ty. Appreciate it. You’re such a good friend.” She hugged him close, then awkwardly stepped back. “I mean, for a guy!” and she punched his arm. Phew, Isabella! she told herself. What are you, nuts? That’s Ty! Your buddy, Ty. What the heck are you doing hugging him? She didn’t know that at that very moment, Ty was thinking the same thing.

  The awkward silence continued for most of the walk home. Isabella, why on earth did you hug him like that? She berated herself under her breat
h. He’s a friend. A friend. Not a boyfriend. This is Ty, for crying out loud. Ty!

  “So, what do you think?” Ty asked her, snapping her out of her self-flagellation.

  “What? Huh? Sorry, Ty, I guess I was someplace else. What did you say?” she asked him in an effort to clear her head.

  “I asked you if you thought your mom would be home now or if we could go look at the carpet, Isabella. Are you okay? You don’t look so good…”

  She shook her head. “I’m all right. I just have a headache, Ty. That’s one thing you should write down. Headaches. I had one after the first transformation, too. Mom works until nine, I think. She’s working that weird shift-and-a-half thing. What do you think we’ll find in the carpet?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno, Isabella. It’s just an idea…I mean this whole thing is so weird. I’m just trying to help…” he finished lamely.

  “I know you are. And I appreciate it. I do. You’re a good friend.”

  Ouch. Ty recoiled as if he’d been slapped, but he worked to keep his voice steady. “Yep, that’s who I am. The best buddy.” He quickly changed the subject, “You know what I was thinking—what happens to your clothes and jewelry and stuff? I mean, you’re not a cat in clothing. You’re just a furry cat. No clothes. No shoes. But when you’re back to being yourself, you have the clothes, shoes, jewelry. It’s kinda weird.”

  “I don’t know. I told you that!” Frustrated, she was short with him. “Ty, you keep trying to get me to tell you things I just don’t know.”

  “You know what? Never mind. Forget it. I mean it, never mind. I’m done. You can turn into a cat and stay a cat for all I care.” And with that, he broke away from Isabella and headed toward home.

  Five: A New Kind of Trouble

  “TY, PLEASE PICK up.” Isabella sighed. She had tried calling Ty for hours—both on his cell and on the house phone, but he never picked up.

  On what had to have been her tenth attempt, Ty’s mother answered. “Sorry, Isabella, he’s not home. I think he’s cutting grass. Not sure where, though. Did you try his cell phone?”

  “Yeah, I did. Thanks, anyway, Mrs. Briggs.” Isabella sighed. “Have him call me if you see him, though, okay?”

  “Sure will, sweetheart. Take care.”

  Isabella hung up the phone and was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of tiredness. No! I will not go to sleep—not now! I don’t…want…to…sleep…yawn! No! She tried to fight it. If I fall asleep, I might …I could…I don’t want to transform again. Not now. Please! All her pleading was in vain, because within seconds, she was sound asleep.

  When she awoke, Isabella found that what she had feared had come true. She had transformed in her sleep again. Argh! she told herself. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I hate this crap! What am I supposed to do now? Where’s Ty when I need him? Need him? Isabella hated to admit it, but she needed help—she needed Ty. He may not want to speak to me, but I’m still going to go try to find Ty. She leapt from the chair, pushed open the sun porch door and went off to find her friend.

  Isabella had gone about two blocks down Craven Street when she suddenly felt her fur bristle. Oh, oh, she thought. Something bad is about to happen—something really bad. Her ears pricked up in anticipation. Isabella turned to see two loose Dobermans heading toward her. Oh, my God! I’ve got to get out of here! She began to run as fast as she could, and so did the dogs, barking as they did.

  Suddenly, one was in front of her—the other behind her. Now what do I do? She felt her back arch, and a deep, low growl formed in her throat. As her fur bristled, Isabella felt her heart start beating faster. She felt her claws withdraw from their sheaths—she was getting ready for the fight of her life.

  The smaller dog hung back a bit while the larger one moved menacingly toward her. She hissed at him and reached out as far as she could, cuffing him with an open paw.

  Contact! The dog yelped as Isabella’s claws tore into the sensitive flesh of his nose. Unfortunately for her, though, instead of backing away from Isabella, the Doberman lunged closer.

  Isabella looked up into his snarling face, his fangs frothing with drool. Just as his jaws snapped at her, just as Isabella saw her life flashing before her, suddenly Ty was there.

  “Isabella?! You!” he said to the dogs, “Get out of here!” he swung a large stick in the direction of the larger dog, and the two dogs took off together. He looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

  Isabella, who still had adrenaline coursing through her system, could barely speak. “I…um…I…I th-think so.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Oh, Ty, I have never been so glad to see anyone!”

  “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I was here. See ya around,” he said and started to walk away.

  “Ty!” she called after him in her little cat voice. “Please. I’m sorry. I’m just really frustrated, you know? I shouldn’t have taken it out on you…”

  Ty turned around. “No, you’re right. You shouldn’t have. But you did. You always do, Isabella. I don’t know why, but you do! You always do!” He turned away from her.

  His feelings were hurt! I hurt his feelings! Isabella suddenly realized. “Ty, I’m sorry. Really sorry. Really, Tyson. Please forgive me.” She glanced around. “Um, would you…” she couldn’t believe what she was about to say, “could you pick me up?”

  “Why?” Ty’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You wanna scratch my eyes out or something?”

  “No,” Isabella said quietly, “but the lady in the yard of that brick house over there is watching you like you’re crazy.”

  Ty spun around, then turned back to Isabella. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!” he said too loudly. “Come here, girl.” He bent to pick her up. “Nice kitty,” he said, rubbing her ears.

  The woman was apparently satisfied, and she returned to her plants. “That was good,” Isabella told him, “But was the ear scratching really necessary?”

  Ty laughed, and apparently they were now even. “Come on, ‘kitty’,” he told her, “let’s go home!”

  Isabella thought about asking him to put her down, and then she realized that there was something nice about riding nestled in his arms. She felt comfortable. She felt protected. In Ty’s arms, Isabella felt safe.

  “So,” he bent to put her down when they were no longer in view of the brick house, “do you want me to come to your house to check out the carpet now?”

  “Um, Ty, could you pick me back up?” she asked, a little embarrassed.

  “Uh, sure, Isabella, but why? We aren’t where that lady can see us…”

  “I’m…I’m really tired,” she told him, “and if I fall asleep here on the street…”

  Ty laughed as he scooped her back up. “Yeah, that might not be cool…”

  “Ty, before…before it happened this time, I was on the phone. Calling you. Actually, I was talking to your mother. I felt so sleepy all of a sudden. I didn’t want to fall asleep because…because I knew what would happen…”

  “Isabella, that’s great! At least now we know that sleep brings it on. If only we knew what triggered the sleep…Wait! Were you barefoot on the rug? On the sun porch?”

  Isabella let out a little sigh that sounded too much like a purr. “No, Ty. I actually had my pink flip-flops on. Sorry. Guess that blows the carpet theory. Any other ideas?”

  Ty shook his head. “No, sorry, Isabella. I felt certain that the carpet might have been the thing…what else can you remember? Anything?”

  “No, not really. I had been calling you. You weren’t picking up,” she realized she sounded accusatory and softened her voice as she continued, “I was talking to your mom when I got really sleepy. That’s all, sorry.”

  “I wish I knew what was causing this, Isabella,” he sounded as frustrated as she felt. “I’ve thought about it and thought about it, but I just can’t figure this out!”

  “Ty, we’d better hurry. I’m about to pass out here in your arms…” and just like that she was asleep.

  Ty quick
ened his steps, and soon they were at Isabella’s house. He knew where the spare key was kept, and he quickly located the hide-a-key garden stone. He extracted the key and then let them into the house where he made his way to Isabella’s bedroom. He put the sleeping cat on the bed and went to the kitchen to find something to eat in the drawer where Mrs. LaFelini always kept snacks. He pulled out a package of twin chocolate cakes filled with sweet white icing, opened the cupboard and found a glass, which he filled with cold milk.

  “Good to see that you took my ‘make yourself at home’ advice to heart, Ty,” Luci LaFelini told him as she walked into the kitchen.

  Ty nearly choked on his snack cake. “Um, hi, Mrs. LaFelini. How are you? I didn’t hear your car…”

  “Hi, Ty. Parked out at the street—I only have a few minutes. Where’s that crazy daughter of mine?”

  “Um…she’s,” Think, Ty, think! he told himself. “Isabella is…”

  “I’m right here, Mom,” Isabella called, walking out from her room, pulling her long red hair up into a ponytail. “What’re you doing home? Are you done early today?”

  Ty breathed a big sigh of relief. “Hey, Isabella—are these the cakes you were talking about?”

  Isabella took the untouched one from his hand and stuffed it in her mouth. “Uh huh. Where’s my glass of milk, Ty?” she asked, spraying chocolate crumbs as she did.

  Her mother was too busy answering to notice the dirty look Ty shot her. “No, honey, I just came home to get that recipe for Diana Klein. She’s having a big party this weekend, and I promised her my cheesecake bars recipe. You two having fun?”

  “Eh, not really. I thought you didn’t share that recipe with anyone?”

  Luci laughed a little. “Yes, that’s usually true, but Diana has been really nice to me. I got the job at the hospital because of her. So…I’m going to break my rules this once. Of course, I made her promise she wouldn’t share it with anyone else! I’ve got to get back to work—you guys be good, okay?” She rubbed her nose. “Ugh, my allergies are really acting up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that we had a cat around here! Ugh!” She rubbed her nose again.

 

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