Cats in the Belfry

by Patricia Fry

  “Brianna?” Edith asked.

  At that, Brianna turned away and asked for someone to pass the rolls.

  In the meantime, Oma smiled a self-satisfied smile.

  Savannah noticed this and thought, I must remember to ask Brianna what she’s been up to lately. She looked at Oma. And I definitely want to speak to Oma about this.

  “So, Savannah, you want me to…what?” Iris asked.

  After seeing that Edith was discussing with Michael something that had happened at the last steer auction, Savannah spoke quietly to Iris. “Well, Rochelle signed us up for an evening of…um…I don’t know quite what. But we think it will lead to the seminary. We’re trying to find out what’s going on there and we think this person who’s overseeing the evening…” she glanced at Oma, “…maybe it’s Charmaine—will help us to find out. Are you in?”

  Iris looked around, then said, “Sure. Sounds…um…well, interesting. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  ****

  Savannah got her chance to speak to Bud’s grandmother after dinner when Oma stepped outside with a small bucket of vegetable scraps. “Can I go with you?” she asked.

  Oma turned. “Yes, I’m going to feed my rabbits. Bring the little one. She’ll want to pet the bunnies.”

  Savannah found Lily sitting next to Iris and baby Rosemary in the living room and asked, “Hey sweet pea, want to go feed the bunnies some supper?”

  Lily scooted off the sofa and took her mother’s hand. “Bunnies?” she said excitedly.

  Once outside, as Lily handfed lettuce and carrot tops to the rabbits, Savannah said, “I’d really like to hear more about your experience with Charmaine.”

  Oma looked around, then said, “My daughter does not share my fascination for the supernatural.” She put her hand on Savannah’s arm. “But your sister does.”

  “Yes, I remember when you helped her with something I was struggling with before I got pregnant with Lily. It had to do with believing.”

  “Yes. But you did not need an intuitive for that.” She shook her head. “Actually, we all have in us whatever it is we need in order to make our way in this world. Do you believe that, Savannah? We know all that we need to know—it’s just a matter of believing and knowing how to reach the information.” She paused and smiled at Lily as the child delighted in feeding the rabbits. She then leaned toward Savannah and said quietly, “Charmaine is a fake. Now that’s my opinion only, but I’m pretty keen on these things. I sense that your reason for seeing her and playing her little game—it is a game, you know—is for a greater purpose and not in order to feed into her scam.”

  Savannah nodded. “You got that right.”

  “Then go without fear. Nothing will harm you, although she will want you to believe that it could. Fear is her control mechanism.” Oma shook her head. “She’s an odd one and her scheme is kind of entertaining.” She looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Actually, I’ve taken her little trip a couple of times for the entertainment value and,” she stood straighter, “to get material for my blog.” She peered into Savannah’s eyes. “Do you read my blog?”

  “No, I wasn’t aware…” Savannah started.

  She put her hand on Savannah’s arm. “I’ll get you the link. You visit and you’ll learn something about Miss Charmaine before you go on this adventure. For someone like you, who, I assume isn’t a follower of the paranormal, it will be an adventure. Just know there is nothing to fear.”

  “Thank you,” Savannah said. “I appreciate that.”

  Oma stared at Savannah for a moment, then said, “Believe me, there are bona fide mystics and psychics and seers. Me, for example. I have some gifts, but I don’t use them for gain. Some do. And then there are some who do not have it, but fake it.”

  “Wannabes?” Savannah said.

  “Exactly.” Oma looked down at Lily and smiled. “I know things—like I know you are carrying a boy.” She smiled. “And he will be robust and healthy. He will adore his sister and grow into a loving being with a big heart for animals, like his sister.” She squinted up at Savannah, then pointed. “You will do some writing. Do I see you struggling with it? Do not. Your writing is good enough. Just come to terms with the content and its arrangement and the writing will not be troublesome for you.” When she saw Savannah’s puzzled look, she said, “I hope I have not overstepped. Sometimes it just comes out—what I see or sense.”

  “No, that’s fine,” Savannah said. “Actually, you’re right on—I mean about my writing. And I hope about our son.”

  “I’m right,” Oma assured her with a smile. When they heard Lily giggle, Oma asked her, “Want to hold a baby bunny?”

  Lily looked up at her with big eyes and nodded.

  Oma laughed. “She is a wonderful child.” She opened the pen, lifted out a small bunny, and helped Lily hold it in her arms. “Don’t squeeze. No squeezing, now.” She chuckled. “We don’t want to give baby bunny too much love.”

  “Baby bunny,” Lily said. “Look, Mommy, baby bunny.”

  “I see, honey.” Savannah leaned over and stroked the tiny creature. “So cute. Look at him wiggle his little nose.”

  Lily laughed.

  Oma held the bunny up against Lily’s cheek and she giggled. “Bunny tickle me!” she exclaimed.

  Meanwhile, Oma nodded off to the right. “Your sister is struggling.”

  Savannah looked up and saw Brianna showing Colbi and Iris around the garden area. “Struggling?”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t want anyone to know it.” Oma laughed. “She sometimes forgets that I can read her. She’s an easy one to read. She loves my Bud, but she’s torn. I don’t think she embraces his lifestyle.” She shook her head. “He’ll never be a city boy. For him and his father, it’s like wearing a straightjacket. And I don’t know how long it will take Brianna to realize she can fit in here. She hasn’t found her place yet. She thinks she knows what she wants, but Oma knows better.” She continued speaking as if Savannah weren’t there. “Oh, she may go away and search for what she thinks she wants, but she will come back. I just hope…”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “I hope Bud can wait it out.” She chuckled. “He has a live one there and he’ll have to step it up in order to keep her. I think he’s learning that, little by little.” She faced Savannah. “Your Dr. Mike is a good influence. He shows Bud that a man who wants an exciting woman cannot be one-dimensional.”

  Savannah’s eyes widened. “Interesting.”

  Oma took Savannah’s arm. “Well, isn’t that true?”

  After thinking about it, she said, “I guess so. Yes.”

  Oma leaned toward Savannah. “Maybe you could have a little talk with your sister. I sense that she will talk to you.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “But will she listen—that’s another matter, isn’t it?”

  As the women returned to the house with Lily, Oma put her hand on Savannah’s arm and stopped her. “Oh, you will find your lost belongings, but not where you expect. As I said, I see feathers.” She looked off into space for a moment before saying slowly, “Is it a creature or someone dressed as a creature?” She shook her head. “I cannot be sure.”

  ****

  “You’re quiet,” Michael said as he drove his family home later that day. “Something bothering you?”

  Savannah shook her head. “Not really. It was quite a…um…stimulating day.”

  “I saw you deep in conversation with Bud’s grandmother.”

  “Yes. She’s an interesting woman. She gave me a lot to think about.”

  “Oh?”

  When Savannah realized that Michael was fishing for information, she said, “Yeah, just concepts and beliefs and…oh, I don’t know…stuff.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be hearing about it once you sort it all out in your mind, right?”

  She grinned. “Probably.” She faced him. “Oh, she said our baby will be robust, healthy, and he will love his big
sister.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I could have told you that.”

  She smirked playfully at him.

  “What’s his name?” Michael asked.

  “Who?”

  “Our son.”

  “Oh, well, our discussions on that subject haven’t been very successful. You like the strong Nordic names and I’m more fond of Biblical names. But we do agree that a family name would be nice. What was your grandfather’s name—the one you liked so much?”

  “Harry.”

  “Oh,” she said sounding disappointed. “Was that his given name?”

  “No. That’s what he was called. His real name was Horatio.”

  “Ugh. Was there a middle name? Or what about his maternal grandparents’ last name?”

  He thinned his lips. “Oh, let’s see. His middle name started with a V, as I recall. Horatio V. Tilford.” I know that somewhere in the line there was a Calvin. I recall a Simon Lee Calvin.”

  “Gosh, Michael, what a lame bunch of names. I guess we’ll have to look elsewhere for ideas.” After thinking for a moment, however, she said, “Simon. That’s not bad. I kind of like that.”

  “Naw,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I hope we can come up with a name before he gets here.” She stiffened in her seat. “Michael, what if we can’t agree and we bring him home from the hospital without a name?”

  He patted her knee. “Oh hon, that’s not going to happen. We have several weeks now. We’ll agree on a name. Don’t you worry about that.” When he could see that she was brooding, he changed the subject. “Are you ready for your next class? Did you do your writing assignment?”

  “I’ve been working on the beginning of Rags’s book. It seems a little hokey, but then how many ways are there to start a story?” She sighed. “I’ll have a little more time to work on it before the class Wednesday night.” She turned to Michael. “How are you doing in the home-repair class?”

  He frowned. “Well, it’s pretty simplistic. It’s for the beginner, you know. Damon and Max are getting a lot out of it, so I’ll stick it out for them. But I’m pretty well-versed on most of what they’ve presented so far. Oh, I’ve learned a few shortcuts I hadn’t thought of. And there are some techniques coming up that I’m interested in. It’s not a complete wash.”

  “Well, good. I doubt that Damon and Max would go without you.”

  “Probably not.” He chuckled. “I’m sticking with it partly for selfish reasons.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Once they know how to handle simple tasks around their houses, they won’t be calling on me so much.”

  “Yeah, that’s selfish. That would be like me planting fruit trees at Auntie’s, Iris’s, and Colbi’s so we don’t have to share fruit with them.”

  He laughed.

  “Where are you going?” she asked when she noticed he’d turned right instead of left.

  He grinned. “I thought we’d go out to the seminary and see if you’ve caught anything.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you have any traps set this weekend?”

  “I’m not sure. Auntie and Luke are pretty much taking care of that. We have only a handful of cats left to deal with. We’ve sure trapped and caught a lot of them.”

  “I know. I’ve had a lot of patients from out there.”

  “I’ll open the gate,” she said when they got close enough.

  He put the car in park. “Naw, you stay here. I’ll get it.” Once he’d driven inside, he turned to speak to Lily and saw that she was sound asleep. “Someone had a big day.”

  “I guess she did, sweet sleepy baby.”

  He stepped out of the car and stared at the building, then walked around to where he could see the bell tower. “It’s a big place. Looks like it was a nice place in its heyday.”

  “Michael, you’ve been out here before,” Savannah said, catching up to him. “You were just here yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I didn’t have time to check it out.” He grinned at her. “I was called out on an emergency for your cat, remember?” He then asked, “Have you been up in that tower?”

  “No. We tried to go up there one day. I think I told you that we lost the flashlight, Rags got loose, and a bird attacked us.”

  He abruptly faced her. “Huh?”

  “Didn’t I tell you that?”

  “No. A bird?”

  “Yes, it attacked Rags, too.” She chuckled. “Or he fainted when he saw the bird. I don’t know exactly what happened that day.”

  Michael looked at her, then glanced at the building. Suddenly something caught his eye. “Did you know there are cats inside there?”

  “Yes. Didn’t you see them when you were in there Friday night?”

  “No.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I guess I heard Luke say something about them, though. How do they get in? I mean, we sure didn’t find any openings in the floor.”

  “There seems to be a colony of all-black cats that live inside there. We’ve never seen them outside at all.”

  “Can’t you catch them?” he asked.

  “Yeah, we might be able to.” She leaned toward him and spoke more quietly. “We’re pretty sure someone’s taking care of them. They seem to be in really good shape.”

  He frowned. “Well, that’s odd. So you think someone comes out here and feeds them?”

  She nodded. “Either that or someone’s living in there.” She grasped his arm. “But Michael, we’ve been all through that place and we haven’t seen evidence of anyone having set up housekeeping. We can’t even find a feeding station for the black cats. So we’re feeding them, just in case.”

  Michael contemplated Savannah’s comments for a moment, then looked back at the car to check on Lily before gravitating toward one of the debris piles. “Boy, there’s a lot of good junk out here.”

  “Good junk?”

  “Yeah, that’s a nice wheelbarrow.”

  “Michael, we don’t need another wheelbarrow.”

  “No, but someone we know might.” He tossed a few things aside to see what was underneath. “Damon might want to look through this stuff. Hey, there’s a good metal rake.” He glanced in Lily’s direction again, then said, “What’s this?”

  “What?” she asked, pulling her jacket more tightly around herself.

  He moved a few more things around, then quickly stepped back. “Good Lord!”

  When Savannah started to move closer, he turned her away. “I don’t think you want to see this.” He put one arm around her and walked with her toward the car.

  “What is it?” she asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket, took another look behind him, then made a call. He let out a deep sigh before saying into the phone, “Nine-one-one, this is Michael Ivey. I’m at the old seminary at...” he glanced around, “…on west Carter.” He looked briefly at Savannah and said more quietly, “I’ve found a body.” He paused. “Yes, I’ll wait here.”

  “A body?” Savannah screeched.

  She tried to turn and look behind her, but Michael discouraged it. “Hon, it’s not something you’ll want to see. Now, why don’t you go move the car so the emergency vehicles can get in. Stay with Lily, will you?”

  ****

  “Do they know who it is, Michael?” Savannah asked when he joined her several minutes later.

  “Not yet,” he said. “The investigator wants to talk to you. I’ll stay with Lily.” When she looked unsure, he said, “He’s on the other side of the coroner’s car, waiting for you.”

  She walked slowly between a couple of emergency vehicles and spotted a man with a notepad. He motioned to her. When he saw that she was pregnant, he pulled two folding chairs from the back of a large van and placed them on the outskirts of the activity. “Please sit down, won’t you?” he invited. “Would you state your name?”

  She chuckled nervously. “Like in a cou
rtroom?” When he just stared at her, she said, “Savannah Ivey.”

  “And what were you and your husband doing out here, Mrs. Ivey?”

  “Um…I’m helping to trap a colony of cats that have been living out here for a long time.”

  “Colony?” he questioned.

  “Yes, that’s what they call it when a group of feral…um…wild cats band together. The owner’s going to demolish the building in August and he’s asked us to relocate the cats.”

  He looked at her over the rim of his reading glasses. “Relocate?”

  “Yes, we trap them in humane traps and move them to a safe place where we can try to socialize them and place them in homes—you know, as pets.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  “And you were trapping this afternoon?”

  “Actually, no. My husband and I just stopped by to check on the cats.”

  “And how was the deceased discovered?” he asked.

  “Didn’t Michael—my husband—didn’t he tell you? He was looking through some of the trash and I guess he saw it. I didn’t see it.”

  “Have you seen anyone around here at all since you’ve been…um…trapping cats?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “What do you mean by not really?”

  “Well, a couple from that tract over there came by one day. They wanted to know what we were doing out here. Their name is Ward.” She hesitated before saying, “And we saw someone else. At least we think we saw someone…”

  “Where?”

  She glanced at the structure. “Once up in the bell tower and once…” She winced, “…I thought I saw someone in the second-floor hallway inside there.”

  He looked at her for a moment, then asked, “Do you think that was Mr. or Mrs. Ward?”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you know who it was—I mean, in the bell tower and in the hallway?”

  “No.”

  “Can you describe these people you think you saw?” he asked.

  She gazed at the bell tower. “Well, once we saw a piece of fabric blowing in the breeze up there. We thought it might be a scarf, maybe. Another time, I saw what looked like a woman carrying a bird cage, running—no, sort of gliding along the second-floor hallway toward the staircase.”