A Christmas to Purr About

by Patricia Fry

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you, Bud,” Savannah said, hugging him.

  “Sure, Savannah. I’m just glad he’s...” Bud couldn’t finish his sentence.

  “Can I see him?” Savannah asked.

  After thinking about it, Michael said, “Yeah, it might be a comfort to him, actually.”

  “Oh, Rags,” Savannah said seconds later, tearing up. “Michael, he looks so pitiful. I’ve never seen him look so pitiful.” She gently touched the top of his head with the tips of her fingers and started to laugh a little hysterically. “I guess the most pitiful I ever saw him look was the time he ran away from me and found himself in the middle of a sticky, icky mud puddle.” When Michael seemed to be waiting for more, she said, her voice cracking with emotion, “He was an adolescent and I’d taken him to romp at a local school. They were getting ready for a tug-of-war and they’d created this big mud puddle.”

  “He fell into it?” Michael asked.

  “Actually, he ran into it. And boy was he a muddy mess, an unhappy muddy mess.”

  “I’ll bet,” Michael said, staring at the cat, who was still unconscious in a recovery cage.

  “So what do we do now?” Savannah asked. “Just wait?”

  “Pretty much. I want to monitor his vitals over the next several hours—until we’re sure he’s stabilized, and we’ll need to keep him sedated and probably confine him to a pen once we get him home. We can’t let him be active or he’s liable to pull the inside stitches. He’ll have the drain for several days.” He shook his head. “He’s going to be one unhappy cat for a while. Let’s just hope he can tolerate the cure.”

  “What does that mean?” Savannah asked.

  “You know, if he’ll cooperate he should be okay. But it won’t take much to create a new problem.”

  Savannah looked down at the limp cat. She leaned toward him and whispered, “Please, Ragsie, do what Dad tells you. We want you to heal up real good. You hear?”

  “Will you go after the guy who did this?” Margaret asked from behind Savannah and Michael.

  Michael gritted his teeth. “You’d better believe I’ll go after him. As soon as Rags doesn’t need me, I’ll file a report and start talking to some of the homeless men and women I met. Someone’s bound to know him. Believe me, I have his face burned into my memory. If I ever see him again, I’ll recognize him in a heartbeat.”

  “How is he?” came a voice from behind them.

  “Oh, Craig,” Savannah said, “what are you doing here?”

  “Iris told me she’d heard that Rags was hurt. I came to see if you needed help with anything. What happened, anyway?”

  “Some evil homeless guy stabbed him,” Savannah said.

  Craig looked at Michael, who confirmed, “That’s right. I saw it happen. The dude just slashed at Rags and doggone if he didn’t make contact.” He choked up. “We just about lost him. It was touch and go there for a while.”

  “You didn’t tell me that,” Savannah complained, trying unsuccessfully to choke back her emotions.

  “Well, it got kind of tense, but we pulled him through and I’m counting on Rags to do the rest of the work and get healthy again.”

  “Do you know who did this? Can you identify him?” Craig asked.

  “Yes.” Michael ran his hand through his hair. “Hey Craig, could I maybe work with the department artist?”

  Craig thought for a minute. “Well, it’s rather unconventional that we use him in a matter like this, but yeah, we could probably arrange it.” He looked up at Michael. “By the way, you must have been awfully distracted when I saw you earlier this afternoon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, when I offered to buy you a cup of coffee, you mumbled something and walked on past me. What was that about?”

  “You offered to buy me a cup of coffee?”

  “Yeah, you looked like you were taking a break—kind of wandering around. Things were slow on the chow line, so I thought we could sit down and chat. You just shined me on.”

  “I don’t remember that, Craig. But if it happened, I’m sure sorry.”

  Suddenly, Savannah gasped.

  When the others stared at her, she looked sheepish.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Michael asked.

  “Um…nothing. Not a thing.” She reached out again and touched Rags. “Please get well,” she said. She faced Craig. “Can you give me a ride to my car? I left it at the church. Michael’s going to stay here for a while with Rags.”

  “I can take you, Vannie,” Margaret offered.

  “Oh, thanks. Yeah, I know, but…um, I need to talk to Craig about something.” She reached out and put her hand on Margaret’s arm. “I’ll be home shortly, come on over, if you want.” She looked at Craig. “Do you mind?”

  He shook his head. “No, of course not. Are you ready?”

  Savannah kissed Rags gently on top of the head. She kissed Michael, then took one more look at Rags and walked out with Craig.

  The two of them rode in silence until Savannah turned toward the detective. “Craig, tell me about the man you spoke to—I mean when you spoke to Michael when he was distracted.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you sure it was Michael?”

  “Well, yeah. I should know Michael when I see him. Of course it was Michael.” He glanced at her a couple of times while he drove. “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Well,” she stalled, “I have a confession to make.”

  “Yeah?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Um, I found Michael’s brother and he might have come here without letting us know.”

  “Brother?” Craig said. He touched the brake pedal a little too firmly, throwing both of them forward slightly. “Michael has a brother? When did this happen? Where’d he come from? I didn’t know anything about a brother.”

  “Neither did I, but…”

  He interrupted her. “No, Savannah, this was not a brother. It was Michael; I’m sure of it.”

  “They’re twins,” she explained quietly. “Identical twins.”

  “Twins?” he said, jerking the steering wheel to avoid crossing the center line.

  Savannah chuckled. “Maybe you’d better pull over while I tell you the rest of the story.”

  “Yeah, maybe I should. Hey, we’re here. There’s your car.” He parked, turned the key off, and said, “I’m ready. Tell me about this…twin brother.”

  “Well, Michael was a young man when he found out he had a twin brother who had been adopted out. But he has never tried to locate him. I…um…well, Craig, I went behind his back and discovered that Keith, his twin, has been looking for Michael, which is actually how I found him.”

  “And you haven’t told Michael?”

  She shrank back in her seat. “Well, I told him I’d found him, but that’s all. Michael doesn’t want to see him. He says he doesn’t want to open a can of worms. He loves our life just the way it is.” She grimaced. “I didn’t think Keith would come here. I guess he’s eager to know his brother. Oh, Craig, what am I going to do?”

  “So the guy I thought was Michael was…Well, damn, isn’t that something?” he said, grinning. He shook his head. “Boy, is Michael going to be surprised. I mean, this guy is a dead-ringer.”

  “Yeah, Keith’s picture sure looks like Michael.”

  “Where does he live? How did they get separated, anyway?” Craig looked askance. “Who adopts one of their twin babies out?”

  “Poor and maybe ignorant people. Evidently, from what Keith’s adoptive family told him, their mother wanted only one child. She was so determined to have just one child that she gave up one of her twins. I can’t even imagine,” she said scornfully. When she realized Craig was waiting for more information, she said, “They were born in Connecticut. Actually, a doctor on staff at the small hospital that day took Keith. It wasn’t a traditional adoption. He and his wife had been u
nable to have children. Once they adopted Keith, however, they had a baby of their own. So he has a younger sister. He said he had a good life, and that his adoptive parents never kept anything from him. He has known since he was quite young that he has a twin brother. He started searching for Michael just recently.”

  Craig rubbed his chin. “How did the two families keep from running into each other in that community?”

  “Oh, Keith told me his parents moved to Colorado as soon as they completed the adoption, just for that reason. He and his family still live there now.” She spoke more excitedly. “Craig, would you believe he’s a veterinarian?”

  “Really?” Craig shook his head. “Gosh, this is kind of mind-boggling. What’s Michael going to say when he finds out—I mean, when he finds out his brother is here in Hammond?”

  “I hope he’s going to be over-the-top thrilled.” She looked at Craig. “So he’s here, huh? I should maybe try to contact him through email and find out where he’s staying and see if we can figure out a way to get the two of them together.” She looked sheepish. “Or to keep them apart.”

  “Did you tell him Michael would be at the church today? Because that’s where I saw him.”

  “No, but there was that piece in the paper about the event and it mentioned Michael’s temporary clinic. So that’s probably how he knew. He probably knows where we live and where the clinic is. I wonder what he plans to do. Yeah, I think I’d better try to contact Keith. I’ll do it when I get home.” She smiled at the detective. “Well, thanks for the ride and for caring about Rags.”

  “Hey, he’s one of our own…” he said, “…a fallen hero.” He smiled weakly at her. “Honey, I sure hope he’s going to be okay.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” she said grimly.

  Chapter 11

  “Oh, you’re home,” Savannah said sounding groggy.

  “Yeah. Been asleep long?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t think so.” She turned on the bedside lamp and propped herself up. “I went to bed around eleven, but couldn’t sleep. How is he?” When Michael didn’t respond, she sat up straighter. “Michael?” she said, sounding panicked.

  He took a deep breath. “He’s still with us. But he’s struggling, hon.” When she started to weep, he lowered himself onto the bed, took her in his arms, and whispered into her hair, “He’s tough. I think we can pull him through this. But it just might be the fight of his life.”

  “Poor Rags. So Bud’s with him?” she asked.

  “No. Bud’s not with him.”

  She pulled back. “You left him alone?”

  “No.” He stood and looked down at her. “Keith’s with him.”

  “What?” she said, her eyes wide and searching.

  “He said you’ve been in touch with each other. Why, Savannah? Why did you go behind my back and against my wishes?”

  “Oh, hon, I’m sorry.” She hung her feet over the edge of the bed and faced him. “I just wanted you to feel—you know, complete. You said yourself, you were aware of feeling as if something is missing in your life.”

  “Yeah, but I also told you that you and Lily and your crazy family replaced that a long time ago. I didn’t feel a need to…”

  “I’m sorry, Michael.”

  He took her hands and pulled her to him, holding her for a few moments. “It’s okay, hon.” He stepped back and smiled. “In fact, it’s more than okay.” Glancing around as if searching for words, he said, “I just can’t describe what I feel right now. You were right. We need that connection to our roots in order to be whole. I didn’t know how important it was until tonight.”

  “So you’re not mad at me?” she asked timidly.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “No. I’m not mad at you.”

  While trying to absorb what he had just told her, Savannah stepped back and peered into his eyes. “So, you like your brother? How did you meet up with him? How did he find you? What’s he doing here? I didn’t know he would…”

  He put one finger across her lips to silence her, then led her to the bed, sat on the edge of it, and pulled her down next to him. “Well, he came to the clinic and saw the lights on and my truck in the back, so he wandered in.” Michael stood and began to pace. “Man, was I shocked when I looked up and saw my own face staring back at me. I think he was pretty surprised, too. We both just stood there looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity.” He laughed. “I’m not sure which of us made the first move, but soon we were both talking at once and laughing and joking. I don’t know how many times we hugged. It was…”

  “Magical?” Savannah offered, her green eyes sparkling with delight.

  “Well, surreal is more like it.” He suddenly faced her. “And to find out he’s a veterinarian—gosh, what a surprise.” He sat down next to her again and took her hand. “Savannah, he specializes in cats. We consulted on Rags’s condition.” He choked up when he said, “Can you imagine me consulting with my brother on a medical case? What a trip.”

  “And he’s with Rags now?” she asked.

  “Yes, he could see I was pretty tired—wired and excited, but exhausted. And he offered to stay. I felt comfortable with him there. Anyway, I couldn’t wait to come home and tell you what had happened.”

  “That’s so cool. I’m really happy for you, hon.” She giggled. “So, so happy.” She pressed his hand against her face and looked into his eyes. “Do you think you can get some sleep, now? Want me to bring you a glass of warm milk or something?”

  Michael shook his head. “No, thanks. I think I can sleep. Sure do need it.” He stood up, slipped off his shoes, pulled off his shirt and slacks, then climbed into bed. “But boy am I pumped. Can’t wait to spend more time with my…brother. My brother, Savannah!” he said excitedly.

  ****

  The Ivey household had been quiet for only a few hours when Michael’s cell phone rang. “Oh, crumb,” Michael said, turning on the lamp and picking up his phone. When he saw that the call came from his clinic, he sat straight up. “Hello.”

  “Michael, this is Keith. Listen, about your cat—I’m concerned. I don’t like the numbers. I’d feel more comfortable if you’d take a look. I think we either need to go back in, which I sure don’t want to do, or we can try that new treatment I told you about.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Michael said, ending the call as he stepped into the bathroom.

  “Is it Rags?” Savannah asked when he returned.

  “Yes. Keith said there’s a problem.”

  “Oh no,” she said, climbing out of bed and pulling on her jeans.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m going with you. He is my cat, you know.”

  “What time is it, anyway?” he asked. He looked at his watch. “Three thirty-five. Okay. Why don’t you meet me there?”

  “All right. I’ll make some coffee for you guys and maybe bring some of the leftover pie—after I say a prayer for Rags.” She clasped her hands under her chin. “Oh, Michael, he just has to be okay.”

  He picked up his jacket, then looked into her face. “We’ll do our best. You know that. And I believe Rags is working hard on his end, too.”

  She kissed him and said weakly, “Thanks, hon.”

  As she prepared the pie for travel and waited for the coffee to brew, Savannah’s cell phone rang. “Auntie, what are you doing up so late—or are you up early?”

  “I saw your lights on and wondered how…” she hesitated. More gently she asked, “How’s he doing, Vannie?”

  “There’s a problem. I don’t know what it is.”

  “Oh no. I’m sorry to hear it.” After pausing, Margaret asked, “Are you going to the clinic?

  “Yes.”

  “Want company?”

  “Sure. But wouldn’t you rather sleep in? I would.”

  “I’ve slept enough. Went to bed with the chickens last night. I only need five or six hours sleep these days. Yeah, come by and get
me.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m brewing coffee and writing a note for Mom. We put Lily to sleep in her room last night, just in case…”

  ****

  When the women arrived at the clinic, they found themselves alone in the waiting room. “I wonder if he’s in surgery,” Savannah whispered, placing a tote bag on the reception counter.

  Margaret placed the coffee carafe next to it and peered inside the bag. “What’s in here? Pie?” she asked.

  Savannah nodded. She stared into the hallway, then turned toward her aunt. “Yeah, apple. Want a piece?”

  “No, not this early.” Margaret removed the pie, paper plates, and utensils from the tote and arranged them on the counter. She poured a cup of coffee for herself. “Did you bring your tea?”

  “No, I didn’t think about it.”

  The women waited mostly quietly for about fifteen minutes before Michael entered the waiting room.

  “How is he?” Savannah asked anxiously. “Will you do more surgery?”

  “We may not need to,” he said. “We’re trying something new. Just cross your fingers that it works.” He walked to the reception desk and picked up the carafe. “Is this coffee?”

  “Yes,” Savannah said. “Want me to cut you a piece of pie?”

  He nodded while pouring the coffee into a Styrofoam cup.

  “Why didn’t you tell me there was a problem?” Savannah asked. “I thought he was okay last night.”

  “We didn’t actually know there was a problem until…” Once Savannah had handed him a piece of pie, he walked away, mumbling, “I’d better get back in there.”

  Savannah watched her husband disappear into the hallway, then she headed in the opposite direction toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back, Auntie.”

  Seconds later, Margaret looked up and greeted the man entering the room. “Back for more?” she asked.

  “Uh, just came in for a cup of coffee,” he said.

  “For Bud?”