by Tom Watson
Yes, he had been plenty frightened both those times—scared out of his wits actually.
But this was different.
He wasn’t frightened.
He was angry.
He made a decision right then and right there.
He would try to stop this thief.
He didn’t know how.
And he didn’t think he stood a chance.
But that didn’t mean Stick Cat wouldn’t try.
And he knew he’d need help.
“Edith,” he said. “I’m going to try—”
But Edith was no longer there.
Chapter 7
IT EVAPORATED
Edith was eating the tuna.
“Edith!” Stick Cat yelled.
She didn’t look up. Edith kept her full attention on the two little mounds of tuna.
Well, it was actually just one little mound of tuna. She had already consumed the first one.
“Edith!”
She still didn’t look up.
Stick Cat watched as the masked man disappeared into the bedroom.
“Edith!”
Finally, she lifted her head.
The tuna was gone.
“I’m sorry, Stick Cat,” she replied. She licked some tuna bits from her lips. “I didn’t hear you calling. I must have been busy with something else.”
Despite the fact that he was anxious and nervous and worried about what was happening inside his apartment, Stick Cat had to smile. “No problem,” he said. “How was the tuna this time?”
Edith licked her lips again. “Even better than the first time! I swear!”
“Maybe I should try a taste,” Stick Cat suggested.
“Umm, it’s a good idea and everything,” responded Edith. “But, umm, there’s none left.”
“None?”
“None.”
“Where did it all go?” asked Stick Cat. There was just a hint of mischief in his voice, but Edith didn’t seem to notice at all. She seemed mostly preoccupied with licking the final tasty tuna morsels from her whiskers. “I thought there were two portions.”
“Yes, there were, Stick Cat,” Edith said quickly, and nodded. “Yes, there were. That’s very observant of you. Way to pay attention to every detail.”
“Where did the other portion go?”
“Excuse me?”
“I asked, ‘Where did the other portion go?’”
“Oh, well, that’s a very good question,” Edith said, and shifted her eyes away from Stick Cat. “A very good question indeed.”
Stick Cat knew Edith was stalling for time to think of a way to respond. He asked, “But do you have a very good answer?”
“I do. Yes.”
“Okay, then. What happened to that second portion of tuna?”
Edith remained turned away from Stick Cat—but only for eight seconds. Her shoulders twitched a little. It was a slight—almost imperceptible—grin that came to her face. She turned to Stick Cat then. With utter confidence, she said just two words.
“It evaporated.”
“It evaporated?”
“It evaporated.”
“My portion of tuna evaporated?” Stick Cat asked again. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s what I’m saying,” answered Edith. She was ready to move on. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”
“I thought only liquids could evaporate,” Stick Cat said. Now, truthfully, Stick Cat had no intention of eating a portion of tuna anyway. There was no way he would take anything from this man who stole from Goose. It wouldn’t be right. But the idea of having a bit of fun with Edith during this tense time seemed like a good one. “I didn’t think solids could evaporate.”
“Lots of things can evaporate,” Edith said, defending her position.
“Like what?”
“Water, for instance.”
“It does. But that’s a liquid,” said Stick Cat. “Tuna is a solid.”
Edith clearly didn’t want to continue this conversation, but she didn’t quite know how to end it. “What is tuna, Stick Cat?”
“It’s a fish.”
“Exactly,” Edith said. “It’s a fish. There’s your explanation.”
Stick Cat shook his head. “What?”
“Fish swim, right?” Edith asked. She was already growing impatient.
“Right.”
“Where do they swim?”
“In the ocean.”
“What’s the ocean made of?”
“Water.”
“And water evaporates, Stick Cat,” Edith said. There was a hint of triumph in her voice.
“But—”
“No buts,” Edith said, and shook her head.
“But just because tuna swim in water and water evaporates, that doesn’t mean—” Stick Cat began to say, but he was interrupted.
“It’s all connected, Stick Cat. It’s all connected!”
Stick Cat could think of nothing at all to say.
Having concluded her side of the conversation to her satisfaction, Edith looked around the room and asked, “Where did Tuna Todd go?”
“To the bedroom,” answered Stick Cat.
As soon as Stick Cat answered, Edith hustled off in that direction.
“Where are you going?”
“To the bedroom, of course,” Edith called over her shoulder. “To help Tuna Todd.”
“To HELP him?!”
“Absolutely,” Edith answered without hesitation. “I love this guy.”
“He’s stealing, Edith! He’s not even allowed to be here.”
“And I suppose Santa isn’t allowed into homes either.”
“This guy is NOT Santa.”
“He’s like Santa,” Edith said. As she hurried to the bedroom, she made one last comment. “And that’s good enough for me.”
Stick Cat did not hurry off. He waited. He wasn’t altogether sure he wanted to watch the masked burglar anymore. There was nothing he could do to stop him. Tuna Todd was just too big.
But Stick Cat wasn’t going to give up just yet.
He was determined to find some way—any way—to stop the man.
He headed to the bedroom.
When he got there, Stick Cat couldn’t believe what he saw.
Chapter 8
MAGIC TUNA DUST
Edith was on Goose’s bed.
She sat back on her rear legs and held her front paws up in front of herself in an obvious begging position.
Tuna Todd stood before her. He tore little chunks of tuna off a bigger piece and dropped them into Edith’s mouth.
He asked, “Who’s a good kitty?”
“I am!” Edith exclaimed. Of course, Tuna Todd couldn’t understand what she said—but he encouraged her just the same.
“Who wants some more tuna?” he asked, and held another piece of fish in front of her.
“I do, Tuna Todd!” Edith screamed. She was springing up and down on her back legs now. “I do!”
“You’re not going to tell anybody I was here, are you?”
“No, Tuna Todd! Never!” exclaimed Edith. She stretched up and forward and snatched the tuna from the burglar’s hand. “Your secret identity is safe with me, Tuna Todd!”
“Edith!” screamed Stick Cat from the doorway. “What are you doing?!”
She was far too busy chewing to answer, but the man turned his head quickly upon hearing Stick Cat.
“Ahh, you want your share too, hunh?” the burglar said upon spotting Stick Cat. He had obviously misinterpreted Stick Cat’s sounds again. He yanked off another chunk of tuna and tossed it toward Stick Cat. “Here you go, kitty.”
Now, Stick Cat had absolutely no intention of eating that tuna from this terrible man. He looked forward to turning his head away from that chunk of fish—or maybe even batting it back at him. That would teach this mean burglar a lesson.
But Stick Cat never even got the chance.
That’s because as soon as that tuna was airborne—as soon as it began travelin
g in a graceful arc toward Stick Cat—something happened.
Do you know what happened?
I bet you do.
I’ll tell you in case you don’t.
Edith sprang from the bed and snatched that tuna from the air before it even began its descent.
She snared the flying tuna chunk in her teeth and landed gracefully on all fours on the bedroom carpet. She had already swallowed it when the burglar spoke.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That’s the way I do things too! Take whatever I want, whenever I want. You are my kind of cat!”
“And you are my kind of cat-loving superhero!” Edith exclaimed with true admiration.
“Edith!”
She turned a guilty head over her shoulder as her tongue circled her lips in search of extra tuna bits. “Yes, Stick Cat?”
“How can you do that?”
“How can I do what?”
“Play with this terrible person?”
“I like to play.”
“And how can you eat treats from him?!”
“The eating is the best part,” Edith explained casually. In truth, she seemed slightly relieved that Stick Cat wasn’t upset about her snatching his tuna portion out of midair. She continued, “But you have to eat it correctly.”
Stick Cat was frustrated with Edith. That was certain. But he had to ask, “What do you mean? What’s the right way to eat tuna?”
“I’m glad you asked,” answered Edith. She was all too happy to explain. “You see, I have a very sophisticated palate. It’s taken me years to refine my tasting capabilities. My taste buds have not been dulled and sullied by pouch food. No. My taste buds have been developed and nurtured by my love of finer, more elegant cuisine. I’m quite a conundrum.”
“Conundrum?”
“That means I’m a food expert.”
“I think you mean connoisseur.”
Edith didn’t like being corrected—or interrupted. You could tell. She hesitated a few seconds, closed her eyes very slowly, and then opened them just as slowly.
“As I was saying,” Edith continued. “To eat and savor tuna properly, you must hold it in your mouth for a moment. You must let that awesome tuna goodness spread all around. You must combine the tuna with the liquid in your mouth. You must let it swim. It must swim, Stick Cat! It must swim!!”
Stick Cat had never seen Edith quite this worked up. She was delighting in her description.
“After the tuna, umm, swims,” said Stick Cat. “Then what do you do?”
Edith nodded at the question. She appreciated that Stick Cat recognized her expertise.
“Then,” Edith said, and paused. “Then you just chew it and swallow it as fast as you can! I’m REALLY good at eating fast!”
“Wow,” Stick Cat said. “You make it sound so nice. Maybe I should try some.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Stick Cat,” Edith said. “You’ve already refused it twice. And I’m really the expert here. When Tuna Todd sprinkles the world with Magic Tuna Dust, you should just let me take care of it.”
“‘Magic Tuna Dust’?”
“That’s right,” Edith said. “That’s how I’ve come to think of his tasty tuna distributions—Magic Tuna Dust.”
Stick Cat hung his head.
He truly didn’t know what to do. He knew it would be hard to convince Edith this man was a bad person when she thought he was some kind of hero spreading Magic Tuna Dust all over the place.
What Stick Cat did not know was this: the burglar himself would soon convince Edith that he needed to be stopped.
Chapter 9
SOCK BALLS
Stick Cat watched as the man pulled out every drawer in Goose’s dresser.
“Sometimes, the really good stuff is hidden under the clothes,” the man said to himself. He seemed so wrapped up in what he was doing that he had forgotten entirely about Stick Cat and Edith. He dug his hands into all the drawers, pushing through Goose’s T-shirts, pants, and boxer shorts without finding anything. The last drawer contained all of Goose’s socks. They were rolled up into balls.
“Ahh, the sock drawer,” the man said with a sense of anticipation. “I’ve found some of my finest treasures in the sock drawer.”
His back was turned toward Stick Cat and Edith as he sifted through Goose’s rolled-up socks.
The man huffed a bit to himself and said, “Too many. I can’t find anything in here.”
And with that, the man began to fling Goose’s socks over his shoulder. The sock balls rained down from the air all around Edith and Stick Cat. The socks bounced on the bed and fell to the floor. They bounced on the carpet and rolled to a stop.
It was too much for Edith to resist.
She leaped into the air and bounded after the sock balls as they fell from the air, tumbled off the bed, and rolled across the carpet.
“Come on, Stick Cat!” Edith squealed as she bounced about to bat the bouncing balls. “It’s totally fun! Tuna Todd wants to play!”
“He’s not playing, Edith!” Stick Cat sighed. He was clearly tired of trying to convince Edith that Tuna Todd was a bad person. “He’s just trying to steal more things.”
“Whee!” Edith mewed with delight as the burglar tossed more and more sock balls over his shoulder. “Here come some more!”
It only took about twenty seconds before the man emptied the sock drawer entirely. He had found nothing else to steal.
“Nothing,” the man said to himself, and checked his watch. “I should be going anyway. Been here long enough.”
The burglar then stepped around Edith, Stick Cat, and all the scattered sock balls on the way to the living room. He continued to speak to himself as he walked.
“Not too bad,” the burglar said as he reached for the rope and pulled it taut. He tugged at it a few times to ensure it was secure and would hold his weight. He seemed confident that it would—and he seemed satisfied with his visit to Goose and Stick Cat’s apartment. “A pretty good haul, I’d say. A silver pocket watch and a bunch of cash. Let’s see what I can get at the next stop.”
And with that the man climbed the rope and disappeared through the air-conditioning vent.
“Good-bye, Tuna Todd!” Edith called with delight. “Thanks for the Magic Tuna Dust! And the sock ball game! It was totally fun!”
The burglar didn’t even glance back in Edith’s direction. He simply yanked the rope up through the vent and disappeared.
But Edith wasn’t offended. As if providing an explanation for her hero’s hasty departure, Edith said, “He has to hurry off to the next cat household. You know, to spread more joy and cheer to other kitties throughout the world. I totally understand.”
Stick Cat could not respond. He dropped his head and stared at the floor. He was sad and angry about what had just happened—and bewildered by Edith’s misinterpretation of it.
“Come back soon, Tuna Todd,” Edith called up to the now-empty vent. “And don’t forget your Magic Tuna Dust!”
Stick Cat raised his head, glanced back and forth a couple of times between the vent and Edith. He whispered, “Oh, for the love of—” But he didn’t say anything else—because Edith interrupted him.
“Hey, Stick Cat?”
“Yes?”
“How about another nap? My tummy’s full, and I’m tired from all that sock play.”
Stick Cat was tired too—exhausted really. Witnessing this burglar commit those crimes and his inability to do anything about it was so frustrating—and so tiring.
“Fine,” he said.
But Edith didn’t hear him.
She was already asleep.
Stick Cat closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep too. He wanted to forget what had just happened—even for just a little while.
He concentrated on the pattern of Edith’s snoring.
Haunk-shoo. Haunk-shoo. Haunk-shoo.
He concentrated on that rhythm—and waited for sleep to come.
Haunk-shoo. Haunk-shoo.
He
waited. And listened.
Haunk-shoo.
Until another sound interrupted everything.
THUD!
And then the floor shook.
Chapter 10
IT’S THE TOILET
“Edith!”
Edith opened one eye halfway to acknowledge Stick Cat, but she didn’t say a word.
“Edith!” Stick Cat repeated. “Wake up! I heard something. I think it’s coming from the bathroom!”
Edith yawned and closed that one eye again. She said, “Someone probably just flushed the toilet.”
Now, even Stick Cat—who was perfectly familiar with Edith’s odd answers and ideas—had to pause at this suggestion.
“There’s nobody here,” Stick Cat said.
“We’re here,” Edith whispered without opening her eyes.
“And we were both here in the living room,” Stick Cat explained. “And I know what a toilet sounds like. And—”
But Stick Cat stopped himself.
Edith wasn’t listening.
She was snoring again.
As Stick Cat shook his head, more strange sounds came from the bathroom. It was as if the noise was distant—farther than the bathroom or something—but still coming from that direction.
“What is that?” Stick Cat whispered, and cocked his head to aim his left ear that way. It sounded like several things were opening and closing in succession.
And then Stick Cat’s eyes flashed open wide.
He knew what it was.
He knew who it was.
“Edith!” he yelled.
“I told you,” she said without moving a whisker. “It’s the toilet.”
“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the toilet.”
“Maybe it’s another elephant,” suggested Edith. “Since there wasn’t one before, the odds are much better it’s an elephant this time.”
Stick Cat hung his head and stared at the thick, plush carpet beneath his front paws. He inhaled and exhaled three times in a row. In a much calmer voice, he said, “I think there’s someone in your apartment, Edith.”
