by Tom Watson
“What’s he doing?!” a wide-eyed Edith asked Stick Cat in an angry whisper. She breathed fast, her shoulders were hunched a bit, and the fur on her back was up.
“He’s stealing, Edith.”
“My collars?! My daily collars?! My beautiful, colorful collars?!”
“Yes.”
“He’s stealing from me?!”
“Yes.”
“A cat?!”
“That’s right.”
“But I’m a good kitty.”
“I know you are.”
“I’m a great kitty!”
“I know.”
“I’m a fabulous, beautiful, and totally modest kitty!”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And Tuna Todd is stealing from me?”
“I’m afraid so.”
It took several seconds for Edith to consider and digest this information. As she did, the man began to pick her collars off the pegs one by one. He reached for the first one—Monday’s collar—with his greedy, grabby left hand.
“Stick Cat,” Edith said, and looked him right in the eyes.
“Yes?”
“I don’t like Tuna Todd anymore.”
Stick Cat used all his effort to suppress a smile. He knew this was a scary situation, but at this exact moment he was amused that it took something being stolen from Edith herself for her to finally understand the situation.
“I’m sorry about your collars,” Stick Cat said. “And I’m sorry Tuna Todd didn’t turn out to be as nice as you thought.”
“We should have figured it out earlier,” hissed Edith.
“Umm,” Stick Cat said, and stopped. It seemed like he was contemplating the right words to use. “You’re right. If only I had been clever enough to figure out what he was doing.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Stick Cat,” Edith said. “Thankfully, you have me here to help.”
They both turned to watch the man remove, examine, and take Edith’s Monday collar.
“We have to stop him!” Edith exclaimed.
“I know,” Stick Cat agreed. “But I don’t know how.”
The burglar continued to hold Monday’s collar up to the light. He tilted it left and right, and let it dangle in front of his eyes. The collar was decorated with green gemstones. He dropped it into the bag.
“I know how to stop him,” Edith said quickly. “We have to call that emergency number on the telephone!”
“You mean 9-1-1?”
“That’s it!” Edith exclaimed. She was happy Stick Cat understood. “Quick! What’s the number for 9-1-1?!”
“Umm,” said Stick Cat. “What do you mean, ‘What’s the number for 9-1-1?’?”
“That’s the emergency number we have to call!”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What’s the number?” Edith repeated. She was growing more and more exasperated. “What do we dial on the phone?”
“It’s, you know, 9-1-1,” Stick Cat answered. He couldn’t quite comprehend what Edith didn’t understand.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure the number for 9-1-1 is 9-1-1,” Stick Cat said. “But we can’t use a telephone anyway.”
“Of course we can,” Edith said quickly. She seemed totally frustrated. “I’ve seen Tiffany use the telephone dozens of times. You pick up the whatchamacallit and press some buttons on the thingamajig and talk into the who-zee-whats-it.”
“But the human on the other end won’t be able to understand us,” Stick Cat explained. This was obvious to him but apparently not yet to Edith. “It won’t work.”
In a few seconds, it did dawn on Edith. “Well, of course, it won’t. I knew that.”
The masked man dropped Edith’s Wednesday collar into his satchel.
Stick Cat had almost given up. He hung his head and shook it slowly back and forth. There was simply nothing he and Edith could do. The evil man was just too big. Just too dangerous. Just too greedy. Just too mean.
Stick Cat continued to shake his head. He whispered more to himself than anyone else. “Think of all the things he’s taken. Goose’s watch—”
“My collars,” Edith included.
“The money for his trip—”
“My collars.”
“Tiffany’s jewelry.”
“My collars.”
Stick Cat raised his head and looked at Edith. While he did, the man dropped Edith’s Thursday collar into his bag of pilfered stuff.
“I’m sorry about your collars,” Stick Cat said sincerely to Edith. “I know they’re important to you.”
“They’re more valuable than Tiffany’s jewelry, that’s for sure.”
Stick Cat nodded.
“They’re more important than Goose’s things—his watch, his trip.”
Stick Cat didn’t really think Edith’s bejeweled collars were more valuable or important than Goose’s grandfather’s watch or his dream of a special trip to Paris, France. He considered making that point to Edith, but he decided not to for one simple reason.
Do you know what it was?
I’ll tell you.
It’s kind of an important part of the story.
Something Edith had just said sparked the hint of an idea in Stick Cat’s mind. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet. But there was something there.
Something.
What was it?
“Edith,” Stick Cat said. “What did you just say?”
“I said my collars are way more important than Tiffany’s jewelry.”
“No, after that.”
“And more important than Goose’s things—his watch, his trip.”
That was it.
It was there.
Right there.
“‘His watch, his trip,’” whispered Stick Cat.
Edith cocked her head and looked at Stick Cat. “Hunh?”
He repeated, “‘Watch, his trip.’”
“Stick Cat? Why are you repeating everything? It’s kind of annoying.”
And then Stick Cat raised a single eyebrow.
He stared at Edith.
And he said just one thing.
“I know how to stop him.”
Edith snapped her head toward Stick Cat. She stared into his eyes with great intensity. She really wanted her collars back.
Edith asked, “How?”
Stick Cat smiled and answered, “We’re going to watch him trip.”
Chapter 13
EDITH IS BATTY
“Watch him trip?” Edith asked. “What are you even talking about, Stick Cat?”
Stick Cat watched as the man held Edith’s Friday collar up to the bedroom light on the ceiling. He admired the red jewels against the light. “Rubies!”
Then he dropped it into the bag.
Stick Cat knew only Edith’s Saturday and Sunday collars remained. They didn’t have much time.
“We’re going to make him trip,” Stick Cat said urgently. “We need a ball of yarn—fast!”
Edith leaped from the doorway into the bedroom and positioned herself next to a large ball of thick, blue yarn. She batted it toward Stick Cat.
It was a perfect shot.
Stick Cat caught it between his paws and ducked back behind the doorframe, hoping that Tuna Todd had not seen any of this happen.
He hadn’t.
He was far too busy admiring the purple flashes and twinkles from the jewels on Edith’s Saturday collar.
“Amethyst,” he sighed, and dropped the collar into the bag. “Beautiful.”
Stick Cat unstrung a good length of yarn from the ball—and waited for Edith to return.
She should have been back by now.
After several seconds, Stick Cat peeked around the doorframe and back into the bedroom.
There was Edith. Right where she was before.
“Edith!” Stick Cat called as quietly as he could.
“Yes, Stick Cat?” Edith answered casually from the floor at the foot of the bed. Thankfully, Tuna Todd couldn’t see her there. “What can I help yo
u with?”
“What are you doing?!”
“I’m waiting for you,” Edith answered.
“But I’m waiting for you!”
“No, no,” Edith said. “You’ve got it backward. I’m waiting for you.”
“Why?” Stick Cat asked as calmly as he could. The masked man seemed almost obsessed with the final collar in his hand. He twisted Edith’s Sunday collar in the light and was mesmerized by the subtle changes in its dazzling gemstones. He hadn’t noticed Stick Cat or Edith at all.
“I’m waiting for you to bat the ball of yarn back, of course!” Edith called. She seemed dumbfounded that Stick Cat was confused.
“Why?”
“We’re cats, that’s why,” Edith explained casually. “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”
“But we have to stop Tuna Todd!” pleaded Stick Cat.
“Balls of yarn, Stick Cat, balls of yarn,” Edith said. “We’re cats. We have to bat them around. We just have to.”
Now, this debate would have probably continued for some time—but it didn’t.
That’s because at that precise moment, the masked burglar dropped that final collar into his satchel. It rattled and clinked against all the others.
And that noise grabbed Edith’s attention.
“My collars!” she hissed. She remembered now. And in two sudden bounds she was at Stick Cat’s side.
The masked man had not seen a thing. He had his back to the doorway as he talked to himself.
“That’s a lot of loot for two apartments,” he said, and happily listed all the things he had stolen. He lifted the bag up and down in the air a few times—weighing his bounty. “A pocket watch, a ton of cash, plenty of jewelry, and all these fancy collars. Not bad. Not bad at all!”
While he spoke to himself and enumerated his takings, Stick Cat gave Edith instructions.
“We need you on the other side of the doorway!”
Edith jumped across and jerked her head around to Stick Cat for his next instruction.
“I’ll hold this loose end of yarn over here,” Stick Cat said as fast as he could.
Edith nodded her understanding.
“You hold the ball on your side,” Stick Cat went on quickly. He rolled the yarn ball across to Edith. “When Tuna Todd steps through the doorway, we’ll yank the yarn and trip him.”
Edith reached for that rolling yarn ball.
Stick Cat shot a glance at the man. He was taking a final look around the room for anything else to steal.
“Get ready. I’m going to pull it tight to trip him right when—”
But he didn’t say anything else. That’s because that ball of blue yarn rolled back across the doorway and bumped into him. He looked at it.
Edith had batted it back.
Stick Cat yanked his head up to look at Edith.
She smiled.
She was ready to play.
Stick Cat shook his head and pushed the ball back across to Edith. It rolled and tumbled to her. As it did, Stick Cat said, “No, Edith. I need you to—”
Too late.
Edith batted it back again.
He looked up at her.
She was still smiling.
“I just LOVE yarn, don’t you?” Edith asked. “I don’t love it as much as tuna, mind you. But yarn is pretty glorious.”
Stick Cat shut his eyes for a split second.
The masked man pivoted in the bedroom. He was ready to leave.
It was no use.
There was no way.
Stick Cat couldn’t get Edith to suppress her feline instincts to catch and bat the ball of yarn. She just HAD to bat it back. His whole plan was ruined. If Edith didn’t hold the other end of the yarn, they couldn’t pull it tight to trip Tuna Todd.
Stick Cat could hear the thief’s heavy footsteps approaching. He was almost to the doorway.
Stick Cat shook his head slowly in defeat and looked up at Edith.
She was still on the other side of the doorway, sitting back on her hind legs and motioning with her front paws that she wanted Stick Cat to roll the yarn ball back to her.
She wanted to play some more.
Stick Cat gave up.
He rolled the ball of yarn to Edith.
She saw it coming. She smiled and squealed with delight.
She batted it back.
Perfectly.
As Tuna Todd came through the doorway, that ball of yarn rolled directly under his foot.
Chapter 14
THUD!
And Tuna Todd fell.
Face-first.
Into the carpet.
Have you ever fallen face-first?
I have.
A bunch of times. I’m pretty good at it.
And do you know what happens when you fall down face-first?
I’ll tell you—just in case you’re not as experienced in this particular skill as I am.
Here’s what happens.
Your instincts kick in.
Your body does what it needs to do faster than your brain can tell your body what to do.
And what does your body do when you fall down face-first?
It throws both of your arms forward to break the fall.
And here’s why that’s so important right now.
When Tuna Todd began to fall, his instincts kicked in. His arms flew forward to catch himself. His hands prepared for the impact with the carpet. His fingers stretched out.
And he let go of the bag with the watch, the money, the jewelry, and Edith’s collars.
Tuna Todd crashed to the floor in a dull, heavy THUD! He bounced against the carpet and fell back onto it with a slightly less dull and slightly less heavy second THUD!
By the time the man had bounced and thudded twice, Stick Cat had leaped into the air.
He landed on Tuna Todd’s back, bounded off, and touched down right next to the bag.
“You did it, Edith!!” Stick Cat screamed toward Edith as he picked up the bag with his mouth. He began to sprint toward the bathroom. He yelled over his shoulder through clenched teeth, “Come on! Follow me!”
Edith did exactly that.
She soared into the air and smashed down on Tuna Todd’s back. She was bigger and heavier than Stick Cat. Edith seemed to enjoy that hard, heavy landing.
“Oomph!” the man yelled.
And Edith jumped off. She landed on the carpet a few feet away from the man. She turned her head over her shoulder and looked him right in the eye.
“You!” the man screamed, and began to scramble to his feet.
“That’s right,” Edith answered calmly, and brought a paw up to her collar. She stretched her head and neck a bit in his direction. “It’s me. And I got my collars back!”
“Errgh!” the man groaned in both pain and frustration. He was almost to his feet now.
“The bathroom, Edith!” Stick Cat called from ahead. “Hurry!”
She ran after him.
In the several seconds it took Edith to reach the bathroom, Stick Cat was already inside the cabinet. He shoved the bag through their hole to his and Goose’s apartment—and then jumped through himself. As soon as he was safely inside the bathroom cabinet on his side of the wall, Stick Cat turned around to look for Edith.
He heard her before he saw her.
“Here I come!” she screamed.
Stick Cat could hear the masked man’s heavy footsteps pound off the living room carpet and onto the tiled bathroom floor. There was no doubt he was gaining speed.
“I see YOU!” the man screamed.
And Stick Cat saw Edith too.
She hurtled toward the cabinet and toward their hole.
Stick Cat had never seen Edith move so fast.
Tuna Todd’s footsteps got closer and louder.
“Where are YOU going?!” he thundered. “And WHERE’S that friend of yours?! Where’s MY bag?!”
Edith leaped from the bathroom floor, flew into and through the cabinet.
Stick Cat watched wide-ey
ed.
She was going to make it. Tuna Todd would not be fast enough to catch her.
Edith was airborne.
Her aim was perfect.
Her head came through their hole.
Her shoulders came through.
Her belly did not.
Chapter 15
EDITH HAS A PRETTY TAIL
“Stick Cat!” Edith screamed.
“I see you!” Stick Cat yelled back, and lunged toward her.
“I’m stuck!”
“I know!” Stick Cat answered, and grabbed Edith’s front paws. He pulled on his best friend.
But Edith didn’t budge.
“I SEE you! And now I’m going to GET you!” Tuna Todd’s muffled voice came booming from behind Edith. “Just need to GRAB that pretty tail of yours!”
Edith felt the man’s hand brush against her tail. She swished it away.
As she did, Edith explained what was happening behind her. “He’s trying to grab my tail and yank me back!”
Stick Cat grasped Edith’s front paws as firmly as he could. He braced his back paws against the cabinet door’s edge.
“He is right, by the way,” Edith managed to say during the crisis. “My tail is quite pretty.”
“Just wait until I get hold of YOU!” the man yelled from the other side.
Edith swished her tail out of his grasp again.
Stick Cat yelled, “Get ready!”
“I do pay particular attention to my tail when grooming,” Edith said. “It’s nice for Tuna Todd to notice. Even though he’s a criminal and evil and everything, at least he has excellent taste in tails.”
Stick Cat cocked his head at Edith’s comment for a split second—and decided not to respond. Instead, he yelled just one simple thing.
“Inhale!”
Edith asked, “Inhale?”
“Inhale!”
“Hunh?”
“Take a deep breath!”
To Stick Cat’s great relief, Edith now understood his directions. She inhaled deeply.
“I got you NOW!” Tuna Todd bellowed from the other side. His right hand grasped the tip of Edith’s tail. He squeezed.
