Two Catch a Thief

by Tom Watson

  And while Tuna Todd pulled from the back, Stick Cat pulled from the front as hard as he could. It was a battle between Tuna Todd and Stick Cat. It tested their strength. It tested their willpower.

  But Stick Cat shared something with Edith that Tuna Todd did not. Tuna Todd pulled Edith with revenge and greed in his eyes. Stick Cat had something else in his eyes.

  Friendship.

  Tuna Todd pulled.

  Stick Cat pulled.

  Edith’s body wriggled.

  It shimmied.

  And Edith—all of Edith, including her tail—popped through the hole and tumbled into Stick Cat’s arms.

  Because friendship is greater than greed.

  Chapter 16

  EDITH DOES IT AGAIN

  Stick Cat couldn’t believe it. Edith was there with him. So was the bag of stolen stuff. And Tuna Todd was on the other side of the wall.

  “Stick Cat,” Edith said.

  “Yes?” Stick Cat answered. His arms were still awkwardly wrapped around her. She had popped out of that stuck position with so much force that they had tumbled almost completely out of the cabinet. He was sure Edith was about to thank him for getting her safely to his side before Tuna Todd pulled her back. “What is it, Edith?”

  “Would you kindly get your paws off of me?” she huffed. “You’re messing up my fur.”

  Stick Cat scrambled off and away from Edith. “Sorry.”

  In the few seconds it took for Stick Cat to untangle himself from Edith, Stick Cat got his bearings—and observed two very different things.

  First, Edith had made her way over to the mirror on the back of the bathroom door and was grooming herself.

  Second, Tuna Todd’s arm was reaching through the hole.

  “I’d say my tail is more than just ‘pretty,’” Edith declared calmly. Her back faced the mirror now, and she twisted her head over her shoulder so she could see the reflection of her tail. “It’s more like ‘magnificent’ or ‘glamorous.’ Wouldn’t you agree, Stick Cat?”

  Stick Cat took a single moment—and three deep breaths—before answering. He knew this whole dangerous situation might not be over. Tuna Todd’s arm reached farther and farther as it probed about inside the cabinet.

  “It is magnificent and glamorous, Edith,” Stick Cat said quickly. He picked the bag up with his mouth. In the rush to escape with it, Stick Cat hadn’t noticed how heavy it was. The collars, money, jewelry, and watch really weighed it down.

  Stick Cat looked into the cabinet. The man’s arm was no longer there.

  But his face was.

  He stared through their hole and saw what Stick Cat carried.

  “Give me that!” Tuna Todd snarled. “It’s MINE!”

  He plunged his arm back through the wall. He stretched as far as he could—almost reaching the cabinet door with his fingertips.

  Stick Cat stepped back. He—and the bag—were several inches away from Tuna Todd’s fingers. Stick Cat put the bag down.

  “What are you doing?” Edith asked. Now that she had spent a moment to groom herself and admire her tail, she seemed satisfied with her appearance.

  “He’s trying to reach the bag,” answered Stick Cat. Tuna Todd withdrew his arm and stared through the hole again. It looked like he was trying to figure out how to reach just a little farther. His eyes were narrowed and laser-focused on the bag. “He really wants to get it back.”

  “He is NOT getting my collars again,” Edith said. “No way.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Stick Cat. “He can’t fit through our hole. He’ll probably just leave here and climb up through the vent in your apartment and escape. Too bad. I wish there was some way to catch him. He’ll just steal from somebody else tomorrow. He’s so greedy.”

  “Why does he want my collars in the first place?”

  “He thinks they’re valuable.”

  “They wouldn’t even fit around his neck. It’s ridiculous! And even if he did get one, I bet it would be too tight to get off. He’d be stuck.”

  “What did you say?” asked Stick Cat. There was the spark of an idea again. He felt it. The fur on his neck popped up just a little bit.

  Edith didn’t answer. She was now too busy picturing Tuna Todd wearing one of her collars.

  “Plus, my collars are not even his style,” she observed. “He’s so plain. All black! All boring, I’d say. No, you need a fanciful, sophisticated personality to wear my collars. You have to be a little spicy. You know what I mean?”

  “You have, without a doubt, a very spicy personality,” Stick Cat said.

  Edith liked the sound of this. She closed her eyes about halfway, turned her head a bit to the side, and said, “Yes. Indeed. Quite.”

  Then Stick Cat asked, “What did you say a minute ago? When you were talking about Tuna Todd wearing your collars?”

  “They’re not his style?”

  “No. Before that.”

  “A collar would get stuck around his neck.”

  A peculiar look came to Stick Cat’s face then. A crooked little grin began to grow at the corner of his mouth.

  It wasn’t a happy grin.

  It was more like a sly grin.

  “What is it, Stick Cat?”

  “You did it again, Edith,” he said. “You did it again.”

  “Did what?”

  “Solved the problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “How we catch him.”

  “Catch who?”

  “Tuna Todd.”

  “Oh,” Edith said.

  “We catch him because he gets stuck.”

  “How?”

  “We use his greed against him,” Stick Cat answered. He picked up the bag and winked at Edith. She didn’t see him though. Edith had turned around to look in the mirror and admire her tail some more.

  Stick Cat took the bag, walked a couple of steps back to the bathroom cabinet, and looked inside.

  Tuna Todd wasn’t there anymore.

  “He’s escaping,” Stick Cat whispered more to himself than Edith. She was primping her tail.

  Stick Cat picked up the bag with his mouth. He turned his head back and forth rapidly, shaking the bag. The collars and jewelry and silver pocket watch clinked and clanked together.

  Stick Cat waited.

  Edith admired her tail.

  And Tuna Todd didn’t come back.

  Stick Cat shook the bag again.

  After waiting several seconds, he shook the bag even more vigorously. The clinking and clanking were significantly louder.

  He waited.

  Edith admired her tail some more.

  Tuna Todd did not come back.

  Stick Cat shook the bag one more time—even harder.

  He waited.

  Edith admired her tail.

  And Tuna Todd came back.

  Chapter 17

  STUCK

  “My bag!” the burglar snarled as he stared through the hole. “Give me that!”

  Stick Cat dropped the bag just outside the cabinet door. He knew that spot was just inches out of Tuna Todd’s reach.

  The man shoved his hand through their hole again. He quickly realized he couldn’t reach the bag—and withdrew his arm.

  Stick Cat shook the bag again.

  Tuna Todd stared through the hole. He had a serious look on his face. He wanted to solve a problem.

  Stick Cat watched him. Even Edith came over from the mirror to watch.

  “I want that bag!” the man sneered, and pushed through the hole again.

  But this time he pushed through in a different way. This time, he got his shoulder through first and bent and squeezed his arm through after. By using this technique, Tuna Todd could reach a good bit farther.

  But Stick Cat saw it coming.

  He grabbed the bag and pulled it farther back.

  But not too far.

  Tuna Todd’s fingertips could reach out of the cabinet now. They wiggled and stretched about in a blind search for the bag.

&nb
sp; “Look at his fingers,” Edith said. “They look like little sausages.”

  Stick Cat turned his head sideways to look at Edith.

  “What?!” Edith said. “I’m hungry again. They just reminded me of sausages.”

  Now, there’s something important to know about this current situation. You see, when Tuna Todd shoved his shoulder and arm through the hole, he could not see what was happening. He had to just feel for the bag of stolen goods with his hand.

  This fact worked to Stick Cat’s great advantage.

  And here’s how.

  Stick Cat took that bag and pushed it just a little closer—just near enough that the robber could feel it with the very, very, very tips of his fingers.

  “Errgh!” the man screamed when he realized it was just barely out of reach. His fingers stretched as far as possible. His skin grew tight. He groaned, “Almost . . . got . . . it.”

  And Stick Cat pulled it a few more inches away.

  “Aaah!” the man said. He withdrew his arm and shoulder.

  Stick Cat stepped away from the cabinet door and motioned to Edith to follow him. She did.

  Stick Cat didn’t want Tuna Todd to see them and suspect they were moving the bag. They stood to the side—out of his view—and listened as Tuna Todd talked to himself.

  “Just a few more inches,” he whispered. There was clear anger, frustration—and greed—in his voice. “A few more inches and all that loot is mine.”

  Stick Cat and Edith remained out of sight. And while they couldn’t see what Tuna Todd was up to, they could hear him quite clearly.

  He grunted.

  And groaned.

  The wall creaked and strained against his effort and his weight.

  “He’s trying to push through!” Edith exclaimed.

  “I know,” Stick Cat said, and smiled.

  Just then both of Tuna Todd’s arms shot out of the cabinet. They reached the bag and grasped it.

  “A-HA!” Tuna Todd screamed. “I got it! I GOT it!!”

  At the exact moment Tuna Todd’s fingers grasped the bag, Stick Cat sprang into the air as high as he could. When he reached the apex of his arc—as high as the bathroom sink counter—Stick Cat did two crucial things. First, he checked to ensure his aim was straight and true. It was. He was directly above the bag—and Tuna Todd’s hands.

  Second, Stick Cat pushed his claws out from his paw pads.

  He plummeted down and smacked—claws first—into Tuna Todd’s hands.

  “AAAGGHH!”

  Tuna Todd let go of the bag.

  Stick Cat looked inside the cabinet.

  Tuna Todd was there. His head, shoulders, and arms were through the hole. The wall was cracked. His pushing had made the hole larger.

  “Why you—” the man raged.

  Stick Cat smiled at him—and pulled the bag a little farther out of reach.

  The man’s face was brick red with fury. He pushed forward harder, wriggling his shoulders and chest left and right.

  Stick Cat pulled the bag a bit farther away.

  Tuna Todd continued to wriggle for more than two whole minutes.

  He didn’t get anywhere.

  Edith was at Stick Cat’s side when she asked, “What’s he doing?”

  “He’s still trying to reach the bag,” answered Stick Cat. There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice. It was as if Stick Cat knew his plan was working.

  All of Tuna Todd’s efforts gained him very little additional reach—maybe two or three inches.

  And each time Tuna Todd advanced slightly, Stick Cat pulled the bag a little bit more—keeping it just out of reach.

  After eight full minutes, Stick Cat knew his plan had worked. He could tell by the way Tuna Todd’s expression had changed. At first, his face was angry and red. Then, for five or six minutes, he looked determined.

  But now—just now—Tuna Todd’s face had changed once more.

  He closed his eyes. His arms fell limp to the cabinet’s floor. His head hung.

  He was exhausted.

  Tuna Todd gave up.

  “We got him,” Stick Cat said. “He’s stuck!”

  “He’s not even moving,” observed Edith.

  “He’s too tired,” Stick Cat replied. “He can’t even lift his arms.”

  “He can’t move his arms?” Edith asked. This piece of information seemed very important to her. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  And then Edith did something that Stick Cat didn’t expect at all. It happened so fast that he didn’t even have a chance to stop her.

  Edith leaped into the cabinet.

  Stick Cat heard a sudden rustling sound.

  And as fast as Edith jumped into the cabinet, she jumped out just as quickly.

  She had something in her mouth.

  She dropped it on the bathroom mat, looked up at Stick Cat, and smiled.

  She said just one thing.

  “It’s tuna time!”

  Chapter 18

  TWO DIFFERENT PROBLEMS

  After they finished eating all the tuna that Edith had snatched from the thief’s shirt pocket, she and Stick Cat relaxed on the bathroom mat. The mat was close to the tub. Tuna Todd—still stuck securely in the hole between their bathroom cabinets—could not see them there.

  It had been a scary, invigorating, and tiring day.

  “We do still have a problem,” Stick Cat said to Edith. “You know what it is, right?”

  “I think so,” Edith said, and licked her whiskers. “We’re out of tuna. That’s it, right?”

  “Umm, no.”

  “What is it then?”

  “There’s a man stuck in our hole in the wall.”

  “It’s really quite ridiculous that he’s stuck in that hole, don’t you think?” Edith asked Stick Cat.

  “How so?”

  “Well, you know, stuck in a wall,” explained Edith. “There’s a reason he’s stuck. I mean, he should probably lose a few pounds, get some exercise, and make better choices at mealtime.”

  Stick Cat turned away from Edith then. He didn’t want her to see him smile. There was not the tiniest hint of irony in her voice. Edith didn’t make any connection whatsoever with that hole and being stuck there many times herself. Once Stick Cat had stifled his laugh and was certain he had control of himself, he turned back to face Edith directly.

  “You’re right,” Stick Cat said. “It is kind of ridiculous. But with him stuck in the wall we have a predicament on our paws.”

  Edith tilted her head. “What’s the problem?”

  “You can’t get back to your apartment.”

  “I see. Yes.”

  “We’ll be caught by Goose and Tiffany.”

  “Correct.”

  “They will probably plug up the hole.”

  “Right.”

  “We won’t be able to get together every day.”

  Edith nodded.

  “That’s a real problem,” Stick Cat said. He tried to maintain a calm expression and demeanor on the outside, but the prospect of not spending time with Edith made him incredibly sad on the inside.

  Edith looked directly at Stick Cat.

  She said, “I still think running out of tuna is a bigger problem.”

  Stick Cat smiled—but just for a moment.

  That’s because right then a clear and distinct noise came from the living room.

  The dead bolt lock on the door clicked.

  The doorknob turned.

  Goose was home.

  Chapter 19

  GOOSE MEETS EDITH

  It only took a few seconds for Goose to realize what had happened. There were clues everywhere.

  Stick Cat followed Goose around as he discovered each piece of information. Edith waited in the bathroom. She was fluffing her tail with her tongue. She wanted to look her best.

  The air-conditioning vent cover was on the living-room floor.

  The dresser drawers were all open in the bedroom and sock balls were scattere
d all over the place.

  The lid was off the cookie jar in the kitchen—and all his Paris, France, money was gone.

  Goose picked up Stick Cat and held him close.

  “We got robbed, I guess, hunh? Were you scared?” Goose asked. “None of this matters. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Stick Cat purred to let Goose know that he was fine. And then Stick Cat nodded his head toward the bathroom.

  “There’s more? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? They took stuff from my bathroom too?” Goose asked, and smiled a bit. He set Stick Cat down on the floor. “What did they take? My shampoo?”

  Of course, what Goose found in the bathroom was not a missing shampoo bottle.

  No.

  What he found were three very different things.

  The first thing he found was Edith. She was still primping in front of the mirror when Stick Cat and Goose walked in.

  “Who do we have here?” Goose asked when he saw her. He looked back and forth a couple of times between Edith and Stick Cat. “Hmm. This is getting stranger and stranger with each passing minute.”

  Edith turned toward Goose, batted her eyes, and returned to examining herself in the mirror.

  “This is a friend of yours, I assume?” Goose asked Stick Cat.

  Stick Cat purred.

  “Okay, then,” Goose said, and glanced toward Edith. “She sure is pretty.”

  Edith turned instantly and caught Stick Cat’s attention. “I like your roommate,” she said. “He has excellent taste. That is obvious.”

  “Yes, he does,” replied Stick Cat as he nudged the satchel full of stuff toward Goose. The bag bumped up against his right foot.

  This was the next thing Goose discovered.

  “What’s this?” Goose asked as he picked up the bag and opened it. He peered inside and saw his grandfather’s pocket watch, lots of loose money, Tiffany’s jewelry, and Edith’s collars.

  Goose shook his head.