A Father's Death
Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength. If we lose our hope, that's our real disaster.
-- Old Tibetan Saying
When Differel Van Helsing arrived at the end of the tunnel, she wasn't surprised to find it blocked. Because she was in pitch blackness, she couldn't see the door, but she had seen it numerous times before. It was a concrete slab, disguised on the opposite side to look like native rock, but on her side was plain cement. She put her back against it and pushed. It was counterweighted, so while massive it moved freely, but it grated against the ground, creating resistance. Fortunately, she didn't have to push it open very far, just enough to squeeze through. Once on the other side, she shoved it back into place to conceal the tunnel from any searcher.
She took her father's lighter out of her shirt pocket and lit it. Having been in total darkness for some time, she was temporarily blinded by the flame, and she held it over her head to give her eyes a chance to adjust. She knew where she was without having to see it: the dungeon beneath the keep inside the motte-and-bailey on her family's estate. However, she knew from previous explorations that it could be dangerous, especially from oubliettes and unstable walls and ceilings, and it was too large and labyrinthine, both from collapsed debris and the original layout of the cells and corridors, to stumble around in the dark. Even so, she knew her way through as long as she could see where she was going. Nothing had changed since her last visit, and soon she found the stairs that led up to the ground floor of the keep.
She extinguished the lighter as she emerged into the great central chamber. The keep was designed very much like a broch, essentially a hollow, double-walled, drystone tower with no roof, except that it had once had several wooden upper floors. Time had rotted most of the timber planks and beams, and she could see clear though to the open sky. It was just before noon, and the sun shone all the way down to the floor, illuminating every square foot. She had a long wait ahead of her, assuming Aunt Mandy didn't find her first.
I hope they're still searching house and grounds, or at worst the woods, she thought. Then she smiled. Assuming my little diversion worked.
Even so, she needed somewhere to hide, just in case a diligent searcher decided to check out the ruins on his own initiative. Fortunately, that was not her first visit, and she knew the perfect place. At some point in the past a part of the inner wall had collapsed, forming a mound of rock and rubble that contained a natural recess and opening because of the way the blocks had fallen together. Over the many years, continued weathering had filled the nooks and cracks with dust, cementing the blocks into place. To casual observation, it would simply look like a jumble of stones. In fact, the opening was partially obscured and far from obvious except by direct line of sight, and one would have to squat down and peer inside to see if anything was present. She had found it herself only by accident a couple of years before, during one of her frequent exploration forays. With any luck, if someone did search the keep, they wouldn't discover her, but she could see out into the keep, and so judge by the amount of light if it was dark enough to continue on.
A small tuxedo cat jumped up on top the mound and mewed at her. She recognized him as one of the stable cats. She had named him Mr. Mistoffelees, from the cat in T. S. Eliot's eponymous poem. Sometimes she talked to him, when she felt lonely, or sad, or frustrated.
He stared at her in an expectant manner, as if expecting a treat. I wish I had one. But his presence comforted her, as it often did.
"I should have expected you to show up," She scratched him behind the ears. He purred, closed his eyes, and rubbed his head against her hand. "But I'm afraid this isn't one of my usual outings. Would you stay with me, though? I'd really be glad of the company."
The cat meowed, and she took that as a yes. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled into the recess all the way into the back, then sat down with her back to the stone blocks. Fortunately, it wouldn't be a hard wait. She had used that spot before as a secret hideout for when she wanted to be alone, and had previously hidden a cache of candy bars and a couple of bottles of water. The only thing she would miss was a toilet. Still, she never thought it would save her life.
I wonder if all this was meant to be, like destiny or the Hand of God. Only time would tell, and only then would she know if she was meant to succeed or fail.
Mr. Mistoffelees followed her in and lay down beside her. Picking him up, she cuddled him in her lap, and he closed his eyes and began to purr. She thought back to when she first met him, seven years before, when he was a wee kitten, and she not much more mature....
Differel skipped down the steps of the terrace onto the patio. She was so excited she felt she would burst. Aunt Mandy was taking her on a picnic lunch to the woods, and she had promised to show her some Faeries. She had never seen Faeries before, except in her fairytale books, and the adult books Mandy had shown her. The text was difficult to read, full of long, unfamiliar, barely pronounceable words, but the pictures were very pretty. She wondered if the real Faeries would have no clothes on either, and she giggled at the thought.
Mandy had to talk to her father first, and she told her to wait in the garden. Ever since her last birthday, when she turned five, Mandy had allowed her to play there unsupervised. She had told her she was a big girl, so she could look after herself, but that she also had respon--, responsi--...what was that word? Re-spon-si-bil-i-ties; that was it. That meant there were certain things she had to do, and certain things she couldn't do, and it was up to her to follow the rules. She felt proud that Mandy trusted her, like an adult; Aelfraed and Mrs. Widget still treated her like a baby, and even her father thought of her as a little girl.
One of the rules was to stay away from the fountain unless an adult was with her. She understood why, too: if while playing she slipped and fell in, she could crack her head on the bottom and drown. She thought it was a silly rule. She knew the danger and how to be careful, but Mandy had explained that if she became excited she might forget, so until she proved she wouldn't, she had to obey. Still, she figured it was okay to get close, as long as she wasn't close enough to fall in.
As she approached it, though, she noticed something strange. One of the stable cats was pacing frantically back and forth along the rim, looking down into the bowl. Occasionally it would stop and bend down inside, as if it would jump in, but then straightened itself again and resumed pacing.
Curious, she wanted to see what it was looking at. There were no fish in the fountain; maybe there was a leaf or some other piece of flotsam. But she couldn't break the rule. She felt torn between her strong desire and her responsibility, and she realized what Mandy meant about proving herself. If she could control herself and obey the rules even when she really wanted to do something that seemed fun, then she would have shown that she could be trusted to look after herself.
As she watched, she began to hear a weak, thin cry, like a small animal. Maybe something had fallen in! A mouse, perhaps, or a small bird. That would explain the cat's excitement. Unable to stand it any longer, she sprinted up to the fountain. The cat heard her and turned around to face her. It crouched, flattened its ears, and bristled its tail as it moaned at her. Stable cats were not very friendly, but it did not run away as most did. She was disappointed none were friendly enough to let her play with them. She really wanted a pet, but it was one of the few things her father refused to talk about. She slowed and approached the rim carefully. The cat backed away, but did not try to leave.
The rim came up to her chest, so she was able to look over it and down inside. What she saw was a small black and white kitten, floundering in the water, as it struggled vainly to find a way to crawl out. She understood it must have been doing what Mandy warned her about, playing on the rim, when it slipped and fell in. It cried out as it scrabbled at the smooth stone, as if calling for help. She realized the adult cat must be its mother.
It was growing weak and having a hard time keeping its head above th
e water. She reached over the rim to grab it, but her arms weren't long enough. She had to get up on the rim to retrieve it. That meant she might fall in herself, but she felt she had to risk it. She couldn't just watch the poor thing drown, she had to try. She pushed up on the rim with her hands as she jumped, and she got her waist over the top. She kicked her legs up and over, and sat up, straddling the rim. She realized how stable that was, that as long as she didn't lean too far, she wouldn't lose her balance. The leg dangling on the inside was close enough to the water for her foot to just brush the surface, and the kitten caught the straps of her shoe and hung on. She reached down, holding on to the rim with the other hand, and grasped the kitten under its belly. It tried to cling to the sock, but she was able to pull it free and lift it out of the water, and then she took hold of it with both hands. She swung her leg over the rim and sat with both limbs dangling over the ground before she hopped off.
She placed the kitten on the patio as it mewed in a frantic tone, and then stepped back. Immediately the mother jumped down, nuzzled her baby, and began to lick it.
Differel felt a warm glow of satisfied pride at her accomplishment, and happiness that the kitten was safe. "You should keep a better eye on your baby," she scolded the mother cat. It looked at her with a half-lidded expression, as if telling her to mind her own business, and then it picked up the kitten by the scruff of the neck, turned, and trotted off.
"Differel!"
She turned and saw Mandy running towards her. She must have seen her from one of the windows. She had an anxious look, like she was afraid, but she looked upset as well. She realized she was probably in trouble, but for once she felt calm instead of afraid. She knew what she did was right, even if she was punished for it.
When Mandy reached her, she knelt down and grasped her by the shoulders. "Differe, honey, are you okay?"
"Yes, Auntie, I'm fine."
She gripped her shoulders hard. "I thought I told you never to play on the fountain!"
"You did, but I wasn't playing."
"Oh? And pray tell, what were you doing?"
"A kitten had fallen in, and I was rescuing it."
At first, Mandy showed her an astonished expression, but then it turned irritated, even disappointed.
"What have I told you about lying?"
"I'm not lying! There really was a kitten."
"Differel! What have I said?"
She sighed. Mandy could be very stubborn when she believed she was right. "You said, lying was a cowardly act, and when I do something wrong, I should admit to it and take my punishment like a lady. And I did climb on the fountain. But I'm not lying about the kitten!"
Mandy shook her head. "I am very disappointed in you, young lady. As punishment, you will spend the rest of the day in your room, and you will get no supper tonight."
Differel nodded, defeated. She knew it was useless to argue at that point. "Yes, Auntie."
"Just a moment, Miranda."
Mandy stood up and turned around, and Differel stepped to one side of her, but she had recognized the voice immediately. It was Father!
"Henry, please, you agreed to let me discipline her when needed."
"True, and I'm not usurping that, but Differel isn't lying. I watched the whole thing from my office. I saw the kitten fall in, and I had called the gardener to have someone come and fish it out before Differel rescue it. The mother cat removed it before you arrived."
Mandy looked embarrassed. "Oh, I see." She sounded contrite, too.
"Still, she did violate your rule."
Mandy smiled. "No, she did it for a good reason, and it shows
Feline Savior Page 2
