by Tom Watson
“It’s not?”
“No!”
“What’s the best part?”
“It’s when you eat it!” Edith explained.
“When do you eat it?”
“You eat it at the very end!” Edith exclaimed. She was so excited. It was as if she was reliving the ecstasy of every ice cream sundae she had ever consumed. “The very end!”
“Why do you eat it at the very end?”
“Because it’s the ultimate reward!” Edith said excitedly. “Don’t you see? At the very beginning that cherry is floating on top of the sundae. But as you eat the other parts—the ice cream, the whipped cream, the caramel sauce, and the finely chopped nuts—the maraschino cherry slowly descends through the distinct and delicious flavor layers. It gathers and accumulates each separate flavor on its glorious journey to the bottom of the bowl. By the time you’ve finished all the other ingredients, the cherry has made its slow, scrumptious plummet to its ultimate destination!”
Edith paused, sighed, and licked her lips before continuing.
“Throughout its travels,” she went on, “it’s picked up a whole collection of traveling companions. A few nutty morsels have come along for the ride. Some supple caramel sauce has joined the trip, attaching itself to the cherry’s bright red rind. Drippy drops of sweet whipped cream surround the cherry in a delicate, seductive goo. And then finally—finally, finally—the cherry flutters to its final stop at the bottom of the bowl through a liquid-y melt of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. Then—and only then—is it time for that final bite!”
“The cherry?” asked Stick Cat.
“Not just any cherry,” Edith replied. “Oh no, sir. The ultimate cherry!”
“The ultimate cherry?”
“The ultimate cherry!” Edith gushed. “It’s a sweet, syrupy cherry covered in whipped cream, caramel sauce, chopped nuts, and vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. It is a sweet, delicious treat that is covered in sweet, delicious treats!”
“Maraschino cherries sound delightful—and delicious,” said Stick Cat.
“They are,” answered Edith. She licked her lips some more. “They most certainly are.”
“And I’m glad Millie’s bright red cheeks reminded you of them,” Stick Cat added.
“Me too!” Edith exclaimed.
Stick Cat turned around. He picked up the purple-and-yellow necklace. He pulled a bunch of it nearer and close to Edith.
“Look what I brought,” he said to Edith.
“Grandma’s necklace?” Edith asked suspiciously. You could tell that her feelings were still hurt. She remembered that Grandma Cobb had entertained Millie—not Edith—with that necklace earlier. “How did you get it?”
“She pushed it through the doorknob hole a few minutes ago. And I went to get it,” he explained. He did not like to make things up, but Stick Cat thought it was important to add, “I’m pretty sure she wanted you to have it.”
“Really?” Edith asked. There was a hint of doubt in her voice.
“She said, umm, she felt bad about not paying enough attention to her grandkitty.”
“What else did she say?” asked Edith.
“Umm,” Stick Cat said as he thought quickly. “She said that maybe you would like to play with the necklace. And that, umm, she knew it was one of your favorite things.”
“Really?” Edith asked.
“Really,” Stick Cat said.
Edith grinned and said, “Good old Grandma.”
Stick Cat was happy to hear absolute forgiveness in Edith’s voice.
Edith picked up the necklace lovingly between her paws. It clinked and jingled. Its purple-and-yellow glass beads reflected and sparkled in the living room’s bright ceiling light. The strong metal chain that connected the beads glistened too.
Edith felt better.
And so did Millie. She was watching, listening, and settling down—as fascinated with that clinking, sparkling necklace as Edith was.
“Good old Grandma,” Edith whispered again.
“Grandma,” Stick Cat said. “She’s still stuck in the bathroom. How am I going to get her out?”
“Don’t worry about it, Stick Cat,” Edith pronounced as she played with the necklace. “I know how to get her out.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Excellent,” Stick Cat said. “Let’s hear it.”
Chapter 11
GIANT BALLOONS
“My plan all starts with Christmas,” Edith said without hesitation.
“Christmas?”
“Christmas,” confirmed Edith.
“But Christmas is months away.”
“That’s right,” Edith said. Apparently, this fact didn’t bother her or hamper her potential Grandma-rescuing strategy at all. Edith was still dangling, fidgeting, and rattling the necklace. And much to Stick Cat’s pleasure, Millie was still focused on it.
“So, what’s your plan? How does it involve Christmas?”
“Well, you know what happens at Christmas, right?”
“Santa comes?”
“No.”
“We put up a tree?”
“That’s not it.”
“We hang stockings?”
“Not even close.”
“We open presents?”
“Wrong, wrong, wrong,” Edith said. “Before all of those things. What happens?”
“I don’t know, Edith,” Stick Cat said. He really wanted to keep this moving along. “What happens before all of those things?”
“The Thanksgiving Day Parade, of course,” Edith answered. “That’s the real start of the Christmas season.”
“Okay,” Stick Cat said slowly. He didn’t see how the big annual holiday parade through the city could have any connection to rescuing Grandma from the bathroom. “How does your plan involve the parade?”
“Don’t you know?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
Edith shook her head. She seemed surprised that Stick Cat didn’t know how the Thanksgiving Day Parade months from now could help rescue Grandma Cobb from the bathroom today. “I guess I’ll just have to tell you then.”
“Please do.”
“Well, what’s the most important thing about the parade?” Edith asked.
“The marching bands?”
“No.”
“The colorful floats?”
“Try again.”
“The big crowds of people?”
“Give it another shot.”
“Santa Claus at the end?”
“Wrong again,” Edith said, and sighed. “You are really not giving very good answers today, Stick Cat.”
He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and said, “Maybe you should just tell me, Edith. I can’t wait any longer. I always enjoy hearing about your plans so much.”
“It’s the balloons!” exclaimed Edith. “The giant balloons!”
Stick Cat knew what Edith was talking about. He had watched the parade in late November every year since he and Goose had moved to the big city. Interspersed among the slow-moving floats and the loud, rhythmic marching bands were giant helium-filled balloons of every possible shape. There were huge inflatable cartoon characters, Christmas trees, and superheroes. The balloons bobbed and floated all along the parade’s route through the city. And Stick Cat could see the great balloons float down the street at the end of the alley. Some of them floated even higher than he was on the twenty-third floor.
So he knew what Edith was talking about. He just didn’t know how the giant Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons would help Grandma get out of the bathroom.
“Okay,” Stick Cat said again. “I know what those balloons are. They’re really awesome. But how do they help Grandma? What’s your actual plan?”
“Easy,” Edith said. “Grandma opens the bathroom window and climbs out on the ledge. Then when she sees one of those balloons floating by, she leaps off the ledge and lands on it. Then she jumps to a lower balloon and a lower one and so on
and so on. Until she reaches the street. Then she walks to our building and comes on up.”
“I understand,” Stick Cat said slowly, and nodded his head. He didn’t think Edith’s plan made any sense, of course, but he did understand it.
Edith added, “And then she comes in and fixes my lunch.”
“Oh, right,” Stick Cat acknowledged. “I forgot that the first thing she’ll do upon her arrival is fix your lunch.”
“That’s correct,” Edith said. “So, to get started, all Grandma needs to do is open the bathroom window and stand outside on the ledge. Easy-peasy, pumpkin pie.”
“Wait a minute,” Stick Cat said, and stood perfectly still. “Wait a minute.”
“What is it, Stick Cat?”
“What did you just say?” he asked, still completely motionless.
“Easy-peasy, pumpkin pie?”
“No, before that,” Stick Cat said. His eyes had a glazed faraway look in them. “How does your plan start?”
“Grandma stands out on the bathroom window ledge.”
“That’s it!” Stick Cat exclaimed, and bounded to the living-room window. When he got there, he hopped to the sill and pushed the window up.
“Stick Cat, what are you doing?”
“I know how to save Grandma!” Stick Cat yelled. “You did it again, Edith!”
Edith shrugged her shoulders and said just one thing.
“Well, of course I did. I’m Edith.”
Chapter 12
WHERE’S EDITH?
Stick Cat pushed the window up, leaned his head out, and saw the bathroom window ledge about three feet away. He thought he could jump to it.
He and Edith had, after all, jumped the other direction to old Mrs. O’Mahoney’s kitchen window ledge once. That was even farther than the bathroom window ledge. That was a couple of years ago when they saved Mr. Music after he got stuck in a big black grand piano.
Stick Cat looked down to the alley.
Twenty-three floors down to the alley.
His vision became instantly blurry. His head became instantly dizzy. And his stomach became instantly queasy. He ducked back inside.
“What are you doing, Stick Cat?”
“I was thinking,” he started to say. He stopped, looked down at the carpet, and shook his head to clear it. Then he continued. “I thought I’d jump from the ledge here over to the bathroom window ledge and get Grandma’s attention. I think she will let me in. It’s a fairly long jump for me, but I think she might be able to just step across. It would be dangerous, but maybe there’s some way we could make it safe or something.”
“And my whole jumping-from-the-window-ledge-onto-a-giant-balloon-during-the-Thanksgiving-Day-Parade plan is what gave you the idea?” asked Edith.
“Yes,” Stick Cat said. He had regained his steadiness and sense of equilibrium now. “Yes, it did.”
“Jeez,” Edith said proudly. “Sometimes I even surprise myself with my smartness.”
Stick Cat smiled at that.
“But now that I’ve looked down to the alley and thought about it, I’m not so sure,” Stick Cat said. “It’s a longer jump than I thought. And we are twenty-three floors up.”
Edith joined him at the window. They both propped themselves up, leaned out, and eyeballed the bathroom window ledge. Stick Cat sensed that uncomfortable feeling return to his stomach and came back inside. He dropped back to all fours and took a couple of steps toward Millie to check on her. She was holding the necklace and seemed fine for the time being.
“Yeah. The more I think about it, it’s way too dangerous to even try,” Stick Cat said as he turned back to the window. “Maybe we can come up with another—”
But Stick Cat didn’t finish his sentence.
Edith was gone.
Chapter 13
ACTION, STICK CAT, ACTION
Stick Cat lurched to the window. He was afraid to look down—afraid to see Edith plummeting to her doom.
That’s when Edith called, “It’s an easy jump! It’s no big deal.”
She was on the bathroom window ledge.
“How did you get over there?!” Stick Cat asked. He was so happy—and astonished—to see his best friend safe, sound, and completely calm.
“What do you mean ‘How did I get over here?’” Edith called back. “What do you think? Do you think I took a helicopter? Do you think I sprouted wings and flew? I jumped, of course. Duh.”
“I know you jumped,” Stick Cat said. “It’s just you did it so suddenly! We’re twenty-three floors up! You didn’t even think about it!”
“Thinking is for shmucks,” Edith said, and plopped back on her rear haunches. She allowed her tail to fall haphazardly over the ledge and began to groom her eyebrows with the back of her left paw. She was certainly quite comfortable.
“What?”
“I said thinking is for shmucks,” Edith repeated. “I am a woman of action. Action, Stick Cat, action! While you mope around thinking this and thinking that, I’m moving forward. Marching on! Taking action! You think too much, Stick Cat.”
“Maybe I do, Edith. Maybe I do,” Stick Cat said, and smiled. He liked this proud, sure, confident side of Edith. He just didn’t want to see that side of her demonstrated in such a dangerous way. He looked over his shoulder to check on Millie. She was fine. She was still occupied with Grandma’s necklace. As he turned back, he added, “I might be too cautious sometimes. And I might—”
Edith jumped back.
“Edith!”
“Action, Stick Cat! Action!”
“Okay, okay,” Stick Cat said quickly. “I get it. Please stop—”
Edith jumped to the bathroom window ledge again.
“Action!” she screamed joyfully in midair.
“Edith!”
She landed securely, turned around on that narrow ledge, and said, “Action, baby. That’s me.”
“Edith!” Stick Cat screamed. “Stop jumping back and forth!”
“Why?” she asked honestly. “It’s fun!”
“Because it’s, umm, my turn now,” Stick Cat responded slowly. He still didn’t want to make that jump, but he needed to get Edith to stop. She was plenty confident, but Stick Cat believed what she was doing was WAY more dangerous than she thought. “And I think Millie is missing you.”
“She’s missing me?!” Edith asked. Then she added, “Well, of course she is.”
She jumped over, climbed back through the living-room window, and hopped down to the carpet. Edith hurried toward Millie. Upon her approach, she babbled some sounds at Edith for a couple of seconds.
Stick Cat had to ask, “What did she say?”
“Millie said she saw me jump,” Edith answered without hesitation. “She is amazed at my ability, agility, strength, and prowess. She added that my bravery is unmatched and my daring unparalleled. And she marvels at my combination of power and beauty.”
“She said all that?”
“Yes,” Edith confirmed. “She’s quite the little chatterbox.”
Stick Cat grinned and said, “She certainly is.”
Edith tilted and pointed an ear toward Millie when she gurgled and cooed for another two seconds.
“And now what’s she saying?” Stick Cat inquired.
“She said that while you’re not quite as brave, powerful, and beautiful as I am, she still thinks you’ll be able to make the jump successfully.”
Stick Cat nodded his head one time and climbed out on the window ledge. “I’m going to go check on Grandma.”
He did not look down.
He looked across.
“Edith just did it. Twice,” Stick Cat whispered to himself. “You can do it too.”
Stick Cat closed his eyes.
He heard Edith’s voice echoing in his head. Action, Stick Cat. Action.
He concentrated his energy and leaned back on his rear legs.
He opened his eyes.
He stared at his target.
And Stick Cat jumped.
Ch
apter 14
FURNITURE DOESN’T WEAR JEWELRY
Stick Cat skidded a bit on the bathroom ledge’s concrete surface.
And then he stopped.
He made sure of his footing and then banged on the window with his front right paw.
In just a few seconds, the shower curtain flung to one side.
There was Grandma.
Staring right at him.
It took half a second of wide-eyed surprise and recognition—and then Grandma moved very quickly.
She pulled the shower curtain completely out of the way. She stepped into the tub to better reach the window. She unlocked the window and pushed it all the way open.
Stick Cat jumped into the tub, out of the tub, and onto the firm soft footing of the mat in front of the sink.
“How did you get over here?!” Grandma asked. She was shocked. She was still standing in the tub. She looked at the open window, back at Stick Cat, and then back at the window.
Stick Cat purred.
And Grandma leaned outside. She turned her head and saw the open living-room window.
“You jumped?!” Grandma asked after ducking back inside. “Seriously?”
Despite the wonderful firm footing, Stick Cat knew he needed to communicate his idea to Grandma. He hopped up to the edge of the bathtub, up to the windowsill inside, and returned to the ledge on the outside.
Stick Cat purred and looked deliberately back and forth from one ledge to the other three times. Grandma watched him closely the whole time.
Stick Cat stepped to the edge of the ledge.
He heard Edith in his head again.
Action, Stick Cat. Action.
And Stick Cat jumped back.
He hopped into the living room, ensured that Edith and Millie were still fine, and propped himself up to the window.
