Fur-miliar Felines

by Harper Lin

  “Well, yeah.” Bea hawed. “He was just asking if things were getting serious with Tom and stuff.”

  “And what did you tell him?” I squeezed her arm.

  “I said that I thought Tom was treating you the way you should be treated and that it takes a special guy to crack the crusty, scaly, barnacle-like shell that you reside beneath.”

  “As long as you said that, I’m good with it.” I chuckled.

  “Yeah, well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?” Bea laughed.

  But both of us stopped the second we saw the front door to the Brew-Ha-Ha. Giant spiderwebs of cracked glass spread from top to bottom. The fact that the metal frame was still intact was a miracle.

  “What in the world?” I yelled.

  “Really?” Bea groaned. “Vandalizing at Christmas? What is the world coming to? My mom is going to be so mad.”

  “Wait a minute.” I held Bea back for a second. “Is that blood on there?” I pointed to a corner of the glass near the bottom of the door that was no longer red but caked with a dry, rusty-brown substance.

  “Someone’s in there,” Bea hissed and pointed to movement behind the counter. “Mom?”

  Both of our hands were trembling as we tried to unlock the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Bea immediately called Jake while I ordered Treacle to stay with Bea.

  I ran around to the rear of the café to try and get in through the back door. The dumpster had been pushed in front of it.

  The putrid smell made my face crinkle. I swallowed hard as I grabbed the dirty handle of the dumpster, pulling with all my strength.

  The tiny wheels reluctantly began to swivel and roll enough distance for me to squeeze behind the massive green blockade.

  I yanked the door open and dashed inside.

  “Aunt Astrid!” I found her crouched behind the counter. “Wait, let me get Bea in here.”

  Standing on weak legs and with trembling hands, I unlocked the damaged front door. Bea raced up to her mother with tears streaming down her face.

  “Mom?” She took her hand. “Mama. Can you hear me?”

  “Bea. Cath.” Aunt Astrid managed a smile. “Yes. I can hear you just fine. Help me up.”

  “No. Don’t move,” Bea insisted. “Wait until the paramedics get here.” I stood back and watched as Bea held onto her mother. She felt along her arms and legs and placed her hand gently over her mother’s heart, breathing with her and asking Aunt Astrid whether there was pain or if she felt any discomfort.

  Bea’s healing was a little different from what the EMTs would do. She cried with relief to find her mother’s emotional skeleton was still very much intact. But when she looked at her mother’s knees, she began to cry.

  “Mama.” She sobbed. “What happened?”

  “After you left with Jake, I went down into the bunker.”

  “Wait, you were here alone?” My own eyes filled with tears, and I could tell by Bea’s reaction that she was thinking the exact same thing I was. “What about all that talk about us sticking together and not being alone, and here you are going against your own advice.”

  “I found it.” Aunt Astrid clutched Bea’s hand tightly. “The disturbance, the ripple I’ve been seeing. I found something in the books that might explain it.”

  “That’s just fine, young lady, but it doesn’t explain what went on here.”

  I could hear the sirens and knew that if Bea had called Jake, he was probably several blocks ahead of them. If my aunt was going to explain this whole thing, she had better start talking.

  “When I came upstairs, I thought I heard a cat.” She pointed toward the door. “It was dark, and I knew the temperature had dropped. I couldn’t imagine an animal being out there, so I cracked the door.”

  Bea took her hand, and I looked out the window, hoping Jake wouldn’t arrive until after she finished her story.

  “What was out there?” Bea asked.

  “At first I thought it was just the wind kicking up some flurries. But then I saw the eyes. They were huge.” Aunt Astrid trembled.

  Just then, Jake’s car came skidding to a stop outside the café. Leaving the engine running, he took one look at the door and gasped. He barged in. His eyes were wild with worry. Blake was not far behind him as he stepped out of the passenger side.

  “Where is she?” Jake wheezed.

  I pointed behind the counter. No words would come out of my mouth. No coherent thought would form in my mind. I was just standing there like a chump waiting for someone, anyone, to tell me what to do.

  Blake walked in wearing that same jacket and tie he seemed to always wear. He looked at me as if he hated himself for not having gotten there sooner or for not having the right comment to say. He looked around the café, at the door and the floor and the windows as he made his way to my side.

  I was prepared for him to ask some serious questions about what exactly happened or what we saw, but he didn’t. Instead, what he said made me cry.

  “Thank God you’re okay.”

  That was it. That was all it took, and Niagara Falls fell from my eyes. I don’t know why I started crying. My aunt was okay. She was talking, and if these guys had given us just a few seconds more, we wouldn’t have to wait to find out what happened to her. I let Blake put his arms around me, and I leaned into him, staining the lapel of his suit with my tears.

  When I pulled away, I saw a familiar red pickup truck pull up behind Jake’s car, just a second before the ambulance arrived from the opposite direction. Without thinking, I pulled away from Blake and ran to Tom.

  Tom held me close and whispered, “What happened?”

  I couldn’t help but spill everything I knew up to that point, including that Aunt Astrid had been working late.

  “Jake and Blake and you and the paramedics all showed up. She didn’t finish the story. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what broke the door or why.” I slipped my hand into Tom’s. “But I’m really glad you are here.”

  “I had said I was going to meet Jake first thing. I was talking about the disappearances of those kids when Bea called.” He squeezed my hand and began walking toward the café entrance. “Come on. Let’s see what we can find out.”

  I nodded and was happy Tom was there to make the next few decisions for me. When we stepped inside, Aunt Astrid was arguing with the EMTs.

  “I said I’m fine. I just lost my balance and scraped up my knees. Then that poor bird flew right into the door. I just had a dilly of a night.”

  “Mom. Don’t you want to go to the hospital just to get checked out?” Bea pleaded, looking at her husband. “Maybe you need to stay there overnight, just to be safe.”

  “No, Bea. Really, I scraped my knees on the steps up from the bunker. That’s all. I didn’t hit my head or anything, so I don’t know why you think I need to stay overnight.” Aunt Astrid dusted off her blouse. “I spent the night here. I’d like to be in my own bed tonight. Thanks.”

  “It’s just to make sure,” Bea said.

  “No, and that’s final.” Aunt Astrid was determined not to get into that ambulance. Frankly, I was relieved. She was her old fiery self, and whether or not she had the right to refuse medical attention, I wasn’t sure, but I did love hearing her argue. “I’m still your mother. And yours, too.” She scoffed at Jake. “I’m fine. Now just spray a little Bactine on these scrapes, slap on some Band-Aids, and let’s get these doors open for business.”

  The EMTs chuckled and did as Aunt Astrid asked. Within minutes, Jake had the plywood guys over to put up temporary plywood where the glass door used to be.

  “What is all this around the door?” Jake asked, looking down.

  “I was bringing up a bag of salt for Kevin last night. I dropped it when I was startled. That’s all.”

  Bea and I hadn’t even noticed the salt. But it was not only spilled across the threshold of the door, but along all the windows as well. No one noticed. No one but Bea and I, and we knew all too well what the salt was for. Apparently, it w
orked to keep whatever it was out, at least for now.

  With everyone still hanging around and the morning rush quickly approaching, Aunt Astrid wasn’t going to have any time to tell us what was out there last night. They didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave.

  Jake and Tom continued the conversation that had obviously been interrupted when Bea called this morning. The strange thing was that Blake was talking with my aunt. From what I could see, he wasn’t taking notes. Surprisingly, he was doing most of the talking. His head was down, and as he spoke, he looked at the floor, but when my aunt replied, he looked directly into her eyes. What were they talking about?

  Wrinkled Thing

  “Hey, Bea,” I whispered. “Do you have any idea what your mom and Blake are talking about?”

  “Probably you.”

  “What?” I yelped, grabbing everyone’s attention and pulling it toward my bright-red face.

  “Well, yeah.” She pulled me by my sleeve to turn my back to the group so no one could see our lips moving and possibly decipher this top-secret conversation. “He’s had those sad-puppy-dog eyes since you started dating Tom. But that’s often how things go. Nobody knows what they’ve got until it’s gone.”

  “But he never had me,” I whispered back, pulling my lips down in thought. “He started dating Darla Castellan. AKA the Devil.”

  “It doesn’t matter with a man.” Bea took the dustpan and bent down while I swept. “He can sing the blues to Aunt Astrid all he wants, and she will give him sound advice. But that advice might be to just move along.”

  Those words gripped the inside of my chest. Was that what I wanted? Did I want him gone and moved along? I couldn’t think straight. Not now.

  Kevin Baker, our culinary creative genius, arrived holding a paper bag full of fresh herbs and some fruit. He stood at the back door by the kitchen with his mouth hanging open. It didn’t take long for us to get him up to speed—the parts that we could tell him, anyway.

  “No worries, ladies. I’ll handle the kitchen.”

  I think that was the most I’d heard him say in my presence. I liked Kevin. He was quiet and kind and came up with some of the most amazing treats, and if he ever decided to leave and open his own café, I would follow his double white-and-dark-chocolate truffles anywhere. Now I was getting hungry.

  “Astrid, I’m going to come by tonight and pick you and Bea up and drive you home,” Jake said. “No arguing. I don’t care what needs to get done. You are coming with me, and I’m walking you up your porch and not leaving until I hear the dead bolt click on the other side of the door.”

  “Fine. Fine.” My aunt waved her hand as if she were waving a hankie at a departing ship.

  Blake walked over to me. Bea made like a banana and split, quickly going over to her mother.

  “Do you need a lift home, Cath?”

  “Cath. I’ll do the same,” Tom yelled as he and Jake stepped to the new plywood door. “We’ll get something to eat, and I’ll bring you home.”

  “Okay.” I smiled. But when I looked up at Blake, I saw frustration there. I didn’t like this. Some girls would be tickled pink to have two fellows engaged in a machismo contest over them, but this wasn’t for me. It was awkward and embarrassing, and to be honest, it was cruel. I didn’t like to see Blake like this. I didn’t like to see him in second place.

  “But he didn’t mind how you felt when you saw him with Darla.”

  I heard the familiar voice in my head and looked to see Treacle on the table, comfortably splayed out with his back feet and tail dangling off the edge.

  “And here I thought I was giving myself that great advice,” I told him.

  I looked back up at Blake and smiled as I reached out and gently patted his arm.

  “Thanks, Blake. Tom will take me.”

  What made this even worse was that Blake nodded with class and dignity. He walked over to Tom and Jake as if they were all just good old chums who would probably be meeting up this weekend for beer and paintball. I’ll never understand men.

  Finally, the EMTs, Jake, Blake, and Tom were gone. Kevin was in the kitchen, and we could hear the soft sound of his radio playing back there as he bustled about in his own world in order to make ours a little sweeter.

  “So?” I pulled out the chair at my aunt’s favorite table and motioned for her to sit. “Are you going to tell us what you saw or what?”

  She nodded and carefully eased into her seat. Bea and I both saw her wince as her knees ached.

  “Mom—” Bea started but was quickly interrupted.

  “I’m all right, Bea.” Her sharp blue eyes darted back and forth between us. “For now. For now, we are all right. But I’m afraid if we don’t get a handle on what is in this town, there will be more missing children.”

  “Children?” I mumbled.

  “As I was saying. I thought I heard a cat.” Aunt Astrid walked to the door and looked out onto the street. “I didn’t see anything and thought it might be hurt. So I unlocked the door and stepped outside. I walked out to the sidewalk, then I stepped to the edge of the street. Had I taken one more step, I fear I would have been too far from the front door to have made it back inside.”

  She pulled her sleeves down at the cuffs.

  “At first there were just eyes. They reflected the light as if they were sucking all of it in, making the street darker. I tried to see if this dimension had crossed with another, putting us in the same space for a short while. Sort of like what happens when people spot Bigfoot. But it was here. It was in this dimension, and it had no intention of leaving.”

  I sat down on one of the stools at the counter. Bea handed me a stack of napkins and some plastic silverware to start rolling together for our takeout orders. She got the coffee started as we listened.

  “It got bigger as I watched the eyes sink into soft, fleshy sockets. The creature, which had sounded like a kitten in trouble, meowed in front of me. Like it was so proud of the joke it had played to get me outside. How that delicate, harmless little voice could crawl from the throat of the beast that was forming in front of my very eyes, I don’t know.”

  “What was it?” Bea whispered.

  “It was a cat, all right. A hairless, wrinkled thing that sprouted jagged, broken claws on each paw. Its snout was pulled back in a grimace, baring two rows of sharp teeth, and its tail, if you want to call it a tail, was more like a hardened, dried leather whip.”

  I looked at Treacle, who was sitting up on the table and staring outside.

  “Its body was draped in that same wrinkled skin, except for the haunches, which seemed unnaturally bloated. Despite having no hair, it didn’t seem to mind the cold. Steam billowed from its open maw, and as I stared, I saw it slowly pulling one thick leg tighter underneath itself. It was getting ready to pounce.”

  “Aunt Astrid, does this thing have a name?”

  “I tried to find out. As fast as I could, I turned and ran, but I got tangled over my own feet. That’s what caused the scuffs.” She tapped both of her bandaged knees and shook her head. “But I was up and running faster than I ever imagined. I mean, these old bones didn’t fail me. As soon as my hand gripped the handle, I swear I could feel its breath on the back of my neck. Once I was across the threshold, I yanked the door shut and snapped the dead bolt. When I looked up, it slammed headfirst into the glass.”

  My aunt stopped for a moment and shook her head.

  “I knew there was something in Wonder Falls that was causing a disturbance. I could see ripples of it. I felt the presence, but it was disguised as uneasiness, like an electric hum from a transformer or something. You know it’s there, and it bothers you, but you can’t quite find the source, and even if you did, how would you stop it?”

  “Does that mean you are feeling better?” I asked carefully.

  “If you are asking, Cath, do I think I’m dying? The answer is no. Well, we’re all dying, but do I think I’ll be leaving you soon? Not if I can help it.”

  “Thank goodness.�
� I sighed and looked to Bea for a nod of relief but only saw her back. She sniffled, and I knew she was crying with relief. I left her as she chopped veggies and walnuts for her special salads.

  “I wanted to go to the bunker. I thought that I was safe inside, but this thing was not interested in sitting and waiting like most cats do. It was going to find a way in.”

  “What did you do?” Bea asked, finally turning around and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

  “Before or after it rammed the door a second time? Well, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of salt. I sprinkled it around, as you can see.” She pointed to the door and the windows.

  “Why do you think it didn’t smash through the windows? They would have been a lot easier to break, I’d think.” Bea asked.

  “I’m sure he would have if I hadn’t whipped up a binding spell on the spot. Since I didn’t know what kind of creature this was, I couldn’t constrain it and hope those constraints would hold. But I could bind the windows.” My aunt swallowed hard. “I could tell by its face it wasn’t expecting that. Well, two can play the game of deceit when it’s life or death hanging in the balance.”

  I looked at my watch. It would be another half hour before we cracked the door. The café was already filled with the smell of baking pie, some kind of sweet gingerbread thing, and coffee.

  When I turned to check on Treacle, he was sitting on a chair, staring out the window.

  “When it tried to crash through the windows, they became pliable. They’d stretch and bend, but they would not break. The thing made sure I didn’t get to the back exit. I couldn’t leave through the front, obviously. Although I was terrified as it stared at me with those sickly, glowing yellow eyes, I knew I couldn’t leave to go to the bunker. I was afraid it might break through my spell. So I stayed here. I dodged its paws, which pushed and scratched and tried to puncture the glass. Hiding behind the counter until the sun came up was my only option. I just prayed the beast would be gone before you girls arrived. And it was.”

  Bea looked at me, then her mother, and then me again.