A Villa in Sicily: Capers and a Calamity

by Fiona Grace

  She shrugged apologetically. “But the truth is, he’s not very happy here.”

  Obviously. And who would be, if your house was overrun by cats? As much as Audrey loved animals, this was too much. “Have any animals here been spayed or neutered?”

  She nodded. “Some. I lose track. The vet here has been doing it, but he loses track, too.”

  “Matteo mentioned you have a vet here. Where is he?”

  “He comes in once a month here, but even if he came in every day, it wouldn’t be enough. There are so many.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s no good.”

  “So you just don’t have enough cages for all the animals,” she mused.

  Vito laughed derisively. “Oh, we do. Nonna doesn’t think it’s humane to keep them locked up.” He rolled his eyes.

  Audrey’s eyes widened. “What?”

  She shrugged. “I know it seems strange, but I just don’t think animals are meant to be in cages all the time. So I let them go in and out as they please. But at night, they have a place to stay . . .”

  “Okay,” Audrey said, hardly able to believe she was hearing this. She didn’t like putting them in cages either, but some things were necessary to control the population and prevent them from hurting themselves. Her head ached, probably from the stuffiness inside. She closed her eyes and started to massage her temples. “You leave the cages open? All the time? Like it’s a hotel or something?”

  She nodded. “Yes. The animals love it. That is why they keep coming back to me! I treat them with so much kindness, and they give it back to me.”

  “Sabina,” Audrey said gently. “It might seem humane, but it’s actually not, because it’s increasing the stray animal population on this island. That’s why many of these animals are malnourished and not getting enough to eat. If you keep them in cages, letting them out only sporadically, it will help tremendously. They actually like having a place of their own to sleep and stay safe. Then you can keep track of them and which ones are spayed and neutered and sick. You understand that, right?”

  “Well . . . I suppose. But in twenty years, I’ve never done such a thing. Cages are cruel.”

  Vito groaned. “Nonna. It’s like I’ve been telling you. Listen to this lady. She’s right.”

  Audrey smiled at him gratefully, but he didn’t make eye contact. With that big mop of hair, she wasn’t even sure the kid had eyes.

  The woman drummed her hands on the table, thinking. As she did, Audrey looked over and noticed a ring of cat feces on the table, right near her elbow. Now she felt sick.

  “Well, if you say so . . .” the woman said, her voice leaking doubt. “What do you suggest we do?”

  Audrey rubbed her hands together. “First, I’d like to get the animals into their cages. Then we’ll go through each one and give them an exam, to see what we’re dealing with. Sound good?”

  Vito nodded, finally seeming interested. “Hell yes. I’ll help. Anything we can do to get these animals out of my hair, once and for all.”

  “Great.” Audrey took the hair tie from around her wrist and put her hair in a ponytail. Then she clapped her hands. “Let’s go. We have some work to do.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  In the yard, Audrey navigated around little packages of cat poop as she tried to find the last few remaining cats. She’d seen one heading out this way—a young calico with green eyes. “Come on, Patches. Here, Patches!” she called, stooping to look underneath an old picnic table.

  No Patches.

  She took a deep breath and looked around. Here, on the hill behind the shelter, there was hardly any breeze. And even though the sun was fading, it was still scorching. Just beyond a line of cypress and olive trees, she could make out the sea in the distance. She hoped it would give her cooling vibes, but it didn’t. It had to be well over eighty degrees even in the shade, but there was very little of that in the yard.

  Very little shade, and a lot of poop packages. It was a big minefield.

  Vito came by, holding a white cat with a spot on its tail. “I got Dot,” he said, with a sheepish smile, which he quickly erased. He clearly didn’t want anyone getting the impression he was enjoying himself. Gradually, he’d started talking to her, first telling her where to find different animals, and later, pumping his fist whenever he nabbed one. He didn’t complain, even though he had scratches on his hands and arms.

  “Good job!” she said, patting him on the back. “Put him in the last cage on the top right and I’ll be in there in a second.”

  “On it,” he said, heading inside. He was sweaty, too, his face red, but he had been a huge help. He’d been a normal moody teenager, at first, and Audrey had worried he’d constantly be giving her attitude. But he was coming around. He obviously wanted to fix this runaway cat problem just as much as Audrey did.

  The shelter was getting better, too. For cats, and for humans.

  A little bit of clean-up, and the yard could actually be someplace people could go, too. There was a barbecue and a picnic table there, but both were covered in excrement and looked as if they hadn’t been used in ages.

  Poor kid, she thought as she walked through the yard. I can’t imagine living in a place like this. I wonder where his parents are.

  Suddenly, out across the fenced yard, Nick hissed. She’d let him out when they first started rounding up the animals, because he’d always proven to be a big help in doing that. He was like a regular sheep dog when it came to getting cats to fall in line. She credited her trusty pet fox in herding most of them; he’d been a lifesaver on more than one occasion before.

  She looked over and found him standing, frozen, his ears perked up as his gaze narrowed on a spot between a couple of large bushes.

  Sure enough, when she stooped, she could see Patches’ little white paws. The cat mewled in fright. Audrey got on her knees and reached a hand out to him. “Here, kitty kitty,” she said. When that didn’t work, she grabbed a handful of dry cat food and held it out.

  Gradually, the kitty came out, sniffing, and came close to the food. Audrey let him nibble it a little before scooping him into her arms.

  Breathing hard, she looked around, and happily found that there wasn’t another cat in sight. Sure, there were more out there, probably a lot more, but it was a start.

  Done, she thought, wiping the sweat from her brow. In fact, it was so hot today, that even though the sun was now setting, her clothes were drenched with perspiration.

  As she was walking across the yard to place the last cat in its cage, Matteo came over and smiled at her. He’d been strangely absent the entire time, and looked as though he’d been spending time in air conditioning—his jacket was unrumpled and there were no sweat stains on his shirt. He held up a bottle of water. “Thought you’d be thirsty so I got you some refreshment!”

  She nodded. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that. Let me just take care of this fellow.”

  He looked around. “Looking much better already!”

  “I know. We just put the animals in their cages,” she said, leaning in to whisper, “I think Sabina might be a bit of a cat lady. They have an aversion to keeping animals in cages and would rather let them have the run of the place. Unfortunately, that leads to unsafe conditions for both the humans and the animals. But I think she understands now.”

  Audrey went inside, and as she expected, Matteo didn’t follow. Her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket and found a text from Concetta. Locking up now! Everything went great.

  Hmm. Audrey had hoped for more of an update than that. She’d had two check-ups, both routine, but she thought for sure that Concetta would have questions about them. Plus, it was barely five-thirty. Audrey never locked up before seven, because there was always something to do. Was Concetta really more efficient than she was?

  Stop worrying about it, Audrey. She’s got it under control. Everything is fine.

  Inside, the cool air was welcome. Though the building itself had a large room equipped with almost one hundred cages,
it still wasn’t enough for all the animals. They’d had to double them up. It was definitely crowded. She put Patches into the last cage, let out a sigh of relief, and wiped her brow as she closed the door. “We did it! I think I want to celebrate!”

  Vito pumped his fist. “Yes!”

  “You poor thing. It must’ve been terrible for you,” she said to him. He did look like he’d just been through a war, with all those cat scratches on him. She motioned him over and got out the first aid kit, and went to work on applying antiseptic to the wounds.

  He snorted. “Yeah. I’ll say. There were cats everywhere. I kept telling her she needed to do this, but she wouldn’t let me. They were everywhere. Even upstairs. Pissing and pooping all over the place. Every time I ate, there was cat hair in the food. It was gross.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  He shrugged. “My father’s kind of a jerk. I don’t get along with him. And my mom travels a lot. She’s an actress. They met in Hollywood.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. They’re pretty self-obsessed. So believe it or not, as bad as the cats are, they’re better than my parents.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t be. Besides the cats, Nonna mostly leaves me alone. And this thing, with the cats . . . if it keeps going? I think you’ll have made my life one hundred percent better.”

  Audrey smiled at him sadly. “What are the chances your grandmother will keep them in their cages?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran his hands though his hair, and for the first time, Audrey could see his eyes. They were bright blue. “But I’m going to try to get her to. When I’m not at school. Thanks, Doctor.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” she said, looking around at the many cages. “But the work here has only begun. We need to look the animals over, see which ones can be neutered, and make sure they’re all healthy.”

  “I’ll help you,” he said, almost too readily. He was such a changed kid, she couldn’t help but like him.

  “That would be amazing, Vito. Thank you,” she said, smiling. “And here, when I first met you, I thought you didn’t care very much about the animals.”

  “No, actually, that was why I wanted to live here, at first. I wanted to be a vet. I like cats. But not this many of them,” he said as she finished applying a bandage to one of his scratches. “I don’t know. Seeing you, and how much you care . . . it’s kind of cool. Most people in the world don’t care.”

  “Oh?” She wondered if he was talking about his parents. There seemed to be no love lost there.

  “Yeah. Some people on this island don’t give a crap at all about these animals, and would just rather see them die.”

  “Really?” So he wasn’t talking about his parents. That’s an awfully negative view to have. I wonder where he got that from. “Who?”

  “Some people who come around here. Sometimes I think that if they could drop a bomb on this place and obliterate it, they would.” He shrugged.

  “Your grandmother isn’t like that.”

  “No. She’s not. She’s on the opposite end of the spectrum. She cares too much. The cats drove me crazy, but I didn’t want them to die,” he said, swallowing. “That just seems too cruel.”

  “I agree,” she said, snapping the lid on the first aid kit. “You’re all set. There’s more work to be done. But Rome wasn’t built in a day. Now, what do you say we go find your grandmother and show her all the progress we’ve made?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Oh, my,” Sabina said as she toured the shelter, stepping through as if she’d never been there before. Wringing her hands, her brow furrowed, she looked more concerned than delighted. “And you’re sure that they’re quite happy, caged up like this?”

  “Quite sure,” Audrey said, smiling at Vito.

  The door opened, and Matteo appeared. His nose twitched from the stagnant air. He handed her the water, blinking at the tears in his eyes. She unscrewed the cap and took a long, satisfying gulp.

  “It’s a little late,” Matteo said, looking around. “And I have to get back to the family. But this place looks great. Thank you, Dottore.”

  “Well, I really should do the check-ups, and—”

  “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  “It shouldn’t. But I guess if there’s no other choice. Thank you,” she said to Sabina and Vito, looking around for her things. She grabbed her pet carrier and motioned for Nick to jump inside. Of course, he hesitated. “Come on, Nick. I’ll be back tomorrow to give them check-ups.”

  Sabina clapped her hands. “If you really want to do the check-ups tonight, Vito can drive you back to town afterwards. That’s no problem. But the least we can do for you is give you dinner right now.” She nudged her grandson. “Right, Vito?”

  Audrey’s face fell. After the stories she’d heard, and the coffee . . .

  Vito groaned. “Nonna, I don’t think she likes food with cat hair in it.”

  “Oh, you, mascalzone,” she said affectionately, reaching up to ruffle his hair. She couldn’t quite reach, so she only managed to get the side of his head. “I meant, please, Dottore, let us treat you to dinner at a local place downtown. Pietro’s. You will like it very much.”

  Audrey smiled. “I would like that.”

  Matteo nodded. “Yes. Great place. The best. It is the one I showed you when we arrived, my uncle’s. And only a short walk from your hotel. And you can have some of the pasta alla Strombolana I was telling you about. You’ll never have anything better anywhere, I promise!”

  Sabina nodded. “That dish is great. I agree.”

  Audrey made a mental note of the name of the dish, even though she had no idea what it was. “I’ll—” She paused when she saw Vito elusively sticking his finger down his throat, miming gagging. “I’ll think about it. Shall we go?”

  Vito nodded. “I’ll drive.”

  *

  The ride to the restaurant was mostly downhill, and Vito had a heavy foot. By the time they were on level ground, near the harbor, the lone bottle of water that had been swirling in Audrey’s stomach had threatened to come back up numerous times. When he finally pulled to the curb and braked, Audrey lurched forward, thankful for seatbelts.

  Vito cut the engine and checked the dash. “Think that’s a new record, huh, Nonna?”

  Sabina smiled and said to Audrey, “He dreams of competing in those car races. Vroom-vroom.”

  Audrey peeled her fingers off the armrest. She wished they’d told her that before she got in the car with him. “Well, I think you’re well on your way,” she said.

  Audrey stepped out. The second she did, she noticed a cat scampering down a dark, narrow alley with a soft meow. Turning, she saw another sitting on the sidewalk, looking ready to pounce at something, probably a mouse.

  They’re everywhere, she thought.

  The restaurant, Pietro’s, was a small building, right on the corner. There was a small area on the sidewalk with bistro tables, and patrons were sitting out, enjoying the warm night, as the sun set over the harbor. Little candles glowed at each table. The smell of roasted garlic and olive oil was heavy in the air. It was adorable, yet another part of the dream she’d had before moving to this part of the world. Even Mussomeli had nothing so romantic.

  She smiled as they stepped up to the host’s stand, and her stomach growled audibly. She clutched it as Vito laughed, and explained, “I’m starving.”

  Sabina patted her hand as the host seated the three of them at an outdoor table. “You came to the right place for that! A bottle of your house red, Giuseppe!”

  The host nodded and headed away. Audrey sat down, inhaling the bracing, briny sea air, and opened the menu. Sure enough, the special of the day was pasta alla Strombolana. Possibly the special of every day, considering the menu looked well-worn. “What does this pasta have?”

  “Oh, all good stuff. Spaghetti. Olives. Tomatoes. Sea urchins,” Sabina said, spreading her napkin on her lap. “You will like it.” />
  “Sea urchins?” That was something she’d definitely never had before. But she decided to risk it. Closing her menu, she said, “So how did you come to be owning a shelter?”

  “Oh.” She patted her chest. “I live in that house up on the hill all my life. Just me and my Orlando, my husband. And Rosa, my daughter, Vito’s mother. She move away many years ago, and then it was just us two. Empty nest. Orlando bought me a cat. I call her Pepe. I loved her more than anything. And when my Orlando passed on, I decided to get more cats. After a while, I decided I wanted even more. And then I see all the cats on the island, needing help. I start taking them in. Turned his workshop into a kennel. Now I do what I love, every day.”

  “Yes, but it must be exhausting, with so many of them.”

  She nodded. “It is,” she admitted. “I think your way of organizing will help. I just . . . suppose I was afraid to do it. But you’re the veterinarian. You know your stuff.”

  The waiter, who was just setting a glass in front of each of them, said, suddenly, “Who? Veterinaria?”

  Sabina said, “Si. Dottore Smart is visiting us from America.”

  He’d been about to pop the cork on the wine, but he stopped and gaped at her. “Oh!” He started to speak in Italian, so fast that Audrey couldn’t even translate a single word.

  Sabina leaned in. “He says he has a puppy that is sick and is hoping that you can come and visit him while you are here?”

  “Oh? What is wrong?”

  Sabina translated for the man, and relayed his response to her. “He seems to think it might be something bad, maybe a rash, because he doesn’t eat or drink very much. And his hair is falling out.”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes. Yes, of course. Just let me know your address, and I’ll stop by as soon as I can? Perhaps tomorrow.”

  Once again, Sabina translated. The man nodded and smiled brightly. “Si, si! Grazie!” and rushed away without pouring their wine.