by Steve Vernon
Marta turned redder.
“A-and this is his sister, Nikki. They came over to see the cats.”
“Yes! Marta, you know the pet rule—Baba’s it until she passes.”
“Oh, I know,” said Marta. “But, see…these…” her pink-mittened hands flapped around as she flibbered and flabbered with her mouth.
“I asked Marta if we could keep the cats here—Just for a little while! My sister, um, she needs these cats, but our family’s staying in a cousin’s RV right now and we can’t have any pets until we get a new apartment.”
Mrs. Rivera’s hand went to her lips. “I see.” Patch’s head peeped out.
“Knock knock,” said a deep voice.
Patch’s head retreated beneath me.
“What’s the holdup, mi amor?” said the man to Marta’s mother. “Did I miss a Christmas box, please-tell-me-I-didn’t?” But his eyes were taking us in.
“No, Sam. Marta’s friends have some new pets who’ve been staying in our shed.”
“Oh!” said Marta’s dad. “That explains Baba’s barking a couple nights back. But she’s hardly made a peep since then, except at the UPS man…”
“We introduced them,” said Marta. “She likes the kitties.”
Mr. Rivera smiled. “Well, I’ll be. Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.”
“They just need a place to stay for the holidays,” said JP.
“Until they get an apartment,” said Marta.
“Oh? When are you moving in?” asked Mr. Rivera.
“Soon! Soon,” said JP. But from the look the Riveras exchanged, they could smell the lie.
“Well, we’re not ones to throw out strays on the holidays,” said Mr. Rivera, “but Marta’s grandma is taking us on a three-week cruise starting the day after Christmas.”
“Oh, yeah!” said Marta.
“So you’ll need to find them housing after the twenty-fifth. Think you can do that?”
“Oh, yes!” nodded JP, but I could smell the nerves in his sweat.
“That all right, Mama?” Mr. Rivera asked his mate.
“I guess so. I mean, I had no idea you even had them out here! And you’re taking care of their poo-poos?”
“Yes, Mrs. Rivera,” said JP.
“Yes, Mom,” said Marta.
“Then I guess we can work with that. But honey, don’t you want to go to the movies?”
“Well…” Marta’s eyes flitted from me, to her friends, to her parents.
“Senior team meeting,” said Mrs. Rivera suddenly. The door shut behind them.
“‘Senior team meeting’?” said JP.
“Code for parent talk. Me and Baba are junior team members. What? Your family doesn—”
“No.” JP stifled a smile with his hand, but it wasn’t much use, the grin crawled out on either side of his fingers.
“NO-oh,” echoed Nikki, rolling her eyes. She began patting the floor. “Cowboy. C’mere.”
He scooted around beneath me, ready to go to her, but the door opened again and he froze beneath me.
“Marta, would your friends like to join us for our Christmas movie?”
Marta grinned with all her teeth. “They can come?”
“If they want. And if they get permission from their parents.”
“Just Mom,” muttered JP.
“Guys? Do you?” said Marta.
“A movie?” Nikki stared at Marta with something like awe. “You want me to go to a movie? With you?”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“I…I talk funny.”
“Pssh!” Marta waved her away.
“I’ll be right with you, Nikki,” said JP. “We can check in on the cats after.”
I yawned to show how relaxed Patch and I were. We got this, guys. Go have fun.
“Nnn…okay!”
“Can I use your phone, Mrs. Rivera?”
“Their mother must have said yes,” I told Patch later after my bath.
“Wow, movies take a long time,” said Patch.
“Yes. I like it better when they come back from the library. They bring books back from there, which means they have to sit down. And if there’s room for a book near their lap, there’s room for a cat on it.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Their hands taste like butter after the movies sometimes, though. Pros and cons.” I stretched.
“If things are this nice with my Nikki now…what will they be like when I’m living with them?”
“Beyond better. It’s like what Baba said: you can’t even dream of it now. But you’re on the right track, kit.”
The question was, how were they going to keep him? They would have to find a new place to live, and that was a big ways trickier for a human family than a cat. I could remember moving with Damien and Marie, before they had Gina. What a ball of chaos! My favorite things and spots all replaced with boxes I couldn’t sit inside…and then a long car ride…
Creeeak.
The children bounded into the shed. Patch headed towards his hidey hole until he saw Nikki’s outstretched palms. Then he toddled right up to her to be picked up.
“Fuzzy Christmas, Cowboy!” she said.
Someone scrubbed my shoulders. “Fuzzy Christmas, Bronco,” said Marta.
“JP. JP. Tell them the good news. Tell the kitties,” said Nikki.
“You try, Nikki. See what you can remember.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Fffiiine.” Nikki directed her words to Patch. “Tomorrow afternoon, Marta’s dad is taking us to the CHRISTMAS FAIR. And we get to take you kitties! And…and…Baba…Baba something.”
“What’s Baba going to help the kitties do?” Marta asked.
“…Oh! That’s it. Baba will help you wear leashes.”
Auggh, no!
“’Cuz you need a leash, Cowboy!” She slowly wagged her finger in his face. He tried to sniff it. “No running away.”
Ha. Maybe only Patch would have to wear one.
“We’ll work on that in the morning,” said Marta. “Before Baba’s nap.” Then she handed a funny bag to Nikki. It was stiff like an upright box, but it had handles like Gina’s library book bag. And it was a strange color—pink, but clear, like it was made of gummi bear stuff.
“And if you get tired, you can sit in here.”
Then, without any ceremony of coaxing, Nikki plopped Patch into the bag!
Even I tensed along with the other children as Patch looked out as us from the confines of the pink gummi bag. He’d scratched and spitted at the backpack bag, and I’d been in it waiting for him!
Patch pawed the pink-tinted walls, checked the view out each side, then curled up, awaiting Nikki’s next move.
“Whoa!” said Marta. “I never dreamed a jelly bag could be a miracle!”
I checked my blaze on habit. But of course that miracle stripe was long gone, and I hadn’t felt anything funny when Patch entered the jelly bag.
I went over and stood up, looking into the bag. “Kit, you okay?”
“Sure. It’s not dark in here. I can see everything!”
Nikki’s hands gently scooched me away. She picked up the bag with Patch still in the bottom of it. Slipping it on, she looked back over her shoulder in a fancy pose.
Ka-chink! went Marta’s rectangle. “So chic!” she said.
“Oo-la-laa!” said Nikki.
“Vut a fancee kittay, Madame!” said Marta. Then both girls laughed. From inside the bag, Patch raised an eyebrow at me.
No clue. I shrugged back.
Then I motioned over my own shoulder, where JP watched his sister with a happy smile. But does it matter when they’re all so happy?
That night the children tucked us in without moving the Easter box, promising to come back in the morning. They told us not to be afraid of the leashes.
Hm, I thought. We’ll see how that goes, Lord. But You kept the lions from eating Daniel, so I guess if
anyone can get a couple of cats to take leashes, it’d be You.
Still, I’d love to see how He was going to do it.
19
“This isn’t working,” said Marta the next morning.
I lay perfectly still on the dusty carpet, stifling sneezes, hoping if I were still enough, this silly thing they’d wrapped around me would go away.
“Is it really that bad?” Patch asked, sniffing my nose.
“Of course it ain’t! He’s just an ol’ cat, and ol’ cats are harder to teach new tricks than us ol’ dogs!” said Baba. Her tail thumped the carpet, sending out a wave of dust my nose couldn’t ignore. I sneezed.
“Bless you, Bronco,” said Marta. Nikki stuck a cat treat in front of my nose. That was her job—to give me a treat every time I moved in this contraption.
I closed my eyes, ignoring the treat. Lord, I want to be a good example for Patch, but this feeling—it’s not natural! Although it was better than the walking collar Gina had put on me—once. That had felt like it was going to strangle me any minute. This just felt weird.
“Ol’ MeMe’s been walking on leashes longer’n you been alive,” the old hound told Patch. “You got to start young.” She began pawing Marta. “Somebody get it off the ginger and put it on the li’l one. He’ll pick it up in no time.”
“All right, Grandma,” said Marta, thumping the dog on her back. “We’ll do it your way.” Marta pushed the old dog away and undid the cloth jacket things around my neck and tummy. Scrotch scrotch, they went as they pulled apart. Once free, I leaped onto JP’s shoulder and pitoned my claws into his sweater.
“You’re wearing him to the fair!” said Nikki. She laughed like there was no better joke. Me, I liked it up here. And I certainly wasn’t going to run away—I had a job to do!
“OK, Patch, your turn…” said Marta, approaching him with the red vest.
Patch froze. “Uhh, Gingersnap?”
“Marta, Marta,” said Nikki. “Cowboy’s my kitty. I’ll dress him.”
“You sure? He might scratch.”
Nikki gave her such a glare! Marta handed the vest over. She offered her palm to Patch, who came right over. She offered him the vest to sniff.
“It didn’t hurt, did it?” he asked.
“No.”
“Heavens, pup—pardon me again, Sir Angel—leashes don’t hurt ’less you’re fooling about with ’em. Stay still and let her put it on you. And that ain’t even a leash proper, I reckon that’s like a Christmas sweater, and those are darnright pleasant to wear in this chilly weather.”
Nikki had wrapped it around Patch. Scrotch, scrotch, went the fasteners as it closed around him. I leaned over to watch. Patch lay still for the moment.
“Looks like it fit him better than you, Tom Angel. Now go on and tell me that don’t feel like a hug. You can’t, can you? ’Cuz it done feel just like a hug, like my Christmas sweater.”
“It’s…different. But not bad.”
“Can you stand up? Stand up for MeMe,” said the dog.
“Stand up for Nikki,” I said.
“Mewf!” The kit threw himself on all fours. Treats showered down at his feet.
“GOOD BOY!” crooned Nikki. “GOOD GOOD BOY!”
Patch snarfed the treats down. Breakfast—and I hadn’t gotten any. Good thing I didn’t have to eat anymore. But the treats sure smelled tasty.
“There you go. See how happy you made your pack! Go on, now walk a little!”
Patch moved his arms and legs like they were branches, claws hooking into the carpet. Nikki patted his rump while sticking her three-treat-deep palm in front of his nose.
“GOOD COWBOY!”
“You look like you caught my rheumatism,” said Baba. “Relax a little. It’s a nice warm hug. Nothing to fluff your fur over.”
Slurp. “Okay,” said Patch through his full mouth. He ventured towards me and JP, now jerking his paws up unnaturally high.
“Hey, buddy!” said JP in a decent croon. “Want your mousie?” He held it up by its tail.
Patch sat and batted at it. Marta leaned over to give him treats but Nikki said, “Nuh uh,” and dangled a long string in front of Patch instead.
Patch’s eyes went dark with excitement, and his head twitched. Nikki was a natural at playing String! She wobbled and jerked it so well even I had a tough time not going after it. Patch, being so young, dove and leaped for it like she had a tuna fillet tied to the end!
By the time Patch stalked off with the string in his mouth, he was moving as smoothly as any cat in their natural fur.
“You may not be an angel, MeMe,” I said to the hound, “but you’re definitely a miracle worker!”
“Aww-ooa,” she said. “’Tweren’t nothing.” But then she turned away to scratch her ear, hiding her face from me.
“Cowboy can go to the Christmas Fair!” said Nikki.
“I think he can,” said JP.
“But what about Bronco? We don’t want him running away, and he won’t take a leash.”
“A walking jacket, JP,” said Marta. “It’s right on the box.”
He waved her off. “Whatever it is, he won’t wear it. If there’s…Idunno, reindeer—”
“Reindeer?!” Marta’s eyebrows shot up high.
“Like a petting zoo, hello? Anyway, if he sees something and freaks out, what stops him from running away? He doesn’t have a collar yet, we could lose him.”
“He followed us here without a leash.”
“I’m serious! Maybe it’s safer if we leave him behind. Nikki can take Cowboy and you can take Baba. He can stay here.”
I sighed. This would be a lot easier if humans and animals could just talk to each other.
I climbed off JP’s shoulder and went to the funny pink jelly bag. Stepping my feet very high, I got in. It was a little small on me, so my head stuck out the top. I looked JP in the eye. “I’m going. Even if you have to carry me,” I told him.
Nikki clutched her head and fell over laughing.
“JP! Bronco’s gonna make you wear a PURSE!” she said. And that was all it took to start Marta and Baba howling with laughter.
The ride over to the fair wasn’t half bad, but by the time we were unpacked from the car I was ready to stretch my legs. I clambered onto JP’s shoulder, leaving him holding the empty jelly bag.
“You’re going to have to hold it, JP,” said Marta, getting Baba out of the car. “In case he gets tired of riding you.”
JP sighed and slung the bag over his shoulder.
“Thanks,” I said, purring and rubbing his cheek. That stole a smile from him.
“All right, kids, Pastor Wade and your mom said they were meeting us by the wooden elf in the front,” said Mr. Rivera. “Let’s go.”
Marta led the way with her father, holding on to Baba’s leash. The brown dog wore a green sweater with a pattern that reminded me a little of Christmas trees. Nikki, holding Patch in his jacket, followed them while JP and I brought up the rear. I sniffed the air as we walked. It was cool, but not snow-cold today. The sky was even blue. We walked on a road with car-box-lines on it, but I could smell plenty of grass—and humans—and cooking—up ahead. And if I stood up straight, I could see trees in the distance. Was this a park?
We stepped onto a safe white path, then stood around with some other humans in a line before Marta’s father handed over the important-smelling green paper to a lady. Then the safe road turned into a big grassy field. The smells were mixed and more intense here. Paths led between strange human building-boxes with toys and smelly pinecones and foods and other things. Christmas trees filled with lights sometimes stood in place of the building. But instead of going down one of these paths between the goodie-boxes, we veered off next to a flat wooden sign. There stood a short man who had yellow hair as bright as a cloud, and a woman with a worn face who smelled like Nikki. When the man saw us he waved, and a smile spread across his face, bright as h
is hair. It made me purr to see it, but Nikki suddenly ducked behind me and JP.
Marta ran up to the yellow-haired man and hugged him. “Pastor Wade!”
“Heya, Marta! Hi, Sam.”
“Merry Christmas, Pastor.” Marta’s father turned to the worn woman. “Hi, I’m Sam Rivera, Marta’s dad.” They shook hands. “You must be JP and Nikki’s mom. My wife’s here somewhere,” he held out his arms, “managing the kettle corn booth, though I hope for heaven’s sake she’s not eating as much of it as she’s passing out!”
“Thank you for inviting us,” said JP and Nikki’s mom. “You can call me Christine.”
Pastor Wade came up to JP. Still smiling, he nodded at me. “Is this the surprise?”
“Wha?” said JP, smiling back.
“Your Mom told me you had a surprise for her. Is this cat it?”
JP pulled the brim of his neon yellow hat down over his face.
“Yeah, I thought so,” said the pastor with a wink. Then he leaned around to see Nikki. As bad as JP was, she was holed up in her jacket like a frightened mouse.
The pastor looked at her a second, then squatted down at Cowboy’s level. “And who are you, little guy?”
Nikki’s eyes plead with JP’s, but her brother crossed his arms.
She said something.
“Chowder?” asked the pastor.
“NO! Cowboy!” said Nikki.
“Oh! My bad. Well, howdy, Cowboy!” The pastor petted the kit with a finger. Patch leaned into it and I could have floated all the way to Heaven, I was so proud!
“Has he been staying at Marta’s with his big brother?”
Nikki nodded. “Yeeeah.” She was coming out of her jacket a little.
“How long has he been leash-trained?”
“This morning!”
“This morning! Get outta here!”
“I taught him! We used a whole bag of treats!”
“Well! He oughta be ready for the Pet Parade!”
This time both Nikki and JP spoke. “Pet Parade?”
“Yeah, I think it starts”—he checked his wrist—“a half-hour from now. I guess they’re going to gather up all the pets who’ve come and have their owners walk them through the Winter Wonderland display. I’m not sure if there’s a prize, but hey—couldn’t hurt, right?”
