by Stevie Day
“Alice?” She could hear her dad’s concern.
“Never mind.”
“Okay,” her dad said. “Best not to mess with ghosts, anyway. They can be finicky creatures.”
Alice laughed, looking down at Mr. Ploppers still sniffing around for leftover floor tuna. “I’ve already got one of those hanging around.”
“Alice, I’d love to talk forever, but this phone-amajiggy is costing a fortune and I don’t carry around a lot of cash these days.”
“That’s okay, Dad.”
“But I’m going to look around while I’m down from the mountain for some kind of solution to the phone problem. My students don’t get any reception on their cellphones, so that’s out. But maybe I can ask the people here how they get this thing working and get something like it up there.”
“You don’t have to do that just for me, Dad.”
“It’s not just for you, sweetie,” he said. “It’s for me too. We just had an emergency that I wasn’t prepared for. And there’s no excuse for that.”
“Okay, then,” Alice said. “But, Dad? Do you think we’ll need it, just to talk in general? Do you think my magic is gone for good?” She unconsciously held her breath, waiting for his response.
There was sudden static on the other end. “What? What’s that, Alice?”
She let out her breath. “Nothing. Never mind, Dad.”
There was a knock on her front door.
“Dad? Can you hear me?”
“Yes, but barely,” came his distant reply.
“My new tenant is here. I gotta go. How about we just say ‘I love you’ and see who contacts who next?”
“Okay. I love you, Alice.”
“I love you too, Dad.” She teared up.
There was some mumbling on the other side, her father obviously talking with somebody about how to end the call. Alice smiled and disconnected from her end before heading for the front door.
As expected, Mr. Lewis had arrived at her front porch. “Hey, Alice,” he said as she pulled open the door. “Got what you asked for.”
He was holding up a familiar beige pet carrier.
“Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” Alice said. “It was really nice of you to drop her off.”
“I know your vehicle situation is iffy right now. And it’s always my pleasure to bring an animal to a good home. How do you think Mr. Ploppers is going to handle a roommate?”
Alice reached out and took the carrier from his hands. “Oh, he’ll probably whine and moan for a little bit. But he’ll grow to love her, I’m sure. How’s she been?”
“Still a little tentative, but I think she’s starting to warm up to having people around. I’m sure she’s going to do great with you.”
“I hope so,” Alice said. She put the carrier on the floor and peeked in at the cat.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” Mr. Lewis asked.
“I have. Her little black mask around her eyes makes her look mildly suspicious… So I’m going to call her Mischief.”
Mr. Lewis laughed. “Mischief. I love that. Well, I’ll leave you guys to get to know each other.”
“Thanks again, Mr. Lewis.”
“My pleasure.” He waved and headed back down the porch.
Alice shut the door behind him and bent back down to peer into the cage. Mischief was looking out, her nose sniffing endlessly at the air.
“So I’m just gonna let you out, Mischief. You get free rein of the house. Just watch out for Mr. Ploppers. He’s around here somewhere and I never had a chance to really tell him you’re coming. He’s not gonna hurt you or anything. You just might freak him out a little.”
Alice popped open the cage and was surprised when Mischief strolled right out, immediately heading for the kitchen. Alice followed.
“Ah. You must smell the leftover floor tuna. Here, let me get you a proper can.”
As Alice prepared her new family member a proper first meal on the counter, Mr. Ploppers made his presence known, waltzing slowly into the kitchen in that smooth cool cat way all cats seemed to walk.
“What the almighty heck is this?” he asked incredulously.
“Oh!” Mischief said. She ran right over to Mr. Ploppers, nose still sniffing madly at everything. Mr. Ploppers took a defensive stance, one paw slightly off the ground.
“Are you Mr. Ploppers?” Mischief continued. “I heard the lady say Mr. Ploppers. Is that you? You look like a ‘Ploppers.’ Hi. I guess my name is Mischief because that’s what the lady called me. I like it. Do you like it? I like Mr. Ploppers. That’s a funny name. Is it because you’re so big you don’t sit, you plop? That’s funny. Hi.”
“Oh. My. Goodness,” Mr. Ploppers said, walking away. Mischief chased after him.
“Where do you sleep? Where do I sleep? Can I curl up next to you? Is that okay? Hi. Are there mice or things to chase? I like to chase things. Do you like to chase things? I think you should probably chase things. Because you’re kind of—”
“Don’t body shame me. I have a thyroid problem.”
“What’s a thyroid? Is that why you’re so ploppy?”
Mr. Ploppers kept walking, Mischief kept talking, and Alice just stood watching and listening, smiling perhaps the happiest smile she’d ever smiled, realizing then that her magic was back.
“Do what you want,” Mr. Ploppers said to Mischief, not knowing yet that Alice could understand him. “Just stay away from my human. She’s mine.”
“What was that, Mr. Ploppers?” Alice asked, an unrestrained smile on her face.
Mr. Ploppers eyes grew wide, then he booked it, as if he could run away from his embarrassment. Mischief took this as an opportunity to chase after him, her incessant questions fading as the cats disappeared deeper into the house.
Alice exhaled, her chest feeling light as magic flowed around her. Finally, all felt right in the world.
The End
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