The Adventures of Caterwaul the Cat (13 page)

Caterwaul knew that he probably stood little chance against the two of them, but he had a plan he hoped would work. He moved out in a semicircle of about one hundred yards, and then made a beeline to a spot some twenty feet behind where the cats were concealed. He then proceeded to thrash about in the tall grass making sure to create as much noise as possible. The hidden cats moved to see what the ruckus was about.

Up on his toes in a fighting stance, he issued his challenge. Caterwaul's tail and fur were up and at attention as he hissed at the two, who continued moving toward him defiantly. He was confident that at least one of them would strike at his throat.

Leaping toward the onrushing cats, Caterwaul drew in a deep breath and struck out with his claws bared. He landed on the back of the big yellow and struck at its head. His momentum from the jump, however, caused him to miss, and he was easily shaken off, landing on his back on the ground. At that instant, the scarred-up stripy made his move. This was obviously the leader of the two. He flashed his teeth at Caterwaul, who noticed that his incisors were bigger than they should have been. They appeared to him like daggers.

As Caterwaul predicted, the stripy slashed for his neck. The cat's claws tore directly into the paper pouch, tearing it open and releasing its contents. Once exposed to the air, the contents produced a bright flash. A cloud of dust and smoke filled the air around them. Off balance and breathing in the fumes, both the stripy and the big yellow staggered a bit, lost their balance, and fell over unconscious.

Caterwaul dashed away from the cloud before daring to draw air again. He raised his paw to his neck, checking his injury. It was bleeding, but not too badly. The stripy cat's claws had only scratched him.

“That was lucky,” he muttered to himself.

Making sure both cats were unconscious, he followed his semicircular path back to where the gray-and-white had been harassing the little one. The fat kitten was sitting there still sucking imaginary meat from the bird skeleton, but there was no sign of his victim anywhere. Nevertheless he was making some truly disgusting sounds as he sucked at bare bones, and it grossed Caterwaul out.

Obviously the intimidation of the gray-and-white had worked, and the smaller cat was off looking for more food for his tormentor.

“Are you going to eat all that yourself, fatso?” Caterwaul asked sarcastically. The gray-and-white kitten turned toward Caterwaul and let what might have been a wing joint drop to the ground.

“Who in the world are you?” asked the fat kitten.

“You're really good at smacking around the little guys aren't you? Want to tangle with me?” Caterwaul hissed, and he drew his claws.

“What do you care about it?” answered the gray-and-white as he unsheathed his own. “It's my business.”

As the gray-and-white moved closer toward him, Caterwaul could see he had misjudged this other animal's size. Though still technically a “kitten,” the gray-and-white was actually much larger than he had previously estimated, and easily had five pounds on Caterwaul.

“If I were you, I would go about my business, stranger. Don't you know who I am? If not, my name is Lucius . . . and this here is my patch of ground.”

Caterwaul leaped toward Lucius, and the larger cat dodged. He was much quicker than Caterwaul had anticipated, especially for a fat kitty. Caterwaul leaped up into the air and came down on a fence rail. He turned around just in time to see the gray-and-white's left paw strike him across the cheek. Caterwaul stumbled a second before regaining his balance. He clambered up a post to the top rail of the fence.

Lucius spryly followed him up the post. He was much more conditioned than he looked. His fat belly shook from side to side, but it did not seem to slow him down.

As Caterwaul ran along the top of the paddock fence, the bad cat continued his pursuit. Caterwaul opened up some distance between them. Finally it seemed his opponent was running out of steam. Up ahead, he could see a large sycamore tree with some low-hanging branches. He wondered if the tree's seedpods were ready to fall.

He thought back to his time in the forest. He remembered how he used to like to throw the seed pods of the sycamore at Edsel. The pods contained seeds, which when ripened, produced fibers that caused uncontrollable itching upon contact with fur or skin. Caterwaul had always called it “itchy powder.” He would laugh as the fibers clung almost magnetically to the rat's greasy coat. He hoped this tree's pods were ready to drop. Some itchy powder would come in handy right about now.

Caterwaul hopped from the fence rail onto a low-hanging tree limb and sprinted up its length to the trunk. He hurried to a set of branches that looked promising, and he carefully eased along one. It was no good. The tree had pods, but they weren't yet ripe. They were hard and spiky and green. The fibers had not yet appeared.

“Maybe I can use them anyway,” thought Caterwaul. He stretched his paw out to grab one, and the branch began to bend. It wasn't thick enough to hold his weight. As the branch dipped downward, he grabbed at one of the pods just as he lost his footing.

“Don't let me fall, please don't let me fall,” he said aloud to himself. It was all he could think of. Amazingly, he was able to recover his balance and slid back up toward the tree trunk, pod in paw.

Bouncing from the trunk to the thickest branch he could find, Caterwaul shot along its length to a place above where Lucius was. The gray-and-white was sitting on the top rail below him. He looked exhausted, and his massive form trembled as he sucked at the elusive air.

“If you're still hungry, why don't you try eating this?” Caterwaul threw the unripened, spiked seedpod at the cat, hitting him square in the face. The attack knocked him off balance. It was then that Caterwaul pounced, and both of the cats tumbled to the ground. They were screaming loudly as they fought, claws slashing at each other, fur flying from the blows.

Soon it was over. The defeated Lucius was laid out on his back on the ground with Caterwaul sitting on his chest, claws out. Gasping for breath, the defeated fat cat cried out for his companions, “Bugsy, Meyer,” he gasped. “Come quickly. I need you.”

“If you are looking for your two goon buddies, they won't be coming.”

Lucius looked stunned and terrified.

“I already took care of those two earlier, so they won't be helping you any time soon.” Caterwaul sneered, “If I were you, I would go and find you another patch to work. This one isn't yours anymore.

“Now get out of here.”

He climbed from atop the shaking wad of fur and snarled at him. The defeated cat limped off.

12

Gerhard

C
aterwaul searched for signs of the little kitten, but found none.
He couldn't have gotten far,
Caterwaul thought. After about an hour with no results, he thought it best to get back to his assignment.

He looked around until the sun started to go down, but there were still no signs of a white cat. He felt good about his performance in the fight earlier in the day. He had used all of his abilities—physical, mental, and magical—in the contest and was victorious.

He was very tired now, though. He found himself a nice stoop and curled up underneath it. His wounds had stopped bleeding, but he could see there were spots where pieces of his fur coat were missing. They had been ripped out in the fight. “That's going to really impress the girls,” he sighed.

He was fortunate that he'd remembered to pack a makeshift first-aid kit. Some salve made from garlic juice and dried geranium flowers would assure that his cuts would heal quickly and not become infected. He thanked his lucky stars that he had been able to study herbs while living with the Witch.

He also remembered that he was hungry. Reaching into his pack, he withdrew a piece of dried fish that Orris had given him. He truly loved dried carp. It was one of his favorite meals. As Caterwaul prepared for dinner, he made sure that he cleaned his fur and paws extra carefully. He didn't want to have any stray bits of Lucius contaminating his dinner.

He was just about to start eating when he heard a faint meow. Wheeling about, he spied the small kitten peering at him from one of the bushes near the stoop. The kitten had snuck up on him silently.
This is not good
, he thought. The kitten was also shaking. He was obviously afraid.

“Hey little guy, don't be scared,” Caterwaul said softly. “I won't hurt you, I promise.” He motioned with his paw for the kitten to come forward.

The kitten hesitated. He wasn't used to anyone being nice to him.

“Do you want some fish?” Caterwaul asked. He reopened his pack and pulled out another piece of the dried carp. “You look hungry. Come on over here and have some food. I have plenty and can't eat all this by myself.”

The kitten was still unsure, so Caterwaul pushed the second piece of fish forward and withdrew several paces. “Come on now. You can have it. No tricks . . . I promise you.” The little cat cautiously moved toward the piece of fish. When he saw that Caterwaul remained at a distance, he leaped on it and started tearing at it ravenously, like he hadn't eaten anything in days.

“There you go,” said Caterwaul. “It's pretty good, no?” The kitten nodded his head repeatedly while he gorged himself. “Hey now, little guy, slow down,” Caterwaul laughed. “There is plenty. No one is going to take it away from you.

“What's your name, boy?” asked Caterwaul.

“Coy,” said the kitten without pausing. “My name is Coy. This is really good. I haven't had fish in a long time.”

Caterwaul found that hard to believe. “But there is a river which runs through Harsizzle less than a mile from here. There are fishermen and merchants all over this town.”

“Not anymore, there aren't,” said the kitten. “You have noticed that there are a lot more cats running around these parts lately? A whole lot of them used to be fishermen. But a little while ago, all of the fishermen turned into cats. You see people can't look into mirrors anymore. If they do, they get turned into cats, like us . . . Poof! It happens just like that.”

He finished up his piece of fish. “I don't suppose you have any more you can spare?”

Caterwaul nodded and pushed the uneaten portion of his own dinner toward the starving kitten. “So how does that affect the fishermen?” he asked.

“Well,” Coy responded in an almost matter-of-fact way. “The water in the river is not perfectly clear, see? Like most rivers, it has a greenish-brown tint. Because of this, the river's surface is reflective. The fishermen went down to the river to work one day, and then all of a sudden, they turned into cats. It was like the whole river became a giant mirror . . . Scary was what it was.”

He wolfed down a large mouthful of the carp. “So, as you can imagine, no more fishermen means the number of fish in Harsizzle becomes significantly reduced. And what fish do manage to come out of the river these days are strictly controlled by the Felinos.”

Caterwaul hadn't considered that other reflective surfaces might also have been affected by his spell. He would have to find a way to address that type of collateral damage before using it again.

“In fact, there is a serious shortage of all types of food in the village these days, not just fish. Why with all these newcomers running around town, producing nothing, the rodent population has disappeared as well.”

Taking another mouthful of his food, Coy continued, “Most cats these days round here are glad just to get some scraps out of the trash of the few remaining humans, or from picking the bits off the rotting carcasses of dead things they find lying about. Things were so much better before, when there were just a few of us in town.”

Caterwaul was ashamed. He had caused this. It was entirely his fault. He needed to find the white female and get back so he could lift the spell. “Who are these Felinos you mentioned?” he asked the youth.

“You're kidding me, right?” asked the small cat sarcastically. “You haven't heard of the outfit? The organization? The Felino family? The mob? The Felinos . . . they're gangsters.

“They have complete control of the docks. They operate out of their power base down at the riverfront. Come to think of it, they control almost all the cat rackets around here. If it's crooked, then you can bet that you'll find a Felino has got his filthy little paws in it.

“You must be new in town if you don't know who the Felinos are. You know that gray-and-white chunkster you fought a little while ago? He's one of them . . . He's a pretty important underboss in the outfit too.”

He finished up the last of his fish. “Wow, I thought every cat knew about the Felinos?”

“So . . . you saw all that then, did you?” Caterwaul asked.

“Of course,” said Coy. “I was hiding near where you stashed your bag. Don't worry, I didn't take anything . . . I swear it. I wasn't about to steal from anyone nuts enough to take on Lucius Jr. But hey . . . just so you know, your hiding place was pretty obvious. A big pile of leaves and hay? Come on . . . if I was trying to nab your stuff, that pile would have been the first place I'd have looked.