The Adventures of Caterwaul the Cat (8 page)

First and foremost, he wanted to see color. All that time he had spent with the Witch in her dank forest cavern had nearly driven him insane. Now he was going to take these gray castle walls and lighten them up. That meant warm colors, such as yellows and oranges, and cool ones, such as light blues and purples too, all swirling around on fields of white. Since it was now “his castle,” he thought nothing wrong with any of the major changes he planned to make.

He hired the most talented glass masters to replace the windows in the great hall with stained glass ones depicting scenes of his “heroic escape” from the forest. There was nothing Caterwaul loved more than to lie on the floor while the sun shone through the windows and onto him. He assumed that having stained glass windows of varied colors would vary the temperature of the rays, and he was right. He especially liked to lie in the sun first thing in the morning. Sometimes he would remain there for hours unmoved. Then he'd stretch a bit and shift positions to allow exposure of every part of his fur to the warmth of the sun.

The outside of the castle grounds, he had manicured meticulously, and a hedgerow was planted in the form of a maze so that he could get his exercise for the day. He had ramps built, too, so he could run up and down on them, giving him hours and hours of enjoyment. Since he was a cat, he had special catwalks built to his design that spanned the castle both inside and out.

He replaced the old crystal chandeliers with imported mobiles, which almost always showed depictions of cats from faraway lands. He hoped someday to be able to travel to those places. Some of them made music when the wind blew across them like chimes. Caterwaul loved these best.

He had giant bird feeders constructed so he could gaze out the window and watch birds.
After all, who doesn't like to stare at birds?
he thought. He installed scratching posts in every room of the castle and filled them all with hundreds of cat toys. There was no doubt who was master of the castle now.

Last, he created an exercise room complete with balance beams, rings, and all sorts of gymnastic equipment. If there was going to be a whole slew of visitors, Caterwaul wanted to be sure they could keep themselves in decent shape.

The humans working at the castle all knew Caterwaul was in charge, and they did whatever he asked of them. Caterwaul got along well with humans. However, out of the entire castle staff, the one Caterwaul liked most was Orris the chef. He considered Orris to be a friend, and he believed the feeling was mutual.

Orris often would sit at the koi pond beside his new master, who punched and prodded at the waters. He watched as the black cat swiped at the fish the way a boxer throws out his jab, and every now and then, Caterwaul would hook one of them on his claws.

If and when this happened, the cat would give the fish to Orris to prepare for an elaborate dinner. It might not be the same as one of the former queen's feasts, but still it gave Orris the practice he needed. However, this was something that did not happen often. Caterwaul, unlike most felines, liked to practice catch-and-release.

With every passing day, the castle became more Caterwaul's creation. He wondered what the queen would have to say if she saw it, then he briefly paused a moment to silently reflect upon his companion.

Caterwaul thought about what might have happened to Druciah. He missed her terribly. She had been good to him. The thought that she and her entourage might have been killed and eaten by a giant turtle disturbed him. But he was confident that if she were still alive, he certainly would have heard something by now.

7

To the Hollow Oak

A
fter resting a few hours to regain strength, the party followed the possums' directions until it happened upon an enormous oak that was hollowed out with a huge door on it. The sun was just coming up over the canopy, and the queen and her entourage could see they had entered an unnatural place. Here the forest looked as if someone or something had spent a great deal of time carefully managing the surroundings. With the sun high in the sky, one could see the area around the hollowed-out tree was full of brilliant flowers and bushes, carefully arranged as if done by a professional gardener. The landscape was breathtaking, to say the least.

Remembering the prime minister's warning, the queen and her followers tried to slip by it, making very little noise. But they were in a forest, and because of this, no matter how they tried, they were doomed to dislodge something. Suddenly there was a snapping sound. Warwick Vane Bezel III accidentally stepped on a rather large twig, breaking it like a pretzel stick.

Suddenly the giant door swung open, and a large, enraged turtle leaped at them from the inside of the tree. The turtle was enormous. It was about as long as a man, or longer, with a head which must have been two feet wide at the least.

As he roared angrily, the queen noted he had a very attractive and multi-colored woolen scarf flowing over his shell and claws, which were carefully manicured and polished to a brilliant shine. His beak sparkled in the light, and he was wearing what appeared to be glitter all over his reptilian face. Then, of course, there was the eye makeup.

“Don't any of you touch anything! I have everything just the way I want it!” the turtle shouted at them with a most pronounced lisp. “I need you to just turn around right now, and go back the way you came, or I ssswear, I will sssnap you in half.”

At this point, the queen, who had been somewhat prepared by Caterwaul for this inevitable encounter, stepped forward. “We apologize if we disturbed, you my good sir. We were sent this way by the Parliament of Possums. As soon as we came near it, we knew this place was obviously the home of a truly cultured soul. Let me again say how sorry we all are if we have disrupted things in any way.”

The irritable turtle replied, “I find it hard to believe those dreadful possums with no sssense of ssstyle whatsoever would sssend anyone this way, especially when they know that upsetting Joffrey is the worst thing you can possibly do.” The guards looked at each other with bewilderment as if to ask,
who is Joffrey?

“Hello . . . that's ME . . . I'm Joffrey . . . you imbeciles!” said the turtle, anticipating exactly what they were thinking. “It took me years to get everything in this clearing just the way I want it. You can sssee all the work that went into this area around you, can't you?

“The possums know I don't like uninvited guests. Uninvited guests mess with MY things, and it's known far and wide throughout the forest that only people with a death wish ever mess with my things.”

“Again, forgive us, Joffrey. I am Druciah, queen of the land from the edge of this forest to the sea. I seek an audience with the Witch of Red Moon Forest. I do not wish to disturb your beautiful and sophisticated décor. You obviously possess a flair for design second to none in these parts. Tell me friend, have you studied?”

The glitter on the turtle's face simulated blushing. “Why no,” he said, “I learned to do this entirely on my own. There aren't many interior design classes open to turtles.”

The queen continued her flattery. “Well, I love what you have done to the place, Joffrey. It's positively yummy. The color schemes are wonderful. They reveal a natural beauty unmatched by any royal decorator I have. If you didn't live all the way out here, I would employ you at the palace,” the queen said with what appeared to be genuine adoration.

“Do you really think ssso? How kind of you to sssay. Obviously you have an eye for design at least as ssseasoned as my own.”

By now any hint of hostility was gone from the turtle, and Joffrey invited the queen to enter his hollowed-out oak tree. “Your majesty, it just so happens that I have a pot of tea on the fire right now, and I would love it if you would join me. We can discuss what it is that you like most about what I have accomplished here. You do realize that I've had very little to work with.”

Despite Warwick Vane Bezel III's misgivings, the queen accompanied Joffrey into the hollowed-out oak, emerging into a beautiful and cozy great room. She noticed his incredible attention to detail. The room was filled with fine tapestries and colorful window treatments. The hand-carved furniture was brilliant—which is especially impressive considering the hands that had carved the furniture belonged to a giant snapping turtle.

Joffrey brought the queen some tea.

She took a sip and acknowledged its quality. “I have a gift for you Joffrey that I think you are going to absolutely love.” The queen walked to the great door and called out, “Guards, bring me the cedar chest!”

Once it had been moved inside the oak tree, the queen opened the chest to reveal two pairs of hand-stitched throw pillows decorated with intricate gold embroidery. The chest also contained some very fine draperies and an array of decorative knick-knacks fit for only the wealthiest households. Also included was a set of the finest bed linens and a down comforter fit for a royal bedchamber. Last, she unrolled a small but intricate hand-woven rug and set it by the front door.

“Well what do you think?” asked the queen. “If there is anything you find you don't like, you can always give it to the possums. They did make our meeting today possible after all.”

Joffrey fell to what Druciah assumed were his knees, but one can never tell with turtles. “Why your majesty, these gifts are sssimply exquisite. What a truly fabulous present this is. Every sssingle item is absolutely gorgeous. You truly have the eye, my queen.” The turtle was grinning and clapping his front turtle paws together. He had never in his life been given such a present as this chest full of goods.

“Nobody has ever given me anything like this. And to think, I almost bit you and your sssilly henchmen in half.” He was ashamed. “Can you ever forgive me, my queen? You are welcome here anytime. Do you like show tunes?”

It was the happiest day of Joffrey's reptilian life. “You sssay you are going to sssee the Witch? Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind? She's not much fun, and ssshe has a really awful sssense of personal hygiene.

“And that cave ssshe lives in . . . well, let's just come out and sssay it: IT'S A CAVE! Really, all that magic at her disposal, and ssshe chooses to live in that filthy, dirty cave of all places . . . and her personal appearance? Not exactly haute couture, if you'll pardon my French! If I were her, the first thing I'd do would be to conjure up sssome high heels and lots and lots of makeup . . . oh, and a corset to hide that unsightly figure of hers.

“Maybe get sssome colorful new clothes. You know they sssay that black is ssslimming, but that wardrobe of hers is ssso depressing . . . I tell you what ssshe really needs is a complete makeover, but please don't tell her I sssaid that. That would be hateful.”

Joffrey rambled on. “Are you really sssure you want to visit her of all people? Why don't you just ssstay here tonight? We can order take-out. It will be fun. Do you guys like fish?” He clapped his massive paws together as he suggested this.

“As tempting as your offer is, I must decline. I have pressing personal matters I must discuss with the Witch, and as much as it pains me to leave you, I am afraid I must. If we may but pass, I promise that I will call on you to be my guest at the palace in the near future,” said Druciah.

“Oh that would be lovely,” said Joffrey, “and maybe then we could talk sssome more about that job.” The turtle gathered up the dishes and made sure to wipe down any surfaces that either he or Druciah might have touched. He smiled at the queen, embarrassed. “OCD, that's me,” he giggled, sporting his enormous snapping turtle grin.

Once they had gone back outside, the turtle addressed the entire party. “Well if you insist on going, I feel compelled to warn you about those irritating frogs at Bug SSStool Creek. They ssstand guard over the path for the Witch. They don't really do it out of choice, mind you, but they are cursed. They really don't like her at all.

“Now for sssomeone like me, the frogs don't present much of a problem.” He tapped his armored shell, “Natural body armor and all that.” He continued, “For me they are just a pain in my ssstubby tail, but for you, they could be quite dangerous.

“They have these wish bones which they use as makeshift bows and filed-down porcupine quills which they use as arrows. They dip the arrows in the poisons on their back, and then they fire at any trespassers. You guys are going to need sssomething to protect you from those sssilly little darts. Luckily, I think I may just have the thing to help. Wait here . . . I'll be right back.”

Joffrey went back into his tree, and after a few minutes, he returned holding five really elaborate suits of fish mail. “Contrary to popular belief, I do have friends. Granted I can count them on two paws,” he was laughing. “But when Carlos and his friends come to visit they insist on gathering crawfish. They like to make étouffée from those ssslimy little creek insects. So, for protection, I ssstitched together sssome wonderful outerwear from fish ssscales woven together with Ssspanish moss to create a kind of ssstylish, lightweight armor.