The Great Cat Caper (11 page)

S
aturday, Heather took the girls to a movie the Twin Terrors disdained as a “girl movie.” Then it was piles of spaghetti for dinner and playing soccer in the backyard with Dad and the Twin Terrors, who unbelievably behaved themselves and did not kick a ball into anyone’s head.

The next morning, after Mrs. Martin picked up Sunny, Aneta, and Esther to return them home, Vee ducked into the shower before the Twin Terrors could submerge it with water, dressed, and headed to the kitchen where Heather was removing a breakfast casserole. It was their Sunday tradition. It smelled heavenly—Vee grinned at her Sunday comparison—and it was devoured quickly. Then they were on their way to church.

Usually when Vee attended church with her dad and his family, she dozed off and awoke only when the minister said a word more loudly than the rest of his words. Today, however, the music was upbeat and she found herself clapping along.

The Twin Terrors departed for Sunday school. Heather offered Vee the sixth-grade class, but she shook her head. Walk into a room where everyone would look at her? No thanks. So she sat between Dad and Heather’s citrusy perfume and got comfortable, notebook and pen at the ready. Great thinking time for a plan to convince Mom and Bill that Buzz needed a spot, and Vee needed a spot, and the kitten and the girl could have their spot together in Bill’s house. Technically,
Mom
and Bill’s house. Neither of those sounded right anymore. Our house? She tried on the phrase as the minister began his sermon.

Our house.
Wow. She forgot her list and stared ahead unseeing. It fit. When had it become our house? Mom worked too much, Bill was a bad cook and a nut case, and Vee—Vee knew what stuff had been going on inside her. Yet.
Our
house.

“Today is a great day for treasure.” The minister’s words finally penetrated Vee’s thoughts. She glanced up. The guy sounded like Bill’s every morning greeting. Were they related? No, this guy was short and bald. “Today’s treasure is brought to you courtesy of the sixth-grade Sunday school class.”

Vee counted a dozen kids her age who stepped up onto the stage. Eight stood in a line. The other four stood behind them. All of them carried cardboard squares with lettering. A murmur and a chuckle ran through the congregation. A boy with bangs covering his eyes stepped in front.

“So,” he said, his face flushing scarlet. “We wanted to explain why God is our Treasure—kid school—not, like, adult old school. So, like first, we had to get ideas. Then we argued ’Cause none of us had the same ideas and nobody would agree.”

This provoked an outright chuckle in the room. Vee leaned forward, smiling. They sounded like the S.A.V.E. Squad.

“So we had to think what was more important, who had the ideas or getting good stuff for explaining treasure.” He bobbed his head. “Dude, here we go. Hope it works.”

The first person in line held up a sign. A kid popped out below and held out the explanation of the letter. Moments later, Vee was scribbling madly in her notebook, lifting her head up and down to keep up with the demonstration. The last kid had to dart after more letters than the others to finish the acrostic. He grinned at the audience as he popped in and out. They laughed. So did Vee as she scrawled the letters to the side in big print and the ideas next to it.

Treasure. She was sure she’d seen it in Buzz from the first time she saw him walking the Dumpster. When she’d named him, he’d become her treasure. She chewed the inside of her lip as the last song was sung. Her
special spot.
Hadn’t she been looking for that ever since her parents married other people?

She thought of the connections and patterns the Squad had used to come up with kickin’ ideas for the Great Cat Caper. Now her brain was clicking with a new pattern. What if
God could be the special spot
…? That kid with the long bangs would be able to tell her if she was right. As soon as the minister dismissed the congregation, she climbed over Dad’s knees and marched up to the boy.

W
e’ve still got a lot to do,” Vee said Monday after school when the girls gathered at The Sweet Stuff. The Helpful City Festival started Friday. And the retest. Gulp. Early Friday morning.

Aneta’s gram had given her money for The Sweet Stuff. Everybody wanted to give them money. Her gram probably didn’t know how often the girls had been to The Sweet Stuff lately.
Not for me to tell,
she thought with a grin, licking her cone.

While they ate ice cream cones, Vee talked excitedly about the long-bangs boy, the treasure bit from yesterday, and how weird it was to be thinking now of God as treasure, her special place in Him, and wanting to see treasure around her. Sunny, Esther, and Aneta didn’t think it was weird. That’s why they were all the S.A.V.E. Squad, Vee thought with satisfaction. They thought alike even when they didn’t.

She then handed out the list. Since yesterday, she’d been feeling, umm,
lighter.
When Bill greeted her with his morning greeting, she’d responded, “I found treasure yesterday.” Bill wanted to know all about it. Funny. Bill knew all about God as treasure. Vee had shaken her head. You just never knew what Bill knew.

The Great Cat Caper would be the best ever. She couldn’t wait to hold Buzz. While the girls were making their cat toys, she was going to get ideas from them about how to talk to Mom and Bill about adopting Buzz.

Esther poked her copy with one scarlet fingernail. “Couldn’t we just once not have a list?”

Vee ignored her. “You’ve got the stuff for the cat toys, Esther? We’re doing that tomorrow, right?”

“Check. I gave my list to Frank and Sunny,” she nodded at the redhead. “And they are going around to the stores and seeing who will donate the stuff or money.” Ticking off the items, she said, “Fake feathers, yarn, catnip, beads, and straws.”

“Straws?” Aneta asked, pausing in midlick of her banana ice cream.

“You’ll see,” Esther said, smiling a secret smile. “Then Wednesday, we work on the cat colony shelters. My dad knows a guy who will donate two really big foam coolers.”

“I don’t see how cats can live in a cooler that’s supposed to keep stuff cold.” Vee frowned.

Again Esther smiled the secret smile and said, “You’ll see.”

Sunny, who could finish an ice cream cone faster than anyone Vee knew, was pacing around their table making up a song about cats. It was pretty random.

A body rocketed into her vacant seat. “I gotta be in your group.” It was C. P., looking desperate.

“You can’t be in our group,” Esther said patiently and not startled by his sudden appearance. She took another lick.

“Why not?” He pleated a napkin and pressed it to his upper lip. “See my mustache?”

“For one thing,” Vee explained, trying not to laugh, “you’re not a girl, and for another thing, you’re not a S.A.V.E. Squad member.”

He wiggled the mustache. “I don’t want to be part of the creepy S.A.V.E. Squad. Cheez-Whiz, guys don’t want to be in the S.A.V.E. Squad. I have to be in on the Great Cat Caper.”

“Why?” Aneta fixed her wide-eyed gaze on him.

“Because if I don’t find something else to do, my mom said she was going to lose her mind.”

Sunny cocked her head. “But you play fall soccer.”

“It’s not in the budget this year.”

Good day for treasure.
What treasure might C. P. prove to be? What treasure might he be for the cats?
What on earth am I thinking?
It felt right, however, so she went with it. “I say yes,” she said. “If nothing else, he can stir the organic cat treats, which are sure to be gross.”

The other girls looked surprised but quickly added their okay.

“I knew you would,” he said smugly then checked out Vee’s dripping cone. “You gonna eat all that?”

A
s soon as the girls and C. P. hit the senior center steps the next day, breathless from a race across the park—Vee won—Esther took charge. “Okay, let’s see how many toys we can make before we have to go home.”

“How many do we have to make?” Aneta wanted to know.

“You don’t want to know,” was Sunny’s reply. “You should see all the stuff we got.”

Sure as there were beetles, they needed help. Vee reviewed what she had to do today: An hour and a half of making a bazillion cat toys. Then Math Man’s homework. Then regular homework. Vee just wanted to take Buzz home with his oven mitts, eat dinner with Mom and Bill, and play with Buzz until she went to bed. The math retest—and the key to whether she would get to stay in the Accelerated Learning Center—was three days away, counting today. The same morning the Helpful City Festival began. Dad was supposed to drive her to school for the test.

Esther was the first to turn the corner into the Cat Room. “Oh!” Vee heard her say.

“What?” Vee asked. She sniffed. No smell of mouthwash.

By now they had all stumbled into the room and saw Cat Woman, Hermann, an enormous man, and some ladies that played pickleball at the community center.

“We’re here to help!” one of the ladies said.

“Hooray!” Sunny said.

“Hermann convinced us you girls really wanted help.” Another lady unzipped her jacket and laid it neatly across the back of a chair.

The girls looked at each other. “We put up signs. We do need help!” Esther said.

“We signed up, but nobody contacted us.”

Esther looked at Sunny. “Did you collect the sign-up sheets?”

“No,” Sunny said. “I thought that was your job.”

Oh boy.
The S.A.V.E. Squad had done it again. This project had more messes in it than a Twin Terror birthday party. Vee and the girls traded glances.

“We’re sorry!” Sunny said. “Boy, we sure are saying that a lot.”

The ladies laughed and said it was nice to know someone else didn’t remember everything. Vee got Buzz out of his cage and sat at the edge of the group, rubbing him on the belly and listening to his buzzing. Esther was organized, Vee was glad to see. If she hadn’t been, C. P. could never have sat still long enough to get directions. As it was, he bounced up and down in his seat. Everyone got directions for the two projects.

By the end of their time together that afternoon, Vee knew that C. P.’s treasure was making them laugh. Her sides hurt from laughing.

“You, young man, are a card,” one of the pickleball club ladies said. “You made my day. I can’t wait to e-mail my granddaughter and tell her I spent the afternoon making Feather Freakies for the Great Cat Caper with kids. She thinks I never do anything but watch TV and eat Jell-O with my old friends.”

“You are so funny,” Aneta agreed, gathering the remaining feathers and neatly stowing them in a plastic bag.

Vee collected the beads and wound up the yarn. Tickling Buzz with one of the Freakies, she saw his eyes blaze and he pounced, fighting furiously with the feather and biting the straw. She giggled. “This toy is cat tested and passes with flying colors,” she announced. Everybody clapped. She gently placed him in his cage.

Sunny began sliding the straws in another bag.

Esther finished counting. “We made 150 Freakies and 100 Sock ’Ems. We really sped up after C. P. said to cut all the straws and yarn first and measure out the catnip. And because we had help.” She beamed at the seniors. The girls clapped.

Vee slung on her backpack after casting a quick eye around the table in the Cat Room. She hated leaving Buzz. “Bye, little Buzz. Tonight, no matter what, I’ll talk to Mom and Bill. Or Bill, if Mom is working late.”

Esther’s voice followed her out the door, along with Sunny and Aneta’s good-bye. “Remember, tomorrow we make cat colony shelters for Aneta’s and my cats!”