Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter twelve of my story Catzilla. Just to update you my owner has figured out which items she can afford to purchase at the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale. This is of great relief to me, as I tire of her long exhausting attempts at frugality. But I know this is not the end. The festivities have only just begun. I may, however, get the opportunity to join her for lunch at the Nordstrom Restaurant I personally am a fan of the Roasted Chicken Salad. What Canis Lupus Familiaris isn’t? My novelist has been trying to get me to order the Sesame Cauliflower and Simple Salad. I merely chuckle at her attempt and will order a side of Crisp Calamari which I will devour whole. If she can drive me insane with her shopping, I can drive her insane with my carnivorous lifestyle. She has made several threats to bring the Maltese along for the occasion to ruin my gastronomical event. But I know she knows better than to elicit my wrath. And with that thought here is chapter twelve of Catzilla. Bon Appetit!  

Catzilla

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twelve

Lyle and I followed Quincy to his house which was two miles away. It stood at the end of a street much like Ellery’s place but not nearly as nice. It looked to have been built in the 1970’s and was stained with a deep saddle brown with dark chocolate trim. It had the strange aura of sinister and cool. The entrance was sunken off to the right side and had a door trimmed with heavy gold-stained glass that blocked visitors from peering inside. Quincy took his key out of his jacket pocket, stuck it in the lock and opened the door.

“Wait here, freaks,” he told us. “Sit over there.”

He pointed to a bench nestled on the right-hand side of the door just out of view. We wheeled our bikes over and leaned them against the house as Quincy strutted inside.

“You think he’s playing us?” I asked Lyle after we sat down.

“Maybe. But it’s worth the chance.”

Lyle sounded optimistic but I remained skeptical. “We are trusting Quincy here.”

“I know.”

From the angle we were at we could see the activity on the street above. After a few moments of nothing happening, an unmarked white van pulled up to the curb. On top of the van was a small antenna like you might see in a campy spy movie. The small ante4nna appeared to twist about attempting to find a signal. Finally, it pointed itself in our direction and stopped.

“Lyle,” I said. “Look.”

Lyle, who had been on his phone scrolling through an article on advanced electrical engineering, looked up at the van. “I think I saw that same van earlier today when I was outside playing tetherball.”

“The antenna’s a little weird.”

“Yeah, it’s for surveillance.”

“Do you think it might be us they’re spying on?”

“Maybe. But it’s more likely interested in the kitten.”

“You think the kitten came all the way out here?”

“Possibly.”

“Why do you think they’re spying on the kitten?”

“Because when I saw the van earlier today that antenna was pointed in the direction of my neighbor’s driveway where the kitten was eating. I think I’ve seen it somewhere else too.”

“Hey, freaks,” Quincy said bursting through the front door. “I’ve got the goods.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an amber vial and shook it like a maraca. “So, Lyle. You owe me a B in Advanced Algebra.”

“I said I’d help you pass. Not pass with flying colors. I think we’d better shoot for a D+ or maybe a C-.”

“No way, freak. You get me a B or your screwed. You get me, dumbass?”

“That wasn’t the agreement,” Lyle said calmly. “It’s too far into the semester to get your grade up to a B.”

“The final is worth half the grade.”

“The final is going to be brutal.”

“Look,” I said. “Split the difference. I’ll bet Lyle could get you a C+.”

“Not likely,” Lyle said.

“Alright,” Quincy said. “It’s better than an F. The school wants to call an F an N now for No Pass. What difference does it make if it’s an F or an N? Do they think I’m too stupid to figure out an N is a failing grade?”

“Euphemisms,” Lyle said.

“What?”

“No Pass or N is a euphemism.”

“N just means F, Lyle. I thought you were smart or something.”

“Thank you for the tranquilizers,” I told Quincy.

“Thanks for the C+.”

Lyle and I got on our bikes and wheeled them up the steep entrance to the street.

“You know I’m going to have to do most of his homework for him,” Lyle said. “Because there’s no way I can get his grade raised from an N to a C+ without helping him cheat.”

“I’ll assist you.”

“I’ll go with you when you tutor him and keep him focused.”

“Uh, yeah. Right. Okay.”

We continued towards the bottom of the hiss to head back to our neighborhood when we spotted the red kitten sitting in Quincy’s neighbor’s driveway eating a bowl of food.

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “The kitten actually made it all the way over here.”

“Cats can travel a long way from their home. When my mom was our age, she had a Manx and that tomcat ended up two towns away. Apparently, this guy had a barn and the cat liked to hunt mice in it. The farmer who owned the barn had given the cat a nice little bed inside. He was heartbroken when he found out the cat wasn’t homeless and had an owner. I think he thought whoever owned the cat didn’t want it anymore and cut it loose.”

“Didn’t your mom’s cat have a collar and tags?”

“Yeah, it did. But you know people. They want to believe what they want to believe.

I studied the kitten. “I swear that kitten grew even larger than was when we left it in the driveway.”

“Bigger or not now that we have her in our sites all we have to do is give her the tranquilizer and bug her collar.”

“Should we do it now or try to get her to follow us home?”

“We’ve got her in our sites. Let’s do it now.”

“Do you think we can get up there and put it in her bowl of food?”

“Yeah…although it would be nice if we could, you know, sweeten the pot.”

“What do you mean?”

Lyle reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Kraft caramel square and held it out for me to see. “I think with the two rows of teeth that thing has it can probably consume it if I drop it in his bowl.”

“You thought of everything, Lyle.”

“Why, yes I did.”

Lyle unwrapped the cellophane from the caramel and handed it to me. He opened the vial of pills, shook one out, put the cap back on the bottle, and pressed the tranquilizer into the caramel. He began moving over to the cat who was still engrossed in its food. The creature turned its head towards him, its emerald-green eyes glowing like lasers. It hissed showing its double set of teeth.

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” he said. He tossed the caramel, but it missed the dish and instead landed just outside of it. The kitty jutted its nose at it and sniffed, her full focus on this unexpected treat. She stuck out her long extensive tongue and snatched it. She chewed it thoughtfully with her sharp double set of teeth lolling over the caramel flavor. She swallowed and continued eating her meal.

Lyle came back over to me, and we stood one house over from Quincy’s observing the kitten. After a moment it began to nod its head. Slowly it slunk down onto its belly. It lay there like a bobblehead sphynx. Then it put its head down on its paws then it began to snore.

Lyle and I crept up to the creature. Lyle began working his magic and attempted to get the small bug attached to the collar. But after a moment he realized he needed to change plans. “We need to take the collar off the kitten. Could you do that for me, Briar?”

I was not thrilled about it, but it needed to be done. “Okay,” I said reluctantly. I knelt and reached for the cat’s collar. Its mouth was open, and she was purring loudly. With the tips of my fingers, I worked the buckle. She stirred. I pulled my fingers back. Way back. Then I continued with my attempt. I worked the leather through the buckle, then pulled the pin out of the hole, then slipped the leather out. I had to hold the collar at one end and gently slip it out from underneath the oversized kitten’s chin. The kitten stirred again and tilted its head to one side so I could see the furry white underside of its chin.

“Here,” I whispered handing the collar to Lyle.

“Awesome,” Lyle said and attached the tiny ring with the dangling metal cube from it to the ring on the cat’s collar. “Here you go.”

“That’s it? You just want me to fasten this thing back on this thing?”

“Yup.”

I shook my head, put the ends of the collar between my fingers and slowly glided it back under the kitten’s chin. I slid the leather through the buckle, adjusted it, put the pin into the proper hole and finished fastening the buckle.

“Done with that,” I muttered.

Lyle took his phone out of his jacket and messed around with it for a moment. Suddenly, I heard a beep coming from the kitten.

“Alright,” Lyle said. “Let’s let the kitty sleep and we’ll head back home.”

“What if the cat doesn’t head back to our neighborhood?”

“She followed us here; she’ll follow us home.”

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: COMEDIANS IN CARS GETTING COFFEE (2012)-Netflix

If you’re sitting around wanting to watch something short, fun, and funny watch this show. It ran for eleven seasons over the course of eight years on Netflix. The whole thing seems like a banal premise. Jerry Seinfeld chooses a car to suit his guest comedian, then he goes and picks them up and takes them out for coffee. That’s it. And the show is as addictive as coffee itself. Once you see the first episode (Jim Carry who is fantastic) you’ve got to see the next one…and the next one…and the next one…In many ways the best part of the show is Seinfeld himself and how quick witted and imaginative this guy really is as he carries on casual conversations with famous comedians. It’s as if you were right there having coffee with them. Whether you like the guest he has on or not they are interesting to observe no matter what. I started watching the show by chance recently during the down times when I was helping set up a garage sale and I absolutely adored it. No, it is not one of the deeper more profound films I suggest for the stream of the week but its darned fun and there are moments of brilliance you don’t want to miss. Check it out.