Adventures of a Cat-Whiskered Girl (19 page)

Sitting in a dark cell gets one to thinking.

"You know, I really want to sort out this thing between Elizabeth Van Vreemdeling and myself," I said.

"You're still convinced that you are two different people?" Molly asked.

"I'm thinking that maybe I am Elizabeth, but not entirely. I mean, maybe part of me is her, but not all of me. It's more as though I have to find her so I can do something for her. I think it could be Elizabeth who's behind all the stuff that happens to us and not Chicken Nancy and the Wolluf making up a scenario and making us act it out."

"If I were already a wise woman like Chicken Nancy, I would just explain it to you," Molly said.

"
Already
a wise woman? Are you going to be one?"

"Yes, I think so. I think I will stay with Chicken Nancy and get her to teach me the wise woman trade."

"You already have talent for it," I said. "Knowing things, and reading minds and all. By the way, what is your opinion of our present situation? Are we really in trouble or not?"

"I think we are in for a few surprises," Molly said.

The three little kids turned up in our cell—which was almost a surprise.

"What did you do with the magic bag?" the three little kids said in unison. They were floating about midway between floor and ceiling.

"Why did you give us a magic bag with a stolen golden gooser in it?" I asked them.

"You opened the magic bag?" the three little kids said all together. "We told you not to open the magic bag!"

"Well, the birdheads made us open the magic bag, and now we are arrested and awaiting trial," Molly said.

"We told you if you opened the magic bag you'd get in trouble," the three little kids said.

"Who are you, anyway, you little nitwits?" Molly asked. "And what do we need to do to get you out of our lives?"

"We are your friends," the three annoying little kids said. "We are your only friends. You are in serious trouble, and you need your friends."

"The Wolluf is our friend," I said.

"The Wolluf left town," the three little kids said. "He went to see his auntie in Wappingers Falls."

Molly and I looked at each other. Could these little nuisances be telling the truth?

"We are angelic and spiritual beings who watch over you," the three little kids said. "We never lie."

Gloom.

"Take heart, weird girl and pussycat," the three little kids said.

"I'm a girl too," I said.

"We have gifts for you," the three little kids said. "To you, Molly, we give the elf fear gong. Strike it when something frightening happens. To you, pussycat-girl, we give a trouble fez. Wear it, because you are in trouble."

I put on the trouble fez, which was a kind of hat, and Molly hit the elf fear gong. The three little kids vanished.

"These things seem to work," Molly said.

Queenie turned up. "They're coming," she said. "I couldn't find a dagger, but here's a big fork to kill Baas Kwaadwillig with."

"Get away from us, maniac," I said.

Molly hit the elf fear gong.

A bunch of men appeared in the corridor outside our cell. With them was Moon Stoats, jingling his keys. The men were all wearing golden robes and pussycat masks.

"Unlock the cell, gaoler," one of the men said. "It is time to take them to the Mystic Temple."

"They're to be hanged, aren't they?" Moon Stoats asked eagerly.

"Unlock the cell."

The guys in the pussycat masks led us out of the gaol. Under the streetlights there was a crowd waiting, and a band wearing top hats and led by a man with an open umbrella. The head pussycat-mask guy gave a signal to the open-umbrella guy, the open-umbrella guy raised his umbrella, and the musicians raised their horns and clarinets and saxophones and began playing a hot number.

With the band before us, bouncing and strutting, the leader waving his umbrella, and the crowd cheering, we started off with pussycat-mask men on all sides of us. It was a good band, and Molly and I couldn't help but march along with a bounce in our
step. The pussycat-mask men were waving to the crowd, and pretty soon we were doing it too. For a second I saw the girl who looked exactly like me, and then I lost sight of her. The guys in the band were swinging and weaving, dancing and turning, and we could see the umbrella bobbing up and down. Molly and I tried some fancy stepping, and the people in the crowd whistled and shouted.

It was a parade, a swinging parade. We swung around the corner and up another street, then up the steps and through the doors of the Temple of the Mystic Brotherhood.

The head pussycat-mask man said to us, "You are in the Mystic Temple. Behave nicely. I will take you to your seats in the Great Hall. There you will wait quietly. Baas Kwaadwillig will be here soon."

"We heard he was as bad as could be," I said.

"No, he is as good as can be," the Mystic Brother said. "Our order is devoted to justice and harmony, and he is our leader. If you are girls of goodwill and courage, no harm will come to you and you will receive the blessings of enlightenment."

"Is that a fact?" Molly asked.

"It is a fact," the pussycat-face said. "All will become clear, and you will understand everything."

"That will be a nice change," Molly said.

The seats he conducted us to were in a large room, like an auditorium, which I recognized as the inside of the Panopticon Theatre, which the Wolluf had told us it would later become.

"Speaking of the Wolluf," Molly said, reading my mind, "can you believe he took off and left us here on our own so he could visit his auntie?"

"I can't believe he has an auntie," I said.

There was a stage at the front of the auditorium, and behind it, where the screen would be, was a gigantic painting, a mural. I found it very interesting. There were some familiar things in it—Spookhuizen, for example, and the beech trees around it, and one very big beech tree, bigger than all the others. And there were flying fuzzballs, like the ones we had seen. Some of the fuzzballs looked like the fuzzballs I remembered, and some of them had cat faces in them, some had whole cats in them, and some of them
were
cats. There were also cats all around the painting, some of them drinking from saucers of milk. And that was everything in the mural—except a picture of me! I was standing next to the extra-large beech tree.

"Do you see that?" I asked Molly.

"Sure do."

"Do you understand it?"

"Almost."

"I don't think we're here to be tried for stealing a golden gooser," I said.

"Neither do I," Molly said.

The Mystic Brothers filed in to the auditorium and sat down all around us. They were more or less human, most of them. They had taken off their pussycat masks and were now wearing hats that looked like pineapples, and carrying sprigs of catnip. I recognized the voice of the one who had been the head pussycat-mask man. He stood on the stage, raised his arms, and said, "De boom is de sleutel!"

All the Mystic Brothers in the seats raised their arms and said, "De boom is de sleutel!"

"What does that mean?" I whispered to Molly.

"It's Dwergish, or something close to Dwergish," Molly said. "I think it means, 'the tree is the key.'"

"Be silent!" the guy on the stage said. "Let us
enter a state of contemplative calm. Let our minds be still. Let us close our eyes and put our hands on our knees, in the ancient posture taught to our first master by the priests of Egypt. Compose yourselves, Brothers of the Mystic Temple. The master comes!"

The Mystic Brothers put their hands on their knees and sat very quietly with their eyes closed. We sat quietly too, but we did not close our eyes. We saw the head pussycat-mask man leave the stage, and after a while Baas Kwaadwillig appeared. He had a fancier gold robe, and a bigger pineapple hat than the others. He looked as scary as the time we saw him in the street, but not as evil.

"De boom is de sleutel!" he said with arms raised, and the brothers raised their arms and responded, "De boom is de sleutel!"

"Mystic Brothers!" Baas Kwaadwillig said. "Our order is as old as the tree in Eden, as old as Yggdrasil, the tree of the world, as old as the Grizzly Giant in the redwood forest of California, as old as the Bristlecone Pine. For thousands of years we have stood for understanding and goodness, and the keeping of great secrets. Time and again we have preserved wisdom in dark times when the forces of evil have attempted to extinguish the light and to extirpate our teachings, root and branch."

"I get it," Molly whispered to me. "They're tree worshipers."

"Silence!" Baas Kwaadwillig boomed. "Tonight is a singular night in our history, for we have new candidates for membership in the order—and for the first time one of the initiates is a little girl and the other is a pussycat."

"I'm a girl too," I said.

"A little girl and another girl who is similar to a pussycat," Baas Kwaadwillig said. "Let the candidates come forward!"

"He means us," I whispered to Molly.

The Mystic Brothers sitting beside us stood up so we could make our way across the row of seats to the aisle.

"Well, let's go forward," Molly said. We went forward and stood before the stage.

"If you succeed in your initiation, you will be the first female Brothers of the Mystic Temple," Baas Kwaadwillig said. "And I suppose that would make you Sisters of the Mystic Temple. Of course, if you fail your initiation, you will die. Do you accept this?"

"Do we have a choice?" I asked.

"No."

"Then we accept," I said.

"Can you promise to be kind to animals, to change
your socks and underwear every day, or as often as is practicable, and to never eat cold beet borscht with sour cream, except in the case of starvation? Think well before you answer, for these promises are inviolable."

"You have a problem with any of those?" Molly whispered to me.

"None," I whispered.

"We promise," we both said.

"De boom is de sleutel," Baas Kwaadwillig said. "We now entrust you with the Sacred Snooker Stick, made of ancient wood. Guard it well." He handed us a long, skinny piece of wood resembling a pool cue. The Mystic Brothers applauded.

"Is that it? Are we initiated?" Molly asked.

"Not yet," Baas Kwaadwillig said. "First you must undergo the trials."

"Oh yes, the trial," I said. "About the golden gooser. Well, we can explain—"

"Silence!" Baas Kwaadwillig bellowed. "This has nothing to do with a golden gooser. You must undergo two dangerous and frightening trials—the Trial of Hot, and the Trial of Wet. Only if you survive them will you be members of our order. Naturally, if you do not survive them..."

"Death," Molly and I said.

"Death," Baas Kwaadwillig said.