The Cats of Tanglewood Forest (21 page)

“My bottles catch and hold the winds,” Old Mother Possum explained. “Not just from this world, but from all worlds—ones that were, ones that might could be. I wanted you to see that small choices can have large consequences.
So I had the bottles sing a song that opened a portal to one of those other possibilities. You ran through that portal thinking of yourself as a little girl, so that was the shape you wore on that particular journey. But as I say, it was merely one of many possibilities.”

“Do you mean it wasn’t
real
? That I was still a kitten here the whole time I thought I was a girl again?”

The possum witch nodded. “Nothing changed here while you were gone. The only place something might have been changed for you is in here.” She laid a palm on her chest. “In your heart. In how you see the world.”

“So it was… some kind of lesson?”

She supposed she had learned a thing or two. She now knew something about looking after a farm, and standing up for herself, and how true friends will stand by you, and the senselessness of holding on to old quarrels. She’d even learned that sometimes a thing was just going to happen—like if one person weren’t bitten by a snake, then maybe somebody else would be.

Old Mother Possum shrugged. “What’s important to remember is that one thing leads to another. Trouble is, it’s hard to see ahead sometimes, so I gave you a chance to do just that.”

“You didn’t turn back time?”

“I know it’s hard to understand, but there are possibilities and consequences with every choice you make. For now, just think of it like a dream, where a lot of things happened, but you were only asleep for a moment.”

“But—”

“I’m not God, kitten. I can’t turn back time.”

“Is there really a whole cottage inside that dead tree?” Lillian asked.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know how it can be, but I think there is.”

Old Mother Possum tapped a bottle tied to a nearby branch. It clinked against another.

“There
is
magic,” she said.

Lillian nodded. “But you don’t have enough magic to change me back into a girl?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“And if I do find someone to help me… does that mean the dream I had about Aunt dying and everything… will that come true?”

“That was another road from the one you’re on now, kitten. Nobody can tell where this one will take you.”

Lillian nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I won’t forget what you’ve shown me.”

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” the possum witch said.

“What do you mean?”

“Folks in your situation… Well, let’s just say it doesn’t tend to stick. The farther away you get from marvels, the harder it is to remember them. I’ve seen it happen a hundred times before.”

Lillian shook her head. “I could
never
forget all of this. I don’t want to forget any of it.”

“That’s as may be, but I will still give you the gift of memory, so that one day you will remember it all again. I can’t say when it will happen, but happen it will.”

Lillian didn’t bother to argue. She knew how impossible it would be to forget.

Old Mother Possum bent down and gave her a pat.

“Run along now,” she said. “And be careful. A kitten can seem a tasty snack to a hungry predator.”

“I’ll be careful. But I won’t give up trying to find a way to change back.”

The old woman nodded. “I understand. But consider—it might seem like a terrible thing to be trapped in a kitten’s body, but there are worse fates.”

Then she stepped back into the tree and was gone.

Lillian stared at the bottle tree for a long moment. Old Mother Possum was right about that. She’d already seen one of those worse fates.

She made her way back to where she’d left T.H., being careful not to set the bottles clinking against one another. Her paws got wet and mud-caked again, but she didn’t care. She was trapped as a kitten, but she didn’t care about that, either. Aunt was alive. That was all that mattered.

As she came to the tree line, T.H. rose up from the ferns where he’d been lying, startling her.

“So she wasn’t able to help?” he asked.

“What do you mean? She changed everything back.”

“Back to what? You still look like a kitten to me.”

“But—”

Except then Lillian realized that, so far as T.H. was concerned, the kitten she was again had simply wandered down to the pine, had a conversation with the possum witch, and then come back. He knew nothing of the months she’d spent as a girl, mourning the loss of Aunt, the journey to LaOursville, their escape, or anything.

“I know it seems like not much happened,” she said,
“but the little while you’ve been waiting here has been months for me, and for you, too.”

“Ha, ha.”

“No, it’s true.”

“How can it be true?” he asked.

So as they walked away from Black Pine Hollow, the kitten following the trail the fox took so that she didn’t fall into the water, Lillian told him all the things that had happened from when she found herself back in the body of the little girl again.

“That’s impossible,” he said when she was done.

“I was a girl, and now I’m a kitten,” Lillian said. “I can talk to animals and birds. I was supposed to die from the snakebite but I didn’t. That should all be impossible, too.”

“If any of that happened.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know what to think. The only reason your story makes any sense is that you don’t act like the same little kitten I met earlier tonight. Sometime between your seeing the witch and coming back, you’ve changed. You seem older. You don’t even talk exactly the same.”

“I learned some important things, but I’m still Lillian the girl, even though I’m a cat, too.”

The fox shrugged. “I don’t understand how you can be both a girl and a cat.”

“Here,” Lillian said, stopping at a pool of water. “Look at this.”

T.H. looked over her shoulder to see the reflection of a redheaded girl where there should have been one of a calico kitten.

“Well, I’ll be,” he said.

“Now do you believe me?”

“I have to, don’t I? But I’m still pretty sure people can’t just wander back and forth in time. What if you met your parents and convinced them not to marry? Then you wouldn’t be born. And if that’s the case, how could you go back and convince them not to marry? You see what I mean? Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”

“I didn’t really go back in time. It was just, sort of, a dream.”

“And I was in it.”

Lillian nodded. “You were. You’ve been a good friend to me all along.”

“And you returned that favor by telling the possum witch I ate her husband?”

“Of course not. She already knew.”

“How could she know?”

“She’s a witch,” she said.

He gave a slow nod. “That, at least, makes sense—so much as anything can on a night like this.”

They crossed the stream, hopping from one stone to another. Lillian managed not to slip this time. She paused on the last rock to dip one paw after another into the water to rinse off the mud.

“What will you do now?” T.H. asked.

“Go back to the farm. What else can I do?”

“But you said that your aunt doesn’t recognize you.”

“I know. But at least she’s alive. And I’ll still try to find a way to become a girl again.”

“Well, barnyards and foxes don’t mix well,” T.H. said. “People get the wrong impression when we come by for a visit.”

“Like how you might get into the chicken coop?”

He shrugged. “Everyone gets a little peckish.”

“Then it’s probably a good idea that you don’t come. Aunt wouldn’t like it, and I don’t think the chickens would, either.” She paused a moment, then added, “Does that mean I won’t see you again?”

“Come into the woods and call for me. If I’m near enough to hear you, I’ll come.”

“I’ll bring you a snack,” Lillian told him.

“You don’t have to, though I wouldn’t say no.”

Lillian laughed. “Thanks for being my friend, T.H. I think your mama named you well.”

The fox slipped away, a chuckle lingering in the air behind him.

Lillian lifted a paw and studied it in the moonlight. She’d liked having fingers again, but being a kitten was a small price to pay to make things right.

L
illian came upon Aunt still out in the fields with a lantern, calling her name. She ran through the long grass, calling out, but her cries were only meows. The lantern paused on its journey through the meadow. Aunt turned in her direction.

“Oh, kitten,” she said, “I only wish my Lillian were as easy to find as you. Where
is
that girl?”

“I’m here, I’m here! Right in front of you.”

Aunt bent down and gave her a pat. “I’m so worried about her. She’s a good girl. The only thing that would keep her away from home is if something bad
has happened to her. Oh, I’m at my wit’s end. She could be lying out there in the woods somewhere with a broken leg, and how would we find her?”

“Don’t feel bad. I’m not lost. I’m right here.”

But of course Aunt couldn’t understand her meowing. She should have asked the possum witch if she had a magic potion like the one she’d stolen from Mother Manan, except this potion would let animals talk to humans. She so wanted to tell Aunt that she didn’t have to worry.

Aunt straightened up and peered into the darkness.

“Lillian!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Can you hear me?”

Lillian didn’t bother responding. She just followed in Aunt’s wake as Aunt slowly made her way down the hill. When Aunt reached the creek, she took the path to the Welches’ farm, and Lillian trotted along behind her. The hounds began to bark as they approached the farm a while later, and Lillian gave a nervous cry. She remembered the warning Jack Crow had given her what seemed like ages ago. The dogs might be her friends when she was a girl, but when she was a kitten they’d just see her as a snack.

Aunt scooped Lillian up and continued toward the farmhouse with the dogs sniffing curiously around her. The kitchen door opened before she could reach the back porch, and Earl stood silhouetted by the light behind him.

“Fran?” he said. “What have you got there?”

“It’s just a kitten. I’m looking for Lillian. Have you seen her today?”

He shook his head. “It’s late for her to be out.”

“Don’t I know it. Something’s happened to her. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Let me get a coat,” he said, “and we’ll help you look. Harlene,” he called back into the house, “we’ve got us a situation here.”

But even with the three of them scouring the woods, they couldn’t find Lillian, because she wasn’t lost. They tramped through the woods, their lanterns bobbing in the dark. They called her name, stopping to listen for the faintest response. Finally Harlene and Earl joined Aunt under a large beech tree.

“First thing at dawn,” Earl said, “I’ll take the wagon into town and we’ll get a search party up here.”

Aunt nodded. “Thank you. I think I’ll just keep looking awhile longer.”

Harlene put her hand on Aunt’s arm. “What you need to do is get some rest so that you can help in the search tomorrow.”