The Cats that Surfed the Web (9 page)

On the way back to the mansion, Mark suggested a late dinner at the Italian restaurant in the city, but Katherine declined. She explained she wanted to spend quality time with Abby, as well as Colleen, who would be going back to New York the following Saturday. When he dropped her off at the side door, he offered to carry Abigail inside, but Katherine said she was able. He said that if she needed anything, she should not hesitate to call. Katherine smiled and thanked him. Mark put the Honda in reverse and backed out the drive.

Katherine climbed the steps to the covered carport door and stood on the top stair, fumbling for the right key. Abigail began chirping, so Katherine gave up the search and clanged the ancient doorbell instead. Colleen opened the door, wearing a summertime barbecue apron over a green turtleneck sweater and a pair of tartan slacks.

Katherine stifled a laugh. “Where did you get that hideous looking thing?”

“I bought it at Alex’s all-purpose hardware store—three bucks. Don’t you think I’ll set a new Erie fashion statement?”

Katherine set the cat carrier on top of the dining room table. “Something smells delicious.”

“Try this on for size—tonight I’ll be serving roast beef, steamed carrots, topped with an official, properly baked, potato. Is this the new fur ball?” she said, wiping her hands on her new apron. She peered into the cardboard cat carrier. “For the love of Mary, she’s got bangs.”

“Bangs?”

“On top of her head. They're spiked. Look,” Colleen said, pointing.

“Those are stripes, not spikes,” Katherine corrected. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Abigail chirped.

“Did you hear that?” Colleen asked.

“That’s how she meows. Where are my other creatures?” she said, looking around.

“They were sleeping on your bed, so I simply closed the door. I figured you would want to introduce them to Ms. Bangs gradually,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.

“Probably a good idea.” Katherine opened the carrier door and expected Abigail to leap out, but was surprised when the cat remained inside.

“Come on, Abby. This is your home, remember?”

The Abyssinian squeezed her almond-shaped eyes, but would not budge.

“Please come out,” she coaxed.

“Come out, darling,” Colleen said, imitating Katherine.

Slowly Abigail sauntered out, eyeing Colleen suspiciously. She sprang off the table, darted into the living room, and began rubbing her neck on the furniture.

“I need to tend to my roast. Come in and I’ll make some tea,” Colleen declared as she walked back into the kitchen.

“I’ll be right there.” Katherine followed Abigail into the living room. “Are you happy to be home?”

Abigail came over and bumped against Katherine’s legs. “Chirp,” she trilled.

Katherine picked up the cat and cradled it in her arms, pulling and rubbing the fur on the back of her neck. Abby purred and squeezed her gold eyes. Then suddenly, with the full force of her back legs, she catapulted off Katherine and bounded up the stairs in a blur of ruddy brown. On the top landing of the stairwell, she belted out a loud sharp squeak, and then thundered down the hall. Katherine shrugged.
A fourth cat for the steeplechase
, she thought.

She joined Colleen in the kitchen and noticed several grocery bags on the floor. “I really appreciate your getting the groceries. Did I give you enough money?”

“Yes, with change to spare. I’m not sure people speak English around here.”

“Why?”

“I had a hard time communicating at the grocery store. When I asked a clerk where the soda was, he directed me to the baking soda aisle. When I explained I wanted a soda—a diet soda—he said they didn’t sell pop, but there were several machines up the block that did. I explained that a pop in New York was candy on a stick, and he said in Indiana that was a sucker. Did you know that in this state, bags are called sacks?”

“That's incredible,” Katherine agreed. “Hey look, the kettle is boiling.”

“Not until it sings,” Colleen said.

“Sings?”

“It has to be boiling properly.”

“For proper tea,” Katherine teased.

Abigail ran through the kitchen carrying a yarn-covered ball with a bell on it. She dropped it at Katherine’s feet.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching down and petting the cat. Abigail bounded out of the room and shortly returned with a catnip-stuffed mouse. She jumped up onto the table, dropped it, then leaped off, racing into the dining room.

“What’s with that cat?” Colleen asked.

“She’s showing me her toys. She must have a secret stash somewhere like Iris had in Manhattan,” Katherine said, then added, “I think I’ll skip the tea. I’m really tired all of a sudden.”

“Not me,” Colleen said. “I’ve been so incredibly rejuvenated today. I think I'll get my coat on and take a walk.”

“It’s freezing outside,” Katherine warned.

“After a bit of tea,” she pronounced, “a nice brisk walk will do you good.”

“I think I’ll briskly walk upstairs and join the Siamese for a little catnap.”

“In their case, I think it’s more like a siesta. They’ve been catnapping for hours.”

Katherine chuckled. “Can you keep an eye on Abby?”

“Sure. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

“Wonderful,” Katherine said, leaving the kitchen. She almost stumbled over Abigail, who was now playing with a tiny caged ball with a bell in it. Abby gave the toy a hard whack, which sent the ball and bell clanging underneath the Eastlake sideboard. Abby chirped and dashed into the living room. Katherine followed her. Abigail trotted over to the turret window and found a shaft of sunlight falling through it. She settled on her haunches, stretched her head and neck to the sunlight, and closed her eyes.

“I'll leave you here to bask,” Katherine said.

“Chirp,” Abby said softly, without opening her eyes.

Katherine studied Abby for a moment and thought about how attached she was to her already. Walking upstairs, she quietly opened the bedroom door and found three Siamese sleeping in a huddle on the tall bed. Katherine crawled on top of the bed and curled up beside them. She fell asleep immediately. She slept for several hours when Colleen shouted from the foot of the stairs.

“Dinner is served,” she said dramatically. “Katz and all kitty cats proceed to the kitchen.”

“Okay,” Katherine said sleepily. Opening her eyes, she discovered a fourth feline party in her bed—a ruddy, gold-eyed beauty, sleeping idyllically, paw-to-paw with Lilac.

“What a lovely twosome,” she admired.

Iris stormed out from under the covers, observed the interloper, and hissed ferociously. Abigail held her ground while Lilac quivered and began to whine.

“Iris, be nice,” Katherine warned.

“Asp,” Abigail said menacingly.

Katherine said to Abigail, “That’s Iris, not Isis,” and then to Iris, “Iris, this is Abby. Abby is the princess of the Nile, and you my snarling beauty are the princess of Siam.”

“Hiss,” Iris replied loudly.

“Asp.” Abigail now sounded merely suspicious.

Iris leaped off of the bed and took a position on the floor, where she could watch the newcomer's every move.

Scout, who was sleeping on Katherine's side, opened one eye, emitted a “waugh,” then went back to sleep. Abigail licked the frightened Lilac on the head. Katherine moved them next to Scout and they continued their bathing session. She got out of bed and made her way downstairs.

Colleen and Katherine relaxed over dinner and spent the rest of the evening in the parlor, sipping hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. Their quiet time was interrupted several times by cat spats in other rooms, mostly between Iris and Abigail. The throaty rumble of Iris’s growls and snarls, and the counter-defensive chirping of Abigail became progressively less frequent, as even the pugnacious Iris seemed to bore of the confrontations. Abigail held her own and was not the least bit intimidated by the loud bluffs of the seal-point Siamese.

It was late when Katherine and Colleen went to bed. Before going to their rooms, they vowed to sleep in late the next morning.

“Good night, Katz,” Colleen said, walking down the hall.

“Waugh,” Scout said, following her.

Colleen went into her room, but before she could shut her door, she had to evict the unwanted guest. “Sorry, this room is a no-cat zone,” Colleen said, escorting Scout out and shutting the door.

“Come on, kids. Let’s get our pajamas on. That includes you, Scout.” Katherine called from the end of the hall.

“Waugh,” Scout protested. She trotted down the hall. Lilac and Abigail were already in the bedroom and were crunching on dry food from their dishes while Iris peered down from the edge of the Eastlake dresser—her head angled downward like a vulture’s—ready to pounce on the unsuspecting orphan below.

“Iris,” Katherine warned. “Be good. Remember, Abby is from Egypt and she might send you another snake.”

“Yowl,” Iris complained.

*  *  *  *

The next morning Katherine struggled out of bed at ten-thirty. She met Colleen in the hallway. Colleen's face was smeared with a green facial mask.

“You look a fright,” Katherine said. “I hate to tell you this, but someone really screwed up at the cosmetic counter.”

“It’s natural clay,” Colleen boasted.

“Clay is gray or red. Trust me, you’re
green
.”

Scout trotted down the hall and stopped dead in her tracks. She gazed intently at Colleen, then spat a hiss. She scurried downstairs.

“I’ve got to wash this mess off.”

“Did I hear the phone ring?” Katherine asked.

“You won’t believe who called me.”

“Who has the number here?”

“My Mum gave it to Jacky, who gave it to Mario. He called me. Can you believe it? He asked me out for next weekend.”

“For a second date? Good work, Mario.”

“You won’t believe what he sang to me?”

“Let me guess—a bit of
Gangnam Style
?”

“
Uptown Girl
. She’s been living in her uptown world . . .” Colleen launched into a female rendition of Billy Joel’s famous song, complete with Irish brogue intonations.

“Stop,” Katherine said, covering her ears.

Colleen exploded with laughter and went into the bathroom.

*  *  *  *

For a couple of hours during the afternoon, the outside temperature warmed up to forty degrees, which allowed Katherine to open the front door for half an hour to air out the stuffy house. While Katherine was busy cleaning upstairs, Colleen was working downstairs. They had flipped a coin—heads for upstairs and tails for downstairs. Katherine picked heads and was relieved she didn’t have to tackle the kitchen. Colleen was elated that she didn’t have to do cat litter patrol. Every once in a while, the two would stop to take a few sips of sweet tea, call up and down to each other, and discuss the latest antics by one or more of the four cats. Each discussion began with “You’ll not believe what so-and-so just did”. They would laugh and then resume their frenzied cleaning activity.

Occasionally the Siamese would hinder their efforts. Lilac was terrified of the vacuum cleaner and had to be consoled after each room was swept. In the kitchen while Colleen tried to sweep, Iris stalked the broom. Several times she pounced on the bristles, used them as a springboard, and scurried to another part of the house. Scout prowled restlessly, walking back and forth the full length of the living room. She stopped to rub each piece of furniture with her jaw, marking and remarking her new territory. Each time a piece of furniture was waxed, Scout would dance across it, leaving fresh paw prints in her wake. Meanwhile, Abigail had climbed to the top of a window valance and quietly observed the scene below.

After several hours, Katherine called from the top of the stairs, “Are you finished with the vacuum cleaner?”

“Yes, Katz,” Colleen yelled from the walk-in closet in the atrium. “Come down here for a minute. I want you to show you something.”

Katherine hurried down the stairs two at a time, “What?”

Colleen was pointing at a brand new Hoover packing box. “I had to unpack it to use it.”

“Wow, no wonder the house was so dusty,” Katherine joked. “Mark mentioned that my great aunt made a charitable gift to some organization, which would explain all the empty closets and replacement appliances.”

“Can’t complain about new,” Colleen shrugged with a smile.

At two p.m., Colleen and Katherine stopped long enough to eat sandwiches and then returned to their work. At four they threw in the towel. Colleen went off to the kitchen to brew some flavored coffee, while Katherine put away the vacuum sweeper in the near empty cloak closet. When she joined Colleen in the kitchen she inhaled deeply. “Hazelnut. My favorite.”

In another room, something large and heavy crashed to the floor.

“Did you hear that?” Katherine said.

“What have they done now?” Colleen threw her hands in the air. “Shouldn’t we go upstairs and check?”