Анна Керн - A Paw-sible Theory

“I know what you mean, Ethan; I’ve had some experience with that myself.” Maggie smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

If she was going to say any more about it, she didn’t get the chance. Someone was pounding on the door.

“Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods. Cats have never forgotten this.”

–– Anonymous

CHAPTER TWELVE: Decision Time

I ran ahead to see who was pounding on the door, and what was so urgent. I knew Ethan was in trouble as soon as he opened the door, and I saw Detective Smarts and his partner standing there with stern expressions on their faces. Maggie hurried to the door when Smarts asked Ethan to step off the porch. Ethan did as instructed and so did I.

“What’s this all about? Do you have a suspect?”

“We’re here to arrest you for the attempted murder of your mother, Alyx Hille.”

Ethan laughed defiantly. Maggie’s hand flew to her mouth in a gesture of disbelief.

Detective Albright read Ethan his rights. The laughing stopped once he was hand cuffed, his face devoid of any emotion, his eyes empty of feeling. I brushed against his legs offering him unconditional love and support. Ears back, tail bushed, doing my best to look as fierce as possible, I stalked over to Detective Smarts and snarled.

“Ms. Broeck, that cat is a menace and he’s not on a leash. Please take him inside or I’ll have to call Animal Control.”

Maggie didn’t comply right away; she placed a comforting hand on Ethan’s arm before Detective Smarts led him to the squad car.

“Don’t worry, Ethan; I’ll call a lawyer and get you out as soon as possible, and I’ll take care of things around here and with Alyx until you get back,” Maggie said.

“Thanks, Maggie,” was all he said.

As soon as the police had driven away with Ethan, Maggie sat heavily on the bench in the foyer, and I found a spot next to her. She buried her face in my abundant fur. I didn’t mind; she needed a hug.

“You’re lucky you’re a cat and don’t understand what’s going on,” she whispered. “Alyx in a coma, now Ethan arrested for attempted murder; what am I going to do?”

She stood abruptly. “I know one thing I’m going to do. Alyx isn’t going to like it when she finds out, but it’s for the best. His father has had a free ride for too long, if you ask me. It’s time for Bob Hille to get involved in his son’s life, whether he likes it or not.”

I also made a decision. I’m no detective, but my human family was in trouble and I was the only one who could get to the truth. Based on a hunch, I decided to conduct my own investigation. I knew there was no way Ethan had anything to do with hurting Alyx, and I was going to prove it.

The fact that Pooky had run away bothered me. I couldn’t think of any reason why she would do that––unless she saw something that might have panicked her. Maybe, I thought, Misty saw or heard something I missed. But first, I needed a snack; the shredded chicken Maggie had left on two paper plates in the dining room would do just fine.

When we were alone, Misty bombarded me with questions, some of which I couldn’t answer such as why they took Ethan away, where did they take him, and when was he coming back. I didn’t want to scare her, but I was just as bewildered by the events as she was.

As a rule, cats don’t talk but have always been able to communicate with each other, and rumor has it that some uncommon cats have the ability to communicate the same way with humans. I told Misty I had something important to discuss with her and guided her to the dining room. I jumped up on the maple dining room table surrounded by four birdcage-back chairs all refinished by Alyx. I circled the centerpiece, a large white pitcher filled with wilted, yellow roses from the yard. I accepted that what had happened was beyond my control, and explained that if Ethan went to prison it wouldn’t only ruin his life, it could damage Alyx to a point from which she might never recover. We had to help Ethan. Misty didn’t see what we, being just cats, could possibly do to help since we weren’t’ even allowed to go outside.

I thought I had been patient enough with her. I jumped off the table with fur flying; landing softly on all fours, nose to nose. There was history to prove that the Egyptians once worshipped cats as gods. True, as Misty said, that was thirty-five hundred years ago in Egypt, give or take a few hundred years, and cats didn’t have that kind of power any more but as individuals, cats still had humans in their service. Misty argued the point using Pooky as an example, how her humans abandoned her in the woods, miles from home.

Contrary to popular wisdom, a cat’s brain is structurally similar to the human brain, and I could process vital information as quickly as any animal, the only difference being that what I considered vital was not necessarily what a human would consider vital. So sometime later, safe under Alyx’s bed, I did some thinking.

From the beginning, the other two felines looked to me to explain things that they didn’t understand and generally went along with what I said, not only because I was bigger and stronger––my sixteen-pound size did help––but because I seemed to have greater knowledge of the laws, rules, and regulations that governed humans.

My decision to prove Ethan innocent didn’t surprise me when I thought about what my mother had told me when she learned that I was adopting Alyx and leaving soon. There wasn’t much she could tell me about my father. All she knew about him was that he came from a long line of great tabbies and that made me a pedigreed cat. The M on my forehead was proof of it. Unfortunately, not having the mark herself, she didn’t know exactly what it meant. My feeling was that it was just a legend, but then again, who knows?

I fell asleep with that last thought in mind and woke up hours later to Misty’s wet licks on my face, the earlier disagreement forgotten. I crawled out from under the bed on my belly, stretched front to back, sat back and washed my face. Misty helped by grooming my left ear. I sauntered to the food bowl with Misty trotting at my side. I wasn’t happy to see an almost empty bowl but I didn’t worry. Maggie had told Ethan she would take care of us, and I was sure she would, mostly because that’s what Alyx would want her to do, but also because she was getting to know our personalities and I sensed she was starting to like us.

On Monday morning, the lawn service people were busy at their work, making the usual racket associated with lawnmowers, trimmers, and leaf blowers. The commotion outside kept Misty and me on the alert inside as we ran from one side of the house to the other side.

I wasn’t expecting Maggie so early and didn’t hear her car pull up, so I was somewhat unnerved when I heard the key slide in the lock. Maggie had lied; she had let Ethan assume that she didn’t have a key when she did. I wasn’t so sure I should trust her anymore and I deliberately took my time responding when she called.

The expression on Maggie’s face was one of guilt when Misty and I showed up without Pooky, and she finally realized that Pooky was missing.

She began a search of the house; Misty following her around, helping her look in and under things. By the time she finished searching the house, the lawn service people had left. Maggie refilled the food and water bowls and went outside, a bag of cat treats in her hand. I hoped Pooky had not been terrorized out of the yard, if she still happened to be there, when the noisemakers arrived earlier in the day.

Mrs. Leary was sitting on her porch waving to Maggie, “Hold on a minute, dear, I want to talk to you,” shouted Mrs. Leary walking across the lawn towards her.