4.
Milton Manor
“Ugh, microwave food
again,” Thomas said, examining the fridge’s content. “Celia, when are we going to have at least a kitchen staff?” He looked through the panoramic window. It still looked perfect, neatly trimmed…But it would be a question of a week, and the first signs of degrading would start to show. Those ferrets had put up a lot of ivy, the garden would be strangled in it. Not to mention the pool: Thomas could break his back just to keep it properly clean!
Celia put some lasagna into the microwave. “Tomorrow we’re going to start the first interviews. Should be a piece of cake, as long as we remember to put that petforsaken dog under lock and key. I am pretty sure he’ll try to scare them.”
“Speaking of which,” Thomas said, looking up at the ceiling, then at the monitor near the door, “I’ll better check up on him. With some luck, he’ll have killed that cat and we—“ ‘and we will put him under permanent veterinarian custody, so to get rid of him and keep our legacy money,’ he was going to say. An easy plan, made it easier by that dog’s sociopathic tendencies. Only Celia could come up with these solutions, Thomas was better at embezzling, frauds, anything concerning bloodless bureaucracy.
And his mind sort of short-circuited, when he saw the monitor feed.
“So? What’s new?” He barely heard his sister saying.
“B-b-b-b…” The poor human stuttered. He was as pale as a corpse.
Celia walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder to shake him out of that weird trance.
Thomas ran away, screaming like a little girl. He crashed into the window-door and disappeared in the garden, his scream fading only with the distance.
Celia sighed. “I still wonder why women are considered the ‘weak sex’.” She took the cordless and punched in a number. A moment later she said, “Animal control? Celia Milton. We have a problem.”
For once, an animal had done the right thing for her.
---
Costner House
“You look happy,” Max said, frowning at his housemate who was walking down the stairs.
Bino shrugged, his smile didn’t leave his muzzle. “So? I am going to have a nice family dinner, I am spazzy, and there’s going to be my favorite foods. With some luck, that Peanut mutt could get an anaphylactic shock… Why the long face?”
The black cat regarded Bino with renewed suspicion. “Until a few hours ago, you looked as if you’d rather cut your own arm than having this…social event. What did you come up with?”
Bino’s smile faltered a bit. “Nothing! And why are
you concerned? You had your own date to attend to, if I remember well.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “When it involves Grape, I
am concerned, mutt. Something happens to her, you’ll regret it for years to come. You know I don’t joke when it comes to her.”
Bino put his paw on his chest, solemnly declaring, “Cross my generous heart, no harm shall come to any of my most estimated guests—Ah! These must be them,” he said as they knocked at the door. Max followed him, just to make sure…And when Bino opened the door, he heard the sound of Max’s jaw hitting the floor.
And Bino himself had to admit he was…impressed. “H’lo,” he said, eventually.
“Bagù” was all Max could say.
“My head’s still over here,” Grape said to the black cat, who was intent staring at her neck, ‘covered’ by a golden chocker generously open on the front side. She also wore a white gold band on her right arm. Just a touch of makeup around her eyes completed that exotic and mysterious look.
Obviously, Bino couldn’t care less about a cat’s appearances, although he could imagine his older brother drooling without dignity. But it
was Peanut’s look that impressed him: The Canadian Pointer mix hound had replaced his collar with an elegant leather sled dog harness, which put in evidence his chest build. His fur had been ‘ruffled’ up enough to make him look as if he could be barely contained in that harness. At that moment, Bino was happy that Peanut was a cat-lover. In fact, just then Sasha said, “My my my, I can’t
believe it. In fact, there are a lot of thing I still can’t believe it, but it’s a long list and I don’t want to bore you. Welcome.” She pecked first Peanut’s and then Grape’s cheek. Bino would ask her to wash her mouth twice before going to bed. “Where are the kittens?” she asked, looking around.
“They sneaked upstairs,” Grape said. “They’re good.”
“Oh, they’ll just have a lovely time with Bosco. He said he had a secret surprise for them… Oh, I know I wasn’t supposed to say that, but he was so excited! It surely can’t be a bad thing, right Biney?”
In a surreal moment, Bino saw Sasha as the only figure illuminated by an angelic light, while the others had turned into living shadows with flaming red eyes! He managed to put up a smile, though. “Uh, of course my love. Just all the fun in the world for those adorable creatures.” He went and closed the door. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to make a run for it. They said Cuba was great in this season…
Sasha examined Grape again. “Who did this great job on you?”
“The ferrets,” Grape said. “With the consultancy of a weird pug. They are starting this…fashion shop or something and asked us to be the their frontpets or something, to advertise them.”
“Then I can’t wait to visit them, first thing tomorrow!” The female shepherd said. Then she pouted. “Aw, I hope Enzo will not be mad at me for going to a competitor.”
Bino hugged her. “My love, if the ferrets can do such a good job with you too, although you are perfect as it is, then it will be worth a try. And should Enzo protest, I’ll bite his butt-erk!” This time he had to survive the short but potent hug his wife gave him.
“Oh, Biney! You’re the most thoughtful of all dogs!”
Grape smiled at the scene. It was still weird to her that such different personalities could be bonded so deeply…
Grape turned toward Max. “I see you appreciate the merchandise, yarns,” she almost purred, running her paw along the chocker in a quite seductive fashion.
Both Max and Peanut whimpered. The cat slowly shook his head –and to think he had had his chance and let it slip, instead of
fighting for her love… “You are so beautiful,” he sighed –no, actually, he hadn’t.
The sound had come from the window.
“Friends of yours?” Peanut asked to Max.
It was like a scene from a zombie movie! A pile of tomboys was pressing against the windows, their claws out as if wanting to cut the glass. One grey tabby had already shaven 'BE MY GRAPE' on his chest.
Max ran to the window on the left. “Don’t stand there like a dummy and help me with these!” He lowered the shutters of a window. Peanut did the same with the other. Immediately, hisses of rage and scraping sounds came from the windows.
Max gulped. “Bino, my pal, I’m pretty sure you should call those ferrets
now, or you’ll be waiting until your snout gets grey.”
They knocked at the door.
“I’ll get it!” Peanut said, victim of his own reflexes.
“Peanut,
no!” Grape said, but it was too late. The dog opened the door…and found himself facing a wall of handmade signs, each one reading various degrees of doggie devotion to him and not-so-subtle requests to have his puppies! “Uh, gals, I’m really flattered but—“
“Did you hear that, girls?” Colleen said, from over her sign. “Let’s—“ she was interrupted by the door slamming shut hard against her muzzle.
Grape locked the door as if it belonged to a bank vault. “Oh, no, you won’t!” she growled as sad howls started to fill the air, together with the bangs of fists against the wood.
“I think I will just stay here, if you don’t mind,” Max gulped.
“If you want to make yourself useful, be a dear and take care of the kittens,” Grape suggested. “You do a good job, and it’ll be a date for an ice cream.”
Max nodded, the proud light of an ancient knight shining in his eyes. By now, she could’ve asked him to douse himself with gas and jump into the mouth of a dragon! “You’ll be proud of me!” and up the stairs he ran.
The lavender cat nodded, thoughtfully. “I think I will ask him out to the next Yarn Ball. If not else, to see him fight everyone who’ll ask me to dance.”
“Graaape!” Peanut exclaimed.
She stuck out her tongue at the dog. “Aw, don’t be such a killjoy. You too have become very popular, try and enjoy it.”
---
‘Enjoyment’ was the right word to describe Max’s state as he walked to the attic, the deputed playground for Bosco –daddy or not, Bino was still maniacally jealous of his own room, and had actually worked hard to rearrange the old upstairs room.
The black tomcat was humming a song. He didn’t mind at all taking care of the kittens –in fact, it made him feel like a part of the family! With some luck, he could win at least Parnok’s affection. That little rascal was really quick to learn new tricks, and it looked like he was giving Dayshaun a good taste of sibling rivalry…
He put his paw over the handle and opened the door. “Uncle Maxie’s here, litt—“ his words died in his throat at the sight.
There were the kittens, sitting in a semicircle, intently looking at a zombie! A veritable, real-unlife walking dead! And it didn’t matter that it was just a mouse rather than a human from that series. It *still* looked as if he had gone after being chewed and digested!
The thing was moaning and walking toward its ‘public’, head hanging to one side, one arm missing, the other protruded toward them. And what were the little ones doing? Looking at it with a critic expression and the female twins shaking their heads.
“Please!” Parnok said. “I’ve seen roadkill that seemed
worse than you!”
“It’s ‘looked’,” Dayshaun offered. “And that
smelled worse than you. Well, it smelled. You don’t.”
The zombie thing sighed. “TV generation: Everyone’s a critic now, sheesh.” In a moment, it regained all the features of a regular mouse. “Well, at least Bino can’t blame me for trying.”
“Is it over?” said the pup, emerging from behind Nutella and Louise. He was still trembling. The females giggled.
Mod the ghost mouse nodded. “Yes, braveheart, it is. And don’t worry, your daddy won’t know a thing.”
Immediately, Bosco stood up as much proudly as he could. “I wasn’t being scared! I-I was just watching their backs in case you wanted to try some trick!
You are not trying anything, right?”
Parnok pointed at the figure standing by the door…or, rather, laying down across the threshold. Apparently victim of a heartstroke, a flower held in his paws over his chest.. “I’d say your performance was appreciated by someone.”
Bosco went and poked Max’s still figure. “I didn’t think he could scare so easily,” he giggled, with a smirk that showed how much Bino attitude he had taken.
The kittens exchanged a look. “And what could we do with him now?” Parnok suggested. “I’m getting bored.”
Tarot’s eyes went to a big, red yarn ball laying on an old couch. She smiled like a sphinx. “I think we can work something out. Drag him inside.”
---
The Lucky Charm Grove blue-and-gold van stopped by the main entrance of Milton Manor.
Celia stood perplexed, since she had called Animal Control…Then remembered that the City Council had licensed the job to Foster’s shelter in order to save on budget money.
The woman smiled to herself –all the better, at least no one could accuse her of cruelly disposing of her pet.
The smile didn’t reach her mouth, though, as she walked toward the operators. In fact, she put up her best show as she said, “Thank heavens you’re here! My dog has gone crazy, he…attacked that cat who had come to visit, and what he did was—“ She moaned, as if she couldn’t describe the horror. And, to be honest, what she had seen
was gruesome enough, but she had seen worse during her short time at the old shelter and hadn’t even flinched. Unlike Thomas, of course, the poor dolt.
The two uniformed men looked ready for bears. Celia led the way. “He’s still in. I locked the door! Please, hurry! Oooh, that poor cat, I could’ve never imagined—“ she shuddered. She made a note to herself to try out a movie career, should worst come to worst.
“These vests are teeth-proof and these tranq guns will do the rest, ma’am,” one of them said. “You just stand aside, okay?”
They walked up the stairs and from there to the door of Volant’s room. The shelter men signaled Celia to step back. She depressed a button of the remote and unlocked the door. She was tempted to lock them in with that beast and see what would happen…but better not overdo it.
They opened the door.
“My God,” said one of them, awed. “It’s full of red.”
Red everywhere. Red blotches. Red spurts. The furniture upturned, the mattress gutted.
And there, in the corner, Volant, all dressed up in a ragtag red cape –which used to be a bedcover, towering over a grey tabby with a patch over his eye. A very alive cat, cowering like a kitten and mewing, “Oh, please Devil Dog, no! I was
forced to work for those people! I am good at heart, you must believe me!”
The men exchanged a glance –didn’t that crone say that the cat was dead and the dog was feasting on him?
The Rhodesian Ridgeback was saying, in an ominous growl, “If you’re innocent as you claim then
stand and submit to my judgment! Should you fail—Oh, hi guys,” he said, turning, as he realized there was a public. He even wagged as he waved his paw. “Cool, did you bring them to play with me, too?” He asked Celia. The poor woman looked as if she was going to have a brainstroke.
One of the men removed his glove and tentatively used his finger to collect some of the ‘blood blotch’. Then tasted it. “Strawberry?”
“Watch it!” Volant warned them. “It’s for the special effects.”
“You…you…you…” Celia was repeating like a scratched record.
Steve stood up. “We are simulating issue #4 of
Devil Dog: The Conversion of Malachite. We have a copy, do you want to compare it to this?” his arm encompassed the devastated room. He looked at the humans with a critic expression. “Though you should wear the uniforms of city Animal Control. And those should be tasers, not tranq guns. But I guess you weren’t warned.”
The humans sighed. “Sorry, sir: We were called on a...misunderstanding, Enjoy your play, all right?” They gave Celia one last warning glance, before leaving.
The woman knew that not only had her plan been busted, but that from now on Foster would keep an extra eye on her once they started to talk about her call.
She looked at the two pets as if she wanted to burn them with her eyes. She just couldn’t find words strong enough to express her feelings.
Volant led Steve out of the room. Passing by the woman, he said, “Oh, and Mom: Get this cleaned up pronto, and buy more jam: I have a lot of play to do with my new pal. And I’ll be inviting another friend too. And Steve, let me show you the chapel the ferrets built. It’ll be perfect for the next scene!” When they left, they heard her slamming repeatedly her head against the wall. “Sore loser.”
<The illusion idea on the monitor was a good one, my avatar,> a familiar voice in his mind said.
Volant smiled. <Thank you, Master. I have a lot of them, to better torture my ‘owners’ with, until your plan comes to fruition.>
<I count on that. Now go and enjoy your time as a pet, as long as it lasts.>