Tanno – Part VI

 The door banged open, with a snarl of profanity from the man who stood there silhouetted in the doorway. “And what the hell is going on here? First that damned cat is nowhere to be found and now the lantern must have gone out…”

Before his eyes had time to adjust to the pitch darkness of the room, which was even darker than outside where the moon had finally risen, he barged ahead and met the first of the yarn strands. Waving his arms and cursing, he blundered into still more of the yarn. Then Titania, seeing the open door and the man who had kicked her cat carrier heading her way, made a break for it. She pelted towards the door and freedom, running right between the man’s feet and upsetting his balance completely. He fell, tangling himself further in the yarn and bumping his head hard enough to stun him briefly. Miss Dixon, with great presence of mind stepped forward with the flashlight, turned it on directly in his eyes, blinding him and saying, “Don’t move a muscle.”

Sarabeth and I came up and grabbed his arms, pinning them to the floor while Miss Dixon searched him for the gun. When she pulled it out of his pocket with a cry of triumph, we all saw the fear in the man’s eyes.

“I do know how to use one of these things, so I would suggest that you cooperate,” she said with a glint in her eye as she moved to the other side of the room where he couldn’t grab the gun back. “Girls, tie him up.”

Tanno sauntered in, dragging an old length of rope that didn’t seem too rotten, and Sarabeth and I used it to tie the man to the same wooden upright he had taped me to.

When he was thoroughly immobilized, I looked at him and said, “Now who are you? And tell us now what all of this is about.”

“Yes, do,” added Miss Dixon, taking up the gun again after relighting the lantern. Over in the doorway I could see the winged cats. They were all watching the proceedings with a great deal of interest. Tanno flitted up to Sarabeth’s shoulder and draped himself there, purring.

The man glared at us defiantly for a moment, and then spat, “You don’t have a clue as to what you’ve got there – what you’ve had at your fingertips for your entire lives, had given to you freely!”

“Well then, why don’t you enlighten us?” I said smoothly. I sat down on one chair, Sarabeth took the other, and Miss Dixon sat on the bed, gun in hand. “We’re waiting.”

The man looked around desperately and then sagged. “They really aren’t cats, you know.”

“Well, since cats don’t have wings or come up with plots to catch bad guys, I think we could have puzzled that bit out for ourselves, ” said Sarabeth. “I have lived with Tanno for a long time, you know.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Just tell us what it is you think you know that we don’t,” I told him. I was way beyond annoyed.

“Some people call them the children of Bast. But I think they are older still. I think they are the brothers and sisters of the Sphinx, children of some other being even more ancient than Egypt and older than man’s history.” He looked up at us, and I could see the light of zealotry in his eyes. It was frightening.

 He continued, “I think they are the reason the Egyptians worshiped cats.” He paused.

“So…what? You wanted to worship them, so you stole them?” Sarabeth asked.

“No. I wanted to learn from them.” He looked at her and shook his head. “You actually don’t know anything, do you? And I, who know all of it…I had my destiny taken from me.” he stopped again.

He looked at Tanno, and at the other cats who were peering into the room and staring at him. “As I said, they aren’t cats, not even wonderful cats with wings. They are Historians. They soak up the times, the events, the history of things that happen, and remember it. And if you know how, you can get them to show it to you.”

We all just looked at him. Tanno jumped off Sarabeth’s shoulder and sat on the floor at her feet, staring at the man intently.

“See, he knows I’m right. I just needed to find all of the Historians, and then I could learn it all. I would know it all!” The man was getting agitated.

“And just how do you know this?” asked Miss Dixon from her perch on the cot.

“My grandfather had an Historian. He was beautiful – he looked just like an Abyssinian. My grandfather learned from him – so much, so very much. And he told me all about it. I grew to love the history more than anything, and from the time I was a teenager, I knew I was going to be the world’s expert on history – no one would ever be able to best me. I would go right to the sources. I would know where the ancient cities had been, and could be excavated. I would learn the ancient languages with ease and translate the untranslatable. It would be wonderful! I wouldn’t waste it, like my grandfather had, like everyone else has. Knowledge is power, and I would have both!” He paused in his speech. He looked more than half-mad.

Then he continued, “Then, the day I left for college, I decided I was tired of waiting. I went to my grandfather’s house and took the Historian. My grandfather wasn’t even using it for its true purpose very much anymore! He was treating it like a cat – an ordinary cat! The Historian was sleeping in a cat bed with a catnip mouse to play with. I snuck in while my grandfather was out and I took the Historian. He didn’t want to go – he never really liked me much anyway. He scratched me rather badly fighting me, and I realized then that taking him was the best idea I ever had, because he probably wouldn’t have come to me after my grandfather died since he didn’t like me. He would have gone to one of my loser cousins who would have had no more idea what to do with him than you pathetic people do. I put him in a carrier and took him with me – I left a window open so that it would look like the Historian had gotten out, maybe to look for a mate, and I left.”

Miss Dixon gasped with anger, “You took his companion? He must have been miserable without him!”

“He didn’t need him anymore, or use him. He didn’t deserve him! But it didn’t work very well. I could get some things from the Historian, memories that were close to the surface, but since he didn’t like me, I couldn’t get much. Anyway, I kept the Historian for a while and then he did run away – from me. I came home from class one day and he was gone. He apparently made it back to my grandfather, because I got a letter from the old man saying he was moving and never to contact him again.”

“What about all of these others?” I asked flatly. This man was so wrapped up in himself that no one else mattered. He was very dangerous.

“My grandfather had known others who had Historians. Sometimes they would get together, both the people and the Historians. I remembered who some of them were, but my grandfather had already warned them not to let me near them, so I started checking out their houses when they weren’t home. In one of them, I found a list of people who had Historians. Some of it was several generations out of date, but it was a place to start. So I began to take Historians, careful not to do too much in any area at any time. Mostly I took from the people who didn’t know other people with Historians, so they couldn’t warn each other. I managed to collect quite a few before you caught me.” He actually had the temerity to smirk at this.

“How do you get them to show you the history?” I asked him.

“Why should I tell you anything about it? If you were good enough to know, you would know already!” he replied arrogantly.

“You keep saying you know how to get the Historians to share their history with you. Frankly, I think you’re a nut job,” said Sarabeth angrily. She reached down for Tanno again.

The man looked at her and sneered. “You’ve had his company for how long and you still don’t know? You are pathetic.”

Sarabeth shrugged. “Maybe, but they like me and they don’t like you,” she said.

The man became furious at this, straining at his bonds, “THEY SHOULD BE MINE!” he screamed. “They aren’t pets, to like or dislike! They are a source, a tool, something to be used, like a…a …a computer! I am the only one who knows that! They should all be mine! All the knowledge, all the power!”

As he was shouting this, the winged cats, the Historians, began to come in from the other room. They all gathered around him, staring at him with jeweled eyes. Slowly he calmed down enough to notice them. He stopped, gasping for breath, and stared back. Then each cat walked slowly up to him, brushed by him once and left. We could hear the sound of their wings as they flew away, presumably heading for home. When the first cat brushed by him, he looked elated, his eyes shining with wonder. “Yes, YES!” he cried. But as the number of cats rubbing against him and leaving grew, his face changed. At first he grew sad, as if the history of all the world was weighing on him. Then the look changed to desperation, and he began to beg the Historians to leave him alone. By the time the last few left him with their gifts, the light of sanity – such as it had been – had left his eyes. He was deep within his madness by the time the last winged cat – Tanno – came to him. Tanno paused a moment and then drooped a little. Reluctantly, he went up to the man and quickly rubbed against his leg once. The man was so deep within his madness at this point that he didn’t even notice. Tanno slunk back over to Sarabeth and jumped up in her lap begging for cuddling.

“I know, sweetheart, it wasn’t pretty and you didn’t like being part of it. But he got what he wanted, didn’t he?” She petted Tanno lovingly. “All the knowledge of the history of mankind, and probably then some. Our minds just aren’t meant to handle all of that.” She shook her head.

We checked through the man’s things and found the list of Historians and people who lived with them, and anything else that pertained to them. Then we called the police. The man was no longer sane, and we had a feeling he never would be again, so anything he said about cats with wings would be seen as part of that.

When the police arrived, we had a lot of explaining to do and all without mentioning winged cats who follow cars. We also took a lot of well-meaning scolding for taking matters into our own hands, but eventually we were allowed to stumble back up the dark driveway to our car where Tanno and (surprise) Titania were waiting for us.

“It really is sad, though. He just didn’t understand, did he Tanno?” Sarabeth was hugging him for all she was worth, while Titania curled up in Miss Dixon’s lap as I drove us home.

“That stuff about Historians…”

“Is all true. I’ve been able to do that since I was little. That was why Tanno came to me so early. Aunt Daisy wasn’t as good at it.”

“No, it was more that I didn’t care as much, my dear. I love Tanno dearly, but the Historian aspect of his personality just didn’t fascinate me as much as it does you. And they do like an audience, now don’t they?” She smiled back at Sarabeth and Tanno.

I could hear Tanno purring from the back seat.

“But they don’t want to be used. They can think and feel, and they don’t like people like him, who want to treat them like so many encyclopedias, or a computer search engine.” Sarabeth scratched Tanno’s ears to their mutual pleasure.

When we got back to my house, Sarabeth plopped the information we had taken away from the man down on the table. “I guess we should contact these people, tell them what happened, and let them know their companions are on the way home.”

“That can wait until tomorrow, or rather later today. It’s Sunday, and most people will be home then. All I want to do now is go to sleep,” I said.

Miss Dixon and Sarabeth agreed, and retired to her house with the cats. I fell asleep in my clothes again.

The next day we managed to call almost everyone on the list – he had marked the ones he had taken Historians from, which made if easier. They were all ecstatic to know that their friends were on the way home. Two that lived not far away already knew – the winged cats were purring in their laps at that moment. Arrangements for future meetings were made, too, which sounded like fun. I hoped they would invite me. A few people were unreachable. At one house, we were told that the person had died a few weeks ago, right before the cat disappeared.

“They’re smart – he’ll find someone else,” said Sarabeth and Miss Dixon. We finally finished the calls only to see that while we were preoccupied, Tanno had again been playing with my yarn, and this time Titania had been helping.  Sarabeth and Miss Dixon helped me untangle the mess, laughing.

That night I actually got ready for bed in a normal manner, pajamas and all. It felt good for a change.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I was again awakened by a ripping and thumping noise. “Tanno, no,” I groaned. I turned on the light and saw, not Tanno, but another winged cat. This one was an orange tabby with a neat white bib, lightly built and very sleek.

“Well hello! Are you the one with no home?” The winged cat came over to me, hopped up on the bed and began purring as he butted his head against me.

“I guess you have a home now, don’t you,” I chuckled. “You knew a soft touch when you met one, didn’t you!” I stroked the cat and he curled into a ball beside my pillow. “I just wish you’d used the screen that was already torn instead of ripping a second one.” I lay back down, listening to the purring. “And tomorrow, I’d better get a yarn basket with a lid on it…”

-She Wolf (c)2007

Tanno – Part V

 We stayed where we were, in the end. We had hidden the car fairly well, and we wanted Tanno to be able to see us. It was warm out, and the breeze made it comfortable. Crickets were chirping a chorus all around us, and we seemed to have actually found a hiding spot that was both dry and briar-free. I was actually doing fine until Miss Dixon said something about snakes. Then all I could do was fidget until Tanno returned.

It was only about 20 minutes before we heard the rustle of his wings overhead once more. He landed in front of us, tail up, looking quite pleased with himself. He meowed at us and stood there waiting expectantly.

“Okay, let us get the car, Tanno. We’ll follow, but remember that we have to be able to see you to follow you,” I told him as we headed for the car with him trotting in our wake.

Tanno was careful to stay where we could see him. It took us a little bit longer than I expected, given how short a time he had been gone, but then he didn’t have to worry about roads when he flew; he could go directly from one point to another. We went down a long bumpy dirt road, and then suddenly, Tanno was in the road in front of us. I slammed on the brakes and heard Miss Dixon gasp as the seatbelt pulled her back sharply. Tanno remained sitting in the middle of the road, and I looked around. There was a driveway to my left, leading off into the woods. Tanno walked over to his right, and I saw a wide spot on the shoulder of the road. I pulled off there and then behind a couple of trees to hide the car. Tanno sauntered up to the car and stood there, apparently waiting for us.

Miss Dixon readily untangled her self from the seatbelt, which seemed to be trying to strangle her – it really wasn’t made for short people – and I made sure to grab my handbag-of-plenty. We followed Tanno across the dirt road and into the shadows by the side of the driveway. We tried to stick to the shadows just as Tanno did, but that bright yellow shirt of Miss Dixon’s made it really hard to hide. I stopped her and poked around in my bag, coming out with a dark blue rain poncho. Miss Dixon put it on; it was a toss up which was more noticeable, the yellow shirt or the rustling of the plastic poncho. Finally we decided to go with the poncho since the rustling might be taken for the breeze in the leaves, but the shirt couldn’t be anything but a shirt.

The drive way was long, and the side of the road was rife with sticks and rocks and ankle-wrenching holes. I was very happy to see the end of it in sight as it opened up into an overgrown stretch of ground. Pausing at the edge of the clearing, we could see the outline of a house that looked mostly fallen in on itself and a couple of out buildings in slightly better condition. Tanno didn’t stop; he continued around the edge of the yard, sticking to the deeper shadows under the trees.

After we rounded the corner and were halfway down the side, I began to hear a voice. It was raised in anger. Tanno flitted up into the air and landed in a tree half way to an old barn. Looking around carefully, we darted across the open space and joined him at the tree. We could hear the voice clearly now – it was definitely coming from the old barn, which had enough boards missing here and there to make it easy for us to hear what was going on inside.

“What did they mean by giving me this…this cat? And don’t you dare tell me they didn’t know what I meant! They knew what I wanted, and they gave me this!” I could hear something being hit or kicked; it sounded like the cat carrier.

There was a murmuring in reply – it was a woman’s voice, presumably Sarabeth’s.

 The man’s voice snarled. “Oh, I don’t think they care about you at all, or they wouldn’t have tried to pull this. Well, they aren’t going to get you back now! Maybe, if you’re lucky, someone will find you before you starve to death, but no one has been around here since I came, so I wouldn’t bet on it. You and your friends are going to pay for this, lady.” He laughed nastily. “You should have done what all the others did, and just given me what I wanted in the first place. Well, lady, I’m going to go and get what I came for and then I am leaving – without you.”

We heard a door open and slam shut again, and a car start up. It went across the clearing and over to the driveway and was gone.

Tanno wasted no time, and took off for the barn with us hot on his tail. We could hear cats meowing clearly now, just as we had in the phone messages. The door wasn’t locked, and we burst into a small room that must have been a tack or feed room at one point. It was lit by a small camping lantern, and we could see a camp bed in the corner. And there, duct-taped to a lawn chair, was Sarabeth, who gasped sharply when we burst into the room. Her face was dirty and tear-stained, but she didn’t look too bad otherwise. Tanno slipped by us and into the part of the barn where the cats were crying.

“Sarabeth! Thank goodness you’re all right! Let’s get you out of here!” Miss Dixon exclaimed. I was already on it, searching for the pocket knife in my bag. I had Sarabeth cut loose in no time and stuck the now sticky knife back in my bag. We were all talking and hugging and she was shaking some feeling back into her hands when the door burst open again.

The man from the gas station was standing there, an evil leer on his face. “You know, it’s a good thing I forgot the cat carrier and had to come back for it,” he smirked, “because I think I’ve caught myself a pair of prizes!” He pulled a gun out of his pocket and waved it at us. I gulped, and I saw Miss Dixon grow pale. He waved the gun at me. “You! Drop that bag and get that tape by the bed. You’re going to tape up your friends, and then I’ll tape you up!”

I tossed my bag in the corner, its contents spilling out on the floor, and carefully sidled over to get the tape, keeping an eye on the man with the gun the whole time. After I had tied up Sarabeth and Miss Dixon to the two lawn chairs, he took the tape from me and tied me securely to a pole in the middle of the room. “It will be a lot easier to search your houses will both of you tied up here,” he said, “And how nice that you can all keep each other company after I’m gone! It will make the time until you starve to death go by so much faster!” He used up the rest of the roll of duct tape on me and then picked up the cat carrier, dumping poor Titania out on the floor, where she scrambled for cover under the bed. He slammed the door on his way out.

None of us said anything for a few minutes, making sure he was gone this time. Then we all started to talk at once. Sarabeth told us how he had caught her by surprise after she had refused to meet with him. Tanno had apparently escaped when the man had entered the house, taking Titania with him, and since he couldn’t find Tanno, the man had taken Sarabeth instead, hoping to coerce her into telling him where Tanno was. We were telling her our part of the story when Tanno came back into the room, flicking his tail and looking annoyed.

“I think he’s angry that we got ourselves caught,” I volunteered as the winged cat sat down with his back to us and began washing a paw.

“I think you’re right,” replied Miss Dixon. “However, I think I may be able to do something about that. When you taped me up, Em, you taped the poncho. It’s too big and really loose, and I might be able to wiggle it into a position that will allow me to get it off. And he didn’t notice when you didn’t tape my hands together under it. My arms are still stuck behind me, but I think I can do this.” She put action to her words.

While Miss Dixon was wiggling, I asked Sarabeth how the man knew about Tanno, and what he was going to do with him. And for that matter, what was with all the cats in the main part of the barn that we kept hearing?

“I don’t know the answers to any of those,” she said sadly. “He refused to tell me anything. He would say that he might tell me before he left, but that was all. I haven’t been anywhere except for this room.”

Titania had seen Tanno, and was creeping carefully out from under the cot towards him. Tanno saw her and went to meet her, bumping his cheek against her side when they met. Then something seemed to catch his eye and he trotted purposefully toward the wall where my bag had spilled.

One of the things that had spilled out was my knitting. One ball of yarn was partially knitted into socks, and another ball that I had just in case I finished the first one.

“Tanno, no!” I said. “This is not the time to play with yarn! Come on, Tanno!” I pleaded with him, but he kept on going. I told my friends, “He created a genuine cat’s cradle of a mess with my yarn this morning, all over my front room…” my words tapered off as I realized the possibilities. A stringy mess from the rafters to the floor, all over the room -

I smiled as Tanno batted the first ball out and picked up the partially knitted sock in his teeth, carrying it up to the rafters. “Attaboy, Tanno, make a trap for that jerk!”

We all watched as Tanno did just that, occasionally making a suggestion. Titania cheerfully chased the other ball around until Tanno came back for it, and then she contented herself with batting at the dangling bits.

Miss Dixon continued to wiggle under the poncho, slowing moving it upward. It was slow going, because even though her hands weren’t taped themselves, they were still caught behind the back of the chair.

It had been at least an hour since the man had left when Tanno came to the end of the second ball of yarn. The whole room was strung like a huge spider web, and would slow the man down considerably when he returned. Now we just needed to get loose.

 A few minutes later, Miss Dixon finally moved the poncho up and got her arms free. She wrenched the poncho over her head and began pulling on the tape around her ankles when Tanno trotted over with my pocket knife, which had fallen out of my bag with the other things.

“Why thank you, Tanno,” she said, and quickly cut through the tape. A few minutes later, she had cut Sarabeth free, and then she squirmed through the yarn trap over to me to let me loose, too.

As soon as I was loose, Tanno came over and dropped my flashlight at my feet and stalked imperiously toward the door to the main part of the barn. He stopped, meowed at us in a demanding way, and went into the dark room. We looked at each other, shrugged, and wormed through the yarn, and followed him.

As we went through the door, I turned on the flashlight, shining it toward the meowing we could hear clearly.

The barn was full of cages and cat carriers. In each cage and in each carrier was a cat. And each of those cats had wings. There were silver tabbies like Tanno. There were also orange tabbies, jet black cats, calicos and tortoiseshells, some that looked Siamese, and others that looked like even more exotic breeds. Some were long hairs, and others were short hairs. And those were just the ones that I could see clearly. One cat, howling in a cage at the end, really caught my eye. It was pure white and fluffy with startling green eyes. It tried to raise its wings within the confines of the cage and I thought it must look like a giant dove when it was in flight.

 ”Oh my,” said Miss Dixon.

“Wow!” was my comment.

“So that’s what he’s up to,” breathed Sarabeth. “He found out about the winged cats, and somehow he found out where to find them, and now he’s collecting them. But why?”

Tanno had marched over to the first of the cages and was pushing at the door, trying to work the catch.

“He’s right – we need to let them go before we leave,” said Sarabeth and she went back for the little lantern so we could see better. So for the next little while we let cats, winged cats, out of the cages. As we let them out, they clustered around us, stropping our ankles and purring, or just followed us from cage to cage. I felt like I was in the children’s book, Millions of Cats, with the hordes of them filling the room, although there were really only fifty or sixty of them. Just as we let the last of the cats loose, we heard a car pulling up right by the barn. The cats immediately disappeared into the rafters and corners of the building and we turned off the flashlight and lantern, leaving the room entirely in the dark.

    -She Wolf (c) 2007

Tanno – Part IV

 ”Oh boy,” I said.

“Yes, indeed,” replied Miss Dixon, as she put the letter back in the envelope and stuck it in her purse. “We can’t go to the authorities about this.”

Tanno was watching us as we read the letter, his tail switching back and forth. As we looked at each other, he growled softly and stalked back into the carrier, turned his back on the opening, and refused to move.

I helped Miss Dixon finish going through the house as much as I was able to, but we didn’t find anything else. Before we left, she packed up the laptop to take along with us. “I know Sarabeth pretty well and I may be able to figure out her password,” she told me. I thought that at least we weren’t leaving it in an empty house that might be broken into again. I scooped up a few more cat toys and a container of kitty treats for Tanno on the way out.

On the way home, Miss Dixon was tense and silent. Finally she burst out, “What are we going to do now?” I just shook my head and sighed – I honestly didn’t know.

When we got home, that question was answered for us. As I let Tanno out of the carrier, I noticed that the message light on my answering machine was blinking, and the number it showed was the number on the letter.

As Tanno disappeared in the miraculous manner of cats, I pushed the button to play the message. It was brief. “If this is in reference to the cat, call me back and leave a message.” A click ended the recording.

I looked at Miss Dixon. “I think we know what we’re doing next.”

I call the number and left a message. “What do you want?” I asked tersely and then hung up.

We decided to eat lunch while we waited. Miss Dixon hurried home to get some potato salad while I put together some sandwiches. When she came back, she had Titania in her arms as well as a bag with the potato salad and some brownies that made me want to skip lunch and go right to dessert. She put Titania down next to Tanno, who had reappeared as soon as the refrigerator door had opened, and said, “She looked so lonely that I decided to bring her back over here with us.”

Titania promptly began winding herself around my ankles ingratiatingly – I was holding a slice of ham at the moment. We sat down to eat with the two cats in attendance.

I had just put a large forkful of Miss Dixon’s homemade potato salad in my mouth (it was so good I didn’t mind waiting on the brownies) when the phone rang. The caller ID identified it as our mystery man, and I almost choked trying to get the mouthful swallowed quickly so I could answer it.

“You have the cat.” He was making a statement, not asking a question. This gave me goosebumps. I could cats in the background again – lots of cats.

“Where is Sarabeth?” I countered.

“Safe. I’ll trade.” He was careful to use as few words as possible. I didn’t say anything.

“If you have the cat, bring it to the abandoned gas station ten miles north of town at eight this evening. She’ll be in the same place by dawn.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked.

His answer was short. “Trade, or I’ll come and get him.”

The phone clicked in my ear, and he was gone.

“I don’t like this,” said Miss Dixon. “What sort of trouble had my family brought to your doorstep?”

I looked over at her. She looked all of her sixty years right now, tired, worried and defeated. I smiled at her and said, “None that I haven’t invited in. Now let’s figure out what we can do to jam up his plans.” We finished eating, although lunch was tasteless now, and started to plan.

We were still discussing options when 7:15 rolled around and we knew we needed to leave. I was trying to get Tanno in the carrier when he took off and then moments later ran back into the room, chasing Titania in front of him. Deftly, he herded her into the carrier and then jumped on top of it, where he sat looking smug. Titania stuck her head out and he batted at it with his paw. She pulled it back in.

“I think he wants to try and trick the man,” remarked Miss Dixon.

I was not quite as sure of Tanno’s intelligence as she was, although he certainly had been amazing up until now. But then, I reasoned, he wasn’t just a cat. He was a cat with wings, which I would have said was impossible two days ago anyway. Why shouldn’t he know what to do?

I shrugged and closed the carrier, and Tanno marched over to the back door and peered up at the knob, waiting. I grabbed my bag, with its usual load of knitting and the multitude of items I might need someday, like a small flashlight, a lighter even though I don’t smoke, and a pocket knife that I almost forgot to take out last time I was at the airport. “Right.” I said, “Let’s go.”

Miss Dixon carried Tanno in her arms and I took the cat carrier, and we tucked everyone in the car. Tanno did the cat-compression thing where they squeeze into places you would never believe possible, and wedged himself mostly under the passenger seat. Miss Dixon put my bag in front of him, with her legs in front of the bag. No one would ever know there was a cat there.  

We set out. I was so nervous I was shaking and Miss Dixon was ashen. When we were half-way there, Miss Dixon said, “I guess we leave the carrier in the building and leave?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. Maybe we’ll know when we get there.”

Traffic in town was light, and there was no one on the road out of town. We were early, and it was just starting to get dark when we pulled up at the gas station. This had to be the one. It was not only the only abandoned gas station on the road north, it was the only building for about two miles in either direction. We both noted a small side road nearby that we could circle around to and use to hide and watch the gas station if we needed to.

“I don’t like this at all. It’s far too isolated.” Miss Dixon spoke for both of us. It was slightly windy, and the trees were making all sorts of rustling sounds, incidentally covering up any noises a person might make approaching. In the half – light, the decrepit building looked sinister. I eased the car forward until we were out from under the trees and onto an open area of the crumbling tarmac, beside the old gas pumps. I left the engine running. The door to the building was open and it banged against the side of the building in the wind. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

There seemed to be no one there, and finally I told Miss Dixon, “Switch places with me. Then you can drive over near the door and I’ll scoot out with the carrier and put it inside. If there’s someone in there, I can jump back in the car and we’ll run for it.”

She nodded, and turned around and stuck a finger in the front of the carrier. “Titania, I really hate doing this to you, my dear, but I don’t know what else we can do. We have to get Sarabeth back.” She was close to tears.

We switched places with a lot of wiggling and squirming – funny, I didn’t remember it being this hard when I was in high school – and then I pulled the cat carrier to the front and got ready to make the jump. It was truly dark now, and there wasn’t even a moon to brighten things up. Miss Dixon eased the car around. In the light from the headlights, I couldn’t see anything but a lot of trash through the grimy windows of the place. That was somewhat reassuring, anyway. She lined my car door up with the door to the building and I grabbed the carrier and jumped out of the car. I felt Tanno brush past my leg as I did so. He slipped through the door in my shadow and by the time I put the carrier down and glanced around for him, he was gone.

With my heart in my throat, I jumped back through the door and into the car, slamming the car door behind me. Miss Dixon took off, tires squealing as we made our getaway. I felt like the boogeyman was after us, and she looked like she did, too. “Tanno jumped out,” I gasped at her as we bumped back onto the road.

“I thought he would,” she answered, and as soon as we were out of sight around the curve, she turned around and got us back onto the little dirt road that led back to the area of the gas station. Miss Dixon turned off the headlights and crept back in that direction carefully. When we got near the gas station, she parked the car off the side of the road under some trees and we both crept back through a few hundred feet of woody underbrush to a ditch where we could hide and watch the building. I know I found every thorny vine there was – my arms were bleeding from a number of scratches, and from the small noises I heard behind me, I suspected that Miss Dixon had found them too.

We hid ourselves just in time. A car pulled up and moved slowly around the lot as if its driver were looking for something. Finally, it went over to the door of the building and the driver got out. The light came on in the car as he did, and we got a glimpse of him – he was dressed in dark clothing and was pasty-pale and rather small, wearing a baseball cap. He scurried inside, snatched the carrier and leaped back into the car, driving north rather quickly. A small shape slipped out of the door as the car left. It jumped into the air, flapping. Tanno swooped over our heads once and then was off in the same direction as the car.

I looked at Miss Dixon. “I guess he’s following the car for us. Shall we go back to the car and wait so he’ll know where to find us?”

-She Wolf (c)2007

Tanno – Part III

 Apparently what we were going to do first was sleep. Despite the adrenaline and all of the more-than-strange events of the previous day (and night), both Miss Dixon and I found ourselves dozing off in my living room. I would have been willing to bet my next good date that I wouldn’t have been able to sleep for at least a week, so it was a good thing that I didn’t have anyone to bet with – I don’t have enough dates, let alone good ones, to be losing them in stupid bets.

Anyway, after we had both nodded off and jerked ourselves awake again, we agreed that sleeping was the only thing we were capable of doing right now. Miss Dixon took Titania with her and I walked her to her back door. I insisted on going in with her and we did a quick walk though of her house to make sure no one was there waiting for her; neither one of us was feeling very safe right now. Then I stumbled home and locked my house as securely as I could before I retired to my bed with Tanno in attendance. The last thing I remembered was thinking with relief that I didn’t have to work in the morning.

When I opened my eyes again, the sun was well up and Tanno was no longer in the room. However, I could hear some thumping and thudding noises downstairs. Alarmed, I bounded down the stairs two at a time to save Tanno from what I was sure was a crazed catnapper.

I needn’t have bothered. It was Tanno who was making those noises. That is, Tanno and the two balls of yarn that had been in my knitting basket beside the sofa. They had been being turned into new mittens. Now they were being turned into a fair imitation of ragged light blue and dark blue cobwebs, festooning the whole front room. If you think a regular cat can make a mess with yarn, you should see what a cat with wings can do with it. I was holding my head and moaning while Tanno lovingly stropped my ankles like he didn’t know anything about any old yarn when I heard a knock on the back door.

Since apparently I had gone to sleep in my jeans and t-shirt, I went straight to the door and found Miss Dixon peering anxiously through the window. “Come on in. I just got up,” I told her.

Miss Dixon had come prepared. She had two mugs of tea in her hands and thrust one at me. “Good. I was hoping you were awake. You are awake, aren’t you? Well, this should help. Let’s go sit down. I think I may have an idea.” I wasn’t sure if the tea was supposed to help me wake up or if it was the eye-popping shirt she was wearing – bright, bright yellow with tiny pink daisies dotting it. I squinted and took the tea.

She followed me into the front room to the dining table and stopped in awe. “My goodness!”

“Yeah. It was baby alpaca being turned into mittens. Now it’s Halloween decorations, two months early.” Tanno sauntered up with a smug expression on his feline face.

 Miss Dixon looked at him. “Oh, I have some things for you, too, Tanno.” She turned to me. “Go and look on the back porch, Em.”

I went out and brought in a litter box, litter, cat food and dishes – and a catnip mouse and a little ball with a bell in it. I looked at the cat toys and snorted. I could have used the ball with the bell in it earlier – it might have saved my yarn. Oh well.  Miss Dixon must have been shuttling loads over here for quite a while.

“I knew Tanno would need a few things, and I had some extras for when I watch Tanno and Titania.” Miss Dixon had appeared behind me.

Tanno was clearly delighted that Miss Dixon had remembered him and was quite insistent about the cat food, so before we sat down with our tea he was crunching kibble out of a bowl with paw prints on it on top of the fridge.

“Now, my dear – here’s what occurred to me,” Miss Dixon began. “Last year, when Sarabeth was on a camping trip and away from civilization for two weeks, she gave me the passwords so I could check her voice mail on her cell phone and the messages on her answering machine. That was just in case there was something she needed to know sooner rather than later, you know. I was supposed to call a friend of hers if there was, and the friend would hike in and find her. Until the police will let us back in to look around her house, we can’t get to either of her phones. So let’s see if we can find anything out this way.”

I handed Miss Dixon the handset to my house phone and she was dialing away when

I stopped her. “Hold on, and I’ll put it on speaker.”
“Oh, good! That would be much better!” she replied.

Most of the stuff on the cell phone voice mail was normal stuff – a few friends and relatives, and one request from a publisher to call him back. Near the end was a message from the bookstore, asking where she was – she was scheduled for six and it was almost seven. I had left her at 5:30. This meant that whatever had happened, had happened right after I left.

We moved along to the answering machine. Again, most of it was everyday stuff. There were a couple of strange ones, though. In these, a man was saying he needed to meet her – it was urgent. He sounded stressed and upset and he had called several times over the last few days. The odd thing was that in the back ground, we could hear cats meowing – lots and lots of cats. The phone number that he gave was a cell phone number.

 Miss Dixon looked at me. “What do you say we try it, Em? Do you want to risk it?” I gnawed my lip for a minute and then said, “Why not? We can always say we’re looking for someone else and pretend it’s a wrong number.”

When we tried the number, it rang and rang, but no one picked up.

Miss Dixon called the police department next. The detective who had been assigned to the case wasn’t in, but the person we talked to told us that we could go back over to the house now; they were done there for the time being. I looked at Miss Dixon and she nodded.

I brushed my hair, slipped on my shoes and picked up my giant economy sized combination purse and knitting bag and my car keys, Tanno helping me with every step.

When we walked through the kitchen, he ran into the cat carrier that was still sitting there after last night. I called to Miss Dixon, who was already headed out the door, “Wait a minute, I think Tanno wants to go with us this time.”

She turned around, exasperated. “Tanno, I certainly hope you know what you are doing. All right, you can come.”

I shut the door on the carrier, picked it up and followed Miss Dixon out the door.

When we got to Sarabeth’s house, I was at a disadvantage when it came to searching. While I had known Miss Dixon for several years, I had only just met Sarabeth, and I didn’t have any idea what I was looking for. I felt like I was snooping around in someone’s personal life and it made me uneasy. I opened the carrier for Tanno and then stood around in the middle of the front room, uncomfortable. Miss Dixon noticed and bustled around near the desk, finally handing me a stack of mail to sort – it would be clear what was business and junk, and I could put anything that looked personal aside for Miss Dixon to look at. Most of it was opened – Sarabeth had tucked things back in their envelopes and stacked them to be dealt with later- and most of it was bills. A few coupons she wanted to keep and some non-business envelopes with handwriting on them were near the bottom of the stack. As I picked one up, I noticed that the paper inside had been crumpled up and then smoothed out and replaced. The postmark was from the next town over.  I called Miss Dixon over and handed it to her. She frowned and pulled out the sheet, smoothing it to read it. She looked up sharply and said, “I think you need to look at this, Em.”

The paper was nearly blank, but it had a few words on it in a rough scrawl: I need to meet with you as soon as possible. There was a phone number after it, the same one we had dialed earlier. Then something near the bottom of the page caught my eye, chilling me.  It was a crude drawing of a cat with wings.

   -She Wolf (c) 2007

Tanno – Part II

 I had a hard time falling asleep that night. Whether it was from all the tea I drank in the evening, or the sheer wonder of what I had experienced that day, I don’t know. Maybe it was some combination of the two. At any rate, I had barely gotten to sleep when a noise woke me up.

I thought I was dreaming at first, and rolled over to go back to sleep, but then I heard it again – a scratching, bumping noise at my bedroom window. Bearing in mind that my bedroom is in the attic and there are no tree limbs near it, this was strange. I lay completely still and listened again. It sounded like something was trying to get through the screen.

It was summer, and I like to keep my bedroom window open at night. For safety’s sake it doesn’t open more than about eight inches, even though it is second-floor height, and there is a screen over it to keep out the insects .But so help me, hard to get to or not, it sounded like someone or something was trying to get through the screen. I grabbed my cell phone and my flashlight and quietly got out of bed. Creeping to the window with the flashlight held like a club, I yanked the curtain out of the way and then jumped back and shrieked as something came through the window at me. The flashlight went flying and something soft bumped into me as I fell over a chair and landed on the bedroom floor, narrowly missing hitting my head on the sloping ceiling.

I started batting wildly at whatever had bumped into me and then got a look at it. It was Tanno. He mewed piteously and tried to bump his head under my arm.

“Tanno! What the hell are you doing here? And how did you get in?” I struggled to my feet as Tanno wound in and out around them, nearly tripping me as I went back over to the window. The screen was slit rather raggedly – as if someone’s claws had been having a workout. As soon as he had made a hole large enough for his head, it looked like he had just pushed the rest of the way through, ripping the screen the rest of the way in the process.

“Okay, that answers how – now why? And how did you get out? Never mind – probably the same way you got in here.”  I righted the chair I had fallen over and sat down in it. Tanno immediately jumped up in my lap and stood there, gazing at me with his glowing yellow eyes. I sat back, sighed, and turned on the lamp beside me.

“Something must be wrong for you to appear here like this. How did you even know where to find me? What am I going to do?”

While I was speculating and rambling out loud, Tanno jumped down and trotted briskly, tail high, to the bedroom door. He looked back at me and mewed. Since he clearly wanted to go that way, I grabbed my robe, opened the door for him and followed.

He ended up at the front door, brushing up against it, gazing longingly at the doorknob and meowing.

“Uh, uh, buddy. No can do. You are not going out there where anyone could see you. I mean, the front door? No way! Even this time of night, there are enough people coming and going that I don’t want to risk it.”  I picked him up and went over to the sofa and sat down with him in my lap, stroking him. His wings were just as silky soft as the rest of him. My hand bumped into the cell phone that I had stuck in the pocket of my robe. An idea woke inside my stunned and sleepy mind.

Talking to the cat, I said, “I guess I could call Miss Dixon. I mean, I don’t have Sarabeth’s number, and if something is wrong over there, it might not do any good anyway. I hate to call her this time of night if it’s not an emergency, but it must be, if you found your way over here. Even if it isn’t, they’ll think it is as soon as Sarabeth realizes you’re missing.”

I found Miss Dixon’s phone number on the list on my phone and hit send. A few rings later, her sleepy and confused voice answered.

“Miss Dixon, it’s Em. I’m really sorry to wake you up like this, but I think something’s wrong – Tanno just came through my bedroom window.”

“What? Tanno? Over there? I’ll be right over.” The phone clicked in my ear and in a much shorter time than I’d have thought possible, Miss Dixon was knocking on my back door.

“I came through the back way in case anyone is watching the front,” she said. “It sounds paranoid, I know, but under the circumstances I didn’t want to take any chances.” She bustled briskly into the kitchen clad in fuzzy green slippers and fuchsia sweats. She had one of those satin sleeping caps on her head to keep her hair from getting too messy – it was yellow and shaped like a daisy. I wasn’t awake enough for this; she hurt my eyes.

Tanno ran up to her and jumped up on the table to get as close to her as possible. She picked him up and started petting him as she talked. “Something must be wrong – Tanno has never done this before, not in my memory. You say he came through your window?”

“Yeah – he slit it with his claws, it looks like. Then he just came through. The sound of the screen ripping is what woke me up.”

“Well, he looks okay – at least he doesn’t seem to be injured anywhere. I tried to call Sarabeth, but I didn’t get any answer. She might be asleep, but I doubt it. She’s a pretty light sleeper.”

“I think we should call the police.” I said.

“And tell them what, that your friend’s flying cat came in your window and you’re worried about her?”

That did get a smile from me, even though I was worried. “What if we tell them that you were supposed to hear from her?”

“No, I think we’re going to have to go over there. Get dressed and grab your car keys. I’ll go get a few things and I’ll meet you by the garage in five minutes.” She stopped and turned on her way out the door. “Oh – wait. I have a carrier we can use for Tanno. I’ll meet you here in the kitchen.” She walked briskly out the door into the night.

I turned to Tanno and said, “Tanno, I have a really bad feeling about this. Why do I think I’m in way over my head here?” He just looked at me and followed as I went to get dressed.

It was ten minutes, not five before Miss Dixon showed back up. She was much easier to look at this time, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that said Dancing Queen in hot pink letters and a beat up pair of Birkenstocks. I had pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, too, and found my flashlight where it had rolled under the bed. I also had found a can of pepper spray. Miss Dixon took a look at these items and nodded. “Good. I like to be prepared.”

She put the cat carrier down on the floor beside Tanno, opened the door and tossed in a few kitty treats and a catnip mouse. “Okay, Tanno. In you go!” Tanno took one look, turned and high tailed it the other way as fast as he could. I followed and caught sight of him sailing up the narrow staircase, one wingtip brushing the wall as he flew. Miss Dixon and I chased after him, but like most cats, he could disappear when he wanted to. We couldn’t find any trace of him. I had closed all the windows when I went back up to get dressed, so he was in the house somewhere, but where was anybody’s guess.

“Apparently, he isn’t going with us,” said Miss Dixon.

“I guess not,” I replied. I shrugged and we left, locking the door behind us. I looked back as we walked through the backyard to the garage and I could have sworn I saw a smug feline face peering down at me from the bedroom window.

When we got to Sarabeth’s house, the lights were off and everything looked quiet. I drove around to the alley and we saw that the back gate in the high privacy fence was open. I knew that Sarabeth had closed it that evening when we had gone through it.  Miss Dixon confirmed that, saying grimly, “Sarabeth never leaves the gate open. In fact, she frequently puts a lock on it so people won’t get into the back yard and peer in the windows.”

I circled back around and pulled into a parking space in front of the house. “Now what?” I asked.

Miss Dixon whipped out a cell phone. “Now I try to call her again. If we don’t get any answer, we go to the door.”

Five minutes later, we were at the front door, ringing the bell. There was no answer.

“Okay, now we call the police,” said Miss Dixon.

While we were waiting for them to arrive, we concocted a cover story as to why we were there in the middle of the night. We were after Miss Dixon’s medicine, which she had left there yesterday and suddenly needed in the middle of the night. She didn’t drive and had asked me for help. We couldn’t get hold of Sarabeth and no one was answering her door, so we were worried.

We were ready when the officers arrived.

They were skeptical at first, but we told them about the gate, and Miss Dixon offered them a key to the front door. She told them she didn’t want to use it if there was a burglar inside or something. One of the men went around to the back of the house and discovered that the back door was hanging open and looked broken in – they called for backup and before we knew it, the street was full of flashing lights and people in uniforms. The police cleared the house and found no one there. Telling us not to touch anything, they escorted us inside and asked Miss Dixon if anything obvious, besides Sarabeth, was missing.

We walked around the house, and I saw what I was looking for: a screen that was torn much like mine was, except from the inside. This had to be where Tanno had escaped.

“Miss Dixon, what about Titania?” I turned to the policeman. “Her cat. Sarabeth has a grey cat named Titania.”

“Oh, dear,” said Miss Dixon, sounding flustered. “Titania! Tanny! Here, kitty, kitty!” she called. We heard a mewing outside under the window and Titania jumped up on the window sill, nosing the torn screen before she pushed into the house.

Miss Dixon picked her up and held her as we finished going through the house. There was no sign of Sarabeth, although her bed had been slept in and nothing that we could tell, not even her laptop computer or her jewelry box, was missing. Her car was in the garage and the back door was broken open. Titania had been outside, and of course, although the police didn’t know it, her other cat Tanno had escaped and made his way to my house.

The police took us back out (Miss Dixon insisted on taking the bottle of pills that she really had left there several days ago) and said they would get back to us as soon as they knew anything. Miss Dixon and I, along with a very unhappy Titania, went home to worry.

Tanno greeted us at the door, rubbing our ankles and purring, and then curled up on the sofa with a very confused Titania. I told Miss Dixon to sit down, I was going to get us something to drink. “And I don’t mean tea, either!” I told her.

“No, it’s not time for tea,” she replied, and took the glass of Jameson’s I offered her with a worried sigh. “Em, what are we going to do?”

“Let the police handle it. That’s what they do,” I replied.

“That’s fine for everyday things. But I don’t think this is everyday. Tanno is acting strangely. I don’t think this is something the police are going to be able to do anything about.”

I stared at her. So did Tanno. In fact, he got up, sauntered over to where we were sitting and sat down in front of us. He stared at us, first one and then the other. It was an unnerving, knowing stare.

I looked at him and then at Miss Dixon. “I hate to say it,” I said, “But I think he agrees with you.”

I paused before I continued, “The question is, what are we going to do?”

                         -She Wolf (c)2007

Tanno Part I

  I was on my way home from work, walking along under the trees when I heard a fluttering overhead and then a nearby voice calling, “Tanno! Tanno, come down from there right now!” There was more fluttering and the woman’s voice, closer now, called again, “Tanno, you stop bothering those birds and come down right now! You bad cat!”

I paused and turned to look at the young woman about my own age coming my way with a very determined expression on her face and a broom in her hands. She was clearly planning to wield it for something other than sweeping.

“I think he must be right up there, chasing a bird. I just heard a lot of fluttering,” I told her helpfully.

“Undoubtedly,” she replied, and started fishing around overhead in the tree limbs with the broom. Quite a bit of fluttering followed, along with several sharp meows. I couldn’t see much of what was going on because the leaves were too thick, but I did catch sight of a tabby tail and a grey wing that looked like it might belong to a large pigeon. I was a bit puzzled that the bird hadn’t flown away.

“He sure doesn’t want to let go of that bird, does he?” I commented. “Can I help somehow?”

“Yes – hold this broom while I go up after him,” she said, and jumped up, grabbing a lower limb and swinging into the tree with an impressive display of gymnastic skill.

Moments later she was inching her way out on the limb her cat had taken refuge on. I heard a small scuffle and some leaves sifted down on me, then she said, “Gotcha!”, punctuated by a feline yowl. Soon she was inching her way back down the tree with a large grey cat in her arms.

“What happened to the bird?” I asked as she prepared to drop to the ground with the cat in one arm.

“What bird?” she asked.

“The bird the cat was after – I saw his wing.”

“There wasn’t any bird,” she said as she dropped lightly to the ground. “There was just Tanno.”

I looked closely at the grey tabby cat she was holding and saw something that made me look again. What I had thought were just tabby swirls and markings on the cat’s sleek side were actually wings.

Startled, I jerked my gaze back up at the woman’s face and she nodded at me slowly with a wry smile. “Yes, you do see them. And yes, they are real. He really does have wings. And unfortunately, he knows how to use them – quite well.”

The cat lashed his tail a bit and struggled to get down. “Oh, no you don’t, Mr. Tanno. That’s enough adventuring for one day.”

The cat settled down a bit. I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, the young woman said, “Do you want a cup of coffee or tea or something? Come on, and I’ll tell you all about Tanno.”

“Umm- sure!” I said. How could I refuse? At that point I could no more not follow them than I could stop being me. I had to know what was going on.

I followed the pair down the alley and through a gate into a slightly scruffy backyard. “It’s in here – don’t mind the mess,” she said, climbing a set of cement steps into the house. We entered a glassed in storage porch and from there a large kitchen, where Tanno was finally put down. He flicked his tail again, yowled and flipped his wings, settling them neatly into position before turning his back on us and sitting down to have a wash.

“He’s annoyed with me, if you can’t tell, “the woman laughed. “I’m Sarabeth.” She extended her hand for a handshake.

“I’m Em,” I replied, shaking her hand.

“Sit down and I’ll put the kettle on and get Tanno a treat,” she said, bustling around the sunny yellow and white kitchen. I sat down at the table and looked around. There room was a study in organized chaos. Books were stacked everywhere, papers were piled here and there with various objects as paperweights on them, and a laptop computer was opened up on the other side of the table. Stained glass suncatchers and prisms hung in the big windows above the café curtains with the sun streaming through them, and the walls sported several calendars with interesting pictures – each was on a different month. Tanno finished his ablutions and wandered over to wind around Sarabeth’s ankles, clearly forgiving her for her unwelcome handling of his person. Aside from the wings, which I still wasn’t sure I was seeing, he was behaving in a completely cat-like manner. 

“All right, okay, here you go,” Sarabeth said, putting a small dish on top of the refrigerator. Tanno spread out his wings and gave a quick flap, landing beside the dish on top of the fridge. My eyes must have gotten big, because Sarabeth looked at me and said, “They really are real.” She grabbed the tea kettle, which was starting to whistle, and a couple of mugs from the dish rack. “Tea or coffee?  I have instant coffee if that’s what you want,” she asked.

“Tea.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the cat.

Sarabeth put down the kettle and mugs and pulled a variety of boxes out of a cupboard,  setting them on the table. She took the time to start her tea steeping and waited for me to do the same before she spoke.

“I  normally keep Tanno inside. It keeps him safe. I don’t want him to become a specimen in some lab,” she said bluntly, looking me in the eyes.

“I don’t blame you,” I said, nodding.

“I guess what I’m saying is, can you keep Tanno a secret? Because if you can’t… I’ll be gone by this afternoon. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again if I need to.” The look on her face challenged me. It softened slightly as she added, “I don’t like doing that. I’d rather have a friend who know about Tanno so I can be normal around someone again.” She looked up at the cat on top of the fridge.

“Fair enough. But why did you decide you might be able to trust me?” I was even more puzzled now. I wouldn’t trust someone I had just met.

Sarabeth smiled. “I know your next door neighbor- she’s my Aunt Daisy, and she thinks you can be trusted. If you hadn’t seen Tanno today, she’d have invited you over next week and arranged for me to be there, too. She said that I need a friend my own age.”

Now I smiled too. Miss Dixon was a sweet busybody, and she’d been my neighbor ever since I moved into the neighborhood.

 ”I also work at the bookstore down the street. I’ve seen you there, and I know what kinds of books you buy. I am a firm believer that the books you read say a lot about you.” She smiled. “You read fantasy and mysteries. I think you like puzzles and have an open mind and like the idea of something – not quite everyday.”

“Okay, that makes sense. I now that you mention it, I do remember seeing you both places, and your aunt already invited me. I was so busy looking at Tanno that I didn’t take a good look at you!” When I changed the jeans and sweatshirt for a skirt, sweater and boots, and the braid for a French twist, I recognized Sarabeth. “Where did you get him anyway?” I asked. “Are there any others?”

Sarabeth shook her head. “I don’t know if there are any others or not. This Tanno,” she nodded at the cat who was now washing his face on top of the china cupboard on the far side of the room from the fridge, “is the most recent in a long line of Tannos. As long as my family can remember, there has been a winged cat named Tanno that adopts one member of the family. Usually, that person has Tanno and then Tanno’s son and so on from the time they are teenagers until they are old, when the current Tanno chooses a new member of the family to live with. Aunt Daisy – Miss Dixon – had this Tanno’s father until he chose me when I was about 15.”

I was just staring at her, so she continued. “When each of the Tannos has gotten to be an old man, he finds a mate. If the person who has him doesn’t have a female cat, he’ll get out somehow and bring one home with him. They have one litter of kittens, and in that litter, one of the kittens is a grey tabby with wings. When that kitten is grown, the older Tanno disappears, somehow, and the new Tanno takes over, so to speak. The older Tanno never goes until there is a new Tanno all grown up and healthy. Don’t ask me how or why or anything else, because I just don’t know. I just know that that’s how it works.”

I was silent for a moment, drinking my tea and thinking. If I hadn’t just met Tanno, none of it would be believable. But seeing him fly from one high piece of furniture to another was pretty convincing. While I was thinking, Tanno landed on the floor beside me and jumped up in my lap, curling into a soft warm ball and purring.

“He likes you,” said Sarabeth, “and I’ve discovered that he’s a pretty good judge of character.”

I stroked the cat in my lap and finally said, “You don’t think he was out looking for his mate, do you?”

Sarabeth shook her head. “No, I have a female cat already. She’s upstairs right now, asleep on my bed if I know her. Tanno won’t have to go looking, and none of the Tannos have mated until they are ready for their replacements, so I don’t have to worry about kittens.”

She looked at me, with the cat purring in my lap. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he went looking for you.” She paused. “And maybe he did. Tanno always knows things. All the Tannos have. We may keep them safe and fed, but they keep us safe, too. Sounds strange, but then so is a cat with wings.” She sighed. “Then again, maybe he just misses being able to go outside, like he could in the country where we used to live. There’ve been a lot of pigeons teasing him lately, and maybe they finally got to him.”

There was nothing I could say to that. I sat there drinking my tea and thinking. The other cat wandered into the room. She looked just like Tanno, except for the wings, of course. Even her tabby markings mimicked the pattern his wings made.

“This is Titania,” Sarabeth said. “She’s another way I keep Tanno safe. She looks enough like Tanno that I can get away with people thinking that I only have her. So far, it’s worked.”

We chatted for another hour or so before Sarabeth had to get ready for her day job – even though it was evening – at the book store. She explained that her night job was freelance writer which also explained the piles of papers and the laptop. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t even cover all the bills, much less the luxuries, although I keep hoping that someday it will. Hence the book store job. At least it’s in a book store. In the last place we lived, I worked as a waitress. I am just not that patient! I would get grumpy back when the customers were grumpy and believe me, you don’t get good tips that way!” We laughed together and I walked home, still shaking my head at the wonder of it.

When I walked past her house, Miss Dixon hailed me. “I just got a call from Sarabeth. She says you met her today?”

 I walked up to her door. “Yes, I did – rather unexpectedly, I might add.”

“Yes, so she said, and I need to tell you that this concerns me. Come in, dear, and have some tea and we’ll talk.”

I really didn’t want any more tea at this point; I was already sloshing, but I followed her in so we could talk.

When she had us settled with tea and some mouthwatering pastries, she got straight to the point. “I am concerned about the way you met. Tanno has never done this before – not when I had him, and from all the stories I remember my family telling, not when anyone has had him.” I noticed that she didn’t refer to multiple Tannos, just the one.

“So you don’t think he was just wanting to go outside for a bit and chase the pigeons?”

Miss Dixon laughed a little. “I have no doubt that he would love to go outside and chase the pigeons, but Tanno always stays out of sight unless the person is completely trustworthy. He never goes out when he shouldn’t. He is most uncatlike in this, I know, but then he is Tanno. If he is escaping and letting himself be seen by you, when I was going to try to arrange something next week, then there must be a reason this is happening now. I am very concerned.” She fiddled with the tea things. “We live in such a strange world nowadays. People don’t believe in anything they can’t take apart and destroy in the name of knowledge. I worry quite a bit about that.” She looked at me and smiled. “Two centuries ago, I would have worried far more about Sarabeth – they would have tried her for witchcraft, but Tanno would have been able to run away and stay safe. At least nowadays I don’t have to worry about Sarabeth – and if we are careful, we can keep Tanno safe. Are you willing to help?”

Of course I was.

I just didn’t realize how soon I would be helping.

- She Wolf (c) 2007

The Door- Finis

“It is customary when setting a portal to choose one or two destinations. Unlimited portals are dangerous; one never knows what sort of world will be on the other side of the door. If an unlimited portal is set, it is recommended that the anchor end be in a place with as little magic as possible, in order that there be some control over who uses the portal. When there is sufficient magic, those on the far side of the portal may be able to open the door themselves; this may have disastrous results. Without enough magic, they may knock, but the guardian of the portal has the option of not opening the door. The maker always keys the portal to himself, as well, so he can always use the portal from either side. He can also change the destination after he opens the door, although he must keep part of himself in the anchor world to do so.”

 

 He knew the chances he was taking. That was why he had the dragons to spin in the presence of danger. He would simply set the portal in place somewhere without much magic. He made sure there was a portal that went to his home world  not too far away, but not on site. That was a rule.  If something went wrong, one didn’t want to provide easy access to one’s home. He was good, plenty good enough to manage the unlimited portal. He knew he was good. 

     The trip up the stairs was silent. Isadore wove through their legs and led the way through the door to the kitchen. At the top of the stairs, he stopped and nosed a plastic container that was tipped over on the floor and gave a silent meow. Obviously, this had been his food container and he thought it should be filled. The house was silent except for the sound of the rain and nearing thunder. Jon walked over to the kitchen table. It had mail stacked on it, with layers of dust on top. There were dishes in the sink, and in the dish drainer. The refrigerator was humming, and when I opened it up, I could see that the food in it was long past gone. What was left wasn’t even in any state to rebel. All that was left were dried up crusts and powders of things. Rob went over to the door and looked through the window. “No sign of the yard service,” he reported.

     “I don’t think the man who lived here ever left,” I said.

     “Let’s keep going,” said Jon.

     The door to the front room was nearly closed, so we bypassed it for now. In one bedroom, we found an unmade bed and clothing on the floor as well as in the closet and dresser, and a stack of books on the bedside table. The other bedroom was empty except for a bed and dresser. The bathroom had shaving things and toiletries in it, and a shower curtain with tropical fishes on it. And everywhere there was dust. Lots and lots of dust. We were uncharacteristically silent while we were exploring the house. Occasionally, one of us would go and look out the windows for the yard service, but so far we were safe. We weren’t finding anything strange or even any signs of whatever he had used to produce the stinks that
Florence had been laughing about.

     Finally, we approached the door to the front room, with Isadore going ahead of us and slipping through the crack in the door.

     When we pushed the door open, we stopped in wonder. The room was filled with table and books and strange looking apparatus of various sorts. The front window was covered over completely with a board with writing and drawings all over it. But the center piece of the room was the door, looking the same as it did on the other side, except that the dragons were moving openly, spinning in a circle around the doorknob. It was open a crack, with light coming through it. “It was shut, wasn’t it? On the other side, I mean,” said Jon.

     “I know it was. It always is. Besides, it’s storming out again, and that’s a different kind of light coming through the door,” replied Rob.

     I just stood there. I could feel something coming from the door. Something imploring me, begging for help. At the same time, I felt an overwhelming sense of danger. My heart pounding, I stepped forward, towards the door.

      Rob tried to grab at me, but I shrugged him off. Jon said, “Let her go. I feel it, too.”

     “So do I, but I also feel the danger,” replied Rob, but he let me go. They fell in behind me.

     I crossed the room slowly, carefully, waiting for something to come flying out at me, but nothing came. When I got to the door, I looked through the crack.

     There was a man there, an old man, with a beard and wild grey hair. He was wearing blue jeans and a sweatshirt, and he looked at me and blinked, in slow motion. I just stood there with my mouth open.

     “What the hell…” breathed Jon.

     “What on earth…” whispered Rob.

     The man’s mouth moved slowly, and although we couldn’t hear what he was saying, we understood what he wanted, because his hand moved up slowly, trying to reach for us. Isadore meowed and bumped his head on the door and looked up at the man hopefully.

The guys and I looked at each other.

     “He wants out.” I was stating the obvious.

     “Yeah, but how did he get there, and why is he stuck and why is he moving so slowly and where the hell has he been all this time?”  Jon exclaimed.

     “Do you think we should help him out? Something here just feels wrong,” said Rob.

     “I don’t know, but I’m willing to risk it. Isadore likes him, and he looks like the man that
Florence described,” I replied.

     We all stared at each other for a few moments, and then I stepped back over to the door.

     I reached out, along with Jon and Rob, and we grasped the man’s hand and arm. And then we pulled. We pulled hard, leaning back. I could tell he was trying to go with us, but he was like a cork in a bottle. Finally, with a slight popping sound, he came out of the crack in the door. He fell in a heap on the floor and simultaneously the back door burst open.

     We heard the glass shattering as the door crashed into the wall and then several sets of tromping footsteps making straight for the front room. The old man picked up his head and looked towards the doorway. He kicked his foot at the door, pushing it almost closed as the two whatever-they-were things from the lawn service entered the room.

     “Oh, no. Not after all this time, you  aren’t,’ he creaked at them in a rusty voice.

     “Over your dead body is how we planned to do this anyway,” the one on the left purred.

     The other one added, “What you want doesn’t matter to us. The protections are down and we are in. In just a few moments, it will all be over.”

     As they spoke, they were advancing on the door and the old man lying prone on the floor.

     Isadore hissed at them and ran between their feet, trying to get out of the room. Rob, Jon and I backed away slowly. I had never felt such evil as they exuded. I reached back for the guys and found them reaching for my hands, too. Jon pulled me out of the path to the door, as the old man on the floor gave a wheezy laugh. “Hubris. That was my downfall, too,” he said.

     The two things reached the old man as he staggered to his feet. One of them grabbed him as the other one reached for the door, opened it and stepped through.

I saw into the opening. The place on the other side of the door was not the front yard. It was some place wet and dark and foul-smelling. I could feel the evil of it rolling across the threshold. The old man grabbed hold of the man who was holding on to him and twisted, sending both of them through the door. The old man’s foot was still on this side of the door, but I could see the creature pulling on him, trying to get him all the way through.

     “More of them!”  shouted Jon, and I looked up, seeing what looked like a small army of the things, some of them only partially shaped like humans, waiting for the old man to be pulled through the door. Several of them reached out to help pull him through to their side.

     I grabbed his foot, and Rob grabbed me. As we pulled on the old man for the second time today, the scene in the door way suddenly changed and changed again. I saw a collage of scenes go by, most of them beautiful, enticing, enchanting. I smelled scents that made me ache with pleasure, and felt breezes like caresses on my cheeks. Strange sounds rang in my ears, bell-like and beautiful. And then it all stopped and the old man came sailing through the door again. Jon slammed the door shut and we all collapsed on the floor.

     As we all lay there, Isadore wandered into the sudden silence and bumped his chin against the old man, who was wheezing and gasping for breath. Finally, he spoke. “I have been in there, like a finger in a leaking dike, for far longer than I care to think. Even with stasis to keep me alive, I was almost out of energy. Had I run out of energy, they would have won. They would have seized the portal and overrun this world. I thank you.”

     “What is a portal and what the hell were they?” Jon sputtered, “and what do you mean, overrun this world!?”

     “The portal reaches other worlds. In this case, unlimited ones. In my pride, I thought that my system of using the dancing dragons as a warning for danger would keep me safe. I thought I was strong enough and smart enough not to get caught by creatures like those, who look for opportunities to invade other worlds.” He laughed mirthlessly. “If you three had not heard my summons and come to help, they would have been able to do that in a very short amount of time.”

     He told us that he had been careless, and when he had opened the portal one day to go to another world, the creatures had come through at the last second. They had meant to over power him and take control of the portal, but he had stuck himself in the gap, like a finger in a leaky dike, as he had said. He had put up protections around himself against their attacks, but in doing so, he made it impossible to get out without help. After that, it was a waiting game- would help come first, or would he weaken enough for them to finish their job? He put a protection on the house, to keep them out, and then put himself and Isadore (who had been caught between his feet when everything happened) in stasis to keep them alive longer. Occasionally, he would try to reach out for help, with either a mental summons or a display of light. He thought that someone, eventually, would come to see what was going on.

     He had felt me last week, and shown me the door to draw me closer, so I could feel his summons. Rob and Jon were drawn in when they came to look, too. Feeling this was his last chance for help, he had relaxed the stasis. Isadore had slipped out of the doorway and into the house, and the old man had sent out some of his last power to make Jon’s roof leaky and to suggest the renting of the house next door (which actually belonged to him.)

     “There was a letter, in the box at our house, and it seemed to be some sort of a warning,” said Jon.

     “Yes, my companions may very well have tried to warn me. Some of us can get hints of planned attacks like this one – from unnamed sources, of course.” He smiled wryly. “If the letter was mis-delivered, then they did not know that I was not been warned. The creatures would have been able to attack them from here when their attack on me failed. That would explain why my friends did not come to my aid.” He shook his head and sighed. “I have caused so much pain because of my pride.”

     We got him some food, and put him to bed. Then we went next door, returned the umbrella, and told
Florence that he was back. We said she might want to ask him what had happened; we knew she would never believe us.

     “Oh, and by the way, you really don’t want that lawn service. It turns out they were a bunch of bad characters.” I told her. Then we went back to the house on the other side and had several beers.

     Later that day,
Florence knocked on our door. “Come next door. He wants to see you,” she said.

     We followed her back to the house with the strange door and found the old man in the front room with a plate of  Florence’s cookies in front of him. He looked a little better, but was still very weak.

     “I need to go back to my home world, to regain my strength,” he told us. “I need strength to find a way to dismantle this portal without opening it up to the wrong worlds in the process. At the very least, I need to seal it permanently. As long as it exists, the temptation to use it or abuse it exists.  In time, someone would open it again, and then we would risk everything again.”

     We shrugged. “But what does this have to do with us?” I asked.

     He looked me in the eye. “I need someone to live here, with the door, to make sure no one uses it.” Before I could say anything else, he said, “My company, Pearsall, Inc., will pay you a handsome fee to stay here and watch over the door. You will never need to worry about money again. The house will be placed in your name. All you have to do is stay here, not leaving the house unless someone else is here,” and here he looked at Jon and Rob. “I need someone who understands exactly what is at stake. You saw what they were, and how quickly the portal works. I feel that the portal would be safe with you.”

     It took several days of arguing and discussing, but finally, in the end, I agreed. Jon was to move into the house next door, and Rob took over my house.

     The guys complained when they had to move all of my thousands of books, of course. I made the front room, the room with the door, my library. It seemed fitting that the room with the portal to infinite possibilities hold my own small portals to infinite possibilities. Isadore lives with me, and likes to curl up on shelves, among the books.

     Everything has gone just as it was supposed to.
Florence comes over to visit quite a bit- the old man told her everything, and surprisingly she believed him She door-sits sometimes so Rob and Jon and I can go out for nachos and beer. I keep busy with my books and knitting. I took up quilting, too, and have sold a few on-line.

     Sometimes I worry though, about when the old man, the Guardian, will come back. He says that time runs differently in his world. I hope he isn’t gone too long- I’d like to do a little traveling later on in life. Now that I know all the possibilities that are out there…

As you can see, my friend’s door is definitely in a category of its own. While that door can’t be moved, I liked the idea of infinite worlds to explore so I made this my door for Riversleigh. (Although my portal will lock out things I think are dangerous!) As long as we have our imaginations and creativity, my door will open.

The Door 5

     The rain brought us to our senses. We ran for the house, and, as one, with no discussion, we went straight through it to Rob’s car. Jon grabbed the cat on the way through. Once we were out on the street, I said, “My house.” It was the first thing any of us had said since we had left the alley.

     Rob nodded and then said, “Store first.”

     We looked at him and he said, “It would feel safer in a crowd right now.” He was right. I wanted bright florescent lights and lots and lots of humanity around me right now.

We left poor Isadore in the car by himself and went into the seeming safety and everyday ordinary normality of the busy discount store. We moved through it together, staying close to each other through the aisles of frozen foods and cold cuts. As the cart filled and the public address system blared out music and announcements, our sense of unreality lessened, and we made one last stop in the pet department to take care of Isadore’s basic needs. Litter box, litter, cat food, and catnip mice joined the junk food and comfort food in the cart. At the register, none of us even winced. We had been buying peace of mind and a feeling of security and that was priceless.

     No one said anything else for the rest of the trip to my house. We just took turns cuddling the cat as we rode.

     As soon as we were back at my house, the silence ended.

     “Dear God in heaven, what was that thing!?” was all I could say.

     “Wrong place. That thing never even saw the suburbs of heaven,” Jon answered.

     “That’s for sure. I don’t ever want to see anything like that ever, ever again,” Rob said.

     “But what was it?” I repeated.

     “I don’t know, and right now I don’t care,” said Jon. “Do you have any sage we can burn? It’s supposed to be good against evil spirits.”
     “It didn’t follow us, did it?” Now I was panicked again.

     “I don’t think so. We were at the store for a while, and I took a twisty route over here. I didn’t see any one following us, either.” Rob said.

     “As if something like that would need to follow us in a car,” Jon said. “Do you have any sage, or holy water, or anything?” He began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets.

     I found some sage in the kitchen, although I didn’t think it was precisely the kind he had in mind, and some sea salt. Jon went around, muttering and offering up prayers and trying to protect us against that whatever it was. Rob and I did more prosaic things like setting up the cat’s things and putting up the groceries. The cat was the least unsettled of all of us. He found a basket of hand-spun wool by my spinning wheel and set about discombobulating one of the balls. I didn’t have the heart to stop him.

     The thunder crashed and the rain came down in torrents. I started a fire in the fire place and we all huddled around it in shock. Isadore came over and curled up in my lap, purring.

     “What is going on?”  Rob said, “And what are we going to do about it?”

     “Do about it? Do you mean you want to go up against that whatever-it-was? Are you insane? No, I take that back. You are insane.” Jon turned and glared at him.

     “Think for a minute, Jon. This cat came from somewhere, probably the house. We saw something happen in the house that we can’t explain. Where’s the old man who used to be there? Is he still in there somewhere, like the cat was? I mean, if the cat could survive, maybe something is going on that would make it possible for a person to, too.”
     “Rob, how on earth is anyone going to live in there? What are you talking about?” Jon was angry now.

     I looked at them both. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Think about the door, the dreams. We don’t like to think it’s real, but maybe it is. Magic.”

     Jon opened his mouth to protest, but I put up my hand and stopped him. “No, Jon, who just went around the house and burned up my sage? Who lit the purple candles I had left over from Advent? You acknowledged it before any of the rest of us did. We all know. In some deep, primordial way, we all know. Magic. And whatever that thing was, it’s evil, and it wants to keep us out of the house.”

     I paused. “And, if it wants to keep us out of the house, that’s probably the first place we should go.” That statement dropped like a piece of lead.

     The rest of the afternoon and evening, we discussed and debated and downright argued. We argued until we were so tired from our sleepless night the night before and our unbelievable day that we could barely keep our eyes open. Finally, we agreed on one thing. It was time for bed. I retired with relief to my own bed, which I had missed, and Rob took my spare room. Jon stayed out on the couch. He said he wasn’t going to sleep anyway, so he might as well stay out there.

     Despite all that had happened, I slept like a log. When I got up, Rob was already in the kitchen, making some breakfast. Jon was “not sleeping” loudly, sprawled out on the sofa and snoring with the cat curled up on his chest. The smell of coffee woke him up shortly after that, though, and we resumed our discussion over breakfast.

     “You know, why don’t we just call the cops? That’s what you’re supposed to do in missing persons cases, isn’t it?” Jon really did not want to give up.

      I turned on him. “And tell them what? That the man who used to live there might still be in there even though he clearly made arrangements for the house to be taken care of, and oh, wait, there is some evil demon thing that’s trying to keep us out of the house? Oh, yeah, Jon, I can just hear them now. ‘Yes ma’am, and you say you just moved into the house next door and you’ve know him for how long? What makes you think he’s still in his house? And what kind of -ah- herbal supplements have you been taking?’ They’ll either think we’re nuts or we’re some kind of con artists. Take your pick. For sure they’re going to tell us to mind our own business. They may decide we’ve done something suspicious, and then we’re the ones who will be under investigation. Stunning idea, Jon, simply stunning!”

     Rob stared into his coffee cup. “I don’t want to do this either, but I think you’re right. I think we’re going to have to do this. Go into the house, I mean.”

     Jon slumped in his chair. “I know you’re both right, but I have never not wanted to do something like I don’t want to do this.”

     In the end, we agreed that we had to try to get into the house, and it should probably be as soon as possible. For one thing, if we put it off any longer, we would probably lose our nerve. We scrounged up some flashlights and Jon found a crowbar in my garage. We grabbed my cordless drill, too, because none of us wanted to go into our house. We just didn’t feel like it was safe, after yesterday. The last thing we grabbed was Isadore.

      “We need him,” said Jon. “If he was in the house, he might know something.”

      “What would he know? He’s a cat.”  Rob was skeptical. For that matter, so was I.

     “I don’t know. Cats are supposed to be sensitive to the supernatural. Anyway, it’s just a feeling I have.” Jon was clearly unsure of why he felt that way.

I understood that part. I wasn’t sure about anything to do with that house and that door and just what exactly we had to do with it. I only knew that we did have something to do with it.

     “Fine. Bring him,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.

     When we got back over to the house, it was sprinkling lightly. Our house looked completely normal, but we weren’t taking any chances. We went through the gate to our back yard, and then out into the alley. As we jimmied the latch on the gate with my knitting needle, we were surprised to see
Florence come through her back gate. She held one umbrella over her head, and was carrying another.

     “I saw you drive up and head straight for the back,” she said. “I thought I might find you back here. I thought about what you said- about thinking you saw Isadore in the house last week. And then I thought about some of the strange things I have pretended not to see over here – lights that I could blame on reflections from cars and things like that. I don’t know exactly what you have in mind to do, and maybe it’s better if I don’t, but it’s raining out, and well, I brought you an umbrella.”

     With that,
Florence handed me the umbrella and marched back through her gate. We heard the back door close. We all stood there looking at each other. Isadore decided he had had enough, and dug his back legs into Rob’s stomach, spring boarding off him onto the top of the gate and down into the yard. We took that as a sign and entered the yard ourselves.

      Rob held the umbrella over us while Jon used the cordless drill and removed the screws holding the plywood in place over the basement window. I kept a nervous lookout for the lawn service or whatever they were. In just a few minutes, the plywood was off. Jon reached in the broken window and undid the catch. He pushed it open and slipped inside. We saw a flashlight turn on. “Come on down,” he whispered.

      Rob slipped inside next, and I collapsed the umbrella and followed – quickly because it was raining harder again.

     I landed in a small puddle on the concrete floor. This seemed to be a store room, with dusty shelves and boxes. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling. We ignored it in favor of our flashlights. There was no use advertising that we were here- just in case. A noise at the window made us jump and turn. Isadore slipped through the window and landed lightly on the floor, missing the puddle. He meowed quietly and rubbed against my legs, then jumped up on a shelf to wash his face.

     “Well, he seems at home,” Jon ventured. “But then cats can seem at home anywhere if they are where they want to be.”

     “I don’t think we ever had any question that this was Isadore,” I retorted, “The question was where he had been living recently and where he had come from.”

     Isadore jumped down from the shelf and trotted out the door. Turning our flashlights that direction, we followed. The basement seemed to be all storerooms and all very dusty. Mindful that the lawn service might show up at any time, we didn’t investigate the contents of the rooms too thoroughly; at a glance, they appeared to be things that might have been sold at the online store- crystals, carvings, and the like. We did find the answer to one of our questions, though. Isadore’s litter box was down here, and it was used- recently used, and in need of a change of litter. The dust around it was disturbed, although it looked like it had been quite heavy at one time. Isadore stood at it meowing. I got the feeling that he was trying to tell us to clean the darn thing. “Okay, Isadore, how do you explain this? Where did you come from? How did you get in here?” He just stared back at me.

     “Come on, the stairs are this way,” said Rob. Jon and I followed, with Isadore trotting behind us. We could hear thunder rumbling in the distance as we started up the stairs.

The Door 4

     We all crawled back into our beds for a few hours of sleep Sunday morning. It’s just lousy when you feel hungover and didn’t have any fun getting that way. We were all groggy and cranky and arguing over silly morning things and refusing to talk about the night before when we heard the doorbell. We were jumpy enough to start swearing when we heard it. “Who the hell could that be?” Jon grumbled as he put down his coffee cup. “No one knows we live here and it’s Sunday so it can’t be the mailman.”

He dodged various tools as he went to answer the door. “Mrs. Avery! Is everything all right?”
     Rob and I followed Jon into the room to see
Florence standing there with a strange cat in her arms. The cat looked much the worse for wear- wet, skinny and bedraggled.
Florence looked very distraught.

     “No, no it isn’t.” Her voice was quivering and she held the cat a little closer. “I don’t know what is going on, but it can’t be good.” She shuffled over to the sofa and sat down.

I sat down beside her and gently pried her hands away from the cat so that it could breathe. “What’s wrong?”

     She eased her grip on the cat, who settled onto her lap in a ball, and answered. “This is Isadore. I would know him anywhere. He is Eleanora’s litter mate and I got him for the man who used to live next door when I got Eleanora. This morning- just a few minutes ago, really, I was letting Eleanora out and Isadore was sitting on my back door step. He looks awful. I don’t know where he came from and I haven’t seen him since the house has been vacant. He can’t have been in there all this time! He’d have starved to death long ago, wouldn’t he? Do you think he ran away and came back here? All of this right after we were talking about the house and you found that letter and all…”  she trailed off, petting the cat nervously. She was right. He did look awful. Clearly, he had been out in the storm the night before and he must not have eaten for days, because he was all skin and bones.

     “I don’t know what’s going on either, Mrs. Avery, but I could swear I saw that cat in the window of the house next door last week. His face markings are the same, but he looked better then.”

     Rob had quietly disappeared during this exchange and came back now with two small bowls in his hands. One was full of water, and the other contained some leftover chicken he had torn into little pieces for the cat. He put the bowls on the floor by the sofa and gently picked up the cat from
Florence’s lap, placing him down by the bowls. Isadore didn’t need a second invitation. He tucked right in.

     “Poor thing.” She reached down and stroked the cat while it ate. “What does all this mean?”

     “We don’t know either, but we’ll try to get to the bottom of it,
Florence. We’ve noticed a few odd things about the house next door ourselves,” Jon said.

     “Florence, didn’t you tell me you had a number for emergencies that you got in a letter? This would qualify, don’t you think?” I asked.

     “Yes! I’ll go get it right now!” She was out of the door like a shot.

     I looked at the cat. “Do you think this is connected to that light somehow?” For him to turn up now was just too much of a coincidence for me.

      “It must be. I am sure that this is the same cat I saw in the window,” said Jon.

      By the time she got back, the cat was done eating and was back on the sofa, washing his face. He was already looking better. “Well, I found the number- it was right where I left it- but it has been disconnected.”  Looking very puzzled, she reached over and scratched Isadore behind the ears. “Old fellow, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what is going on or how to get you home again. I’ll take you home with me for now, but you have to promise not to fight with Eleanora.”

     “He can stay here for now, if you like, Florence.” I thought Isadore was looking quite at home already anyway. “We’d like to know what is going on, too.” I gave Rob and Jon a significant look.

     “Yeah, sure.”

     “Of course.”  The guys were agreeable.

     “Thank you- Eleanora is used to being an only cat and she and Isadore didn’t always get along in the past. I think I’ll go back home now. I just don’t know what to think. Maybe I’ll put an add in the paper. I don’t know.” She started down the steps and stopped. “Oh, look. The yard service is over there and it looks like they’re hauling away a big tree limb. One must have come down in the storm last night. I wonder how they knew so quickly? I do wish I could get them to work for me!” She shook her head and started home.

     We all ran to catch sight of the mysterious yard service. There was one person in the front yard, hauling a large tree branch from the far side of the house. His cap was pulled so low we couldn’t see his face. He tossed the limb in the truck and drove away. Jon took down the license plate on the truck “No name of the yard service on the truck or his cap or anything. Interesting,” he said.

     Rob said, “I think there’s another truck in the alley. Let’s see what we can see in the back.”

     We hurried out, and risked our skins in the rose bushes by the fence to try to peer through the gaps. We could see another man there, and he seemed to be carrying a small piece of plywood around the far side of the house. A few minutes later we heard the sounds of an electric drill.

     We backed away and I said quietly, “I think the branch took out a window. Probably a basement one from the size of the wood.”
     “I think you’re right,” said Jon. “Which tells me how Isadore could have gotten out of the house if he was inside.”

     “Let’s see it the truck in the alley has any names on it. Now, before that guy gets done.” Rob sounded nervous. I couldn’t blame him. I was, too, especially after last night.

     We walked quietly over to the gate, opened it, and looked out. Jon pretended to be doing something with the trash cans and glanced down the alley. “Nothing,” he said. At that moment, the man who had been carrying the plywood came out the back gate. He looked up at us. We froze, all the way to our marrows. His body was that of a man, but what looked out his eyes was something else. It was not something nice and it didn’t like us, not one bit. Not at all.

     We were still standing in the alley, too frightened to move, when the truck drove away. It started to rain again.

The Door 3

The dragons were in place now, and activated. They were the warning system. The alarm, so to speak. If ever the dragons spun and danced, danger was nearby, trying the doorknob. If the dragons were dancing, he would know, right enough, not to open that door. Door like this one needed something to keep them safe, oh my yes, they did. Because they really weren’t safe, at all. 

By Saturday, Jon was settled in and so were Rob and I. We had decided that it would be better if we all lived there, ostensibly to work on the house, but of course in  reality to work on the house next door. We had all roomed together from time to time anyway, usually after a traumatic breakup in a relationship, so we at least knew each others’ bad habits.

The constant dreams were wearing on me, along with the unusually rainy weather. The guys were acting odd, too, and I got the feeling that they might be dreaming about the door, too, from some things they said. Finally I said something about the dreams. I had been painting the kitchen and Rob had been sanding the hallway – he had turned out to be very handy with the sander. We were taking a break and watching Jon try to take down the mailbox.

     Jon looked at Rob, kind of out the corner of his eye. Rob looked surprised, and then both of them admitted they were having the dreams, too. Rob said that his seemed worse whenever there was a thunderstorm in the night. We were having a lot of those, these days. “Then,” he said with a shudder, “It’s like there’s something that wants me to come closer, and it’s not something I want to see.” He looked pale at the memory of the dream.

     “I know what you mean. It seems to be just waiting for me to come closer. And, I don’t know, there seems to be something pushing at me to find out about that door,” Jon said as he fiddled with the mailbox. It was going to get a new coat of paint and new numbers. “I can’t really explain it. I just figured it was my imagination working overtime.”

      I had felt the same way, and apparently, so had Rob. It was really strange and a little bit embarrassing- it felt almost like we weren’t in control of our own lives right now.

We were all quiet for a few minutes and then Jon, who was still trying to get the mailbox down from the side of the house, said, “Hey, look at this!” He fished around a little more with the screwdriver, and out popped a small weathered envelope. “Who knows how long this has been in the mail box!” We crowded around him and looked at the envelope. The postmark was gone, weathered away by rain and maybe snow, depending on how long it had been there, but the part of the address and the return address were clear. It was to the house next door, although the name of the recipient was blurred out, and the return address was Pearsall, Inc.

      “Hey, did you ever hear back from the webmaster at that website?” Rob asked.

      “No, not a word. I guess we could try placing an order and see what happens. But you know what, let’s take this over to the lady in the house on the other side and see if she has any information about our mystery house.”

      “I’ll go,” I said. “I’m not going to be nearly as intimidating as either of you two lugs would be. She won’t think I’m going to mug her or anything like that.”

      “Hey, I resemble that remark!” Rob laughed. Jon just handed me the envelope.

      To make a good show, I went over to the house next door first and rang the gong-bell. I waited a few minutes, and then went over to the house on the other side. The elderly neighbor must have been watching from behind her curtains, because she opened the door almost as soon as I rang the bell.

      “You’re one of those young people fixing up that house down the street, aren’t you? Welcome to the neighborhood, my dear. Come in and sit down, have some tea. Would you like some tea? I made cookies this afternoon. Do you want some? And I can send some home with you for those nice young men…Boys always like cookies, don’t they?”

       At the same time, she was pulling on my arm with a grip like steel wires and hauling me inside. So much for little old ladies who were afraid of being mugged. On the other hand, if she knew this much about us already, there was a good chance she was a goldmine of information on the house next door. I let myself be pulled into the dark, slightly musty living room. A cat stared at me from the back of the sofa as I sat down in one of the chairs by the television. “I’m Mrs. Avery, but you just call me
Florence.” I opened my mouth to reply, but she had already left the room, saying she was going to fetch the tea and cookies. The cat – mostly white with a few orange tabby markings, including a splotch over his right eye and nose- came over and jumped up in my lap and started to purr, effectively anchoring me.

      Mrs. Avery –
Florence- was back with a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snickerdoodles in record time- she must have had it waiting in the kitchen. “I see you’ve met Eleanora. I hope you don’t mind cats. If you do, I’ll just put her out. It’s almost time for her evening hunt anyway.  Now, what can I do for you, dear? I doubt if you came down here just to say hello.
      She was sharp, this old lady. All the better for our purposes.

      “Well, yes, you see, we found this envelope in our mailbox, and it’s for the house next door, but no one ever seems to be there, and no one answered the door…” I trailed off, waiting for her answer.

      “No one’s going to answer it either. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of anyone over there for years. For a while, the fellow who lived there did some business with a mail order place, and I think it was this place on the envelope, but no one’s come or gone in quite a while. For a while I thought maybe the fellow had up and died or maybe done away with himself, but apparently, he just left and made arrangements for everything to be take care of. The lawn gets done, the walk gets shoveled, the mail gets removed when it builds up, the house even got painted a while back. Last week, the screen door on the porch got taken down and repaired and it was up again in about 15 minutes. Whoever is getting things done, I sure wish they worked for me. You just can’t find good workers these days.”

      When she paused for breath and a drink of tea, I asked, “Why do you say apparently he left- did you see him go?”

      “No, I got a letter in the mail from him. He said he had to leave, and had people taking care of things for him. He left me a number to call if things didn’t get taken care of, but that’s never happened. I don’t even know what I did with it, now. He gave me another number to call if anything bad happened to the house- that was a little bit strange, I thought. I think I still have that number. He was a nice fellow, kept to himself. I think he was some sort of geologist, with all those crystals he kept playing with. I know he did artsy-craftsy stuff, like that front door. He never used it- said it was for show only. Anybody came around, he’d shout out the front window for them to come around to the back. He showed it to me one time. It was beautiful, but way to fancy for my tastes. All of those little creatures in the vines on the sides. Make believe stuff.” She snorted. “Or maybe he was a chemist, because some of the stinks he used to make would run him out of the house. He would come flying out that back door like monsters were after him, and the stink would come all the way over here.” She laughed at the memory.

      “That letter also said that if any mail came for him that didn’t get picked up, I was to just throw it away. Anything important was being sent somewhere else, and he didn’t want to worry about it stacking up and making the house look too empty. So, if I were you, I’d just go ahead and toss that.” She handed it back to me with a flourish and picked up a crochet hook and an afghan in progress.

       The tea and cookies were excellent and the purring cat was peaceful. We chatted a while longer – mostly about knitting and crochet and her cat and gardens- I had to come back and see hers in the daylight- until I finally stood up and said I should probably go.

She nodded and hurried off to get a paper bag full of cookies for “the boys” as she put it. I went home with the cookies and a determination to go and see
Florence on a regular basis.

      When I got back, the guys were waiting for me at the door. “You were gone long enough! What were you doing?” they grumbled.

      “I was visiting. You know, being polite? She’s lonely, poor thing. And she’s very nice. And a good baker. Here- peace offering.”  I handed over the bag with the cookies.

      While they ate, I told Rob and Jon what
Florence had said.  “So, maybe we should just open the envelope and see what’s inside,” said Rob, ever practical. “It wouldn’t take much. It’s been soaked so many times, the glue’s almost completely gone.” 

      Jon picked up a screwdriver and ran it under the flap, and it popped right open. He carefully slid out the paper inside. It was quite brittle from being exposed to the elements.  He opened it and we all leaned over to see what it said.

      “It’s hard to read,” said Jon, “But it seems to be handwritten, and in real ink, like from a fountain pen. That’s why it soaked away so.” He moved it under the lamp to get a better look at it. “I can see the word warning, and secure and portal and something about a- a guardian? That’s kind of strange. It doesn’t seem to be a regular business letter. The last line is pretty legible, though- it says ‘I hope this letter has come in time for you to do something. If nothing else, flee and save yourself.’ The signature is impossible to read, though. This is really odd. It must have been stuck in our mailbox for ages! I guess he got the word somehow, though, because he made arrangements with
Florence and someone else to look after things…”

      “But how weird is all of that- warnings and guardians and secure portals and things like that?” said Rob. “On the other hand, how weird is that door?”

      “I think our lives just got whole lot stranger, guys,” was all I could think to say.

Little did I know how right I was.

      Late that night, and I do mean late, because we had to wait until
Florence had gone to bed on the other side of her house and all of her lights were out, we took our knitting needle gate opener, some small flashlight, and our courage and went next door again. We didn’t feel quite as bad on one hand, now that we knew there wasn’t supposed to be anyone there, but after that strange letter with its eerie warnings, and the dreams we had all been having,  we were quite uneasy. Once again, Jon opened the gate and Rob led the way. I walked in between the guys down the walk by the garage.

      The first thing Jon did was try the door from the garage into the yard. It wasn’t locked, but it seemed to be stuck. Rob put a little muscle into it and it opened into the musty smelling garage. We flashed our lights around. There was no car inside, and very little besides a few boxes stacked near the big door. They were covered with dust and were addressed to Pearsall, Inc. Rob picked one up. “This one isn’t too bad, must not be full of crystals, anyway.”

      The bottom one was heavy, though. Jon pulled out his Swiss Army knife and carefully lifted the paper tape sealing the first box. Inside were carvings- originals- of the dragons and gargoyles featured on the web site. The bottom box proved to be full of crystals. Amethysts, rose quartz, and smoky quartz were carefully packed in wood shavings and excelsior. We closed the boxes back up and stacked them up again. “Well, his last shipment didn’t go out. We know that. He must have been in too much of a hurry to leave to send these off.”  I said as we closed the garage door behind us.

       We poked around the little garden for a while; even untended, it was a magical place-a bit creepy in the dark- with all sorts of  little nooks hidden in the large back yard. The flowers had reseeded themselves randomly, and the rain had kept the pools filled and the benches cleaned off. The sprinkler system kept it watered. (We had made sure to wait until we heard it finish before we came over here.) Clearly the yard service must come in here a few times a year, but no more than that.

       A rustling in the bushes by the fence made us all jump. We were on edge already, what with the dreams we had been having, and the eeriness of the night-time garden. Flashing our lights over to the noise in a panic, we caught sight of a white and orange tabby body pouncing on something in the underbrush.
       “Eleanora!” I exclaimed with relief. “So this is where you do your hunting! I’ll bet this is heaven on earth for you!” The cat darted away with a mouse in her mouth, tail swishing.

       “Is that the cat you saw in the window?” Rob asked.

       “No, the one I saw had a different face- the markings were all over the face, not just in patches like this cat. Anyway, how would she have gotten in?” Jon mused.

       We finished walking around the outside of the house. There were no broken windows, and everything seemed to be sealed up tight. You couldn’t even see any cracks in the curtains, they were drawn so tight. The evening thunder storm began to move in, and our lights were beginning to fade, so we slipped back through the gate into the alley and into our own yard, to go find our beds.

      That night I was dreaming of the door again when the storm was directly over head. I woke up to an enormous flash of lightening and a crash of thunder that shook the house. The clock by my bed and the nightlight in the hall both clicked off and the house fell silent- no hum of the refrigerator or any of the other electronic noises that we take for granted.

      The huge noise and the sudden silence woke up Jon and Rob, too, and one by one we all got up to make sure everything was all right. Or that was the excuse we gave each other, anyway. Jon suggested a game of poker by flashlight, and since we were all too shaken up to go back to bed yet, Rob and I agreed. I went back into my room to get my slippers. When I looked at my window, I stopped and backed up slowly.

      “Jon, Rob, come here please, now!” I squeaked out in a tight voice. My heart was pounding, and I wondered if I was still in my dream.

      Jon and Rob heard the panic in my voice and came running.

      We all stared out the window in fear and amazement as we watched the side   window of the house next door. Even though the power was out, the window (and that window only) was lit up, like the room was flooded with light. It wasn’t a reddish, flickering glow, like a fire would cause. It was a steady, white light. It lasted for about five minutes and then slowly faded away.

      We stayed up until dawn, when the power came back on.

 

      Sometimes people just can’t take a hint, can they?