21. TREASURE ISLAND

Annabelle, are you sure you don’t want some of this ham? Thatch asked her. It’s good.

It’s too salty for me. I don’t know why Daddy always orders ham and eggs on a roll for breakfast, and never asks what I want!

Annabelle, I’m sorry, I said. You’ve had your Fancy Feast and some dry food so you can’t be hungry! I offered some to Thatch –

She jumped onto the bureau and knocked everything to the floor, including my wallet, keys, and cell phone. Then she jumped onto the table and began pushing a large plastic container of Purina Kitty Party Mix to the edge.

Annabelle, I yelled, stop being a pain in the butt!

The Party Mix crashed to the floor.  Thank God it’s plastic and the lid is tight.  I picked it up and set it back on the table.

Pain in the butt! Thatch laughed. Annabelle’s a pain in the butt-

And you’re a little devil! I said to Thatch.

Annabelle stopped trying to push the computer off the table and jumped to the floor to confront Thatch!

Little devil! She got close to his face.

Pain in the butt!

Little devil!

Pain in the butt!

Oh, look! I said. The pigeons are here for breakfast.

They stopped calling each other names and ran for the window to visit with the birds. I picked up the other things Annabelle had thrown to the floor, put the computer back in place, cleaned off the table, and washed my plate and their bowls. When the pigeons ate all the food and flew away, Annabelle curled up in my lap, and purred and chirped, while I read the Backstage casting notices to her.

Annabelle, come play with me.

I’m focusing on my career today, Thatch.

Here, I said, you two play some CD’s. I’ve got to do my eye drops. Here’s the remote.

They were soon singing “Memory,” and they had several CDs on their play list, so I thought, good; I can do my eyes in peace. I opened the drawer where I keep my meds, and one of my three eye drops was missing.  Thatch!

All right, I thought, I’ll deal with this when they’ve finished singing to their CDs.

I tidied up the apartment, cleaned the litter, took the trash to the basement, and checked the mail box.  Their last CD was West Side Story.  As soon as Annabelle and Thatch finished “Tonight,” I jumped in.

Where are my eye drops, Thatch? I know you’ve been playing with them.

Eye drops? he asked me.  He tossed an empty aspirin bottle across the floor and chased it.

Hold on, Buster! Stop avoiding the issue.

The aspirin bottle skidded to my feet.  I picked it up as he reached for it.

Eye drops? he asked again.

You know, tiny bottle, with a green cap. Last night you were tossing it around the bed.

Oh, that. I dropped it.

So, where is it?

I forget.

Oh, go play!

I tossed the aspirin bottle to him.  He turned back to the aspirin bottle and skittered across the kitchen floor with it into the bathroom.

I needed those eye drops. The night before, Thatch had found the bottle on my bed and tossed it around until it fell under the bed. I retrieved it and turned my back for a second. When I turned back, Thatch and the bottle had disappeared. This was the second time in the past four months that he’s pulled this. He’s got a fetish for small vials that roll around, and he stores them with his toys. The one he lost the first time turned up about a month later.

Come back here, Buster!

It’s no good yelling at him, Annabelle said. He’s hidden it to play with it later. He’s such a child.

She was hobbling about on a crutch and wearing an eye patch over one eye.

Thatch! she called. Are you ready?

No, came his voice from the bathroom. I need another minute!

Well, get ready or Daddy and I will play without you.

Okay, what’s going on now? I asked. Who said I want to play?

She slapped a pirate hat on her head, and straightened her eye patch.

We’re pirates today. Ready, Thatch?

He erupted from the bathroom, waving a plastic knife in his paw. He wore a three-cornered hat that kept falling over his eyes. Aaaargh! he growled.

Wanna play with us? she asked. We’re on Treasure Island. Thatch is Jim Hawkins and I’m Long John Silver. You can be crazy Old Ben Gunn.

Shiver me timbers, I thought.

Why can’t I be Long John Silver? I asked.

Annabelle stood up straight, flipped her eye patch above her eye, and looked at me quite seriously.

Because it’s the star role and I am the star.

The cat tree became the good ship Hispaniola, and Thatch spent a lot of time sitting in the crow’s nest, lifting his three-cornered hat from his eyes to look through my opera glasses. Occasionally he yelled “Ship ahoy” while Annabelle stomped around on her crutch, muttering Aaaaargh and pretending to spit tobacco.

As Crazy Old Ben Gunn, I sat in my undershorts and T-shirt on the floor of my cave, which was actually my clothes closet, holding a small Amazon carton that Thatch calls his treasure chest. Annabelle had insisted that Old Ben really should be dressed in rags, but my underwear would be fine. I missed much of what they were up to, since Old Ben is discovered with the treasure on the island. I had to wait till they arrived.

So, I amused myself by looking through the contents of Thatch’s treasure chest: a few chewed-up feathers, a pink fishie, several empty prescription bottles, several Ping-Pong balls, Annabelle’s collar and ID she refuses to wear, a thimble that was an opening night gift for a show I no longer remember, a cuff link, one of my Mickey Mouse watches with a broken crystal, and my eye drops. Aha! We’ll discuss this later, I thought.

At one point I heard Thatch yell “Land ahoy!” and later I heard him cry, “Ow, Annabelle!” She yelled back “I’m Long John Silver!” in her best Oprah Winfrey impression.

It was warm in that closet and I dozed off.

I awoke when Thatch yelled in my ear, I found the treasure! He was standing in the entrance to the closet, holding an envelope for a treasure map.

Clever boy, Jim, said Long John Silver, who came thumping along with his crutch.

And Daddy’s here!

No, Jim, I’m Old Ben Gunn, I croaked in my best old man’s voice. Are ye here to rescue me?

No, we’re here for the treasure.

Oooooh, take Old Ben with ye, I begged. Don’t leave Old Ben here to rot.

Take the treasure, Jim, Long John ordered, and we’ll return to the ship.

Watch out, Jim, I croaked. Long John Silver abandoned me here years ago. Don’t let him fool you.

You lie! Long John Silver hit me with his crutch.

Ouch, Annabelle! That hurt.

I’m Long John Silver! I am the Pirate King, she crowed as she danced around on her crutch. Thatch applauded.

You’re also in trouble, Missy. Explain what I found in Thatch’s treasure chest.

Oh, look, Thatch, she turned to him. Daddy’s eye drops!

And Daddy’s missing cuff link and his watch, I added. How did these end up in your treasure chest? Thatch?

Thatch looked at me; he looked at Annabelle. His three-cornered hat slid over his eyes.

I found them, he whispered. I like them. They’re shiny . . .

I noticed Long John Silver had quietly sneaked away.

Come back here, Missy, I called.

Long John hobbled back on his crutch.

Do you know how these ended up in Thatch’s chest?

He must have found them on the floor.

Where you tossed them off a shelf?

I don’t know how they got to the floor . . . Well, maybe . . .

Once she realized she was caught, she imperiously stated, We artistes care little for baubles.

You’re impossible, I said, but I must admit you were a very good Long John Silver.

I was, wasn’t I?

And, Thatch, you were a cute little Jim Hawkins.

Thatch threw his hat into the air.

He was adequate, she said. Now let’s get back to me.

 

©2018, Larry Moore