By my current estimation Stella only has about three lives left.
This morning as I prepared the kitty cleanup, which is my term for cleaning the litter and washing their breakfast dishes, I heard a thud, followed by my iTunes shutting down at about the 10th-20th bar of a Bach Advent cantata I had just started. I came into the living area to find everything connected to the power cable – including the computer, printer, and work light – were dead. Sure enough, a cat’s climbing had sent a book of music over the back of a filing cabinet and the fall had dislodged the power cable’s plug from the wall socket.
Okay, I said. Who did this? I looked about: Thatch was in the cat tree, Annabelle was sleeping on the chair by my work table, and Stella was casually walking from behind the book cases next to the computer and ready to play. I should have known Stella was the culprit. I called her some choice words and went off to finish kitty cleanup. I needed to calm down before I started moving all the crap I needed to move to reach the wall socket behind the filing cabinet.
Kitty cleanup accomplished, I got the dustbuster, a flashlight, and repaired the damage. Stella of course wanted to help. I suggested she run for her life. I got down on my hands and knees, crawled under the table, set up the flashlight, located the plug, fortunately hanging to the edge of the socket, re-inserted it, and relaxed when the floor lamp lit up. I sighed with pleasure at the first sound of the printer returning to life.
Yes! I said, as I backed out from under the table.
Daddy, Annabelle said, wasn’t it nice to see Detective Kibble the other day?
I’m just glad he was there before you were hurt. Promise me you won’t do that again.
I like Det. Kibble. Do you like him?
Well, I said as I stood up and moved the computer table back into place, I don’t know him. He seems nice enough.
I think he likes you.
Really? Well, I don’t dislike him.
That’s nice.
As she wailed away, I would swear she was singing “I Love A Cop” from Fiorello under her breath. Did Annabelle have a crush on Det. Kibble? Stella, completely unaware of how close to death she was, jumped on my foot and bit my ankle. By the time I shook her off, Annabelle and Thatch had vanished into the linen closet. I could hear them rehearsing their carols.
The next day, when I came in from seeing my friend Josh at City Center, there was no sign of Annabelle or Thatch. Stella was lying on my bed. Stella? Do you know where your brother and sister are? I asked.
She, of course, said nothing. She looked at me with her usual expression of “any food?” and “why are you bothering me?” Then she rose, stretched, and jumped off the bed to climb onto my shoe and bite ankle.
Well, I told her, let’s go see if they’re helping Val. I picked her up and set her on my shoulder. We rode the elevator to the basement. Val was playing in his office, listening to the radio and tinkering with some motor.
Hey, Val, have you seen A & T? I asked him.
I saw them earlier in the lobby. Did you lose them?
I don’t know yet. I just can’t find them. Ever since they were lost, I worry about then when they’re out of sight.
They’re just getting into mischief somewhere.
I hope so. I worry because the Man with the Bike-
Who moved his bike, by the way, Val added tactfully.
Yep. Finally! I don’t have to stumble over it in the hall. We both know he doesn’t like them, and I don’t want him hurting them.
It wouldn’t be obvious. He’s a sneaky bastard.
I still worry. Well, let me and Stella see if we can find them,
If you need me, call.
You know I will!
So, after a thorough search of the building, I determined they were missing again. Not again! I told Stella as we headed back to the apartment. Just as we reached the door, the phone began to ring. I set Stella down and answered it.
Hello?
Mr. Moore? It’s Det. Kibble. I’ve got two cats caroling and dancing on my desk. I think they might be yours.
What? Annabelle’s in your office?
Oh, more than that. She’s dancing in my office. The orange and white one is singing “Frosty the Snowman” – can you hear him? – and Annabelle’s been dancing across my desk while he sings.
All right. I’ll be right down for them. I’m so sorry about this. Let me get a carrier. Yeah, let me get organized. I’ll see you soon.
When I walked into the precinct, the officer at the window took one look at the carrier and said. Let me guess. Det. Kibble?
Yes, I said sheepishly.
When I got to his office, Thatch sat demurely on the desk. Annabelle had wrapped herself around Kibble’s shoulders. Hello, Mr. Moore! he laughed. It’s nice to see you again so soon.
I am really embarrassed about this. My Annabelle is a headstrong young lady – aren’t you, Missy? – and she’s been asking me about you. Ever since you caught the apartment thief.
Really?
I never lie.
Well, she’s a pretty little cat.
Don’t flatter her. She’ll only keep coming back.
That’s fine with me. I like cats.
Come on, you two. Annabelle, get off the detective before he arrests you. I set Annabelle’s carrier on the desk and opened a door. Step in, Missy. I’m taking you home. Annabelle slowly climbed off Det. Kibble and ambled casually into her carrier.
Come on, Thatch! I told him.
He ran to me, and I picked him up and set him on my shoulder. This nice man has work to do, I told them. Let’s let him work in peace. Merry Christmas, Detective. I can’t believe tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Do you have plans for the holiday? I picked up Annabelle’s carrier.
My parents and I will have dinner at my brother and sister-in-law’s house in Yonkers. It should be nice.
You’re not attached to anyone? No children?
Nope. Single. My mother used to gripe that I would never make her a grandmother, but my two brothers made up for that. I’ve got two nieces and a nephew in Yonkers, and my brother in Tucson has two boys.
I had an Aunt who lived in Tucson. She and my uncle moved there after the War. Long time ago now, maybe 1946 or 47?
Are you seeing your family?
No, they’re all in Ohio. I may take the cats to a movie. Annabelle wants to see Cats. I don’t. Well, thanks again for everything. And Merry Christmas!
Thanks, And the same to you. And Happy New Year! I hope I’ll see you again soon.
You never know!
Thatch snuggled inside my scarf, and I could feel his claws dig into my jacket to stay on my shoulder as I walked out of the precinct. When we entered the apartment, Stella ran to join us. I set the carrier on my bed and Thatch jumped off my shoulder. I released Annabelle from her carrier. As soon as she stepped out, I picked her up.
Okay, Missy, I asked, what’s going on? Thatch? Who wants to tell me?
Tell him, Annabelle, Thatch said. This was your idea.
Well, Annabelle said, we needed to try out our caroling, and I wanted to see Det. Kibble.
Is he your new crush?
No, silly Daddy. I think he’s got a crush on you!
I set her down, picked up her carrier, and carried it to the closet. Really? I said. I don’t think so.
Why? Thatch asked.
Well, for several reasons. He’s got to be about half my age, and no one ever – seriously, no one ever falls in love with me. I’m always the bridesmaid.
Annabelle gave me a funny look. I never understand a thing you say!
It means, Annabelle, that I am everybody’s best friend, but nobody falls in love with me.
I love you, Thatch said.
I know you do, Thatcher, I love you, too. And I love Annabelle and Stella.
Have you ever loved anyone? Annabelle asked me.
Several, but none of them ever loved me. I was too lousy at it. I was either too anxious, too clingy, too crazy, or I was clueless and missed all the signs that someone was actually interested in me.
Really?
I had a tendency to fall for the wrong people. And I fell in love too easily. My last crush was a kid I worked with me at Barnes & Noble.
Do I know him?
No, Missy. That was a long time ago, long before I gave my heart away to three kitties who needed me.
So, what happened? Thatch climbed onto my lap. He likes a good story.
I was getting old – I was around 55 or 56 then – and I thought, this one is my last chance at love, which only puts pressure on your mental state, and his. He had personal issues, a lot of self-hatred and alcoholism, and my problem was I wanted to take care of him more than I cared for him. When I realized I was making a fool of myself over someone who was using me, and laughing behind my back with this older woman he was also seeing on 81st Street, it got really messy and ugly. When I had to leave the job for some minor surgery, I never went back. I missed the job, but I had made a huge fool of myself.
What will you do if Det. Kibble asks you out for coffee?
I’d go. Like all three of you, I am very curious. And . . . he’s a handsome man. I’m not dead yet.
Annabelle and Thatch applauded. Stella looked puzzled, and then she, too, applauded.
Besides, I added, I need someone in the police department to protect the three of you when you finally go too far and end up in jail.
©2019, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 