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I prepared for my usual morning trip to take the recyclables to the basement, take out the dirty kitty litter, and pick up yesterday’s mail. Since our building’s postal deliveries arrive any time between 11:00AM and 6:00PM and I’m not up to several trips to the lobby to check on it, I decided it was easier to pick up the mail the next morning. So, I looped the handles of my large shopping bag over the handlebars of my walker, put everything into it, and opened the door to the hall. As I struggled to get the walker out the door, Stella leaped between the legs of the walker and ran into the hall. As I wrestled the walker into the hall and the door closed behind me, I saw Stella follow the hall around the elevator.
Stella! I yelled. Come back, Missy!
There was no response from a kitty on the loose, so I decided to go ahead and take the elevator to the basement. The last previous times she’d got out, she found her way back. She’s run to the first floor in the past, I thought, so maybe I’ll find her on One when I pick up the mail.
I got to the basement, took care of the garbage and proceeded to the first floor to pick up any packages and the mail. She wasn’t there. As I opened the mailbox, I could hear her calls coming from the stairs.
Stella? Stella? I called.
More loud cries came from the stairs.
Stella! Daddy wants you!
More cries, and she sounded quite lost and unhappy. The walker and I turned back to the elevator.
Oh, damn! I thought. Maybe she’s on Three, trying to get into the apartment.
The doors opened on the third floor, but there was no sign of a frightened tuxedo kitty howling at my door. I pressed the button to Five and rode to the fifth floor. I stepped off and called her name. There was no response. I then tried Four, but she wasn’t there either. My biggest fear was that she and I would chase each other from floor to floor and never connect.
I decided to ignore Three and head for Two. The elevator opened on the second floor, and I stepped out.
Stella? I called, and a little black head peeked around the corner at me. Stella! Hey, baby!
I moved the walker closer to her. She stepped into the open and tried to get into the apartment of my neighbor Pixie, directly below mine.
Oh, God, I thought, her sense of direction is as bad as Annabelle’s. Instead, I said, Come to Daddy, Missy.
I lowered myself to my knees and extended my right hand. She approached it and let me pet her. As soon as she moved close enough for me to grab her, I picked her up, placed her in the empty shopping bag, and dragged myself to my feet.
Okay, baby, we’re going to take a ride, I told her as I turned the walker around and headed back to the elevator.
She sat up in the bag as we entered the elevator and rode to the next floor. Once on three, I drove her to our door, opened the door, and carried the walker into the apartment. As soon as it settled, Stella ran into the bathroom and climbed into the empty bathtub to relax.
Now wasn’t that fun, little girl? I asked her as she jumped from the shopping bag. Oh, Annabelle, I called, you need to talk to Stella about running around the building.
There was no response. I looked about. Thatch lay in the cat tree. Was he asleep?
Thatch? Thatcher baby? Are you asleep?
I was. Sorta, but all that noise with your walker woke me up.
Have you seen Annabelle?
Earlier. She’s been reading the Bible.
Oh, no, I said. I hope she’s not becoming one of those Bible-thumping, holier-than-thou cats!
Me, too! I don’t think she will, though. She’s just reading it for research.
Oh, okay. I wish she’d go back to reading Backstage casting notices. Where did you see her?
Under your bed.
All right, let me find her.
I lowered myself to my knees and looked under my bed. Annabelle was crouched between two storage cartons thumbing through my King James version of the Bible.
Annabelle! It’s mighty dark down there, Missy. You’ll go blind.
Nonsense. We cats have good night vision.
How is your Bible study coming along?
It’s difficult. Pretty language, but most of it makes no sense to me at all. It gives me a greater appreciation for Comden and Green. Now, Bells Are Ringing, that makes sense.
So, why do you keep reading it?
Research. I’ve discovered this new musical, Jesus Christ Superstar, and I’m doing my research, like any serious actress. There’s an excellent role for me, you know.
Mary Magdalene?
No. King Herod! I get to dance and what great lyrics! Who could resist lines like “Walk across my swimming pool . . .”
Not Mary Magdalene?
She’s too droopy. King Herod has pizazz! I can dance and strut my stuff.
Yes, Missy, I know, and I am greatly relieved.
Why, Daddy?
I was afraid you were becoming a holy roller cat.
A what?
One of those cats who takes the Bible too seriously and uses it against other cats.
Annabelle laughed. You are so silly at times! People actually believe the nonsense in this book? I don’t believe it. If I don’t understand a word of it, how can they?
She closed the Bible and walked out from under my bed.
Well, most of them don’t understand it either. It’s just a weapon.
I lifted myself to my feet.
A book is a weapon? She laughed. Some days you make no sense at all. That is so silly! Hahahahahaha!
Annabelle, Thatch asked, do you want to play on the fire escape with Pebble and Oyster?
Yes!
They ran to the windowsill where two pigeons were waiting outside.
Come on, Daddy, Thatch called. Open the window.
Open a new window, Annabelle sang. Get it?
Got it, Thatch replied.
Good.
©2021, Larry Moore
Annabelle & Thatch 