The Crabby Cat Caper (4 page)

She sat on the floor, waiting. She waited till the moon slid over Jason's roof next door.

But Mister Whiskers didn't come home.

That crab cake!
thought Dee Dee.

SEVEN

Dee Dee got up early Sunday morning. She dashed downstairs.

The screen door was locked now. She unlatched it and went outside.

She checked the kitty bowl. Sour milk.

“Yuk!” She dumped it out.

Back inside, she woke up her parents. “Mister Whiskers didn't come home,” Dee Dee told them.

Her father rolled over. He made husky, early-morning sounds under the covers.

Her mother sat up. She stroked Dee
Dee's hair. “Oh, he'll come home. You'll see.”

Dee Dee kept watch for her cat. Even after breakfast. And between teeth-brushing and getting ready for church.

Soon, it was time to leave for Sunday school.

During prayer time, Dee Dee talked to God. “Please take care of my cat,” she whispered.

After dinner, Dee Dee went to see Carly Hunter. She and Carly were best friends.

She told Carly about her runaway cat. “I hope he comes back real soon,” she said sadly.

“Me too,” Carly said. “It would be lonely at your house without him.”

Dee Dee sighed. “My dad doesn't think so. He'd probably care more if we got a dog.”

Carly giggled. “How can you say that?”

“Some people like dogs best,” Dee Dee replied. “I think my dad's a dog person.”

Carly played with her long curls. “Dogs aren't better than cats.” She turned to look at Dee Dee. “Did you ask God to help you find him?”

Dee Dee nodded. “At church.”

“Then don't worry,” Carly suggested.

Dee Dee smiled. “OK, I'll try not to.”

And she did try.

She tried so hard, she almost forgot about Mister Whiskers.

On Monday, she gave Jason his cookies. At lunch, the kids talked about the carnival. Jason was busy eating his carob chip cookies.

After recess, Dee Dee turned in her riddle. It went like this:

A Riddle
by
Dee Dee Winters

I help bake cookies.
And eat them, too.
Sometimes I act like a crab cake.
I speak a secret language.
And I love freedom!
Who am I?
Clue: none.

Dee Dee didn't bother telling Jason that her cat was still missing.

After school, the Cul-de-sac Kids met at Abby's house.

Abby Hunter was the president of the club. “We don't have to have another meeting, do we?” she asked.

No one wanted another meeting. They were too excited about the carnival.

“Double dabble good,” Abby said. “No meeting. Let's go!”

They made a circle and locked hands. “Cul-de-sac Kids stick together,” they chanted.

At the end of their block, they crossed the street together. Kids and pets.

Abby Hunter was the only one without
a pet. Dee Dee Winters had one, but it was absent—a runaway.

Jason Birchall chomped on his cookies—the perfect reward for leaving his frog behind. Only now, with Mister Whiskers gone, he could've brought Croaker along, Dee Dee thought.

But she decided not to say anything. Jason would probably figure it out.

Soon, the Cul-de-sac Kids were exploring the carnival. They showed off their pets.

“It's a pet parade,” Jason said to Dee Dee. “Remember the one we had last Easter?”

Dee Dee remembered.

Suddenly, Jason's eyes grew big. “Hey!” he shouted.

“What's wrong?” Dee Dee asked.

“Your cat's not here,” he said. “So why can't Croaker come to the carnival?”

Dee Dee couldn't think of a reason. Well, she could. But she didn't want to
cause trouble. Not now. Not here at the carnival.

“I wanna show off my pet!” Jason said.

“Then go home and get him,” Dee Dee replied.

And with that, Jason left the school grounds. He ran all the way home.

Dee Dee hoped he was doing the right thing. What if the other pets starting hissing at Croaker?

But she knew she didn't have to worry. Dogs and ducks couldn't care less about bullfrogs. Neither did rabbits and hamsters.

Cats
were the ones who hissed and spit. They had hissy fits. At least, Mister Whiskers always did.

But today, Dee Dee wouldn't have to worry about her crabby cat. Mister Whiskers was gone. Having a long taste of freedom.

He was far away from home by now.

Maybe many miles away.

EIGHT

The House of Mirrors was a frightful place. A scaredy-cat place.

Mister Whiskers opened one eye. Bravely, he took another peek. He was big as a mountain lion. This was not a dream!

He stared at the strange mirror. Both eyes wide. That face . . . and those ears. Had he always looked this way?

Suddenly, he heard voices. A familiar voice stood out. It was Dee Dee's, his favorite girl-person.

Merrrt!
Mister Whiskers couldn't let her find him. Not now. Not yet!

There were too many wonderful smells and sounds. He was enjoying freedom. And people food!

Since running away, he'd begun to understand life on the outside. Now he knew why humans ate junk food.

Mm-m-meoowsy!
Scraps of French fries and bits of hot dog. And melted ice cream on wrappers.

Mister Whiskers loved his new life!

But he hid when Dee Dee and her friends came near. He slinked away, out of sight. He crawled behind the tallest mirror.

Dee Dee and Carly posed in front of the fat mirror. They were giggling and talking.

“Let's tell Jason to bring Croaker in here,” Carly said.

Dee Dee grinned. “That bullfrog will look fatter than ever!”

The girls tried out the tall, skinny
mirror. And all the others.

When they left, they were still laughing.

Mister Whiskers felt something tickle his insides. A homesick bug, maybe?

Or was it the junk food?

Suddenly a familiar scent hit his nose. He sniffed the air.

The muscles in his furry body froze. The hair on his back stood in a ridge.

He sniffed again. What was that horrid smell?

Then he knew. His claws shot out.

FROG!

Mister Whiskers crept close to the ground. He slinked under the tall mirror. He wanted to find that bullfrog.

He
had
to find him!

Mister Whiskers peeked out from under the tall mirror. He spied himself—a very fat self—a few feet away—in the fat mirror.

Jason was holding his bullfrog in front
of the fat mirror, too.

Rribbittt!
Croaker spotted Mister Whiskers! The bullfrog leaped out of Jason's hands.

“What?” Jason said, spinning around.

Boink—boink!
The frog hopped out of the House of Mirrors. He headed for the dunk tank.

The principal was sitting in the dunking chair. He sat high above the water.

Wheeee!
Croaker leaped up and flew over the fence. He splashed down, into the water tank.

Mister Whiskers was close behind. He tried to make the fence.

Splaaat!
Not quite.

He fell to the ground, staring at the fence. He hissed at his poor judgment.

Then he heard a sound.
Quack, quackity-quack!

Cracker and Jack were loose. They were waddling toward him. Their thin rope leashes dragged behind.

Merrrt!
Mister Whiskers didn't like the looks of those long beaks. He arched his back.

But nope, it wasn't worth a fit. Those slow-pokey ducks would never catch him. Nothing to hiss about.

He turned his attention back to the bullfrog.

Croaker was swimming around having a good time. Safe inside the dunk tank!

Mister Whiskers stared at him. Could
he
swim today? Should he risk one of his nine lives?

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fluff of white. Snow White, Shawn's dog, was charging at him!

Zoom!
Mister Whiskers darted away from the dunk tank. He zipped toward the food stand, under the popcorn maker. Past the hot dogs and around two trash cans.

Snow White was on his tail. She was
panting just inches away. He felt the slobber on his hind legs.

Mister Whiskers was in big trouble. He kept moving.

Faster . . . faster!

NINE

Arfff!
Stacy's cockapoo joined the chase. Behind him, two rabbit ears flopped in the air. Dunkum waved his empty dog leash, trying to catch Blinkee.

Meoorsy?
Mister Whiskers longed for the cellar at home. So what if it was dark and musty? It was safe!

Just then he heard his girl-person. “Kitty, kitty . . . cookie!” she called.

He glanced behind him. One split second.

Merrrt!
No way would he fall for the cookie trick.

A whole trail of things was coming after him. And he was
purrty
sure there was no cookie.

Maybe someday he'd have time for a real cookie. If he lived to tell the story.