The Five Lives of Our Cat Zook (8 page)

“Snuggle up,” I say. My dad used to say that before he began a ghost story. I pull on my story ear.

“There was once a very, very old woman and a very, very old man. They lived right smack in the center of Rebusina, in an old dark brown Victorian house with green scallops like half-moons around the windows, and a twisty buttercup-yellow staircase going up to the pink front door. It also had a beautiful backyard garden with a giant swimming pool. The
very, very old woman and the very, very old man never had any children. So of course that meant there were no grandchildren, either. But the very, very old woman and the very, very old man didn't mind. They were able to have nice, long, private and pleasant conversations together while drinking mint tea without lots of other people interrupting and shouting over one another, which often happens in big families. They were the loves of each other's lives. The one absolute true love of the other's life forever, until death do them part, and beyond.”

“I thought this was a ghost tale,” Freddy says.

“I'm getting to that,” I say.

“One day, a tiny white kitten leaped into their parlor from an open window. She was as white as vanilla ice cream.”

“A
girl
kitten?” asks Fred.

“Shh. Why not?” I ask. “And please stop interrupting.” I pull on my story ear again and continue.

“This white kitten, this shy, very quiet kitten had, yes, twenty-six toes. She also had a long, long tail, curled at the tip like a question mark. At the very tip of that tail was a teeny white spot that sparkled like a diamond in the afternoon sun. In fact, it
was
a diamond, or some kind of stone that sure looked like one. The very, very old woman and the very, very
old man adopted that kitten and named her Jewel. They grew to love Jewel, even before they discovered the amazing thing about that diamond.”

I pause dramatically. “The diamond had the power to fulfill wishes!”

“Wow,” says Freddy.

“One day, the very, very old man awoke with a sniffly cold, the kind that gets you sneezing and honking without stop.

“‘Mew?' mewed Jewel in her quiet, shy voice.

“‘I wish I didn't have this terrible cold!' said the very, very old man, blowing his nose with a tissue. His other hand was petting Jewel, back and forth, back and forth, from her ears to her tail-tip. Then, a few hours later, his cold was gone!

“Another time, the very, very old woman wished she'd remembered to buy butter at the market for her taffy. She was famous in the neighborhood for her taffy. When she got up from petting Jewel, there was a creamy yellow lump on a plate near the sink!

“And one day, the very, very old man wished his favorite striped cap, the only one ever to keep his earlobes warm, wasn't lost anymore. He happened to look up, and there it was, hanging with the soup pot from a kitchen hook!

“Well, the very, very old man and the very, very old woman
soon connected the dots. Every time they touched the diamond on Jewel's tail, Jewel said, ‘Mew?' in her quiet, shy voice. And that meant, ‘What is your wish?'

“But the very, very old woman and the very, very old man weren't greedy. They already had everything they'd ever wanted—for instance, each other, and also an adorable kitten. And they certainly didn't want Jewel to think they loved her only for the diamond on her tail. So they only wished for improbable things, not impossible ones, which wasn't within Jewel's power to give, anyway. And all their improbable wishes came true.”

“What's ‘improbable'?” asks Freddy.

“It means maybe it will happen or maybe it won't, and it looks like it won't. But that doesn't mean it's impossible.

“Anyway, one sad day, something terrible befell them. The very, very old woman died, because—well, she was very, very old.

“‘Woe is me!' cried the very, very old man.

“The very, very old man knew that he would die by and by for the same reason, and also because of his broken heart. He and his wife had known each other for ages and ages and were each other's first and only true loves, and one couldn't live without the other.

“So the very, very old man began to make out his will. ‘Give all my cash to a cat rescue society,' he wrote. ‘Eleven dollars and thirty cents, hidden in my underwear drawer.'”

“Is that where our money is hidden?” Freddy asks.

“Stop interrupting,” I say.

“But unfortunately, the very, very old man died right smack in the middle of writing up his will. That's because it took him much longer than necessary on account of all his rebuses.”

I switch on the flashlight and reach for my rebus-making materials. I think for a while, write something, then think some more.

“Hurry up,” says Fred.

“It's not easy,” I say. “I'm having the same problem the old man had, thinking of good ones for you to figure out.” I scribble something quickly. “OK, try these. The house goes to …”

“
B.
RW hill.
Bill
,” reads Fred.

“Right,” I say. “Bill the Butcher. The pots go to …”

“
B.
RW hat.
Bat
,” reads Freddy.

“Right. Bat the Baker. And all the furniture goes to …”

“
C.
RW fan.
Can. D
.”

“Yup. Candy the Candlestick Maker. And the next part is the most important.”

“
We heart our cat. We love our cat
,” reads Fred. “
Do not give her to
—”

“And just at that point, the very, very old man had died. He hadn't had a chance to write ‘Dean the mean egg man.' Dean the mean egg man had always snooped around their house whenever he delivered the eggs, asking way too many questions about Jewel's diamond.

“When all the townspeople gathered to read the will, Dean the mean egg man loudly insisted, ‘That cat will be happiest in my chicken coop, with hens for company and mice to chase!'

“‘Good thinking,' said the mayor.

“Of course, Dean the mean egg man had figured out the wish-fulfilling powers of the diamond.

“Poor Jewel. She spent her days with the mean egg man fulfilling improbable wishes, such as increased egg production whenever she sang to the hens. But one day, the mean egg man locked her up in the silo until she fulfilled some impossible ones: for instance, a golden egg or two. Fulfilling impossible wishes wasn't within Jewel's power to do. And that sad day, inside that silo, brokenhearted, Jewel died trying.

“Just before he buried her in his front yard, the mean egg man snipped the diamond from Jewel's tail. He glued
that diamond to a silver pendant attached to a silver chain, which he planned to wear as a bracelet to match the silver earring in his ear. And of course he still planned to enjoy its improbable wish-fulfilling powers, such as increased egg production.”

“I thought this was going to be a ghost story,” Fred complains again.

“I'm getting to that. Do you think you can take it?”

“Of course,” Freddy says. But he snuggles close to me.

“That night, a noise awakened Dean the mean egg man. He sat up in bed.

“‘Who's there?' he called.

“There was only the silence of the dark, cold night.

“‘Who's there?' he asked again, shivering. And by and by, the answer came.

“‘EE-OW! EE-OWEY! I HAVE COME FOR WHAT IS MINE!'

“‘What cat is that?' the mean egg man asked. He opened his front door, and seeing no cat, went back to bed. ‘I must have been dreaming,' he said.

“But the howling continued. It was ‘EE-OW! EE-OWEY! EE-OW! EE-OWEY!' all night long!

“Dean the mean egg man didn't sleep a wink that night.
He even threw a shoe out the window, but that didn't help. The howling went on and on.

“The next night the noise continued, even louder now.

“‘EE-OW! EE-OWEY! I HAVE COME FOR WHAT IS MINE!'

“Dean the mean egg man covered his head with his pillow, but he could still hear the howling. There was no sleep for the mean egg man that night, either. He had to take a long nap the next day, and didn't get to feed his chickens or clean out his coops, which decreased egg production quite a bit.

“On the third night, the noise was louder still, almost like the sound of a terrible windstorm.

“‘EE-OW! EE-OWEY! I HAVE COME FOR WHAT IS MINE!'

“The mean egg man knew he couldn't afford to lose another night's sleep. He raced to the door and opened it. There was a big, white, see-through Ghost Cat, flashing ghostly teeth and ghostly claws, floating in and out of tree trunks, spinning on the roof, swooping around and around the courtyard, and finally landing on Dean the mean egg man's doorstep.

“‘EE-OW! EE-OWEY!'
she roared.

“The terrified mean egg man finally remembered the
diamond, which, as you know, was glued to the silver pendant on a bracelet around his wrist. He rubbed that diamond and yelled, ‘I wish you'd just shut up!'

“But that was an impossible wish, because no wishes are ever granted if you are rude about it.

“‘SAY THE MAGIC WORD!'
howled the Ghost Cat.

“‘What magic word?' asked the mean egg man.

“The Ghost Cat said,
‘I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT!'”

“Everybody knows what it is,” Freddy says.

Of course, the Magic Word has been pounded into our heads our whole lives.

“Everybody but Dean the mean egg man,” I say.

“The mean egg man tried all sorts of words and groups of words.

“‘Abracadabra, shazam, pittooee, frazzlebug, wart of a hedgehog, iddy-biddy kidneys, red monkey guacamole!'

“He tried all night long until he was hoarse, racking his brain to think of all the magic words he'd ever heard in his life. Nothing worked. The loud and annoying howling continued deep into the night.

“‘Skedaddle faddle, lizard paddles, hocus pocus, toes on toastus, pokus in the ribus, fee-fi-fo-fum …'