Guardian Cats and the Lost Books of Alexandria

Chapter 6: The old library cat

At the top of the stairs, the sound of pages turning and a deep, almost human sigh drew Marco toward the farthermost row of shelves. They hid a wall of doors, all closed except for the last. Through the crack in the door, he saw a wall of books leaning against each other like old men.

Marco moved into the doorway. On a long table sat a cat. Not the same as the one in the window. This one, larger and silver-spotted, was hunched over a book. All around him were stacks of books, and he seemed not to notice anything except what he was reading. His tail, laid out to the side, quivered in annoyance.

Marco stood spellbound, half-in, half-out of the room. A soft light moved about, illuminating dust motes and causing shadows to ebb and flow like waves.

Bang! A massive book hit the floor like a gunshot, and Marco jumped a foot off the ground. The room darkened and the grandfather clock downstairs pealed off twelve counts of midnight.

Marco's heart raced. He stared in wonder at the other cat, who continued his studies as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Marco took a deep breath and chanced a step closer to the elder cat, who remained arched over his book. He crept in, tilting his head to try and read the titles. Something about an atom, another book about visible and invisible light, and one called The Double Slit Experiment.

It was obvious this cat did not want to be disturbed, so Marco decided to leave. But he turned too quickly, misjudging the placement of the door, and thudded against it.

With a disgruntled sigh, the scholarly cat looked up. “What is it? What do you want?”

Marco dearly wished he’d stayed downstairs.

“Speak up. What are you looking for?”

“I’m… I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” said Marco.

“Then how will you know when you find it?”

His mind went blank; he was ready to bolt.

The older cat left his book, his tone softening. “I see you are enjoying The Three Musketeers.”

Marco halted in his tracks. “Well… yes,” he replied. Books were one thing Marco could talk about, and now that he had something to say, he lost some of his shyness.

He started to ramble on about the story, then caught himself, remembering the strange titles this cat had been reading. He wouldn’t be much interested in Marco’s adventure stories.

“I didn’t know other cats could read,” said Marco. “I thought I was the only one."

“There is much you do not know, young Marco.”

“How do you know my name?” he asked, and then realized he hadn’t told him what book he was reading, either. How had he known?

The old cat ignored his question. “D’Artagnan is waiting for you to come back and give him his voice. The characters are like that sometimes. If they find a reader they like, they freeze until the reader releases them.”

Marco felt deep in his bones that he had already known that, but he didn’t realize he knew until now.

The old cat jumped to the floor and came toward him, limping slightly.

“My name is Cicero,” he said. "I am glad to make your acquaintance. Reader cats are a rare breed these days."

Marco had no memory of meeting Cicero before, but there was something familiar about him.

Cicero looked directly into Marco’s eyes. “If you would like to learn more, come again tomorrow night.”

Cicero was odd, but Marco was curious and the old cat didn’t seem dangerous. "I’ll be back,” Marco said and turned to leave.

He was already out the door when Cicero called out. "The storeroom on the other side… the window's always open."

Marco realized Cicero had given him directions for getting out of the library. When he turned back to give him a nod of thanks, however, the elder cat had vanished.