Six Cats a Slayin'

THIRTY-ONE

I recognized the boy immediately. He sang in the choir at Helen Louise’s church. In fact, he was the boy soprano soloist, and he had a hauntingly angelic singing voice.

“Hi, Tommy.” His name was Tommy Russum, and he lived several blocks away with his mother and stepfather. His mother was a friend of Helen Louise. “Would you like to come in?”

The boy nodded and stepped inside the house. I shut the door, and he pushed back the hood to expose his dark auburn mop of hair. Small for his age—around eleven, I thought—he stood looking up at me, a mute appeal in his expression.

“Let’s go see the kittens, shall we?” I said.

“Yes, please,” he said softly.

I led the way. Diesel walked beside Tommy, and the boy stroked his head. Diesel purred his thanks.

The minute Tommy saw the kittens, he hurried to the cage and dropped to his knees, his hands against the wire mesh. The kittens squeaked and chirped as they tried to reach his hands. He looked up at me again. “Thank you for taking care of them.”

“I’m happy to do it. Why don’t we let them out so you can play with them?”

“Yes, please.” He scooted back, and I opened the door. Diesel watched anxiously as the kittens scrambled to get to Tommy, now sitting with his legs stretched out. They crawled over his legs, and Ramses tried to crawl up his arm, claws grabbing at the thick fabric of the jacket.

Tommy laughed as he picked them up in turn and let them lick his face. As I watched, I wondered how an adult could be so cruel to a child, to deprive him of such love and joy. The family wasn’t poor as far as I knew. Tommy’s stepfather, if I recalled correctly, was a cardiologist and reputedly an excellent one. He could surely afford kitten food for this bunch. He must be the he Tommy had referred to in the original note to me.

I pulled a chair close to where Tommy continued to play with the kittens. Diesel stood watch, ready to pounce if one of them tried to make a break for it. At the moment, however, they seemed happy to play with Tommy.

“They haven’t forgotten you,” I said. “I hope you weren’t worried about that.”

Tommy regarded me solemnly, his smile gone. “I was kinda worried about that.”

“Did you have names for them?” I asked.

He nodded but didn’t speak.

“I didn’t know what to call them, so I gave them names, too.”

“What do you call them?” he asked.

I told him the names and explained the origin of them. He smiled when I mentioned Fred and George Weasley. “I love Harry Potter,” he said. “I like your names better. Mine were kinda lame.”

“They’re your kittens, so you call them whatever you want. I won’t mind if you’d rather call them something else.”

He shook his head. “No, your names are better.” He pulled Ramses off his shoulder to stop the kitten from trying to groom his head. “Tell me about Ramses again and where his name comes from, please.”

I told him about the ancient Egyptian pharaoh and his namesake from the Amelia Peabody series. He smiled when I told him about the fictional Ramses’s penchant for getting into trouble.

“That’s a perfect name for him.” Tommy stroked the kitten’s head while the others squirmed around his legs, batting at tails and squeaking at one another.

“We need to talk about why you brought the kittens here,” I said gently. “Is it because of your stepfather?”

Tommy nodded. “He’s mean. He doesn’t want me to have a cat.”

“You must have a cat if you have these kittens,” I said.

“I found their mom in our yard. She looked hungry, and I started feeding her. He didn’t know about it. Then one morning I went looking for her when she didn’t show up.”

“But you found her,” I prompted when he stopped.

He nodded. “He has this old shed in the backyard. She was in there. I found her with her babies. They were so tiny.”

“You looked after her and made sure she had enough to eat so she could take care of the babies, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “He hardly ever goes in the shed, and I thought they could stay there. But he went out there a couple weeks ago and found them.”

“Did he talk to you about them?” I asked.

Tommy shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He talked to my mom about it. I heard them. She thinks it’s okay to have the kittens, but he doesn’t. He told my mom I wouldn’t take care of them, and he wasn’t going to spend a lot of money on a bunch of damn nasty cats.” His lips trembled. “But I was taking care of them. I was buying their food out of my ’lowance. My mom gives me that, he doesn’t. She has a job, so it’s her money, and she doesn’t care how I spend my ’lowance.”

“I appreciate the money you left for me,” I said. “It’s very responsible of you, but you can have it back if you need it.”

Tommy shook his head vigorously. “No, you keep it. I get more next week, and I’ll give that to you, too.” He looked at Diesel. “You must have to spend a lot of money already to feed your kitty. Do you think one of mine will get that big?”

“No, they’re not the same kind of kitty that Diesel is. He’s a Maine Coon, and they’re a breed that is pretty large.”

He seemed disappointed, and I tried not to smile.

I would love to have a talk with his stepfather and his mother. I knew it wasn’t my business, and they would have to handle this situation themselves. The stepfather ought to know how much these kittens obviously meant to Tommy, and the fact that the child was doing his best to see after their welfare ought to count for something. I didn’t know the man, but I already disliked him.

“Do you think if I talked to your stepfather, he might let you bring the kittens home?” I asked.

Hope flared in Tommy’s eyes but faded quickly. He shook his head. “No, he’s too mean. He doesn’t want cats in the house. But they couldn’t stay in the shed forever. It’s too cold. That’s why I brought them here, so they could come inside.”

Such a loving, kindhearted child, I thought. This made me even angrier at his stepfather.

“They’re safe and warm here,” I said, “and they’re getting plenty to eat. There is a problem, though.”

Tommy frowned. “Are they pooping on the floor?”

“No, it’s not that,” I said. “They’re using the litter boxes just fine. They’re growing, and they’re going to get a lot bigger. I can’t keep them in the cage once they get too big. As much as I would love to keep all of them, I can’t. That would mean six cats in the house, and that’s too many.”

“What are you going to do with them?” Tommy sounded fearful.

“That’s what I want you to help me decide,” I said. “We need to do what’s best for them, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I believe I can find good homes for them. Not all five together, though.”

“Won’t they miss one another if they’re separated?”

“Yes, for a while,” I said. “I hate to separate them, but in order for them to have a good home, we have to do it. Someone might take two or three of them, I think, but not all five.”

“I understand,” he said. I could tell he was trying not to cry. “I want them to be safe.”

I felt like an ogre who had stolen his beloved kittens. I knew that was ridiculous, but I felt so bad for him.

“I won’t let them go to anyone you don’t approve of,” I said. “If it’s possible, I want you to meet the people who will adopt them.”

“Really?” After I nodded, he said, “I guess that’s okay then.” He removed the kittens from his lap and off his legs to stand. “I think I’d better go home now. My mom isn’t at work today, and she doesn’t like me to be gone long.”

“We don’t want your mother to worry.” I rose from the chair to start gathering kittens. He helped me put them back into the cage. He stood there a moment, watching them, then turned and ran toward the front door.

I hurried to catch up with him before he was out the door and gone. I called out to him, and he slowed down to wait for me.

“Tommy, you can come and see the kittens whenever you like,” I said.

“Anytime?” he asked.

“Well, not at three o’clock in the morning,” I said in a solemn tone. He giggled at that. “I’ll wait until four,” he said. I had to smile. Smart boy.

I opened the door for him. I expected him to run out, but he stood looking up at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

Suddenly he threw himself against me and hugged me hard. I patted his head, trying to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. Tommy turned me loose and ran out the door.

I shut the door and realized that Diesel was watching me. He meowed as if asking me a question. I stroked his head. “I don’t know yet what I’m going to say to his stepfather,” I told the cat, “but one way or another I’m going to talk to that man and tell him what I think of him for the way he’s treating that poor little boy.”