The Aristokittens #1 (Volume 1)

The next morning, three fuzzy streaks sped along the sidewalks of Paris—one white, one gray, and one orange. A human who looked closely would have seen a trio of kittens dashing as fast as they could toward their new bulldog friend. Toulouse, Berlioz, and Marie each wanted to be the first one to tell Pierre about their fantastic, fur-raising idea for the old café.

When they reached the corner of the alley, they were all tied in the race. But Toulouse leapt over Marie and took the lead. He was so excited to be winning one of their races, he turned back to shout at his littermates.

“Haha! Slowpokes!”

SPLASH.

He ran right into a big puddle.

“Me-EW!” Toulouse cried, trying to shake globs of mud off his face.

Marie and Berlioz skidded to a stop, glanced at each other, and started laughing.

“That’s what you get,” Berlioz began, “when you—Marieeeeeee!”

While Berlioz was still chuckling, Marie had dived toward the secret door. She pawed at the tiny handle, but it wouldn’t open.

“Let me try,” Toulouse said, swatting at Marie’s head until she moved to give him room. But the handle didn’t budge for him, either. “It must be locked.”

Marie frowned, thinking. She took a few steps backward and stared up at the second-floor windows overlooking the alley. Pierre had told them he lived with his humans in an apartment above their restaurant. Maybe that was where he was now, and perhaps those were his windows.

“Pierre?” she shouted. “Pierre, are you home? It’s Marie!”

“And Toulouse and Berlioz!” added Toulouse. “We need to talk to you!”

“What if we howled like the alley cats do?” Berlioz suggested. “That would catch his attention.”

“Along with everyone else in the neighborhood,” Toulouse said. “But you know me. I never say no to a howl.”

All three kittens drew in a deep breath, then let loose with their loudest, longest howls. Their alley cat friends would have been proud! But the noises just echoed down the alley into silence.

Marie hung her head in disappointment. “He’s not here.”

“We’ll have to try again tomorrow,” Berlioz added.

“But I’m so excited!” Toulouse groaned. “We’re all so excited! If I have to wait another day, I’ll burst!”

“Well, try not to,” Marie said, rolling her eyes.

The kittens shuffled out of the alley and back onto the street, headed toward home.

“Kittens!” A voice rang out above them. “Hi-hi-hi!”

Pouf, their squirrel friend, sat perched on a tree across the street, just inside the park fence.

Toulouse shouted up, “Hello, Pouf!”

“Are you here to play?” chattered the squirrel, flicking his bushy tail back and forth. “I’d like to play! We can play ‘You-Chase-Me-up-a-Tree-but-I-Am-Always-Faster-than-You’!”

Toulouse started to reply: “Aw, we’d love to, but—”

“Hey!” Berlioz interrupted. “Have you seen our friend Pierre, the bulldog? He lives above that restaurant.”

Pouf stared at them for a few long moments, twitching his nose.

“Pierre, the Dog-Who-Thinks-He-Can-Catch-Me-but-Never-Can?”

“Ummm,” Marie said. “Probably?”

“Pierre, who used to run the Creature Café?” Pouf added.

“Yes!” Marie exclaimed. “You know the café?”

“Every animal who lived in the park back then knows about it. They served the best berry acorn tarts! Yum-yum-yummy-yum!”

“We have an idea to start up the café again,” Toulouse shouted up. “We’re looking for Pierre so we can get his permission.”

“Café? Again? More YUM?” Pouf babbled. The kittens nodded. “Follow me! I think I know where you can find him!”

Pouf scrambled down from the tree as the kittens darted across the street and through the park fence. Duchess would never let them enter the park that way instead of through the front gate. But the kittens were definitely not thinking about what was proper and what wasn’t. They’d learned that sometimes, in order to tackle a big task, you had to try something new.

When they caught up with Pouf, the squirrel said, “I saw him earlier at the pond. Come on!”

Now there were four fuzzy streaks, bouncing and barreling down the Luxembourg Gardens paths toward the water basin, where dogs often liked to bring their humans.

But when they reached the basin, there was no sign of Pierre.

“Pierre!” Toulouse shouted. “Pierre?”

A voice came from the pond: “Is your friend a French bulldog?” One of the ducks paddled in place, watching them.

“Yes!” Marie replied. “Have you seen him?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” the duck said. “He picked up a strange dog’s scent and started following it. I think he was headed for the fountain.”

“I know a supersecret squirrel shortcut!” babbled Pouf. “This way!”

The fuzzy streaks were off again, through some bushes and across rocks. Duchess definitely would have disapproved. When they reached the park’s big stone fountain, the kittens scanned the area, huffing and puffing from their run.

“There!” Berlioz exclaimed, pointing a paw.

Pierre was sniffing his way down a path, wagging his tail in excitement.

Now the race to reach Pierre first was on again. The kittens tumbled and tangled with one another as they ran, but Toulouse grabbed the lead. When he reached Pierre, he stopped short. Marie got there next, but when she stopped, she stumbled over Toulouse. When Berlioz saw that, he tried to leap over them both…but landed right on Pierre’s back.

“Ouch!” Pierre barked.

“I’m so sorry!” Berlioz sputtered. “And also…hello.”

“Pierre,” Marie said, “we really need to talk to you!”

“Bah! I was on the trail of the most interesting-smelling dog.” Pierre sighed and gave the kittens an annoyed look. “This had better be important.”

Toulouse, Marie, and Berlioz began speaking at the same time.

“We want to open a new café—”

“There will be food and music and art—”

“We’ll run it, but we need your help stocking the kitchen—”

“ROWWWWWWFFF.” Pierre let out a long, gruff bark.

The kittens got the hint and quieted down. Berlioz hopped off Pierre’s back and joined his littermates.

“Let me get this straight,” Pierre said. “You want to reopen the old Creature Café?”

“Serving up sweet and savory treats,” Marie said.

“With jazz music,” Berlioz added.

“And amazing art on the walls,” Toulouse chimed in.

“This will be run by…the three of you?” Pierre asked.

“Yes,” Marie said, “working as a team. Right, boys?”

Toulouse and Berlioz nodded.

“Mama says we can do more together than we can apart,” Marie said.

Pierre thought about that. “Your mama sounds very smart. But I’m not sure. It won’t be easy to get that old café fixed up. The furniture needs to be repaired and painted. There are plates and cups and baking pans tossed here and there. You’d have to find them all and wash, then polish them. It will all take so much time.”

“We have time,” Toulouse said. “Lots and lots of time!”

“And energy, too, I’m sure,” Pierre said with a smile. “But what about the food? Where will that come from?”

“Um, well…” Berlioz began. “We were hoping you could get it from the restaurant upstairs, like you did for Monsieur Midnight.”

“Just like the old days, Pierre!” Pouf exclaimed from his perch on a rock. “Yum-yum-yummy-yum!”

“Ah, yes,” Pierre said dreamily, a smile growing on his face. “Just like the old days with my friend Midnight…”

Marie, Toulouse, and Berlioz all exchanged glances. Was Pierre going to give the paws-up?

But Pierre sighed. “I’m sorry, children, but no…As much as I’d love to reopen the café, I just don’t see it. You have no idea how much work it takes to run a café.”

Toulouse and Berlioz let their tails drop and their ears droop. They were filled with disappointment. Not Marie, though. She stood up even straighter.

“Let us see for ourselves,” she said.

“Pardon?” Pierre asked.

“Let us see for ourselves how much work it is! We could do a kind of tryout. I’ll create a sample menu. Berlioz, you can play some of your music. And Toulouse can paint a huge mural to decorate one of those dirty, dusty walls.”

“We would need some customers for the tryout, too,” Toulouse said.

“Who do we know who would want to sample your cooking, Marie?” Berlioz asked.

The kittens all looked at one another and had the same idea at the exact same time.

“Roquefort!” they exclaimed together.

“Let me guess,” Pierre said. “With a cheese name like that, Roquefort is a mouse?”

“One of our best friends,” Toulouse said. “He’s always up for helping us.”

“Plus, he knows a lot of other hungry mice,” Berlioz added.

Pierre gazed at Berlioz, then at Toulouse, and finally at Marie. Had they done enough to convince him?

“You are three very determined kittens,” Pierre said, sighing. “If you can put all that determination into the café, it will really be something.”

“Does that mean yes?” Marie asked.

Pierre broke into a huge grin and nodded. “Let’s give it a try.”

Marie cheered, “Yay! Oh, thank you, thank you, Monsieur Pierre. You won’t regret this! Berlioz, you run home and ask Roquefort if he can be our tryout guest. Toulouse, can you go with him and collect your paint supplies? You’ll need to get started on the mural right away.”

“We’re on it!” the brothers both shouted over their shoulders as they scurried away.

“Oh,” Pierre said, watching them go. “So you meant…you were going to do all this right now.”

“Now I need to plan a little menu,” Marie said, pacing back and forth across the park path. “Pierre, can we get ingredients from the restaurant?”

Pierre thought for a moment. “We’ll have to sneak into the kitchen before the lunch rush, but that should be easy. I used to do it all the time.”

“We also need to find those dishes and baking supplies,” Marie reminded him.

“I think I remember where they are,” Pierre said.

“Can I help, too? Can I help, too?” squeaked Pouf from the rock.

Marie watched Pouf’s huge fluffy tail swish back and forth, back and forth. Then she got an idea.

“The café floor is really dirty,” Marie told him. “Could you sweep it for us?”

Pouf twitched his nose a few times before agreeing. “Sure! Okay! Yes! No problem!”

He scrambled off the rock and disappeared into a bush.

“If we’re going to get ingredients from the restaurant,” Pierre said, “we’ll have to hurry.”

Marie followed Pierre out of the park and across the street to the Luxembourg Brasserie. He scratched at a front window while Marie hid under a chair at one of the outdoor tables. A human came and opened the door.

“Out exploring again, Pierre?” the human asked him. Pierre let out a soft bark as he trotted into the restaurant. When the waiter was looking the other way, Marie slipped in behind Pierre.

But she accidentally brushed her tail against the human’s leg.