The Cat Sitter's Cradle

13

Some afternoons on the Key can be as hot as blue blazes, especially in the summer when the sun reaches its highest point in the sky. The crickets and birds and frogs all take a break, finding cover in the shade and giving their voices a well-deserved rest. Afternoon clouds sneak in off the shore all demure and innocent, but before you know it they let loose with a torrent of rain and lightning bolts, sending golfers and beachcombers dashing for cover. Then, just as quickly as they rolled in, the clouds roll out. The sun shines through again, the leaves all sparkle, and the crickets, birds, and frogs start warming up for their evening performance, which usually begins about the same time the sun starts her slow descent into the Gulf.

It was a little after two o’clock when I headed out for my afternoon rounds. I called Dr. Layton to let her know I’d be late picking up our feathered friend. I didn’t tell her why. I was itching to talk to somebody about what had happened, but I knew I couldn’t, especially since there hadn’t been an official announcement from the police yet and I didn’t want to do anything that might compromise the investigation. Instead, I told her I’d had a “client-related mishap” and left it to her imagination. She told me not to worry, that René was doing fine. He was in his cage on Gia’s desk by the front window, basking in all the love and attention he was getting from everybody in the clinic.

I imagined that by now Mrs. Harwick was on her way back from Tampa, and somebody had probably gotten hold of Becca and told her what had happened. Becca’s relationship to her stepfather seemed complicated, but I knew it must have been devastating for her, especially when she was already in such emotional turmoil. I hadn’t heard from Detective McKenzie yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d get the call to meet her at the station. I was dreading it. Being back at that station brings up all kinds of memories that I long ago figured out how to suppress.

At the Suttons’ house, Sophie had knocked over a potted palm in the living room, which wasn’t all that surprising. On the outside, Sophie looks like a sweet, domesticated house cat, but inside she’s a tiger, and a very frisky tiger at that, so she’s always on the prowl for mischief. There was so much dirt scattered around I think she must have spent half the day engaged in a mighty battle with an imaginary mouse, or at least I hoped it was imaginary. I righted the palm and vacuumed up the dirt while Sophie watched me from the back of an armchair with a mildly disdainful look, as if I was spoiling all the fun. But I didn’t feel too guilty. I had something else in store for her.

I like to get all the grooming out of the way in the morning so afternoons are free for playtime. Sophie must have known what was coming next, because after I put the vacuum away and headed for the kitchen, she ran ahead and raced around the center island a couple of times, slipping and sliding on the tile floor. That’s her warm-up.

I pulled a white Ping-Pong ball out of my pocket and held it out at arm’s length. “Ready?”

She made a sound that was less like meow and more like ackackack! and twitched her whiskers with pure, unadulterated excitement.

I let the ball drop, and then both Sophie and the Ping-Pong ball went bopping and bouncing all over the kitchen for a good five minutes. That gave me the opportunity to check the house for any other mayhem she might have wreaked, and it gave her the opportunity to unleash some of that boundless kitty power. She was still at it when I came back, so I even had time to fill her bowl with fresh water and get her dinner ready. If I ever come up with a way to harness the energy created by a cat and a Ping-Pong ball, we won’t need to dig any more oil wells and us cat owners will all be billionaires.

I still had a couple more clients to check on, but first I wanted to stop by Dr. Layton’s office. I knew Joyce and Corina were waiting to hear how René was doing, and I was eager to get him back to Joyce’s so I could get the news on Corina’s appointment with the doctor. I prayed her baby had gotten a good bill of health—things were already hard enough as they were, and Corina didn’t need any more problems on her plate. Thinking about Corina and her baby made the wings of my heart flutter a bit and the corners of my mouth sneak up in a little smile. It made me feel good to know we’d at least given Corina a safe place to stay while she got her bearings. That was one less thing she needed to worry about.

I parked outside Dr. Layton’s office and grabbed René’s cage from the back. Before I went in, I fished my cell phone out and dialed Kenny’s number again. It went straight to his voice mail. If Ken knew what was good for him, he would’ve called me back by now. I figured he probably didn’t like the idea that I was trying to track him down, but he certainly wasn’t going to be any happier when he started getting calls from the homicide department—and if he didn’t talk to me first there was a pretty good chance he’d wind up at the top of the suspects list.

Inside, René was in a cage on Gia’s desk with a view of the waiting room, where there were four or five people watching him with the attention normally reserved for a good TV show, like he was their own personal nature channel. They all looked up at me when I came in, waiting to see my reaction to such a rare and splendid thing. He was clearly the star of the clinic.

Gia waved and said to René, “Here’s your mommy!”

I felt a little blush of pride, as if I’d hatched René myself. Sometimes I like to stand out from the crowd. Having everyone think I was the lucky owner of such an exotic bird made me feel a little special. Gia signaled for me to come on back while she ran to fetch Dr. Layton, and René let out a high-pitched cool! as I came around to the side of his cage. He was swinging on one of the perches, using his long tail feathers for balance. He looked at me with one eye and then the other and then went back to pecking at a slice of fresh orange.

Dr. Layton said, “He’s very talkative today. He’s been entertaining everybody with all kinds of whistles and calls.”

I wanted to say that I’d only heard one or two, but I didn’t want anyone in the waiting room to know I was just the bird chauffeur, so I nodded dumbly.

“He’s still a little tired though, so I’d say it’s a good idea to let him rest as much as possible over the next few days. Whatever he’s been through was pretty hard on him, but his appetite has definitely picked up since yesterday. He’s probably already gained a few ounces. I sent some blood samples over to the lab for testing, but in the meantime, I don’t think there’s any reason to be concerned. He’s a very healthy boy.”

I let out a sigh of relief. With everything that had happened today, getting some good news felt like hitting the jackpot at a slot machine.

Dr. Layton looked me up and down. “On the other hand, you’re looking a little beat. You okay?”

I nodded as I took out my checkbook. “It’s been a very long day.”

She wagged a finger at me. “First of all, go home and get some rest, and second, put that checkbook away.”

“No, you have to let me pay you.”

“No ma’am, you saved that bird’s life, you don’t owe me a penny.”

I wagged my finger back at her. “What about the lab fees?”

“Oh no. Do not try to sass a sasser. That’s a fight you are definitely not going to win. First of all, I always devote a portion of my work to charity, and if there was ever an animal in need of a little charity, this is it. And secondly, he’s out of his normal environment and he’s completely defenseless. If you and your friend hadn’t taken him in he would’ve wound up somebody’s supper. So you don’t owe me a penny. Of course, it’s a good thing you waited a bit before you stuck him in the freezer.”

I nodded in agreement as I set René’s antique cage on the desk. Gia helped me transfer him from his state-of-the-art number. He didn’t look at all upset to be leaving his fancy modern digs, probably because he was eager to get back to Joyce’s house—which I guessed was now what he thought of as home. I wondered if Joyce had considered the fact that she’d now taken in three boarders. She’d been living alone for so long, I think she was probably grateful for the company.

I thanked Dr. Layton, and Gia gave me a list she’d written up of all the foods that were safe for René. As I passed through the waiting room, everyone smiled and waved good-bye to René like he was George Clooney leaving the Academy Awards, and René called out a couple of cools! to let everyone know how honored he was to be there. He skipped and hopped around in his cage all the way to the Bronco, as if he actually had won some sort of award. I guess I’d be happy too if I found out I’d narrowly avoided being packed away in somebody’s freezer. I loaded him into the back and wedged the towels around his cage to keep it from toppling over. The towels were still damp from my morning swim. I made a mental note to hang them up to dry when I got home.

Joyce’s house is only about a block from where we found Corina, so on the way I turned down the side lane that runs along the the park where we found her. I slowed a bit to see if the box she’d been living in was still there, but there was too much foliage in the way to see from the street.

Corina and Joyce met me at the door, both wide-eyed with joy, and before you could say buenos días they had whisked René away. They put his cage down in the middle of the coffee table and huddled over it, cooing at René like two love-struck schoolgirls. Henry the VIII scampered and hopped around the perimeter of the table, wagging his tail and panting excitedly. I was beginning to get a little annoyed with all the attention René was getting.

I said, “Would anyone like to tell me how the baby is doing?”

Joyce said, “Oh, the doctor said she’s in perfect health. What did you find out about René?”

“That’s all she said?”

“Well, the baby’s underweight. She said it was probably at least a month premature, but they didn’t think it was anything to worry about. What did you find out about René?”

I sighed. These two were more excited about the bird than anything else. “He’s totally fine, but he’s supposed to rest up for a while, and he’s also a little underweight, but otherwise she said he’s a healthy boy. They gave me a list of foods.”

Corina nodded expectantly. “So, the bird—he will not die?”

“No, not at all! She said he is very healthy.”

I pulled out Gia’s list of recommended foods and handed it to Corina. “He eats all kinds of things, but fruit seems to be the favorite.” As I spoke, Corina looked down at the list and nodded. I could see tears welling up in her big brown eyes.

Joyce put her hand on Corina’s shoulder. “Oh, Corina. It’s going to be okay.”

Corina started to cry softly. “The bird, she is okay. I am happy.”

Joyce caught my eye, and we shared a look. Corina wasn’t just crying because some crazy-looking bird had gotten a clear bill of health from the vet. She was crying because, at the heart of things, Corina and René had a lot in common. They were both far from their own homes, in a foreign land where they weren’t completely understood, where they had to depend on the goodwill of perfect strangers in order to survive. They had both placed their trust in our hands. It was easy to understand how they might immediately form a tight bond.

Now Joyce started dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her blouse.

“Oh no, not you too!”

Joyce laughed through her tears. “Well, Corina’s right. I’m happy the bird she is okay, too!”

I rolled my eyes and left the two of them together, sniffling and hiccuping. The baby was in the guest bedroom sound asleep in her bright pink car seat, which was situated in the middle of the bed, surrounded with pillows. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her hands were balled into fists like two tiny cauliflower heads.

As I sat down on the bed, her eyes opened into narrow slits.

I whispered, “Hi, Dixie Joyce.”

She tilted her head back a bit and her eyes widened a little, trying to focus on me. I laid my hand down over hers and softly kissed the top of her head.

“You know,” I said, “there’s a couple of crybabies in there.”