To Be A Cat

Cat On The Run

RISSA GOT BARNEY off the bus, hiding him inside her coat where he could hear the beating of her heart. Then, when all the others had disappeared through the school gates, she took Barney out into the cool air that he could feel tingling his whiskers.

‘Now,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you have a collar?’

Rissa was clearly wondering what to do. Barney realized this. In fact, for a brief moment he could see her thoughts as clearly as if they were fish in a pond. She was wondering if she should borrow someone else’s phone and call the RSPCA. That was no good. That would mean being locked in a cage with no chance of proving to anyone who he really was.

Then Barney had a plan. If he ran ahead of Rissa, he could enter the school and get to his classroom, then he could run to his chair.

Why would a cat run through a school to jump on Barney’s empty chair unless it was Barney?

OK, there were probably other reasons, but this was as good a plan as he had so he pushed his front paws against Rissa and launched himself into the air. He fell, suddenly realizing he wasn’t

anywhere near Rissa-height any more and that he had a very long way to drop. He winced, expecting to crash-land painfully, but it didn’t happen. In fact, to Barney’s astonishment, he fell fluidly through the air and landed with ease on all four paws. And he had to admit it felt pretty good, moving like a cat.

But, as Barney started to run, he saw another cat was watching him suspiciously from the other side of the road. A ginger moggy, licking its front paws and carefully studying him. Pumpkin! The shock caused Barney to hesitate.

Rissa’s hand was on his back, ready to scoop him up again, so he ran as fast as he could through the open gates and towards the doors of the vast modern school building.

It had always been big, but now it was infinite. Barney couldn’t see an end to it, whichever way he looked. Just windows and concrete, windows and concrete, windows and concrete …

‘Cat! Come here, cat!’ Rissa was shouting behind him, getting closer.

Good, thought Barney, encouraged his plan was working so far, and actually enjoying the sensation of running in his cat body.

Ahead was a Year Thirteen whom Barney recognized – a scruffy boy with lots of spots who always seemed friendly. He was trying to tuck in his shirt as he pushed his way through the two doors that led onto the main school corridor.

The doors closed slowly, so Barney had time to slip inside.

The Year Thirteen noticed Barney run past his ankles. ‘Oh, a cat,’ he said sleepily as if it was a completely normal thing to see animals running along the school corridor at a quarter to nine in the morning.

Barney could hear Rissa’s footsteps on the polished, sickly scented floor but kept going, as determined as if he were taking part in the Cat Olympics. Past reception, Miss Whipmire’s office, the staff room, weaving through legs of early pupils wandering the corridors.

‘What was that?’ said one.

‘What?’ said another.

‘Looked like a … cat.’

Barney skidded into a left turn, darted past the empty science labs, turned one final corner, and he was nearly where he wanted to be, with Rissa’s footsteps in fast pursuit.

Then he was there. 7R’s classroom. The door was open and Mrs Lavender, the nicest teacher in the whole school, was already inside. She was leaning over her desk, putting big red ticks and writing Very good next to someone’s homework.

A few pupils were already in the room, sitting at their desks, chatting. Barney could see from their feet that Gavin wasn’t there yet. That was good. What wasn’t good was that some of the other kids had noticed him.

‘Look,’ said Lottie Lewis, chewing gum. ‘It’s a cat.’

‘OMG!’ said Lottie’s best friend, Aaliyah. ‘How cute is that?’

Lottie – who was probably the prettiest and most popular girl in school – leaned down and stroked Barney’s back.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ she said, picking Barney off the floor.

Great, he thought. The first time Lottie Lewis has ever noticed me and I’m a cat.

Rissa was in the room now, out of breath. ‘That cat got on the bus,’ she explained. ‘It’s miles from home.’

This wasn’t good. She still thought he was a cat, and now Mrs Lavender had seen what was going on. ‘Oh goodness me. Oh my goodness. Goodness! Whose is that? Is that yours, Lottie?’

‘No. I just found it.’

Rissa explained again about the cat being found near the bus stop, and Barney was watching Lottie’s face and her giant eyelashes like the petals of an exotic plant. She wasn’t concentrating, so he wriggled free, over her arm, and jumped onto her desk across Aaliyah’s.

Then he leaped down onto the floor and ran to his chair. He prepared himself for the pounce but didn’t have time.

Mrs Lavender picked him up, resting him against her purple cardigan, which smelled of flowers. It smelled, in fact, like Bluebell Wood, and cruelly reminded Barney of being nine years old and with his parents on a long Sunday walk.

‘Right, class, please settle down. I’d better just tell Miss Whipmire about this.’

And she carried Barney out of the room, stroking the back of his head tenderly, without the faintest clue that she was, in fact, taking him to the office of a murderer.