To Be A Cat

The Howling Miaow

RISSA STEPPED INSIDE Miss Whipmire’s office as the door was closed – and then locked – behind her. She had never been in here before and she found it a strange place. The scent of fish, the cat calendar, the unusual plants, the poster of a dark-looking, exotic landscape on the back of the door (Chao Phraya – Thailand it said on it), the sheepskin rug that was draped over Miss Whipmire’s chair, the ugly pot with the pens nearly falling out of it. Somehow the office didn’t feel part of the school, the way a wart on a finger doesn’t feel like a true part of a hand.

‘What about Barney Willow?’ Miss Whipmire said, turning to give Rissa a vicious stare.

‘He’s … erm, he’s not at school today.’

‘Oh, so you’re telling tales. It’s true what they say – no loyalty among rats or children.’

‘No. I’m just worried about him.’

‘Why? He’s a despicable boy. One of the worst. And boys are a despicable breed so that is really saying something.’

‘No,’ said Rissa, feeling her voice waiver. ‘He’s not. He’s a good friend. The best, in fact. I just wondered whether there was anything we … or you could do?’

Miss Whipmire hesitated. She was looking worriedly at the filing cabinet for some reason Rissa couldn’t understand. Then she softened her tone. ‘Lots of boys aren’t at school today – and girls. Without meaning any offence, you are all lazy slugs. I wouldn’t worry your mollusky head about it.’

Rissa heard something. Or thought she did. A faint but sad kind of a howl. It was a noise that made Miss Whipmire’s face stiffen. But then it faded, so Rissa decided to finish what she had come to say. ‘I saw Barney this morning. But he was weird. Quiet. Didn’t say a word. And then, just as we were heading to the bus stop, he ran away.’

‘Oh, that is strange,’ Miss Whipmire said, smiling one of her agonizing smiles. ‘Well, don’t worry, I assure you I will do absolutely everything to look into this. Now, if you’d please excuse me … I’d better start making some phone calls.’

Rissa felt reluctant to leave the room. There was something peculiar and rather fake about Miss Whipmire’s sudden switch to concern. Rissa suspected that she didn’t care about anything except getting her out of the office.

Indeed, Miss Whipmire had the door wide open, gesturing for Rissa to leave. But she waited. ‘I’ve tried to phone Barney’s mum but I haven’t been able to speak to her yet.’

Again, she thought very hard about whether she should say the next thing. But she did, because she knew it would be even more difficult to say it to Mrs Willow, and because she wanted Miss Whipmire to understand the seriousness of the situation.

‘Just one more thing,’ she began. ‘It’s Barney’s father. He’s alive and people know where he is. He’s working at a cattery in Edgarton. I’ve just seen a photo of him. I’m worried that this has got something to do with Barney’s weird behaviour.’

Miss Whipmire didn’t look at all surprised by this information. But her eyebrows pulled together rather crossly, as though she was annoyed with such knowledge being spoken aloud in front of the filing cabinet. ‘Right, well, I’m sure that’s a load of nonsense …’ she said, and tried to shoo Rissa out of the room with a string of ‘all right’s and ‘I’ll see what I can do’s.

But then it came.

That noise again.

Only this time it was unmistakable.

A howling miaow. A cat’s miaow. And it was coming from the filing cabinet.