Whisker Of Evil

30

Tuesday after work, Harry nimbly walked along the spine of her new shed roof. Fair, Blair, Paul, Susan, Tazio, and BoomBoom, who was able to help today, stuck to their promise to help. The T-111 siding with batten added for looks had yet to be painted, and it emitted a fresh lumber odor. Harry had splurged on a standing seam tin roof. Mrs. Murphy trotted behind Harry, since she wasn’t afraid of heights either.

Tazio, Paul, Blair, and Susan taped the seams of the Sheetrock inside Harry’s workroom. She’d put in insulation and a small gas flame stove that looked just like a wood-burning fireplace, which she carefully vented. Harry wanted to experiment in the coming winter to see if gas heat was effective and if it was cheaper. She was very interested in the cost of operating the stove. If it worked she might put one in her bedroom, since that side of the house was bitterly cold in wintertime. Also, if the power cut out, she’d still have heat.

Paul couldn’t live without music. His boom box played Latino tunes. Harry almost always worked in silence so she could listen to every animal around her, the wind come up, whatever, but she found she liked Paul’s music. And she liked Paul.

Tucker sprang to her feet, followed by Brinkley. They ran down the drive.

“Intruder!” Tucker announced.

Brinkley asked, “How do you know it’s an intruder?”

“I don’t, but I have to do my job, you know.”

Pewter, who had joined Mrs. Murphy on the roof, observed the Lab’s one stride to Tucker’s three. She started to giggle.

Mrs. Murphy’s eyes followed Pewter’s gaze and she giggled, too. “Let’s just say that Tucker can turn inside Brinkley. You’ve got to give her that.”

“I do,” Pewter replied. “Here comes Tavener. It’s about time he buys himself a new truck.”

Equine and cattle vets could easily rack up forty thousand miles a year in Virginia making calls. A very good vet, which Tavener was, would cover his own county and adjoining counties, plus he would be called out of state for special consulting jobs. On any given day Tavener or Fair might find themselves down at Blacksburg at Virginia Tech or up at Leesburg at the Marion duPont Scott Equine Center, two outstanding hospital facilities.

Tavener’s Ford, a 1996 diesel engine, labored with over 320,000 miles on the speedometer. Strong as a work truck is, sooner or later the owner is going to pour money into brakes, clutch cables, maybe even a replaced piston. Tavener wasn’t cheap, but he’d get attached to a vehicle and then complain bitterly if he had to adjust to a new one, because there was always something different. He did not regard items like air bags or wishbone suspension as improvements.

The two dogs stopped as the truck pulled up to the shed.

Tucker, wishing to teach the young Lab, who had just turned a year old, said, “Never take your eyes off the human until your human indicates it’s okay.”

“But it’s Tavener.”

“That doesn’t matter, Brinkley. The only people you don’t guard are family members or best, best friends. For instance, I wouldn’t stare down Susan. But I even follow BoomBoom until Harry says ‘Hello’ or something. A dog can’t be too careful. And you have to remember—I know I keep repeating this to you—human senses are dull. It’s not just their eyes or nose, but they shut down their feelings. They miss so much.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.” The yellow Lab wagged his tail as Tavener smiled at them.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to break a sweat.” Fair, who’d just come up on the roof, laughed as he looked down at his colleague.

“You’re right.” Tavener laughed, too.

“There’s room up here on the roof. I don’t want you to feel lonesome down there. I’m checking the crimping on the seams,” Harry called to him as the other people stuck their heads out of the workroom to greet the genial vet.

“Okay, now we can tag along.” Tucker bounced up to Tavener, who scratched her ears.

“Keeping everyone in line, Tucker?” Tavener sternly regarded her.

“Indeed.”

“Me, too.” Brinkley offered a paw.

“Dog’s are so-o-o obsequious.” Pewter sniffed.

“They can’t help it, Pewter. They’re pack animals. So are humans. It’s why they get along like they do,” Mrs. Murphy sagely noted.

Pewter shrugged, a thinly disguised air of superiority. “Well, not everyone can be a cat.”

“Hey, look at that.” Mrs. Murphy quickly walked to the edge of the roof, turned around, and backed down the ladder.

Tavener had lifted from the back of his truck a long, thin package wrapped in butcher paper. A verdigris pole could be seen sticking out from the bottom.

Harry hurried down the ladder, Pewter perched on her shoulders. Pewter could back down a ladder if she had to; she did it in the barn often enough, but that ladder was nailed to the wall. Under these circumstances, hitching a ride with Harry was preferable.

“Harry, you need this.” Tavener beamed as he handed her the package.

She knelt down, carefully placing it on the grass, and the others gathered around. Fair finally climbed off the roof to join in.

“Oh, Tavener. This is just about perfect.” Harry stood up and hugged him.

“A cat weather vane!” Mrs. Murphy thought this an excellent present.

The hunt horses, curious, watched from the paddock.

Gin Fizz said, “Don’t get the big head, pussycats.”

“You have your weather vane on the barn,” Pewter sang out. “We do just as much work in the barn as anyone.”

“Pewter, how can you lie like that and keep a straight face?” Tomahawk sounded stentorian.

The other horses laughed, including the broodmares who had come up from the adjoining paddock.

“What about me?” Tucker cocked her head. “I protect every animal on this farm.”

“You’re right.” Brinkley was very sympathetic.

Tavener, as if understanding, opened the passenger door to his truck and lifted out a three-by-three-foot hand-painted sign. Against a Charleston green background was Tucker’s head, a beautiful likeness. A thin red and gold pinstripe border was painted one inch from the edge of the sign. And underneath Tucker’s likeness, neatly lettered in Roman bold, was, DEATH FROM THE ANKLES DOWN!

Harry laughed so hard, Fair had to catch her under the armpits before she fell over.

“Wherever . . . ?” BoomBoom fell in love with the sign.

“Tree Street Signs over in Stuart’s Draft. Course, there’s Burruss in Charlottesville. Those are the two best, but I’ve grown fond of the group over in Stuart’s Draft. I couldn’t resist! Harry, you need to warn any newcomer of your security system.” He laughed heartily.

“We’ve got to get one for Herb for his anniversary.” Susan clapped her hands together. “How about his two cats with halos over their heads?”

“Susan, do you think all the parishioners will like that?” Tazio wondered.

“Oh, look, if you’re going to be a Lutheran you might as well have a sense of humor. Anyone who tries to understand centuries of dogma better get a grip,” Susan forthrightly replied.

Paul laughed and shrugged. “I’m Catholic.”

“And whatever Little Mim is at the moment, I am. We’re leaning toward refurbished Episcopalianism.” Blair admired the sign. “Harry, do you want this hanging as a sign by the back door, or do you want it on the side of the house by the back door?”

“Hanging.” She couldn’t get over how delightful these gifts were. She hugged Tavener again, giving him a big kiss on the cheek.

“Luckily, we’ve got a four-by-four left over. Bet I can build you a pretty signpost in no time,” Fair volunteered.

“How about a Coke or a beer or something?” Harry offered Tavener.

“Beer. You wouldn’t have any St. Pauli Girl in there, would you?”

Susan handed him one. “You know, you and I ought to buy stock in the brewery.”

“Good idea.” Tavener took a deep pull. “I came bearing gifts, but I came with a mission. Alicia and I have been talking.” Tavener paused for a moment. “Alicia and Big Mim have agreed. Oh, Herb has agreed. And Harry, finding the ring started all of this, really. Got me to thinking. What would Mary Pat have loved best? So many things crossed my mind, but you know, I hit on the right one. I hit on the thing that would have made her so proud. If all of us put in some money, whatever you can afford, we could create a scholarship in Mary Pat’s name to be awarded each year to a senior graduating from Holy Cross and going on to college. Mim says she knows how to set it up so our money will make money in the stock market. This way we only have to give once.” He held up his hand. “She swears she knows how to do this. But I want all of us who benefited from Mary Pat’s kindness to pitch in.”

“That’s all of Crozet.” Susan smiled. “Ned and I will certainly be part of it.”

The others agreed, even Paul and Tazio.

“But you all never knew her,” Harry said.

“We can give a little something,” Paul said. “A scholarship, that’s special.” He asked Tavener, “What would the student have to do?”

“Oh, not so much do but be. A leader. A good student, maybe not the best student but good. I was thinking maybe it would be a young person who was planning a career in the equine industry.”

“She’d love that,” Harry enthused.

Pewter had heard enough about all this. “Let’s put the weather vane on the shed.”

No one paid much mind.

“Sit on the weather vane,” Mrs. Murphy counseled.

Pewter, with much ceremony, plopped on the pretty metal cat.

Harry reached down and picked her up, making a large groaning noise that Pewter did not find amusing.

Fair lifted up the weather vane. “I’m going to put this right up.”

“Told you,” Mrs. Murphy bragged.

“Before you get back up on the ladder, Jerome been bugging you, too?” asked Tavener.

“I can’t turn around without bumping into him.” Fair laughed. “I could kill him.”

“Me, too, and not feel a twinge of guilt. He overstepped the line. He called the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, and in the process of asking for information about rabies, where had it shown up this spring and so forth, he apparently told them we have a human epidemic.”

“What?” Fair’s jaw dropped.

“Bill Langston called me and said his phone has been ringing off the hook.”

“What does it mean exactly?” Paul inquired. “That he called the Centers for Disease Control?”

“For one thing, the state veterinarian will be here tomorrow.” Tavener sighed. “A good man, but we’re all busy as can be and he’s going to want to see each of us. And for another thing, the head of Public Health will get his butt over from Richmond, and might I remind you this is an election year. He’ll chew out the county health officials, all of whom properly did their jobs. God only knows what will happen if some genius candidate gets hold of this. Remember years ago”—he directed this to Harry, Fair, Susan, and BoomBoom—“when old Richard Deavers went crackers? For you all”—he indicated Blair, Tazio, and Paul—“Richard Deavers had money, and when he lost his mind he decided that humans were abusing animals because they didn’t wear clothes. They were ashamed of their nakedness just like we were when expelled from the Garden of Eden. Anyway, to make a long story short, he must have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to get legislation passed that would force us to put clothes on cats, dogs, horses, cattle, and so on. Some people believed him. Some of them put a new twist on it: nakedness encouraged human immorality. My God, what a mess. We finally voted it down as a state—not local, mind you, but state—referendum. Well, we could be in for something that ridiculous if Jerome Stoltfus isn’t sat down hard.”