Cat & Dog (216)

[PSI-1]

Soup smacked open the back door without checking to see if anyone was behind it. He grinned. “Hi, Miss Hyacinth!”

She paused with a set of indeterminate damp underwear in her hand. “I’m kinda in the middle of something. Are you after a medic lesson or food, kid?”

“Neither! It’s Yule and I’m on vacation! Is Miss Magpie home?”

“She’s upstairs.”

“Cool!” He stuffed a hand in his shirt pocket and drew out a postcard. “Check this out. She’s famous!”

Hyacinth regarded the full-motion black and white image. There was a wobble in the frame that suggested an amused passerby grabbing a camera out of a pocket and taking a quick shot. Just Another Day in San Rosille! the caption advised her. She emitted a very undignified noise and covered her mouth. “Oh, my gods. Get her away from her mother before you show her that.”

“Will do!” He pocketed the card again. “C’mon, Samantha!”

Hyacinth watched the half-metal dog scurry past, still snickering intermittently with the dripping underwear in one hand. “Just Another Day in San Rosille. Even the birds are…” She dropped the underwear back in the bucket and clutched both hands in her hair, losing the tie somewhere behind her. “Oh, my gods. Soup! Wait!”

“Hey, Maggie!” she heard distantly. “You wanna… Yikes!”

She arrived at the bottom of the stairs just in time to pick up the ensuing barking, yowling, and screaming a lot more clearly.

“I’m sorry, I forgot we have a cat!” she cried, at operatic volume to be heard over the chaos. “I’m sorry! I have brain damage! He’s new! I’m sorry!” She presented herself in the bedroom, minus one cheap shoe which had flown off at the top of the stairs. “Is everyone okay?”

“Leave it,” the General said. Hyacinth caught herself before she took off her goggles and left them on the floor. “Hssht! Leave it. Down. Leave it. Damn it.” She hooked two fingers under the small dog’s collar and began to drag it away. Samantha continued to bark and jump, but she quieted after walking a few paces. “I require disinfectant anyway. This is your fault, Mister Rinaldi,” the General remarked in passing. She held up one scratched and bloody hand. “And yours, apparently,” she added, to Hyacinth.

“Hang on,” said the medic. “Let me…”

“No. Examine the kitten when it lets you. Come, Samantha. Good girl, that’s right.”

Hyacinth detected a small, fuzzy object huddled behind the desk lamp, which Maggie was protecting with both arms flung wide and a purple fireball in her hand. “Why do you take that damn dog everywhere, huh?” the girl demanded. “You… You are… totally codependent, you know that?”

“Why do you have a cat?” Soup demanded similarly. “Aren’t you a goddamn bird? You have a death wish or something?”

“He’s already used to me and he thinks I’m his mommy! He knows I’m not food! Unlike your damn dog!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Hyacinth skidded in between them and put up her hands. “You guys, the kitten’s already scared. Lower the volume. Let me see if I can get him to come out, see if he’s okay. Okay?”

“He better be okay,” Maggie growled. She edged aside and let Hyacinth past.

“Hey, kitty,” Hyacinth said sweetly. “Come on.”

“It’s okay, M’Lord Jonathan Digby-Forsythe,” Maggie said.

Soup smacked a hand to his forehead. “Oh, gods, it’s a Digby. Of course it’s a Digby. You can’t take two steps at the school without tripping over a Digby. I thought Midnight was the last one!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Maggie said.

“Bethany’s Digby. Bethany’s kitten. The black one. I thought we were all done with Digbies when she gave it back. Why do you still have one?”

“What do you mean ‘still?’ He’s mine! Seth gave him to me!”

“Take it in another room,” Hyacinth said. “Here, kitty-kitty.”

“I’ll get changed, he likes me,” Maggie said. She took a few rapid steps towards the door.

“No loud noises and unnecessary magic, just go and let Soup show you the funny postcard.”

“I don’t even care about the funny postcard, I just want to make sure your mom’s not strangling my dog.” Soup flung a hand at them and left.

Maggie tromped after him and politely shut the door before screaming, “You see what I mean about codependent!”

This set the dog off again, downstairs.

Hyacinth sighed. “I’m sorry, kotik, but at least you’re safe and alive. You come out when you’re ready.”

———

Erik was sitting under the Yule tree and clinging to Samantha, with three fingers hooked under her collar for insurance. Every time she barked she lunged. It was like trying to control a twenty-five-pound hairy cocktail weenie. “You guys! Um-um-um… Cut it out!”

Mordecai peeped out from behind the door to Room 102. Despite being a dog person now, he had no idea how to deal with a barking, excitable one. But he didn’t think Erik knew either, so he was supervising. From a distance.

“That damn dog tried to eat Digby and Soup thinks I should give him away!”

“No she didn’t and I never said that! What’s your problem?”

“Then what the hell did you mean, ‘give him back to the school’? Huh?”

“Bethany did! And Lila and Kelly and Edie and Joe! Seth has walls and a roof now and they thought he oughta have his cats back! Lila thought it first,” he added. “Then the Weaver kids and Bethany agreed with her.”

Maggie scowled at him. “So what?”

“So I didn’t know you had one! Geez!”

The General emerged from the kitchen with three neat bandages lined up on the back of her hand. “The dog is not going to stop barking until all of you do,” she said calmly. “Master Weitz, do not pull back, pull up. This altercation is not Samantha’s fault, Magnificent. Dogs, especially dogs that spend their time on the streets feeding themselves, are wired to chase small animals. This is not meant as an insult or threat, it is merely a fact of life. The error is primarily Hyacinth’s, as Mister Rinaldi did not know we now have a cat.” She turned slightly to address Soup in particular. “We have a cat now,” she said.

“Yeah, and we’re keeping him!” Maggie accused, darting a finger.

“Magnificent…”

“Well, we are,” she muttered, quiter. “So you do something about the dog. Tie her up outside if she won’t quit following you.”

“I have never tied up my dog and I’m not going to,” Soup said coldly.

“Then you can’t visit anymore,” Maggie declared. “Go eat at the school.”

Soup sputtered. “There… There are, like, three times as many cats over there!”

“Too bad.”

Hyacinth scurried out of Room 202 and shut the door behind her, so the kitten couldn’t follow. “Maggie, you’re not in charge of whether Soup gets to eat here. I’m training him to do bootleg medicine, so he’s going to be around anyway.”

“It’s not safe!” Maggie cried. Ordinarily, that would have alerted Milo, but he was in SoHo helping Calliope get ready for her art show, and watching Lucy, as needed.

In his absence, Erik popped up with a solution that did not involve building kitten-sized mechanical armor: “I can fix it!” He turned, with a hopeful smile. “Uncle, can I?”

Mordecai sighed and put a hand to his head. “Tell me who, and what he wants, and any hazards.” He caught himself. “I don’t mean ‘he.’”

“Yeah you do, but I don’t need a hint,” Erik said. “Brother Grigori Francis. He doesn’t want anything, he just wants to stay and play with ‘em, and if you don’t give him a time limit he’ll hang out for days. He won’t go into anyone who’s mean to animals and I’m not, and nobody else here is either so he won’t hurt them.”

“Sometimes he eats pet food,” Mordecai said. “We had some horses at the wall and we had him in to look at the horses and he ate some of their food and told us it wasn’t good enough.”

Erik snickered. “Did he make my mom do that?”

“No.” He considered for a moment and decided it wouldn’t hurt anyone to tell. “He was in Seth.”

Maggie snorted and covered her mouth with a hand.

“After Greg left, he just said, ‘To be honest, I wouldn’t be happy eating that either.’ Then he drank about a gallon of tea.”

“That is messed up,” Soup said, but he couldn’t suppress a smile.

“We’re feeding Digby mincemeat and butter and I don’t mind that,” Erik said. “And Samantha eats peanut butter, I eat that all the time anyways. So can I?”

Mordecai shooed a hand at him. “I don’t want them to fight either, and he’s not too hard to hold. It’s all right, Erik. I’ll mind him if he needs it, just don’t give him more than an hour.”

Erik saluted him before turning to go down the basement stairs.

Mordecai managed to hold back the shudder until he wasn’t looking. It was the salute, that was all. Greg was a decent Invisible.

“Who is he calling?” Maggie said.

“An animal person,” Mordecai said. “I suppose I should’ve given them until dinner. Calliope is going to be upset she missed it. If anyone around here could come up with some great questions to ask a dog, it’d be her.”

———

Erik returned from the basement five minutes later and instantly broke the first rule of dog introductions, addressing himself to Samantha instead of her trusted entourage, with far too much excitement. However, he did not look her in the eye or approach beyond the basement doorway. “Hi, puppy! Who’s a good little sausage? Sweet girl!”

The General noted his accent seemed to have drifted somewhat west of Gundaland, but he seemed to have a fair grasp of idiomatic speech. One would expect an eternal being to have some time for dialect coaching, but the Invisibles never made any damn sense.

Samantha bounced backwards and cautiously wagged her tail, as if a new trash can had suddenly plunked down in front of her but she didn’t know whether it contained food yet.

“Come on, girl! I’ll bring your friend back later, I promise! Let’s play!”

Samantha scuttled over, clicking. She thumped on her side and curled up her legs to offer her belly for scratching. Erik dropped to his knees at almost the same instant and obliged. “I know! I look just like him! That is metal like you have! Smart girl! Oh, I know, I’ll be careful. Itchy-itchy-itchy!”

Soup edged towards Maggie. “I can talk to a dog like that. Where’s the barking?”

Maggie considered and discarded the idea that Erik was pulling a prank. This wasn’t his style. She planted her hands on her hips. “Uncle Mordecai, are you sure this guy is legit?”

“Oh, some people!” Erik stood up and clasped his hands. “I love the people! People are animals too! I see you put symbolic dead plants in your nesty-nest again, you sillies.” He indicated the Yule tree with a wave. “And you can’t even eat it. So cute! You seem familiar.” He regarded Mordecai with narrowed eyes. “We remember not to feed the nice horsies silage, don’t we, little man?”

Mordecai saluted him. “Plenty of hay for grazing, sir. I know they’re steppe animals now. You must understand, it’s hard for me to get experience with, um, horsies.”

Erik dismissed him with a shake of his head and a smile. “Oh, I know! I’m just making sure. You’re a dog person! Ooh, let’s see.” He turned slowly, doing a sweep of the whole room and its occupants. “Dog person, dog person, dog person.” He pointed to the General, Mordecai and Soup. “Cat person, cat person.” Maggie and Hyacinth. He grinned and laid a hand on his one chest. “God person! Ah-ha-ha-ha!” He had a laugh like a regency-era fop. “Please excuse me, I must have my little jokes. Where’s the kitty-cat?”

“He’s upstairs and he’s staying upstairs because she tried to eat him,” Maggie said.

“No she didn’t!” Soup said.

“Yes she did,” Brother Grigori said. Erik dropped to his knees again and picked up Samantha’s face with both hands. “Our grandmama was a terrier, wasn’t she? Oojie-oooh! We just love tearing up little animals and hearing them scream! Get her some more squeaky toys, Mister Person. You. The yellow male. Third from the left. Yes, you. She just loves the squeaky toys. It’s almost as good as screaming!”

“What the hell kind of animal person are you?” Maggie cried.

“Honest.” Erik shrugged. “Don’t give yourself airs, Missy Person-pie. Every time something eats something dies and there’s no way around it. They don’t hold it against each other, why should you?”

“Because we’re smarter than they are,” Hyacinth said dully.

“Oh, that’s cuuute,” Brother Grigori said. He framed her in Erik’s fingers like a photograph. “And the people are always saying cats are arrogant. That’s adorable!” He seemed entirely sincere. “Would you like a veggie treat of some kind? Do you do eggs and cheese? Ooh! Can I feed the female a nice cruelty-free watercress sandwich? I have time!” Erik put a hand in or near his back pocket and produced a square, tea-sized watercress sandwich with the crusts cut off. “Here, person. Here girl! Who wants yum-yums?”

Hyacinth pursed her lips and squinted as if trying to discern the components of a stubborn stain.

“Not hungry? She’s not hungry,” Brother Grigori confided to Samantha, aside. “That’s okay!” He gave his hand a quick twist and the sandwich evaporated. Samantha jumped up with a bark and planted her paws on Erik’s thighs. “No, no, no. You like peanut butter and bacon. Just give me a second.” He put his hand behind his back again and came out with a crunchy piece of bacon with a dab of peanut butter on the end. “Look! Magic! Ah-ha-ha-ha! Puppies think all people do magic. I can’t impress you! Here you go.” He fed her the treat out of his palm. “But that’s all, this isn’t good for you. No, it can taste good and still be bad for you. I know it doesn’t make sense, but you’ll just have to trust me.”

“Excuse me, can you explain to her about raisins and chocolate and that stuff, as long as you’re here?” Soup put in. “And cars?”

“I’ll try if I have time, but I can’t promise she’s going to believe me. I gave her a treat but she barely knows me. I think about the best I can do is tell her it would upset you if she ate those things. She likes you. But she might still try to get away with it when you’re not looking.” He frowned at her. “That’s not nice, pupper-poo, but I understand. You don’t have any authority,” he told Soup. “Nobody does. You’re like a widdle bwother. And she already knows about the cars. Those people in the car sped up and swerved to hit her.” He folded Erik’s arms. “I don’t like to be specist over here, Mister Person, but I only ever catch the people doing things like that. That’s why I always make sure they’re not going to hurt anyone and they’re tame. May I introduce the puppy to the kitty-cat now? That’s what the little green boy wanted me to do. I don’t want to get distracted! Ah-ha-ha!”

“No,” said the General. “Whatever you call yourself, you are a con-artist performing a specialized type of cold reading. If you try to ‘introduce’ a cat to that dog, you are only going to get one or both of them injured. You are not in any way speaking to Samantha, because dogs do not speak Anglais!” She glared at Mordecai. “You consider yourself intelligent and you bought this… this glorified sideshow?”

“Go, Mom,” Maggie muttered.

“Oooh, she doesn’t trust me, we’re not fwiends,” Brother Grigori said. Erik paced back and forth in front of the General, looking her up and down. “She doesn’t want food or a toy. This is difficult. The people are so difficult.” He leaned backwards and addressed Mordecai, “Something specific the dog knows, but the boy doesn’t know, and one or more of you can confirm it is correct and he couldn’t know it?”

The red man sighed. “I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that, Greg. Erik knows all kinds of things he couldn’t know and he can read our minds.”

“Well, I don’t know how to do that, you silly old thing!” Brother Grigori pouted. “Of course I can’t prove a negative. Darn you people. This is why I like to have more time. I’m not just messing around! If I have to push you all away to get to that kitty-cat before my hour’s up you’re all going to be unhappy.” Erik looked miserable. “And you seem like such nice people. In your cute little outfits and everything. Look at your little shoesies, they’re just the right size! Oh, no! Where did your feets go? Ah-ha-ha! Doesn’t your lady-friend trust you, little suit-baby?”

Mordecai self-consciously straightened his little suit. “I’m afraid she doesn’t, and we are not friends.”

“What happened to Missy Blue Person? Your little wifey! She can test me! She can read minds! Oh! Is she his mommy?”

Mordecai winced. “She is not here, and no. She is not Erik’s mommy. Or anybody’s wifey.”

“Aw, that would’ve been so cute. It’s a shame. The people think animals that mate for life are so cute, but they can’t quite manage it themselves.” He sighed. “I can’t do everything, no one can, but for all you poor things know my power is summoning tiny yum-yums. I get results, but I can’t show you results because the female is territorial.”

“‘The female,’” said the General, “is halfway intelligent and refuses to be bullied by patronizing gods.”

“Cute, but frustrating,” Brother Grigori said. “Will you help me explain something to the lady, little pup-pup? I promise I’ll give you another peanut butter bacon — even though I just said you couldn’t have one. Well, I’m a softie, that’s what it is.” He produced another treat of the expected variety from thin air. “Could you wait on eating this until I say? I promise I’m not teasing. You can have it for sure, just wait a little.” He put up both hands and addressed the whole room, “You are friends with the puppy and you know how much she loves food, especially the peanut butter bacon, yes, peoples?”

“I have never seen her eat both of those things at once and I didn’t know she liked them together,” Soup said.

“Oh.” Erik frowned. “Well, she ate it before and she’s still hungry. You’ll see. Here, puppy. Wait please.” He put the bacon on the floor.

Samantha sniffed it.

“Oh, please, puppy. Help me out. I want them to like me.” Erik smiled hopefully.

Samantha sat without eating and regarded Brother Grigori, wagging slightly.

“Nonverbal cues,” the General muttered. “Psychic Horse Phenomenon…”

Brother Grigori sighed. “Little suity-suit, can you explain to the chonky baby girl? I’m so bad at talking to the people.”

Mordecai took a deep breath and tried to sublimate his objection to being called ‘little suity-suit.’ If you objected to any of Greg’s human-pet names, he would just come up with something worse. “General D’Iver — and let me take a moment to apologize for Greg, because he won’t.” He waited until she looked slightly less murderous to continue, “We cannot judge the Invisibles by what they say, only by what they do. In practical terms, it doesn’t matter if Brother Grigori Francis is a pathological liar who only pretends he can talk to animals to amuse himself. If he is able to prevent Samantha from eating food, he will be able to prevent her from eating a kitten. He can deliver what he promised. You may allow him to do so safely.”

“He may be producing the desired behavior by hurting her somehow,” the General said.

“I would never!” cried Brother Grigori.

Samanatha gave a bark that sounded rather offended, but that was just anthropomorphizing.

“She doesn’t seem to be in any pain to me,” Mordecai said.

“You have no judgment, you fed her chocolate,” the General disdained.

“WHAT?” That was a very un-Erik-like roar, but it came out of his mouth in his vocal register. He waved a hand. Mordecai slammed into the wall at head height and stuck there.

Hyacinth covered a snicker with her hand.

“What am I going to have to do to you to stop you from feeding animals the wrong thing? I have tried to be civil! You are going to kill someone with your negligence! The people are impossible to train and they DO NOT LISTEN! I’m going to relocate you to the North Pole, where you can’t hurt any — No! Damn it! There’s BEARS!”

“Mr. Francis!” Maggie waved both hands over her head. “If you hurt Erik’s uncle he will never call you again! He did not hurt Samantha, she is fine!”

He glanced back at her. “Please call me Greg, little kiddie-girl. You don’t need to be so formal.”

“Greg, I did not know about the grain or the chocolate because we are talking about animals that I am physically incapable of interacting with under normal circumstances!” Mordecai said. “I am sorry, I will not do it again, but I did not intend harm and you are not being fair!”

Erik covered his eyes with a hand and hefted a sigh. Without looking, he shooed another gesture at Mordecai and let him down to the floor. “I get upset. I just get upset. I see a lot of bad people doing bad things and I get upset. People are animals too. I’m so sorry, little green boy.” He brushed lightly at Erik’s shirt. “You can have the bacon, puppy. I’m sorry. I forgot about you.”

Samantha carefully removed the bacon from Brother Grigori’s vicinity with her teeth, and sat against Soup’s feet before she began eating.

“Now I’ve made everyone unhappy anyway,” Brother Grigori said. “Would you like some sandwich, people? Tuna salad? How about theater tickets? The people just love theater tickets. Do you like Hamilton? Everyone likes Hamilton! No? Oh, no, your widdle faces are devoid of recognition. Do you know what theater tickets are? Yes? Er, how about Lion Hamlet? It has puppets! For the babies! You like puppets! Fun!” He was clutching a little fan of tickets and looking hopeful.

Maggie addressed her mother, “This person is either insane or he genuinely loves animals and either way, I think we better let him talk to the cat.”

The General nodded, “I respect your judgment.”

Erik smiled. “I’m not a person. Silly girl. What cute little braids. Would you like a candy bar?”

Maggie was torn — that looked like a Carrie’s Gold Bar —  but under the circumstances, she decided not to accept a candy bar.

———

“Ohh, so cute!” Brother Grigori declared. “You really are a bitty baby boy, aren’t you?”

Digby had begun crying as soon as he heard footsteps approaching and he continued, as if having a real conversation. But if that was how it worked, he wasn’t giving the god any room to get a word in edgewise. Erik stooped and picked him up. Samantha poked her head past the door but stayed back this time, observing.

“Birdies?” said Brother Grigori. “What birdies? Did you lose a toy-toy?” He peeked under the larger bed. “No?” He lifted Digby to eye level with a frown. “These seem like very unusual birdies, little kitty.”

“My mom and I can turn into birds, he likes that,” Maggie said. She gave Hyacinth a swat. “I told you!”

“He was already freaked out and it’s too damn loud,” Hyacinth said.

“Oh! Tricks!” He put Digby on the bed and sat beside him with eager clasped hands. “The people do tricks! Show me some tricks, little peoples!”

“No,” said the General.

Brother Grigori addressed the cat, “I’m sorry, kitty-kitty, they don’t want to be birdies now. No, the birdies and the people are the same. They just change.”

Digby hissed and puffed up.

Erik smiled apologetically at the assembled group. “He’s very little. Everything is new. It’s all right, kitty. That’s just something the people do. Yes! Like the tree in the house! Peoples are funny, aren’t they? No, they’re not kitties at all. It’s because they’re peoples, not ‘stoopid kitties.’” Erik turned and mouthed words from behind his hand, So little!

Digby had unpuffed slightly, but he was still walking sideways and staring at the people.

“Do you remember other kitties? You had a mommy and brothers and sisters, right? No, no, that’s a person. I don’t know. I didn’t meet that person. No, they don’t change colors. Well, they do, but not all over. Um. Hard to explain. Do you people know someone tall and blue, or who wears blue?” Brother Grigori asked. “Or it might be purple, kitties have trouble with reds. He wants another ride outside in the warm clothes, but not if it’s wet. And no other kitties, just him.” Erik frowned. “That is selfish, little kitty. Aw.” He smiled. “I can’t stay mad at you.”

Soup blinked. “He’s talking about Seth.”

“He just means the guy who brought him to our house in the rain,” Maggie said.

The General snorted. “I see we are jumping into credulity with both feet now.”

“I’m humoring him,” Maggie muttered.

“Well, he doesn’t like rain, but he likes warm clothes and outside,” Brother Grigori said. “‘Warm fur,’ he thinks you have fur, I can never get textiles across. Don’t dress him up, he still wouldn’t understand. But you should let him into the garden someday when it’s sunny. He thinks that person is for that, like your big round dishes are for poop, because none of you ever take him outside.”

“Cin says he can’t go outside because he’ll eat birds and we don’t have a garden,” Maggie replied dully.

“Hey,” Hyacinth said, “could you ask him not to eat birds? Or mice?”

Brother Grigori scoffed. “Kitties are apex predators and their whole lives revolve around hunting. I’m not going to tell him not to have any fun because you’re squeamish, Missy Person, and the little green boy didn’t ask me to do that.”

Mordecai cleared his throat and noted politely, “You’re running out of time to do what he did ask you to do, Greg. Can we get back to it?”

Erik nodded. “I’m sowwy, peoples, I warned you I get a little distracted.” He addressed the kitten at eye level, “I have a new friend for you who’s like a kitty, but also not a kitty, like the people. It’s a puppy! Here, puppy! This is the kitty I was telling you about. He’s not food! Wow, right?”

Digby hissed at Samantha. She whined.

“Oh.” Erik picked up the kitten and bounced him like a fussy baby. “It’s not on purpose. You always check stuff that’s smaller than you in case it’s food too. Yes! Like bugs! I’m just telling the puppy you’re not a bug. Oh, the kitty eats bugs sometimes, they’re smaller than him,” he explained to Samantha. “The kitty is small because he’s a baby, not food. Like a puppy! Except a cat. A baby cat. The people are taking care of him while he grows up, that’s why they were mad you wanted to eat him. They weren’t keeping him to eat. He’s a pack member. Hm?” He regarded the kitten. “You’re growing up. You’re going to get bigger. Haven’t you noticed you’re getting bigger? And more teeth?” He laughed. “No, not that much bigger and that many teeth! Still smaller than the puppy. Oh, that’s nice. Puppy, the kitty wants to know if you’ll take care of him forever, because you’re bigger. Animals don’t think about the future like you do, people,” he told them. “There’s only ‘right now’ and ‘forever.’ It’s not like a commitment, just as far forward as they can see.”

Samantha gave a low bark and wagged.

“She says yes!” Brother Grigori announced. He plopped the kitten on the floor in front of Samantha. All of the human observers tensed up, and Maggie gave a little yelp. “Whooo wants a toy-toy? Oh, let me think, what can you both play with? A jingle-ball!” He produced a small rubber ball from behind his back. When he shook it, the tiny bell inside was audible, and a wink of silver showed through a dark hole. “Jingle-jingle! For Yule! What?” He shrugged. “Oh, that’s just people religion, don’t worry about that. Here you go!” He dropped it on the floor. It bounced and rolled. Digby batted it with a paw and looked up at Samantha. Samantha danced her front paws on the floor and stuck her butt in the air, wagging.

“That just means ‘play,’ little kitty,” Brother Grigori said. Erik winked.

Digby batted the ball in Samantha’s direction. She picked it up and chewed on it for a few moments, before spitting it out. Digby chased after it again. The merry jingling was incessant.

“Now, when you say ‘people religion,’” Hyacinth began cautiously.

Mordecai nudged her and shook his head. “Just let the god play with the animals until his time’s up. No more compli…”

“Can you tell her not to eat the ones at the school too?” Soup said.

Erik brightened. “What ones at the school?”

“There’s three more kittens at the school and I don’t want her to eat them either.”

“Damn it,” Mordecai muttered.

“Where is this school?” Erik shut one eye, the one he could, and put a hand to his head. “Wait, wait. I know where it is! Is that far?”

“It’s a forty-five minute walk,” Maggie said, “and you can’t…”

Mordecai waved both arms as if trying to flag down an airship, “Wait…”

Erik waved a hand. “Oh, that’s all right. I’ll just relocate us! Do you want to come too, kitty? Outside? Yes, you can bring your toy-toy! Yay!” He picked up the ball and the kitten. Erik, Digby, Samantha, and a very confused-looking Soup and Maggie, vanished in a flash of green light. There was a tearing sound of air filling a sudden space.

Hyacinth winced. “Loud…”

The General had Mordecai’s shirt collar in her fist. She looked around the room with narrowed eyes as she spoke, “Is this a… a prank? Where are they?”

“At the school, General D’Iver. Let me…”

“You can’t teleport people, it kills them!” the General cried.

“Brother Grigori is a god, General D’…”

There was another flash, this time a white one, and a slightly less-loud tearing sound. A large golden eagle had taken the place of the woman. She gave a cry and the largest bedroom window shattered, littering the roof and yard in colored glass. She exited the building forthwith.

Hyacinth’s vision cleared up just in time to catch Mordecai departing via the door. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m going to put my coat on, then I’m going to the school,” he called back.

She ran out and found him going down the stairs. “Why?”

“Because Erik is going to pop back into his body in a little more than twenty minutes and I think he’s going to be a teeny bit upset he called a god that glued me to the wall and threatened to teleport me to the North Pole. And then the General is going to show up and scream at him. I can’t fly, but I’d like to be there to pick up the pieces as soon as I can.”

“Of course you can fly,” Hyacinth said. “You just don’t know how to drive it. Let me get my doctor bag.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mordecai said. “But if it gets me to the school faster, I’m willing to put up with it. Don’t forget your coat.” He darted into Room 102 to collect his.

“Bring the carpet out with you!” Hyacinth hollered. “I just hope it doesn’t only work for mollies,” she muttered. She ran to the kitchen for her bag.