Spy Cat Page 2

  2

  As they walked toward the rental truck, Mary said, “I’ll start school on Monday at Hilltop School.”

  “That’s where we go,” Benjie said. “I’m in first grade.”

  “What grade are you in?” Alex asked Mary.

  “Sixth.”

  “So am I.”

  “Do you like it?” Mary asked.

  Alex shrugged. “School is school. It’s okay, I guess, except for all the homework.”

  “I love school,” Mary said. “Especially science.”

  “I love school, too,” Benjie said. “Especially recess.”

  As they approached Mary’s house, a handsome golden retriever hobbled toward them on three legs, wagging his tail.

  “This is Rufus,” Mary said.

  The dog licked Alex’s hand and submitted to a hug from Benjie.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Mary said. “He still trusts and loves people after all he’s been through.”

  Mary introduced her grandmother, Mrs. Sunburg. Then they all set to work carrying cardboard boxes from the truck to the house.

  The three kids chatted as they worked.

  “Gramma tried to save money on our move,” Mary said, “so she hired two men who call themselves Muscle Men Movers. They weren’t too careful when they loaded our things. One of them dropped my desk, and we’re lucky it wasn’t ruined. I don’t think they have much experience.”

  “How did she know about them?” Alex asked.

  “From an ad stuck on the bulletin board outside the post office. I think we should have used an established moving company. They were supposed to follow us here, but we’ve been here over an hour, and they haven’t arrived yet.”

  “Maybe they got lost.”

  Mary sighed. “Gramma is too trusting,” she said. “She’s always trying to help out somebody in need. She hired those jokers because she thought they needed the money, not because they were qualified. I hope we see our furniture again.”

  Mrs. Sunburg came out in time to hear that last comment. “You must have faith in your fellowman,” she said. “Think good of others, and they’ll live up to your opinion of them.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Mary said, “but I don’t have too high an opinion of anyone who calls Pearly a stupid rat. That guy even said we had to drive Pearly over here ourselves because he ‘didn’t want a stupid rat’s cage’ in his truck. As if I would have entrusted Pearly to those two.”

  “We had a rat in my classroom last year,” Benjie said. “His name was Randolph and we took turns cleaning his cage. He wasn’t stupid, though. He was smart. He learned his name and he learned to run back in his cage whenever the bell rang.”

  “Pearly probably isn’t as smart as a rat,” Mary said. “Possums have small brains. But that’s no reason to dislike her. Did you know that possums are marsupials? They carry their young in pouches, the way kangaroos do.”

  Every few minutes, a loud cat howl came from behind a closed door on the second floor and echoed through the house.

  “I can hear Howley Girl,” Alex said. “You gave her the right name.”

  “She’s shut in the upstairs bathroom until we finish moving in,” Mary said. “We were afraid she’d slip outside and get lost.”

  “Can I go in and see her?” Benjie asked.

  “You’d better not, since you have a cat at home. Cat colds are contagious, and I wouldn’t want Pete to get sick.”

  It was noon when they hauled the last box inside. Muscle Men Movers still hadn’t arrived with the furniture.

  By then Alex knew that Mary’s parents both worked for a nonprofit organization that provided medical supplies to needy people in other countries.

  “They get home twice a year to visit,” Mary said. “I live with Gramma and her critters.”

  Alex didn’t think he’d like that arrangement. Even though Mom nagged him to clean his room and eat more vegetables, and Dad had strict rules about no TV until Alex’s homework was done, Alex knew he would miss his parents terribly if they were gone for months at a time.

  “You must have lunch with us,” Mrs. Sunburg said as she took the top off a large cooler. “I brought more food than Mary and I can eat.” She made each of them a sandwich while Mary poured orange juice into glasses.

  “Saturday is my main spy day,” Benjie said as they ate. “Today I’m going to look for flying green panthers. Their tails spin around like helicopter propellers, and the panthers rise up and hover over the treetops.”

  Mrs. Sunburg looked startled.

  Mary laughed.

  “The panthers are hard to spot,” Benjie went on, “because they’re the same color as the leaves, and their tails don’t make any noise. I’ll need to use my binoculars.”

  “Let me know if you see one,” Mary said. “I’d like to see it, too.”

  “I will,” Benjie promised. “Maybe I’ll even show you my secret spy hideout.”

  “That’s an honor,” Alex told Mary.

  Mrs. Sunburg said, “I shouldn’t think there would be much work for a spy in Valley View Estates. We chose this house because it’s so peaceful here. What a relief to be out in the country, away from all the big-city crime.”

  “We’ve had trouble here, too,” Alex said.

  “I know about the arson fires,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “We got this house at a bargain price because it had to be rebuilt.”

  “Is there any dessert?” Benjie asked.

  “Benjie!” Alex said. “That isn’t polite.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “I’m trying to lose weight, and Mary doesn’t have a sweet tooth.”

  “We need to get home, anyway,” Alex said. “Thanks for lunch.”

  Benjie ran on ahead. Alex knew he was heading for the cookie jar.

  Alex lingered long enough to tell Mrs. Sunburg and Mary about the burglary at Rocky’s house. He didn’t like to worry them, but he wanted them to be cautious.

  When Alex got home, his parents were watching a television news broadcast while they ate sandwiches. Benjie sat at the table with an open package of frosted animal cookies in front of him.

  Ordinarily Alex would have ignored the news and gone for the cookies, but as he walked in he heard the announcer say, “Last night a burglary in Hilltop almost turned deadly.”

  Alex looked at the TV screen. Valley View Estates was at the edge of Hilltop! Was the announcer going to tell about the burglary at Rocky’s house? But that had been this morning, not last night. There must have been another burglary in the area.

  When the commercials finally ended, the announcer said, “A cat burglar struck the small rural community of Hilltop last night. Darren Ludwig, who lives alone in a rented house, awakened around two A.M. and heard someone in his kitchen. When he went to investigate, he was struck on the head and knocked unconscious. By the time Mr. Ludwig came to and called for help, the burglar had removed many valuables from the home. Mr. Ludwig has a concussion but is expected to make a full recovery.”

  Alex felt a chill down the back of his neck. He wondered if the person who had hit the man on the head last night had also been in Rocky’s house this morning.

  “There has been a rash of burglaries in rural areas in recent weeks,” the announcer said. “The cat burglar, who entered the Hilltop home by breaking a window, usually comes at night, although there have been some daytime burglaries, too. Police don’t know if the same person is responsible for all the thefts. Everyone is reminded to keep their doors and windows locked.”

  “Why is there never any good news?” Mr. Kendrill said. “Every day we hear about murders and wars and now another burglary.”

  “Why do cats always get the blame?” Pete said. “Nobody ever talks about dog burglars.”

  “Burglars broke into Rocky’s house,” Alex said.

  “They did?” Mr. Kendrill said. “When?”

  “This morning.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” Mrs. Kendrill asked. “Were Rocky and his parents at
home?”

  Alex told his shocked family what had happened. When he finished, he heard a sniffling sound and saw a tear roll down Benjie’s cheek.

  “What if the burglars come here?” Benjie said.

  “They’ll regret it,” Pete said. He went to his scratching post and began sharpening his claws.

  “Oh, honey, they won’t come here,” Mrs. Kendrill said.

  “How do you know?” Benjie said. “They went to Rocky’s house. They might come to our house and try to steal Pete.”

  “Let them try,” said Pete.

  Mrs. Kendrill went to Benjie and hugged him.

  “The burglars might come to my school,” Benjie said.

  Mr. Kendrill pointed the remote control at the TV and switched to a channel that played cartoons.

  “If burglars come to Hilltop School,” Alex said, “the whole sixth grade will catch them and tie them up.” He flexed his muscles and made a tough-guy face.

  Benjie started watching the cartoon, but Alex caught the worried glance that his parents exchanged and knew these burglaries were making them anxious, too.

  “If the burglar comes here,” Pete said, “I’ll chase him away. I’ll sneak up behind him and bite him in the rear. He won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

  “Alex,” Mr. Kendrill said, “did you remember to feed Pete this morning?”

  “Yes. I think he’s meowing because he wants to go out.”

  “I’m not meowing,” Pete said. “I’m speaking perfect English.”

  “Want a cookie?” Benjie offered the package to Alex.

  Alex shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  He wasn’t hungry anymore.

  He got Pete’s harness and leash. It was time for what Alex called “cat meditation hour.” Maybe if he stood around outside while Pete ate grass and watched the birds, he would feel less jittery.

  The purpose of Pete’s outings was to give him exercise, but Pete, after begging to go out, often sat in one spot the whole time he was outside. Usually, when Alex stood quietly in the grass beside Pete, he felt calm. The rustling of the wind in the trees, the movements of the birds, and the sun on his shoulders were soothing and made any problems seem less urgent.

  Not today. Today the world seemed less safe than it had been yesterday. Even the trees seemed to whisper ominous warnings, and the sudden flights of the birds hinted at danger. Instead of closing his eyes and letting the sun warm his face as he usually did, Alex found himself looking over his shoulder.

  Benjie is right, he thought. The burglars could come to our house next.

  3

  When the cartoons ended, Benjie put two cookies in his jacket pocket and hung his binoculars around his neck. He walked to his secret hideout, which was a clump of huckleberry bushes on a vacant corner lot. He dropped to his hands and knees, then backed into the bushes until only his face stuck out.

  He pressed his binoculars to his eyes and turned his head slowly from side to side. He had a good view of Valley View Drive, the main street into the housing development where he lived. He could see any vehicles that turned onto his street, Elm Lane, and any that went past Elm, toward Rocky’s street.

  He had planned to watch for flying green panthers today, but that was before he found out that Rocky’s house had been burglarized. Now Benjie was watching for burglars or kidnappers or other bad guys.

  Benjie knew Mom and Dad were upset about the burglaries. They had warned him twice not to talk to strangers, as if he didn’t know that already, and had made him promise not to go beyond the corner.

  Dad had even dug in the junk drawer for the whistle that he used when he coached Alex’s basketball team and had insisted that Benjie wear the whistle around his neck when he was outdoors alone.

  “You can blow it if you ever get lost,” Dad had said.

  Benjie knew Dad really meant, you can blow it if you ever need help. Those burglars were bad guys. If they were bad enough to kick in Rocky’s door and steal things, and to hit that man on the head, maybe they’d do other bad stuff, like blow up houses or kidnap children. Benjie intended to stay watchful.

  Every time a car drove down the street, Benjie looked at it through his binoculars. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, since Valley View Estates was several miles from any city. Only the small town of Hilltop was farther up the road. After Hilltop, the paved road ended. A narrow dirt road continued for a time, then quit altogether.

  Benjie saw an old dented truck turn down Elm Lane. It said MUSCLE MEN MOVERS on the side. Good, he thought. Mary’s furniture is here. He saw two neighbors who lived on Alder Court, the next street over from the Kendrills’. They were both driving down Valley View, headed for the highway; half an hour later one of them returned.

  Next he spotted a vehicle he did not recognize: a mudsplattered pickup truck that sat up higher over the tires than it was meant to. The truck turned onto Elm but made a U-turn right away. It stopped at the corner and sat there with the engine idling. Benjie fiddled with his binoculars, focusing on the truck.

  The driver was a young man wearing a red baseball cap. The woman who sat in the passenger’s side had long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Both of them looked around, peering over their shoulders as if they wanted to be sure they were alone.

  Benjie glanced up and down the street. He saw nobody. As he looked at the truck again, the woman opened her door and leaned out. Benjie wondered if she was carsick. As he trained the binoculars on her, she sat up again and slammed the door shut.

  Instantly, the tires squealed. The driver took off as if he were in a race, leaving a black puff of exhaust fumes behind him.

  As the truck turned the corner and sped away, Benjie looked back at where the truck had stopped.

  A brown cardboard box about a foot square sat in the street, right beside where the truck had been.

  The woman wasn’t carsick, Benjie thought. She leaned out to put that box on the street, and then they drove away fast and left it behind.

  Possibilities flew through Benjie’s mind like a video on fast-forward. It’s a bomb, Benjie thought. It’s a bomb on a timer and it will explode. He looked at the box again. But why would anyone blow up an empty street? Benjie had seen enough news broadcasts to know that terrorists who set off bombs always chose crowded places where they could do as much damage as possible.

  Benjie started to crawl out of his secret place. He would run home and tell Mom and Dad about the box. They could call the police and let them come and get the box.

  He stopped as a new idea occurred to him. Maybe the box was filled with illegal drugs. The people in the truck are drug dealers and this is how they distribute the drugs. Probably another car would drive up soon and take the box away. If so, Benjie needed to stay in his spy place and watch so he could give the police a description of the car and the people who picked up the box.

  He crawled back in the huckleberry bushes and waited. He opened his backpack and removed the notebook and pencil. Although Benjie knew how to read, he didn’t write very well yet, so he couldn’t write down a description of the truck; he would have to remember what it looked like.

  He knew his numbers, though, and he knew the alphabet. If a car stopped near the box, Benjie would get the license number and print it in his notebook.

  Even without the number he could give the police a good description of the truck. While he waited for another car to come he practiced what he would say.

  He focused the binoculars on the box again.

  The top of the box moved! Benjie leaned forward.

  The box moved again. One of the top flaps, which was tucked inside the other flap, kept going up and down as if something alive was inside the box trying to get out.

  Benjie crept out of the bushes. He looked in all directions and saw no vehicles. He ran to the box and crouched beside it.

  “Mrow.”

  The sound was so soft that it took a second for Benjie to realize what he had heard.

  “Mrow.” A tiny paw po
ked up in the space where the edges of the flaps were folded together.

  Benjie opened the box and looked inside.

  A small black-and-tan-striped kitten clambered up the side of the box and toppled into the street. Benjie scooped the kitten up and held it close. “It’s okay, kitty,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

  Outrage flooded through Benjie. Those people had deliberately shut the kitten in a box and left the box in the street. What if a car had come along and run over the box? What if Benjie hadn’t seen the box? A big dog might have smelled it and gotten the box open and killed the kitten. If no one had seen the box, the kitten could have starved to death!

  He held the kitten close and ran for home, carrying the empty box in his other hand.

  * * *

  As soon as Alex finished Pete’s outing, he called Rocky. “Did the sheriff learn anything?” he asked. “Did the new neighbors see who was at your house?”

  “No. The new people weren’t home when it happened. The sheriff thinks the burglar drove up our driveway, loaded our stuff out, and was gone in less than ten minutes.”

  In his mind, Alex saw Rocky’s driveway, which curved around to the back side of the house. A car or truck parked at the end next to the kitchen door wouldn’t be visible from the street.

  All of the houses in Valley View Estates were on large lots, most of them wooded. People here liked their privacy, but the secluded homes made things easier for burglars.

  “We heard on the news that another house in Hilltop got burglarized in the night and the thief knocked out the man who lived there.”

  “I know,” Rocky said. “The sheriff told us about it.”

  “Do you want to sleep over at my house tonight?” Alex asked. “Mom and Dad said you can come anytime and eat dinner with us.”

  “Hold on a minute. I’ll ask.” A few seconds later, Rocky said, “I’ll be there in a little while, but I have to come home early in the morning. We’re going skiing in the mountains tomorrow.”

  “Bring your sleeping bag; it’s my turn to have the bed.”

  Rocky and Alex often spent the night together, and since both boys had only a single bed, they took turns sleeping on the floor.