Spy Cat Page 6

  * * *

  The next morning at breakfast Mrs. Kendrill said, “Remember, Benjie, this is an early dismissal day for you because of conferences, so I won’t be here when you get home from school. You’re to go to Mrs. Sunburg’s house until Alex or I come for you. She likes little boys and says she’s happy to have you anytime I can’t be here after school.”

  “Okay,” Benjie said. “I’ll play with Rufus.”

  Alex was glad to hear his brother say that. Benjie had spent most of yesterday watching the street with his binoculars. When Lizzy was awake, he played with her, but kittens sleep a lot, and Benjie had spent the rest of his time looking for “bad guys.”

  When Benjie had first started pretending to be a spy, his family had encouraged him. Benjie was an imaginative child, and the spy games gave him a way to playact. But since the burglaries, Benjie’s pretending had solemn undertones of fear. It wasn’t a game for Benjie anymore, Alex thought. It was real.

  Alex had overheard his parents discussing Benjie and knew they were concerned about him, too. Last night Benjie had awakened in the night crying from a nightmare, and when his parents asked him about the dream, he had said, “The bad guys came and stole Pete and Lizzy.”

  “The bad guys would never do that,” Dad had said, but Alex knew Benjie was unconvinced.

  This morning, Benjie had his binoculars around his neck while he ate breakfast.

  “Spread the jelly with your knife, Benjie,” Mrs. Kendrill said, “not with your fingers.”

  “If Mom isn’t home when you get here,” Benjie said to Alex, “you should come to Mrs. Sunburg’s house, too.”

  Alex started to say he was old enough to be home by himself, then realized that Benjie was worried about him.

  Alex smiled at his brother. “I’ll do that,” he said.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Alex grabbed his lunch bag, stuffed it in his backpack, and started for the door. “See you tonight,” he called as he dashed for the school bus, which was already rumbling down Elm Lane.

  Benjie’s bus came an hour later in the mornings than Alex’s did. Mrs. Kendrill reminded Benjie, before he got on his own bus, that he was to go to Mrs. Sunburg’s house that afternoon. “Go straight there as soon as you get off the bus,” she said.

  “I will, Mom,” he said.

  But he didn’t.

  8

  The telephone woke Pete from his afternoon nap. It rang until the answering machine clicked on. Whoever was calling did not leave a message.

  Moments later, Pete heard a noise at the front door. He padded into the living room, jumped onto the window ledge, and looked out. A van had backed into the driveway and was parked facing away from the house.

  Pete’s tail thumped against the wall. Was it the same van that Pete had seen at Mary’s house Saturday night? Pete wasn’t sure. It had been a dark night, and he had looked at the burglar and Pearly rather than the vehicle, but he thought this one was the same color.

  “Mrowr?” said Lizzy, who had followed him into the living room. She reached up and batted at Pete’s tail.

  It had been a disappointment to discover that Lizzy could not understand what the people said, nor could she speak any language other than Cat. Pete hoped to teach her English, but so far his efforts had been in vain.

  “Mrowr,” Lizzy repeated, giving Pete’s tail another whack.

  “Not now,” Pete said. He curled his tail around his haunches where the kitten couldn’t reach it. “I’ll play with you later.”

  The noise continued at the door. The bell didn’t ring and nobody knocked, but Pete heard rubbing sounds coming through the keyhole.

  Someone’s picking the lock, he realized. The van does belong to the burglars.

  The front door opened. Two men walked in, leaving the door open behind them.

  Pete sat as still as a stump. He watched the men closely, noticing details of their clothing and looks. Benjie had talked so much about his spy activities that Pete knew exactly what to do. He would be a spy cat. Since the humans were not home, it was up to him to trap the villains. Pete’s whiskers twitched with excitement. Spy cat. He rather liked the sound of that.

  The tall man in the plaid shirt called out, “Hey, Joanie! We’re here!”

  The short one with the beard yelled, “Anybody home?”

  Joanie? thought Pete. Who’s Joanie? Have these men come to the wrong place—or are they pretending to know someone, as a way to make sure that nobody’s home? If someone answered their call, they’d probably apologize and leave in a hurry.

  Lizzy trotted toward the men.

  “Stay away from them,” Pete hissed, but his warning was too late.

  “Get outta here, cat,” said the tall man. He kicked at Lizzy, missing her by only an inch.

  The terrified kitten scuttled under the couch.

  Pete stayed on the window ledge, trying to decide what to do. There was no one to run to for help; he would have to act on his own.

  Maybe I can take something from the truck, Pete thought, an item that would help the police trace the men after they leave. If I could find a piece of mail with a name and address on it, and carry it into the house, it would be a clue for the police to follow.

  “We may not have much time,” the bearded man said.

  “Let’s start upstairs.” The one in the plaid shirt started toward the stairs.

  The bearded man followed.

  When Pete could hear both men moving about overhead, he jumped to the floor, trotted to the door, and went out.

  The rear door of the van was open. Pete leaped inside.

  The back of the van was empty; all the seats except the driver’s and front passenger’s had been removed. Pete smelled dirt, and grease, and newspaper.

  He also smelled french fries and hamburger. Those smells came from the passenger’s seat. Pete stepped into the front of the van and hopped on the seat beside a white paper bag.

  One french fry, he told himself. Just one, to keep my strength up, and then I have to get down to business. He tipped the bag over, then dragged a french fry out of its carton onto the seat. He was eating it when the men shoved something into the back of the van. Pete held still and quit chewing. The men went back in the house.

  Pete peered into the back of the van and saw the Kendrills’ television set. He finished his french fry and began looking for anything that might identify the burglars. There were candy wrappers, an empty chocolate-milk carton, and a few crumpled papers. Pete couldn’t smooth out the papers to see what they were.

  He lay on the floor and stuck his paw under the passenger’s seat. He fished out a receipt from a gas station, but it had been a cash sale. No credit card number and no name.

  He went to the driver’s seat and put his paw under it. He hauled out an aluminum can, an empty cigarette package, and a filthy knit stocking cap.

  The men returned. This time they loaded Alex’s bike into the van. Oh, he won’t like this, Pete thought. Next they carried out the Kendrills’ grandfather clock.

  Pete saw the glove compartment and wondered if the men kept any papers in there. He tried to open it, but he couldn’t release the latch.

  Each time he heard the men coming to the van, he crouched on the floor and waited until they went back inside. Then he kept sniffing on the floor and feeling under the seats.

  Once he jumped on the seat, stood on his hind legs, and pulled the sun visor down, in case the men had stuck something up there that would identify them, but the only thing held up by the visor was a pair of sunglasses, which bonked Pete on the head.

  While he waited for his head to quit throbbing, he took a brief break and ate a few more french fries. Why didn’t cat-food companies ever make a french-fried-potato flavor? Pete was tired of fish and liver.

  He had finished the last french fry when the thieves slid two big boxes into the van. Pete saw that one box contained silverware, the video camera, Alex’s Game Boy, and Mrs. Kendrill’s
portable sewing machine. The other box held the computer keyboard, the VCR, two calculators, and a stack of video movies.

  I have to stop them, Pete thought. I can’t let them steal my family’s favorite things! But what could he do? He was a brave, strong cat, but he was no match for two burly men.

  Maybe if he ate the hamburger, it would clear his mind and give him an idea. Pete pulled the hamburger onto the floor and chewed the wrapper open. He hoped the burglar hadn’t put pickles inside. Catsup was okay because it began with c-a-t, but Pete never could understand why humans spoiled perfectly good meat by adding pickles.

  * * *

  Benjie remembered that he was supposed to go to Mrs. Sunburg’s house after school. He was looking forward to playing tuggy-toy with Rufus again, as he had on the day Mrs. Sunburg and Mary had moved in. Maybe by now Howley Girl was well enough that he could play with her, too. Also, Mrs. Sunburg had said if she had time she would bake some cookies.

  But as he walked past his own driveway on the way to Mrs. Sunburg’s house, Benjie saw a van parked at his house. Mom must have gotten home earlier than she thought she would, and now she had company.

  The van looked like the one that the Kendrills’ carpet had come in when they were building their house. Were Mom and Dad getting carpet for their bedroom? They had said it would be a year or two before they could afford bedroom carpet, but maybe Mom had found a good sale and bought it now. Mom loved buying things on sale. She said getting stuff at half price was almost as good as being rich enough not to care about the price at all.

  Benjie looked again. There wasn’t any lettering on the side of this van. It must be a friend of Mom’s, not a carpet delivery.

  Benjie hesitated. He still wanted to play with Rufus, but it would be fun to meet Mom’s guest, too. Maybe Mom had stopped at the bakery on her way home and bought a chocolate cake. She did that sometimes, for company. She might be serving chocolate cake right now.

  Benjie decided to go home long enough to have a snack. Then he would go visit Mrs. Sunburg and Rufus.

  The last time Benjie had arrived home when Mom had company, he had been scolded later for shouting and banging the door. “Use your indoor voice when we have guests,” Mom had told him. “Close the door quietly and say ‘Hello, I’m glad to meet you’ when you’re introduced.”

  Benjie decided to surprise Mom with his perfect manners. Maybe she’d give him a bigger slice of cake. He angled across the grass and went around the house to the kitchen door, as usual, half expecting that it would be locked. It was not.

  Benjie turned the knob and slipped inside.

  9

  Benjie pulled the kitchen door closed until it clicked. He took off his shoes and left them on the throw rug. Mom didn’t like it when he tracked dirt across the floor.

  Instead of yelling “I’m home!” as he normally would, Benjie tiptoed across the kitchen. He looked for a white bakery box on the countertop, but he didn’t see one. Mom must not have bought a chocolate cake, after all.

  He heard footsteps walking around upstairs. Mom and her friend were up there.

  Benjie decided he might as well take advantage of being alone. Since there wasn’t any cake, he’d eat a few cookies. He could take more when he was by himself than he could if he waited until Mom and her friend came downstairs. Mom always limited him to three.

  He lifted the lid of the cookie jar carefully and helped himself to five oatmeal-raisin cookies. Lizzy ran into the room and got into her cat bed. Benjie petted her while he ate two cookies.

  While he munched the other cookies he walked through the family room and into the living room.

  Benjie stopped. The front door stood wide open. Was Mom’s guest leaving? But he still heard footsteps upstairs.

  Mom would never let the door stay open this way, because of Pete and Lizzy. Pete was always trying to sneak outside, and everyone in the family was careful to keep him in. Mom’s friend must not have closed the door securely when she got here.

  Benjie hurried across the room to close the door. He hoped Pete wasn’t already outside. Lizzy was in her bed, but now that Benjie thought about it, he realized Pete had not greeted him when he first came in. Usually when the family was gone, Pete ran to them and meowed when they returned, as if welcoming them or complaining that he had been left home alone.

  Maybe Pete was upstairs with Mom. When she and her friend came down, Benjie would ask them if Pete was up there.

  When Benjie reached the front door, he saw that the back door of the van was open, too. He looked into the van and gasped as if he’d seen a ghost. With his hand on the doorknob and his mouth open in astonishment, he stepped outside and looked more closely.

  Inside the van he saw the Kendrills’ TV set and their grandfather clock and Alex’s bicycle and two boxes full of other things that belonged to Benjie’s family.

  As Benjie gaped at the van, voices came from the top of the stairs.

  “We’ve got room for one more box,” a man said.

  “Let’s check the kitchen drawers,” a different man replied, “and then we’ll get out of here.”

  With a sickening certainty, Benjie knew that Mom wasn’t upstairs. She didn’t have company. The van belonged to the bad guys.

  Footsteps clattered down the stairs.

  Benjie’s heart hammered so loudly in his chest that he feared the men would hear it. He knew he didn’t have much time to get away. Should he run—or should he try to hide?

  The bad guys were headed for the kitchen. What if they saw Benjie’s shoes on the rug? They might figure out that he was home and come looking for him.

  What if they saw Lizzy asleep in her little cat bed and decided to put her in their box and take her away in the van? Maybe that’s why Pete had not come to greet Benjie. Maybe the bad guys had already shut Pete in a box and put him in the van.

  Fighting back tears, Benjie hesitated on the porch. Brave spies don’t run away, he told himself. I need to stay here and get evidence against the bad guys. I need to make sure they don’t kidnap Lizzy or Pete.

  * * *

  Mrs. Sunburg put the last pan of snickerdoodles in the oven. She remembered that young boys are always hungry when they get home from school, and they like cookies, especially cookies that are fresh out of the oven.

  Mrs. Sunburg felt so fortunate that she and Mary could live in this lovely new house, with plenty of room for her foster animals.

  She was lucky to have neighbors who were friendly, too. When Mrs. Kendrill had come over Saturday afternoon with a loaf of banana bread to welcome her to the neighborhood, Mrs. Sunburg had been overjoyed.

  The women had shared a pot of tea and Mrs. Sunburg had told how helpful Alex and Benjie had been, carrying in all those boxes. She had offered to have the boys visit anytime.

  Mrs. Kendrill and Alex and Rocky had helped enormously after the burglary, too, so Mrs. Sunburg had been pleased to say yes when she’d been asked to watch Benjie for an hour after school today.

  Mrs. Sunburg inhaled the sweet cinnamon-sugar smell of the cookie and decided it wouldn’t hurt her diet too much if she ate one or two with Benjie.

  While the cookies baked she washed the mixing bowl and the measuring cups. Then she set out a glass for Benjie’s milk and started a pot of coffee for herself.

  He should be here any minute.

  Rufus nudged her leg, an old sock in his teeth. The ends dangled downward on both sides of his mouth like a droopy mustache.

  Mary had tied a knot in the sock, and it had become Rufus’s favorite toy. He loved to bite the knot, shaking his head and growling furiously while someone tugged on the two ends of the sock.

  “We’re having company today,” Mrs. Sunburg told Rufus. “Benjie will play with you when he gets here.”

  While the coffee brewed Mrs. Sunburg looked out the window, watching for Benjie to come running up the driveway. She smiled, remembering when her own two boys had been that age. They never walked; they only ran, hopped, jumped, or skipped.<
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  A few minutes later, Mrs. Sunburg’s smile was replaced by a worried frown. He really should have been here by now. Had he forgotten that he was supposed to come to her house?

  Perhaps I should go next door, she thought. But the last pan of cookies still had six minutes to bake, and she didn’t like to leave the house when the oven was turned on.

  She dialed the Kendrills’ number and got an answering machine. She did not leave a message.

  She waited a couple of minutes and dialed again but hung up when the machine clicked on.

  The oven timer rang. Mrs. Sunburg turned the oven off and put the cookies to cool with the others.

  She stepped out to the front porch and listened for the sound of the departing school bus. She heard only the distant drone of a jet plane high overhead.

  The Kendrills didn’t seem like the kind of people who would make arrangements for her to watch their child and then not bother to call when she wasn’t needed. The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became.

  Feeling both disappointed and apprehensive, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sampled a snickerdoodle. She would wait another five minutes. If Benjie still hadn’t come, she would go over there and look for him.

  * * *

  Benjie knew that he couldn’t let the bad guys see him. Mom and Dad and Alex had said the bad guys wouldn’t kidnap anyone, but Benjie wasn’t taking any chances. He decided to hide in the bushes until they left; then he would go in and call 911 before he ran to Mrs. Sunburg’s house.

  With his heart still pounding, Benjie jumped off the side of the porch. He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled behind the laurel bushes that lined the front of his house. He had to lie almost flat because the laurel bushes weren’t very big yet. Mom had planted them last summer.

  I should have gone to Mrs. Sunburg’s house instead of coming home, Benjie thought. Mom told me I was supposed to go there today. She told me she wouldn’t be home.

  Benjie tried to hear what the burglars were saying or doing, but all he heard was a pair of crows cawing in the trees behind his house.