The Spotted Tail

“I need some tea.” Her grandma returned to her desk.

Paxine sipped her soda, checking out the sofas. Both were soft and comfortable.

“I have a report to read and then we can go to lunch,” her grandma said after a long sip of tea.

“Okay.” Paxine stared at the cat picture. She felt like the eyes were following her.

The sound of her grandma flipping fast through a folder changed her focus. She wondered if she was really reading that fast. Speed-reading. She would have to check with her teacher at school or the online library. At least that sounded easier to learn than another language.

Thanks to her grandma, she knew Spanish and Portuguese. Whenever her dad traveled somewhere new, she and her mom got to go along. Now, she loved it when they traveled to hotels where the maids spoke Spanish. She could speak back to them or listen in on their conversations.

Even though the traveling interrupted her schooling, she was still a grade ahead. She inherited her mom’s looks, but her dad’s intelligence. It wasn’t that her mom wasn’t super smart, she was, but her dad was brilliant. He was the best lawyer in the world as far as she was concerned.

“The Child Protection Act. What garbage.” Her grandma drewin a deep breath as if calming herself. “Greta.”

Paxine didn’t notice her grandma push any buttons.

“Yes?” Greta’s voice came out of her grandma’s desk phone.

“Did the customer state what they wanted?”

“Nope. They said to call them as soon as possible.”

“Get them on the phone,” her grandma said, tapping a finger on the desk.

Paxine wondered if Greta had the customer on speed dial. It seemed only a few moments before…

“Here you go,” Greta said, buzzing the call through.

“Good morning. I have your folder and I don’t know what you want done with it.”

“I thought it was obvious,” the woman on the other end said.

“I never assume. Do you want me to champion for or against?”

“Against, of course,” the woman said.

“Just making sure.”

“You will make sure this goes away?” There was now a nervous edge to the woman’s voice.

“Of course.” Her grandma’s voice sounded confident.

“Thank you.”

The call ended.

The quiet of the office settled heavily on Paxine’s ears. The door opened, sounding loud, and the Waterer tiptoed in, and over to a pot of begonias that looked a little wilted. No water poured out of the watering can.

“I don’t think the Waterer is totally fixed,” Paxine said in a quiet voice. “No water. I noticed it in the other room when it watered or tried to water those plants.”

Her grandma nodded but seemed more interested in frowning at the folder on her desk.

“Not something nice?” She wondered what could make her grandma frown like that.

“Horribly not nice. Sometimes the government introduces legislation that should never be…even thought of.”

Her grandma stood abruptly, grabbing her handbag, and cell phone. “Let’s go do lunch.”

Paxine chugged her remaining soda. The only thing better than sitting with her grandma in the park learning to read lips, was having lunch. Her grandma let her order whatever she wanted.

“We’re heading for lunch, Greta,” her grandma said when they passed Greta’s desk.

Greta raised a hand to stop her.

“Wait one moment.” Greta was speaking into the phone. Paxine saw she put the caller on hold. “THE breeder. Are you free later today?”

Her grandma returned two quick nods.

Greta returned to her phone call. “Yes, Mrs. Pondoulee is available. Two P.M.?”

Her grandma nodded again.

“Why, yes, she can make that time. Thank you. Bye.” Greta hung up the phone.

“The Waterer is still broke,” her grandma said while tapping on her phone to add the appointment. “It doesn’t get water. Unless it’s using invisible water.”

“I thought that, too,” Paxine said with a laugh.

“I’ll call Garon. Did you call him?” Greta said.

“Yes. And can you get me a new phone? One that doesn’t bite?”

“The Wood.” Paxine stared at all the plants. It was almost impossible to see the restaurant.

“One of my favorite restaurants.”

“Are those real trees? And are you sure there’s a restaurant in here?” Paxine thought she saw a pair of eyes blink at her from behind a branch.

A smiling hostess appeared between two plants. “Good afternoon. Two?”

“Yes. Can we have that corner over there?” Her grandma pointed to what looked like a wall of leaves.

“Certainly.”

The hostess lead the way between the two plants from where she had come. Beyond the plants was the restaurant.

The corner table, half hidden by a full size tree on one side, two walls, and a narrow opening surrounded by potted plants, was quiet and private.

“I see. No reading lips in here,” Paxine said.

Her grandma chuckled. “You have that right.”

Her grandma raised two fingers. Paxine figured she was informing the waiter and her suspicion was confirmed when the waiter brought a teapot and two cups.

“You’ve had soda today. If your mom gets you back all hyped on sugar, it might be awhile before she lets us visit again.”

“But I like sugar in my tea.”

“Not as much as there is in that soda. Excuse me a moment, I have a few calls to make. And I don’t want my ear bitten off.” Her grandma inserted an earpiece and dialed her cell phone.

Paxine laughed, checking out the menu.

“Gail, it’s me.” Her grandma sat staring up at the tree beside their table while she spoke.

Paxine pretended to be the caller on the other end of the phone as she hid behind the menu, mouthing the words of response, “Hi me. Ha ha.”

“How are you doing?” her grandma said.

“I’m doing well and you?” Paxine thought would be the right response.

“Good,” her grandma said.

Paxine smiled that she seemed to be following the conversation.

“I’m hearing rumors. Something about a Child Protection Act. Is this important?”

Paxine thought that anything her grandma was concerned about was important, so the response would be, “Of course, it’s important, don’t you think?”

“I think so. I need to know who knows what. Can you do some calling for me?”

Of course, the person would do some calling for her, Paxine thought.

“I’ll call the two court judges’ wives and our political representative’s wife.” Her grandma stirred her tea.

Paxine mouthed, “And I’ll take all the rest. Ha ha.”

“Thanks Gail.”

“Oh, no problem,” Paxine mouthed. “We must do lunch some time.”

“I was just thinking we needed one of those. You are down. Thanks. Bye.” Her grandma ended her call.

Paxine giggled behind the menu.

“What’s so funny in the menu?” Her grandma picked up her menu.

“Reubens are always fun.” She wasn’t going to let ler grandma know why she was really giggling.

“Ladies, are you ready to order?” A waiter slipped in between the plants.

Paxine always liked the restaurants where the waiters memorized your order and never wrote it down.

“Reuben. Dressing on the side,” Paxine said.

“Make that two,” her grandma said.

“With fries,” Paxine said, almost forgetting.

“Ditto,” her grandma said.

“Very good.” The waiter took their menus, disappearing into the shrubbery.

“So, lunch with Gail?” Paxine said.

“No, a tea party.” Her grandma resumed keying into her phone.

“Business or pleasure?” Paxine looked up into the tree near their table. There was something up there.

Her grandma smiled. “Business.” She dialed her phone again. “Patricia? This is Sara.”

Paxine didn’t have the menu to hide behind, but thought the other person would say, “Hi, Sara, so nice to hear from you.”

“Yes, Sara Pondoulee.” Her grandma leaned back in her chair annoyed.

This call wasn’t going as planned, Paxine thought.

“I’m hearing rumors, something about a Child Protection Act. What have you heard?”.

Paxine guessed the person would say, “Oh, why the same rumors you are hearing. Right?”

“What rumors?” Her grandma glared up at the tree, looking like she was counting branches.

Paxine stopped playing her game, concentrating on her grandma’s annoyance, and the long pause before her grandma talked again. This Patricia must have been making something up.

“What do you know, Patricia?” Her grandma was done with staring at the tree, tapping an impatient finger on the table and glaring at her tea. The call must have ended. Her grandma stared at the phone before putting it down.

“Who’s Patricia?”

“Apparently, not a team player.” Her grandma took a sip of tea.

A leaf drifted down from the tree.

“There’s a cat up there” Paxine looked up. However, a glance at her grandma told her she was being ignored. Her grandma was back to tapping on her phone.

“Two Reubens, dressing on the side. Anything else, ladies? Enjoy.” Their waiter dashed off without even waiting to get a reply from them.

“Two more calls to make.” However, her grandma took the time to dip a corner of her sandwich into the dressing and take a bite. “Hmmm.”

“Hmmm” Paxine had her own mouth full.

“Okay, now two more calls.” Her grandma licked her fingers.

Paxine found the Reuben was delicious. The bread was lightly toasted and was her favorite multi colored bread with chocolate looking swirls. The filling in between the bread was generous and the dressing was sweet. The sandwich melted in her mouth.

Her grandma called Judge Sampling’s wife. Paxine knew her because her mom and Mrs. Sampling liked to go shopping together and do lunch. The call didn’t get her grandma the information she seemed to be looking for. Neither did the next call to the other judge’s wife, who Paxine didn’t know.

Paxine was dipping fries into the last of her dressing when her grandma put her phone down to focus on her sandwich.

“Why didn’t you get a kitten at the last place?”

Her grandma didn’t respond. Paxine knew, since her grandma seemed busy with her sandwich, she wasn’t going to get an answer.

“Can I go with you this afternoon to see kittens?”

Her grandma nodded, swallowing her mouthful. “I haven’t heard from your mother, so I guess you’re going.”

“Can I play with them this time?”

“No, sorry. Same rules apply, and no asking why.” Her grandma took another bite as if ending the conversation.

However, Paxine couldn’t resist asking.

“Why?”

“This breeder doesn’t call me often, but she always has good kittens,”

They were standing in front of the breeder’s front door. It was exactly two P.M. Her grandma pressed the doorbell. Paxine figured the breeder was waiting for them since she answered the door only moments after the bell rang.

“Hello Mrs. Pondoulee. Come in.” The woman was overly cheerful. She wore a blue housecoat and mangled slippers. A fluffy cat toy was sticking out of one pocket.

“Thank you. I’m so glad to hear you have kittens.”

The living room housed a dozen sleeping cats. Toys littered the floor, but the house was clean. There weren’t any cameras on the walls.

“Oh, it has been a long time since you’ve been calling.” The breeder led them down a hall to a room.

This room also had a screen door that Paxine could see through. She followed her grandma’s rule and stayed outside. The breeder didn’t seem to notice or was politely keeping silent.

“I have two kittens, but only one is of quality. He had been sold, but the people backed out of the deal. The first time that has ever happened with me.” The breeder sounded offended that someone would do that to her.

Paxine took in the room. It wasn’t as colorful as the last breeder’s, but there were toys and cat trees consuming most of the floor space. Litter boxes of varying sizes lined one wall. The room smelled fresh. There weren’t any cameras in this room either or at least any that Paxine could see.

The only cats in the playroom were the two kittens. One was brown and black spotted where the black spots were rosettes on a clear honey background. The other one was half the size of the first and gray or silver or...

“She’s defective.” The breeder dismissed the kitten with a wave of her hand, causing the kitten to dash behind a box. “It’s a recessive gene that results in what we call the blue color – a steel blue or gray. She’s a little shy too and such a tiny girl.” The breeder moved a low stool over.

Her grandma accepted the stool and sat. Paxine had the feeling that she was waiting for the kittens to make the first move. The male approached first, sniffing her grandma’s fingers. Paxine thought he was the most exotic looking kitten she had ever seen. His coat even seemed covered in glitter. The kitten wasn’t interested in fingers for long and proceeding to hunt down the other kitten. He pounced on the tip of her tail, which was poking out from behind a box.

The female kitten fled but did a sharp turn around another toy and attacked him back. In moments, the male was on his back trying to repel her attack, but she was swift. He escaped, dashing off with a hiss. The female kitten sat, smoothing down her ruffled coat.

The breeder rushed over to retrieve the male, but her grandma put up a hand to stop her. Then she lowered her hand and presented it to the female.

Her grandma couldn’t be interested in that kitten was she? Paxine thought the gray kitten was boring and not very pretty when compared to the male.

The female kitten paused only a moment to look at her grandma’s hand, and then ignored it, continuing her grooming. Her grandma let her hand fall, seeming to resign to the fact that neither kitten was what she wanted. Paxine wondered why it was so hard for her grandma to find a kitten she liked.

The female kitten finished her grooming, then skirted around the room, keeping behind toys or stools. A skittish kitten wasn’t any fun, either. So why was her grandma still sitting there?

The kitten disappeared behind a cat tree and Paxine expected her grandma to rise, but she didn’t. Her grandma kept sitting there. Then the kitten reappeared, weaving around another stool before coming up behind her grandma. Her nose tapped her grandma’s hand, sliding underneath until her tail tickled her grandma’s palm. Paxine thought she saw her grandma shiver.

The kitten’s color changed at this angle. She didn’t seem as gray as before. Maybe more silver with a shimmer of tan or peach. There was a sparkle of glitter just like the male kitten. And just in the right light, there were the faint hint of spots.

“Meep.” The kitten’s voice was quiet and musical.

Her grandma looked down, locking eyes with the kitten.

“Tinder.” Her grandma’s voice sounded different. Calm. Peaceful.

The tail tickled her grandma’s palm again.

“I’ll take this one.”

“What? She…she really isn’t a quality animal. I assure you…” The breeder’s voice sounded loud and rough compared to her grandma’s now calm voice.

“Yes, I can see that. Very shy. However, I’m just looking for a cheap pet.” Her grandma kept her eyes on the kitten.

A cheap pet? That didn’t sound like her grandma. Or was her grandma using that to start her negotiation for a low price?

“I really can give you a good deal on the male. He was actually the best of the litter and is show quality.” The breeder seemed set on selling the male to her grandma.

“Yes, he is gorgeous. Way too nice for what I need at the moment.” Her grandma ran her hand down Tinder’s coat.

From where she stood, Paxine thought it looked thick and soft.

“Oh. Uhm, yes.” The breeder seemed hesitant.

Hum, thought Paxine. What do you do when the one and only powerful Mrs. Pondoulee wants a defective kitten?

“I never reveal where I purchase my kittens.” Her grandma seem to be reading the emotions crossing the breeder’s brow.

“Oh, yes. She isn’t really quality.”

“Pet price?”

“Goodness, no. Hardly. Half that. She isn’t…I mean you can’t… because of her coloring, you see.” The breeder wasn’t making any sense.

“I see. Then the price is acceptable.” Her grandma pulled out a cash card from her handbag.

The breeder scanned the card with a small device hanging from a chain around her neck, and entered the amount. A receipt printed out, and the breeder handed it over.

Her grandma opened her handbag, but instead of putting in the receipt, she knelt, putting her handbag on the floor.

“Tinder,” her grandma said, as if calling the kitten.

Tinder approached the handbag, peered inside, and then hopped in. Her grandma closed her handbag to the surprise of both Paxine and the breeder.

“Thank you.” Her grandma looked amused at the breeder’s look of confusion.

“Ready Paxine?” Her grandma joined her in the hall.

They headed toward the front door. The cats in the front room were still sleeping. They left out the front with hardly a cat flicking an ear. Her grandma tossed out the cube and they stepped in.

When the cube door opened, Greta was standing there like a sentry on watch. “Well?”

Again, her single word question felt like a tirade of questions to Paxine.

Her grandma sidestepped around Greta, heading into her office.

“How was your trip to the breeder?” Greta said, being more specific.

“In the bag.” Hher grandma sounded evasive, but Greta broke into a big smile.

“Let’s see,” Greta said.

Her grandma placed her handbag on her desk, unlatching the clasp.

“Oh.” Greta seemed surprised.

How many people put kittens in their handbag, Paxine thought?