The Spotted Tail

“There is more to Tails than just feeding. He needs brushing once a week or more often if you like. I am sure he would like that.” Her grandma settled in a chair in the sun.

Even though they were still on the subject of cats and Tache, Paxine felt like her grandma had changed the subject.

“Yeah, I know that.” She rolled her eyes, wondering why no one gave her any credit. “I’ve read all the cat care books.”

“Take the harness off and take a look in here.” Her grandma handed her a small leather case. The case contained a brush, a nail clipper, and a small jar.

Her grandma pulled out her own kit. Tinder hopped up, looking at the brush with expectation. Her grandma brushed Tinder who rolled and turned so the brush reached everywhere. Tinder paused longer to get her chin and cheeks brushed, obviously her favorite part of brushing.

“Next, you want to make sure their nails are clipped,” her grandma said, changing from the brush to the clippers.

“How is he going to protect me with trimmed claws?”

“Don’t worry, even trimmed claws can do damage,” her grandma said, working through Tinder’s claws and clipping any that were too long and pointy. “Pointy claws can snag and I don’t think your mom wants claws snagging on her furniture.”

“What’s in the jar? What’s it for?” Paxine felt irked that she didn’t know what that was. Okay, maybe she didn’t know everything about cats, er Tails, but what more was there?

“Hairballs ointment. Tails get them occasionally. Just dab a little on the paw at night if Tache seems to be doing too much hacking,” her grandma said.

Paxine laughed. “Hairballs.” She thought that was a funny word.

“Okay. Your turn,” her grandma said, putting away her kit.

Paxine tapped her lap for Tache, feeling a shiver of excitement when he hopped up. His harness came off easier than putting it on him. He rolled and curled as she brushed to help her get to all the spots, almost falling off her lap. Then, she checked his claws. Her grandma leaned over, showing her where to clip.

“Don’t clip too close. It would be like nipping your fingertip and it can hurt,” her grandma said.

“Is that it?” Paxine was thinking there couldn’t be anything else she needed to learn.

“Now you need to learn to talk to Tache.”

“Talk?” Paxine imagined Tache speaking words.

“Communicate is a better word. There are hand exercises you need to learn.”

“Oh yeah, hand signals.” That was cool, she thought, remembering her grandma’s last training session with Tinder.

“These are silent commands to your Tail. Tache has already been with the trainer and has a good start, but now you need to learn and learn with him. The hand signals also carry over to other people, so if they are pointing at something, Tache can notice that and check it out. As you will learn, your Tail will understand you better than anyone else.”

Everything her grandma said made sense to her as if talking to cats was an everyday occurrence. Paxine watched while Tinder performed perfect demonstrations. Her grandma’s hand-signals look so natural that it was difficult to tell that she was signaling Tinder.

Paxine waved a hand at Tache. He twirled around toward the direction she waved.

“He did it.” She was excited he obeyed until he dashed off to chase a butterfly.

She tried another hand signal, delighted when Tache responded, but only for a moment when he took off after a leaf blowing across the patio.

“While some of that behavior isn’t good, it’s not something I want to totally discourage. Tails need to investigate and that’s what he’s doing, but he also needs to focus on the tasks at hand. He will gain focus when he grows older,” her grandma said.

Paxine practiced all the signals, surprised to find she could be patient whenever Tache was distracted. Then he plopped onto a chair in the sun.

“Now I think that signal is very obvious,” her grandma said with a laugh. “Tache is tired. I think it’s time for lunch.”

Tinder already napped on her own chair in the sun.

Her grandma led her back into the house. Paxine remembered not to skip, but felt like it. Marietta already had a lunch set out for them.

“That was an excellent start. You should practice those exercises. Next time we get together, we’ll learn the reverse. Tache is going to teach you his signals.” Her grandma handed her a sandwich and ice tea.

“His signals?” Paxine said taking the sandwich and tea.

“Yes, tail, ears, whiskers, meows. Those are all signals.”

“Cool.”

Her grandma’s phone buzzed. “I’ll be right back.” Her grandma walked away to answer the phone.

Paxine finished her sandwich, then wandered out to the patio. Tache was still sprawled in the sun. His coat glittered even more, and he looked so spectacular. She knelt to stroke his fur, and could feel the energy between them.

A breeze rustled the leaves above her. She expected to see a cat, but there was none.

Paxine ran through the hand exercises on her own, committing them to memory, even though she knew these were easy exercises. She knew these were the basics and important to build upon. Training sessions were going to be fun, she thought, knowing they were going to get tougher. At least, she hoped so.

“Still napping?” her grandma said, referring to Tache and Tinder.

“Yes, I guess they must be solar powered like the Waterer,” Paxine said with a laugh. “Will I still see cats?”

“There are cats in front of you.”

“No, I mean, where I’m in danger,” Paxine said, hoping her grandma wasn’t going to change the subject.

“Tache will always be with you,” her grandma said.

“But…”

“Paxine, you will always have a Tail. Tache will be with you all the time.” Her grandma spoke each word clearly.

“But when I go to school…”

“Tache will be there.”

Paxine felt the word “Oh,” form on her lips. “Like you take Tinder everywhere, I will take Tache everywhere. Everywhere.”

“Exactly.” Her grandma smiled.

“But my dad…”

“He doesn’t have a say in the matter. Tache will go with you everywhere, and your mother knows this.”

“Wow. My Tail Guard.”

“Forever,” her grandma said.

Paxine felt overwhelmed with Tache, but knew her father wasn’t too keen with him. Back at home, she thought everything was going smoothly, until...

“Paxine.” Her dad’s voice carried through the house.

Paxine dropped the book she was reading, noting her dad’s tone of voice and how he called her “Paxine” instead of “Paxy.”

What was Tache doing now?

Her dad stood in the living room with his hands on his hips. Tache sat on a small shelf halfway up the wall. Next to him, dangerously close to his twitching tail, was a blue glass vase.

“Tache.” Paxine tapped a chair. He leapt to the floor.

“Well?” her dad said as if expecting more.

“He was just investigating,” she said, knowing telling her dad that was Tache’s job wasn’t a good idea.

“Teach him to stay off the shelf. Keep him out of my office.” Her dad stormed off into his study. She could hear him slamming shut drawers.

“Tache, why do you always have to open drawers? You know there isn’t anything in there you need to check out.”

Tache’s tail smacked the floor, looking like he was planning more trouble.

“If you would just close them, dad would never know,” she said, but Tache seemed to have lost interest in their discussion and was eyeing the vase again. “Please stay away from the vase.”

He yawned.

“Mom,” she said with a moan when her mom entered the living room.

“Paxine,” her mom said, mimicking her.

Paxine rolled her eyes.

“What did your grandma say,” her mom said, “about Tache not behaving?”

“She said he’s not misbehaving. Can I go to grandma’s?”

“You’ve been over there almost every day this week. So opening drawers is not misbehaving?”

“No. Grandma said that dad is the one with the problem, not Tache. Tache is supposed to investigate things. It’s his job,” she said with a groan, thinking that everything Tache learned he was supposed to do he did in a way that irritated her dad. She couldn’t understand how this was her dad’s problem when she was the one who got the worst of it.

“You do need to teach Tache what he can and can’t do.” Her mom headed to the kitchen.

“Mom, I am,” she said, following and flopping onto a kitchen chair.

“Then teach him to shut drawers.” Her mom stirred a pot on the stove before putting a lid on the steaming contents. “Dinner is ready. Put Tache upstairs. Your dad doesn’t like him in the kitchen.”

Paxine stormed up to her room, followed by Tache. He, of course, followed her everywhere. She shut him in her room knowing he wasn’t happy and that he was opening every single drawer in her room.

She shoveled in dinner and, as soon as she could, headed back upstairs. “I’ve got homework,” she said as an excuse.

Paxine closed all her drawers and sprawled on her bed with her books. Tache sat with his back to her, seeming to pout. His tail lashed back and forth, sometimes smacking her, other times, whipping away her pen with uncanny accuracy.

She went to bed feeling that the whole world was against her. Sleep was slow to come and when she did, she fell right into the weirdest dream.

Paxine padded across the carpet on four feet, passing underneath the dining room table.

Tap.

Her ears tilted forward to catch every vibration and magnify it to such a degree that it pushed her to a stop at the edge of the carpet. Every nerve tingled.

The tiled foyer divided the dining room from the living room, and contained the staircase to the bedrooms. She placed each foot with care and padded past the staircase to the edge of the living room.

There wasn’t a single light on in the house or in the yard, yet the living room furniture stood out, as if it was day instead of night. The sofa, in the middle of the room, guarded a paper wad beneath it. A quiver of excitement trickled down her spine. She felt overwhelmed with the desire to capture the paper wad away from the sofa.

Whack.

She flinched. Her tail, having a mind of its own, twitching against the wall. Tail? It was a brown and black spotted tail. That was odd. She didn’t remember having a tail. She must be dreaming. The only one who had a spotted tail was Tache. He liked paper wads. She was dreaming.

Her tail twitched again, interrupting her thoughts about her dream.

Tap.

A double door at the opposite end of the room led to the garden patio.

Click.

The door handle turned. She padded toward the sofa. The door opened. A man, carrying a gun and wearing black clothing, stepped in. Night vision goggles covered his face.

The idea to trip the man floated through her mind. Before she could think any more about the idea, she dashed around the sofa. The man’s foot collided with her side.

Paxine bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. Her hand flew to her ribs. The dim glow of her clock was the only light in her room. She could just make out her dresser and the walls plastered with posters of virtual reality games. With one deep breath, she relaxed. It was just a dream.

The muffled sound of the sofa sliding across the living room carpet drifted up to her.

She felt herself dash around the sofa to keep out of sight of the man. Her tail almost hit the sofa with frustration. She intended to trip the man into the end table. That would have created more of a racket.

Paxine wasn’t dreaming. Tache was keeping her apprised of what was happening in the living room. She was seeing and hearing through his eyes and ears. She slipped her legs out of bed as Tache’s eyes followed the man checking the room. Urgency flowed through her, no, through Tache. He jumped onto a chair and then onto a shelf. The vase. No, not the vase.

Paxine jumped out of bed at the same moment she felt Tache’s tail hit the vase.

Crash.

She grabbed her robe only to freeze when she heard her dad stir, getting out of bed, crossing the bedroom, then racing past her door. Her dad was carrying a gun. Paxine dashed out after him, fearing the worse. He hadn’t seen what she had.

“Paxine.” Her mom’s urgent whisper stopped her in midstride.

Paxine stood frozen. Her mom was urging her to come. Her dad was nearing the top of the stairs. The gun was rising into firing position. Panic caught in her throat. She could still see through Tache’s eyes and he was heading up the stairs.

Another blow hit his side, and her hands flew to feel her own ribs.

Thud. Something landed hard on the staircase.

Crack. Something metallic smacked against the stair railing.

Her dad fired. Boom.

A scream formed on her lips. Her heart took one long beat then Tache flew into view. She exhaled and the scream died. Her dad had fired over Tache’s head.

“To the cube,” her dad said.

Her mom waved her toward the closet on their end of the hall. The closet could just fit three people.

Paxine raced to the closet, but before she could turn to look for Tache, warm soft fur slid into her legs. She tried to bend to pick him up, but her dad pushed his way into the closet bumping her mom against her.

Slam. The door shut. Her dad put his hand on the wall and a second door slid shut. There was the dull metallic whirl of locks. The cube moved.

Paxine edged into a corner so she had the room to pick up Tache. Her ribs echoed his pain.

Her dad, breathing heavily, sighed with relief. “You okay? Paxy? Dalia?”

Paxine nodded, as did her mom. She leaned against her mom. Her dad shifted the gun to his other hand so he could put an arm around them both. The cube left the confines of the closet and expanded to give them more room, however they continued to lean into each other. The closeness was comforting.

Paxine wondered if her dad had hit any of the intruders. The last thing she saw through Tache’s eyes was another man joining up with the first at the base of the stairs.

Tache shifted in her arms to ease his aching ribs. He butted against her to show her he was okay. She smiled, reciprocating the butt. Relief floated through her. He was with her and he was safe.

The cube shifted. Her dad was staring at Tache. Paxine knew, even if her dad never told her, that he had grabbed the gun to shoot Tache. Her dad knew, at the sound of the vase shattering, that Tache was responsible. However, she was sure he was as surprised as she was to find intruders in the house.

Her dad shifted his gaze to the door. There was a quiet ding when the cube announced its arrival. He placed his hand on the door and the locks whirled, then the door slid open.

The area outside looked like a desert. It was warm, but the ground was hard baked clay with a few loose pebbles here and there instead of sand. The pebbles poked Paxine through her slippers.

Her dad put his palm against the cube door. The cube shrank, rising up into the air. He caught it with ease, slipping it into his pocket.

“It’s not a far walk,” her dad said, trying to sound encouraging.

“How did they find us?” Her mom’s voice was dry and hoarse.

Her dad seemed absorbed in his own thoughts and didn’t answer.

Her mom cleared her throat. “How did they find us?”

“I don’t know.” The tone of his voice discouraged further questions.

“I really liked that house,” her mom said to no one, frowning and tugging on her robe.

The area through which they walked was empty. There was nothing in sight. Even the sun was below the horizon and the only light was the pre-dawn glow. There was nothing but pebbles littering the ground. Paxine picked up a few. The ground was so flat and smooth; she figured the pebbles would skip across the ground like water. A tail whacked her as if Tache was warning her against that idea, so she picked out two colorful ones, and dropped the rest.

“Where are we?” she said, slipping the pebbles into her robe pocket.

“Emergency exit,” her dad said, using the same discouraging tone.

Paxine repositioned Tache in her arms and pretended they were lost in the desert. Her feet shuffled over the pebbles as if he weighed a hundred pounds and she had walked a hundred miles. Tache yawned and twitched his tail. He wasn’t playing the game.

She sighed, checking the horizon again. They were heading toward a dark blob. Her game forgotten, she moved faster, curious about what could be out here. Her dad didn’t seem concerned nor did her mom. She figured they knew what it was.

The light increased while they drew closer. The blob became…a man sitting at a desk. Paxine blinked twice. The man was wearing a dark suit. This wasn’t what she expected. It was already warm and once the sun came up it was going to be very hot, especially for someone wearing a dark suit. She wondered if the suit had air conditioning.