“What’s the plan, Tabby Cat?” Alfreeda asked.
“I’ll show you,” I said.
I picked up one of the very smelly, very dead fish out of the weeds. I held it by the tips of my pointer finger and thumb.
“Yuck!” Alfreeda said.
“I’m going to bait Frankie the Fishercat with his favorite smell,” I said.
I held the fish far in front of my face and tried not to breathe.
I started to crawl across the sand, on my stomach. I crept very slowly toward Frankie. Without making a sound, I moved a few inches at a time.
Then I noticed Alfreeda was following me. I almost groaned out loud.
She crawled across the sand behind me. She held a dead fish too, plugging her nose with her free hand.
“Stay back,” I whispered. “You’ll scare Frankie away.”
“It’s double the dead-fish stink,” she whispered back. “He’ll jump at us, trying to get the fish. Then I’ll grab him.”
I wanted to yell, “No! I’m going to save Frankie!” But I didn’t dare yell.
I took a couple deep, quiet breaths and tried hard to calm down. Grandma Kit began to crawl behind Alfreeda. She held a dead fish too.
Quiet as three cats prowling toward prey, we crossed the sand.
When I got close to the water, Frankie raised his head. He turned slowly. He stared at the fish hanging from my fingertips.
Suddenly he leaped at me.
I jumped up and tossed the dead fish over my shoulder. I raised my arms and spread them wide, ready to catch the flying furball.
He flew straight at me, like an orange and brown rocket.
Just then, Alfreeda’s hip bumped mine. I fell sideways and landed in the sand.
“Hey!” I yelled. “You did that on purpose!”
“I’ll get Frankie,” she said, dropping her dead fish. “I caused this problem. I’ll fix it.”
Alfreeda raised her arms high in the air to catch Frankie.