Ali decided to make Gigi lunch before going upstairs to check on her. She scrambled some eggs and made toast, whistling the happy birthday song as she did. The final meal wasn’t perfect, but it was edible, and a liberal dose of pepper made everything tasty. She filled two plates and carried them upstairs on a tray. She paused when she opened the door. Gigi’s bed was empty.
Gigi must have gone to the washroom. She set the tray on Gigi’s dresser and went to check. No Gigi. Had she gone downstairs? There was no Gigi in the living room, the dining room, the study, or the kitchen. She ran back upstairs. No Gigi. She even checked the basement, though she didn’t believe Gigi could have opened the squeaky basement door without her hearing. It was as if her great-grandmother had vanished.
Ali debated calling Digger, but decided to do one more search first, since she knew they were busy and Gigi had to be in the house somewhere. Ali decided to check her room one more time. She heard a noise outside the window. As she leaned out to take a look, her foot nudged against something. She looked down. A small brown sparrow lay on the floor. She picked it up to see if it was all right, then almost dropped it in fright when she realized that a diamond ring was tangled in one of its wings. Gigi’s diamond ring. Then it hit her: she was holding Gigi!
Ali laid the bird on Gigi’s bed and knelt down. She didn’t know much about birds, but she recognized panic when she saw it. The sparrow was in a state. “It’s okay, Gigi. Time to turn back.”
The bird twittered. “I don’t understand you, Gigi. Can you turn back?”
Another squawk, and there Gigi was, lying on her left side, eyes closed. A lone feather poked through the back of her nightgown. At first Ali was afraid she was dead, but then Gigi reached out and clutched Ali’s arm and whispered something indecipherable.
As Ali leaned over to hear better, there was a piercing cry. Ali ran to the window and stuck her head out. Topsy, the neighbor’s cat, had cornered one of Gigi’s squirrels. There was blood.
“Alfie!” Gigi yelled.
Ali glanced back at Gigi, confused. “It’s not Alfie. Topsy’s attacking a squirrel!”
The color drained from Gigi’s face. “Save him, Ali! You have to save him!”
Ali knew Gigi was attached to her critters, but her terror was still a surprise. “I’ll—”
“No! You don’t understand!” cried Gigi. “The squirrel is Alfie!”
Alfie? Ali’s head was a jumble. Alfie was a squirrel? He’d been visiting Gigi? For how long? And then a realization: Alfie was a Copycat too. Ali froze, trying to take it all in. The squirrel squealed again, and Ali sprang into action. Alfie was being attacked. She had to save him!
Ali pulled off her sneaker and threw it at Topsy’s head. The cat didn’t budge. Supper was right there, and she wouldn’t give that up even if it meant a cuff to the head. Alfie the squirrel tried to crawl away, his chitter pitiful when Topsy batted him with a vicious paw. Ali did a quick calculation: taking the stairs and going out the front door would take too much time; Topsy was about to pounce again. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped, trusting she would change into a cat on the way down.
She did.
Ali landed on the grass beside Topsy and hurled herself forward, claws and teeth bared. Startled, the other cat hissed and tried to stand her ground, but Ali’s momentum was an advantage; she knocked Topsy sideways like a bowling pin. Topsy righted herself and yowled, but Ali was in warrior mode. Fur straight up, back arched, she charged forward and swiped a paw across the cat’s face, drawing blood. That was enough for Topsy. She fled home to lick her wounds.
Panting, Ali raced over to Alfie and nudged him with her nose. She expected him to panic and try to escape, but he’d rolled into a whimpering ball, his small heart racing so fast she could see it rise and fall in his tiny squirrel chest. Why didn’t he change back? Was he too hurt?
There was no way she could help him as a cat, so she changed back and scooped Alfie up, cradling him in her arms. Her panic rose with his every chirpy sound of misery. Gigi would know what to do.