Chapter 15

Calico’s Story

A scrawny ball of fur crawled out of the bag shaking her head as if to rid itself of clinging cobwebs. This cat didn’t look like the cat Tramp knew, but the scent of fish and milk told him otherwise.

“What happened?” he asked her.

“It’s what happens if you don’t get a family,” she said and shook the bag off her back. It was darker now at the base of the pine trees. But he could see two other bags, half buried under leaves and dirt, just like the one Calico crawled out of.

“Do you know what was in these other bags?” he asked.

“I think I know,” she said, swiping at her nose. “Big Bob always said nice things, like ‘It’s my honor to find homes for these unfortunates that find their way into our lives.’ He fed us, took care of what he called ‘safety shots,’ to keep us from getting sick. After you left, things started to change. Big Bob stopped bringing in new animals. We didn’t get our normal meals.” Calico stopped, swiped at her nose again, looked over Tramp’s shoulder as if she was looking for something.

“Nobody was getting a new family. Then Big Bob himself changed. We would hear him arguing with Bobby in the back room and finally the door would slam. We all knew something was strange because after each of those arguments, somebody was gone and we knew they didn’t go out the front door.

“Should I look?” Tramp asked.

“I think we should look,” Calico’s voice trembled. She pulled herself up and walked to the bag closest to her. She pawed at the string and the bag opened allowing a long white feather to float slowly up into the pines.

“It all started with Pauly. He was the first to disappear. Big Bob put him in the back room when he saw a guy in a uniform pull up in the front of the store. He was a policeman and was asking if anybody had tried to sell Bob a cockatoo that danced. Bob said no and the policeman left. The next morning, Pauly was gone. He’s been here and gone. Big Bob wanted Bobby to get rid of Pauly, but Bobby let him go. You open the next one,” she said, backing away.

Tramp pulled at the opening of the bag, shook it carefully. An odor of milk and fish.

“Maybe, maybe,” Calico said quietly.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I had three kittens just after I arrived at

Big Bob’s.”

Calico stopped the story. She curled into a ball like she was going to sleep.

“No you don’t,” Tramp said. “What happened next?”

“Bridget was sold very quickly. That was hard enough. Then Meghan was sold. Finn didn’t sell. He didn’t get a family. Then he disappeared. I stopped eating. Didn’t chase the mice. I never wanted to catch them anyway, just liked the chase. I think they missed my chasing them. Now I know what happened to Finn. Bobby took him here, Pauly too. I knew it as soon as Bobby stepped onto the island. I could smell them. But I figured he was going to do something else.”

Calico slumped to the ground, more exhausted by her story than the ordeal of the last few hours.

All the bags were empty. Calico and Pauly and Finn? Had Bobby saved them? Were they supposed to end up like the dead carp, but Bobby didn’t do that? Had that boy who smelled like rotten eggs done something kind?