Chapter 12

DING!

Stick Cat could smell the aroma of freshly made bread in the air. Mrs. O’Mahoney was baking. And when Mrs. O’Mahoney baked, she always wore her apron.

They sprinted to the window, but Stick Cat already knew what they would find.

There was no apron on the line.

Far across the alley, Stick Cat could see Mrs. O’Mahoney in the kitchen window. She had just taken a sheet of four freshly baked bread loaves out of the oven. After she pushed another tray of four doughy loaves into the oven to bake, she left the kitchen.

And as Stick Cat had guessed, Mrs. O’Mahoney was wearing the apron.

“Excellent!” Edith said, recognizing the dilemma.

“What’s excellent?!” Stick Cat asked. “The apron’s gone!”

“We can go back to my idea about grabbing two pigeons by the legs and flying across,” Edith explained. “I’ve always liked that idea.”

“Okay, sure,” Stick Cat replied, and began to reel the clothespin bag over to their side as fast as he could. He glanced toward Mr. Music at the piano. He still stood there, of course. His eyes were closed and his head rested against his shoulder. He looked incredibly tired, but also relieved to know that help was on the way. Stick Cat took comfort in that—and refocused his concentration.

He knew there was no choice—and no time: they would have to use the clothespin bag hanging on the line. It was much smaller than the apron pocket and full of clothespins. He concentrated on reeling it across. To Edith he said, “Let me know when you see two pigeons flying close enough to jump out and grab.”

“I’m on it,” Edith said, and got into her ready-to-leap position on the ledge. She snapped her head back and forth to look for incoming pigeons.

It took only a moment for Stick Cat to reel the bag halfway across.

“No pigeons,” Edith said to update Stick Cat.

“Keep looking,” Stick Cat said as he retrieved the bag the rest of the way. As soon as he did, he began to empty out all the clothespins. He had to make room in the bag for them to get across. The bag was filled all the way to the top. He piled as many clothespins as he could on the ledge, but there wasn’t much room—and he had to be careful. He didn’t want any of them to drop down to the street. He knew if one fell from twenty-three floors up, it might hurt somebody on the sidewalk. He also knew it might draw attention to them—and he certainly didn’t want that.

“No pigeons,” Edith said, providing another update.

“Keep looking,” Stick Cat repeated.

When he ran out of room on the window ledge, Stick Cat began to clasp the remaining clothespins to himself. They pinched his skin, but not too badly. And he was truly in too big of a hurry to care anyway.

Edith, of course, was unaware of any of this. She was far too busy scanning the area for incoming pigeons.

Stick Cat removed the final clothespin and clasped it onto one of his ears.

Edith said, “No pigeons.”

“Forget it,” Stick Cat said loudly enough to get her attention.

She turned to him and opened her eyes wide at the sight. She stared at him and backed away as far as she could on the ledge. With fear in her voice, Edith asked, “Did the clothespins attack you?”

“No,” Stick Cat explained quickly. “I had to put them somewhere to make room in the bag.”

Edith relaxed immediately and said, “You look ridiculous.”

“I’m sure I do. But I have a question for you,” he said, and smiled. “Do you want to go for another ride?”

Edith didn’t take the time to answer. She leaped from the ledge and into the clothespin bag. This time Stick Cat didn’t protest at how quickly—and how dangerously—Edith jumped into the bag. He knew there was very little time.

It was far less roomy than the apron pocket, and Stick Cat could tell immediately there would not be space for them both. Mr. Music’s coworker was bound to get to the twenty-third floor soon. Stick Cat had to move fast.

As he yanked and reeled the line with his paws to begin Edith’s journey across, he shouted instructions to her.

“When you get over there, I’ll reel the bag back,” he called. There was true desperation in his voice. “When I get into the bag, you reel me across, okay?”

“Okay, sure,” Edith said in a way that kind of made you think she was distracted. Then the clothespin bag started to sway back and forth on the line and she yelled, “Wa-hoo!”

Stick Cat’s arms and paws never worked so fast as they did getting Edith across that alley. As soon as the bag bumped against Mrs. O’Mahoney’s ledge, Edith jumped out. And when Stick Cat saw that she had firm footing, he pulled the bag back as fast as he could. His arms started to throb and hurt, but he kept churning them over and over.

When the bag was about halfway back, Stick Cat heard a sound.

It was a single sound.

Ding!

He had heard that sound many times before from Goose’s apartment. It seemed to come from out in the hallway of their apartment building. But this time it came from inside the piano factory.

You probably know what it was, right?

It was an elevator getting ready to open.

But Stick Cat had never seen an elevator before. He probably rode one once when Goose brought him home as a kitten, but he didn’t remember that at all.

So think about this: if you didn’t know what an elevator was and then suddenly you heard that sound—ding!—and a wall opened up and somebody stepped out of the wall, it would be pretty strange, right? And maybe even a little bit scary, right?

That’s exactly what happened to Stick Cat. There was the ding! sound. The wall opened up. And Tony, Mr. Music’s friend and coworker from the piano store, stepped out.

Stick Cat found it all very, very scary. He turned on the ledge, and saw that the empty bag was still four or five feet away.

He aimed for the opening at the top of the bag. He pushed off with both back feet and flew through the air.

Stick Cat missed his target.