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Boo was gone in the morning. I had expected that, but I missed him anyway and wondered whether he would come back. Last night was the best night’s sleep I’d had in a few days, and I had a feeling Boo was a contributing factor.
But a more pressing concern at the moment was that with all the excitement the last few days, I still hadn’t made it to the grocery store and I wanted pancakes for breakfast.
“Don?” I knocked on his door. “You up?”
I heard some shuffling noises, and then Don opened the door. He was dressed, but still looking bleary-eyed. Pre-coffee, then.
“I want pancakes.”
He blinked at me.
“Pancakes. I’m going to get some? Do you want to go?”
He scratched his chest and blinked again. “Yeah. Okay. Where?”
I knew he was asking because he wanted to go somewhere walking distance. He didn’t have a car, and didn’t like my driving. I didn’t blame him. The only thing worse than my driving is my parking. He probably wanted to bring Bridger, too, which meant someplace with a patio. “Onion Creek?”
“Give me a second.” He left the door open, and I watched while he set up the baby sling – I guess I should start calling it the cat sling – and got Bridger settled into it. He tucked one of the catnip toys in there and stuffed his wallet into his pocket.
“What are you going to do when he’s too big for the sling?” I asked as we started walking.
“Even full-grown he won’t be bigger than a baby. But I’ve also been thinking about training him to walk on a leash.”
“You can do that with cats?”
“Yeah. Need to start him young, though. You seem more with it this morning.”
“Finally got a decent night’s sleep.”
“No dreams?”
“One, but Boo woke me up and we cuddled and I didn’t have any more.”
“Boo? The cat? He stayed?”
“Yeah. But I left a window open and he was gone when I woke up this morning.”
“Don’t feed him or he’ll never leave.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You’re totally thinking about feeding him now, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. We had reached the intersection and I pushed the button for the walk signal.
“You said it yourself, he’s not your cat.”
The little man lit up and we started crossing the street.
“Jake...”
“I’m not going to feed him, but I can think about it. It just felt so good having him there.”
“Maybe you should get a cat, then?”
“I’ll think about it.” But I didn’t think that was the answer. Not exactly. I didn’t tell Don I had left the window open, in case Boo came back. I hoped the squirrel didn’t decide to explore the great indoors while I was out, but that didn’t seem like his style.
Don settled at a table on the patio while I went inside to place our orders. When I came back out with our coffee there was a girl leaning over his chair, cooing over Bridger, so I hung back for a minute. When she headed back to her own table and her three giggling friends I rolled my eyes and reclaimed my seat.
“That kitten is a total chick magnet.”
“I can’t afford to date right now, you know that.”
“Geez, when girls see that furry little face and find out he’s only got three legs, they’ll be buying you dinner. Girls love that stuff.”
“Since when are you an expert on women?”
“I’m an observer of the human condition.”
“Yeah? Observe this.” He picked up his coffee mug with his middle finger extended.
“Very classy.”
We were making good headway on our pancakes when a shadow fell across the table. I raised my head and almost choked when I saw Detective Petreski looking down at us.
“Gentlemen,” he drawled as he pulled out a chair and sat, unbuttoning his suit jacket. I caught a glimpse of the shoulder holster he wore, and suppressed a shudder. I hated guns, but for some reason the thought of the leather holster under that stylish jacket was turning my crank.
We sat, looking at him but not saying anything. Don chewed, and I took a sip of coffee. Why was he here? Sitting with us? Bridger chose that moment to stir, sticking his head out and yawning. Detective Petreski looked down at the kitten, and Don broke the silence.
“It’s a pet-friendly patio.”
“I told you yesterday, I’m not going to bust your chops over a kitten. Especially not one with ‘special needs’.”
Was it my imagination, or did he seem a little friendlier today? Maybe he was a cat lover? I looked around, but didn’t see Perez anywhere.
“We need to talk,” he said after a minute.
“About what?” I finally found my voice.
He turned to look at me, and I forced myself to sit still under that bright green gaze.
“A variety of things. First of all, why didn’t you tell us that Thomas Wilton is a classmate of yours?”
“Thomas Wilton?”
“Clarence Wilton’s son. You have a class together. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I didn’t know. I don’t know him. What class?”
“American History.”
“Geez. That’s a huge class, I don’t know everyone in there. That must be why he looked familiar. I couldn’t place him, though. I wasn’t hiding anything, I swear.”
He kept looking at me, and it was on the verge of feeling awkward when he nodded and turned to Don.
“Mister Olson, may I ask how you acquired your feline companion?”
“Huh?”
“He wants to know how you got Bridger.”
“Yes, thank you, I knew what he meant.” Don looked at me for a minute, and I shrugged. The crazy might as well get out there – either Petreski could handle it or not.
“We found him,” Don said.
“Where? And how?”
“The old trestle bridge over the bayou. The bike path. Someone, we think maybe some kids, had put him in a bag and hung it from the bridge. They just...” Don pressed Bridger against his chest. “They just left him there, scared and alone.”
Petreski’s jaw was tight, his lips pressed in a thin line. I wouldn’t want to be one of those kids if Petreski ever caught up with them. “When was this?”
“Tuesday morning.”
“That makes two mornings in a row you made grim discoveries along the bayou.”
“Bridger had a better ending,” I said.
“Yes,” Petreski turned to me. “But what I’m wondering is, what led you to discover the kitten in the first place. Is the bridge a regular walk for you?”
Don and I looked at each other.
“No,” I answered.
“Jake had a dream.”
I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see Petreski’s face when he decided I was some kind of nut case.
“What kind of dream?”
“A bad one,” I answered, not opening my eyes.
“He dreamed he was a werewolf.”
“What is it with you and werewolves?” Petreski asked.
“There’s no such thing as werewolves,” I said, surprising them both into silence.
Don was the first to recover. “Then why...?”
I opened my eyes. “Because joking about something so... out there... was easier than admitting that something really weird was happening. That maybe I really was losing it.”
“You’re not losing it.”
I turned to Petreski. “How can you be so sure?”
“I know what losing it looks like - I see it often enough in my work. I don’t know what is going on, but you’re not losing it.”
“I think he’s a psychic.”
Petreski and I turned to look at Don. “What?” he said, looking back and forth between us.
“Tell me about this dream,” Petreski said, turning back to me.
“Tell him, Jake.”
It’s a hard thing to do, spilling your guts about your special kind of crazy to someone you barely know – especially when you’re attracted to them and want them to think you’re amazing. I had to give him credit, though. He didn’t bat an eye, and he didn’t act like I was a lunatic. He wanted us to show him where we found Bridger, but he let us finish our breakfast first. All in all, he was pretty cool about the whole thing, which didn’t help cure my crush and I’m sure Don despaired for the future state of my heart.
We were standing on the trestle bridge, looking east towards where Wilton had been found. Don had taken Bridger onto the grass to let him stretch his legs and see if he needed to pee. Petreski turned to watch Bridger hop around in the weeds. “That is one very lucky kitten.”
“Don is besotted,” I said, looking along the edge of the bayou to see if there were any birds today.
“Tell me about Wilton.”
“You’ve seen my statement, right?”
“Yeah, but tell me what’s not in your statement. It was another dream, right? Like the one that brought you here?”
I nodded, feeling queasy again as I remembered how I felt coming out of that dream. “Only, like, a hundred times worse.”
“Tell me.”
I told him everything I could remember, even about throwing up. He was silent when I finished, his gaze fixed in the distance.
“Am I in trouble? For not putting this in my statement? I mean, it makes me look crazy, right? Or guilty? Crazy is better, I guess, but –”
He silenced me with a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“It is?”
“Yeah.” He let go of my shoulder and turned back to look out over the bayou again. “I get it. Look, Mr. Hillebrand... Jake?” I nodded. “I have a higher tolerance for... the unusual... than some of my colleagues, but even I might have found it suspicious without some context.”
“Context?”
“Just don’t talk to anyone else about this for now, okay?”
“Okay. Sure.” I turned to see Don walking towards us, Bridger back in his sling with his head sticking out, gaze fixed on Petreski.
“Hey, little guy,” Petreski said, reaching out to scratch Bridger’s head with one finger. Bridger turned to rub his face on it, and Petreski chuckled when Bridger started licking with his tiny pink tongue. “They’re so cute at this age.”
“They’re nice when they’re older, too,” I said, thinking of Boo.
Petreski turned to me and smiled. “Yes. Yes they are. Gentlemen, I need to get going. Are you okay to get home?”
We nodded and he left us there on the bridge. I watched him walk away, admiring the way he moved until Don elbowed me. I really needed to break him of that habit; I was starting to get bruises.
“Ow. What?”
“Stop ogling the detective.”
“I wasn’t ogling,” I lied.
“Come on, let’s head home. Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay.” I let Don lead me home, but I was still thinking about Petreski, and about how, maybe, he didn’t think I was crazy.
❧
I spent most of the afternoon studying. I was kind of stressed out about my history midterm, so Don didn’t ask me to watch Bridger while he went to work. Seriously, he’s a cat, he doesn’t need babysitting. I toyed with the idea of taking my books and laptop over to Ground Up for a while that afternoon, but I remembered what Harry had said about Josh Katz being an afternoon regular and I didn’t want to bump into him.
I managed to put together a sad little bachelor meal from the bits and pieces in my kitchen, then took a long, hot shower. I had left a window open all day, just in case, but it turned out Boo was a more formal kind of cat. A little after nine I heard a scratching sound and a black paw curled under the door, announcing Boo’s presence.
It was ridiculous to be so happy to see a cat – especially someone else’s cat – but I rushed to open the door and scoop him up.
“Boo! You came back!” I buried my face in his neck and he purred like he was happy to see me, too.
I closed and locked the door without putting him down.
“Don’t worry, Boo. The window is open in case you need to leave. Ooh, you smell so good!”
Boo wiggled a little and I put him down on the sofa.
“I’ve got to make it an early night, Boo. Not a lot of time to visit today. I have an exam tomorrow. Yeah, I know, what’s an exam, right? It’s okay, Boo-Boo Kitty.” I reached over to rub his ears. “You don’t need to know.”
“I’m going to fix you a bowl of water, okay? But Don says I’d better not feed you or you’ll never leave. Is that true?” I sighed and leaned over to kiss the top of his silky head. “Because if it’s true I sure would be tempted to try it.”
I put the bowl of water on the floor in the kitchen and started getting ready for bed. Boo watched me from his perch on the back of the sofa until I climbed into bed, and then trotted over to join me.
“So what’s the deal, huh Boo? You don’t like sleeping alone?” I rubbed him until he was stretched out long, and I could feel the vibration of his purring. “That’s cool. Okay, hopefully I’ll get a good night’s sleep again, ’cause I’ve got a big exam tomorrow. Yeah – history, not my best subject. Get this, Boo. Turns out there’s a guy in my class who is the son of a guy who was murdered the other day and... wait for it... I found the body. Yeah, I know. Pretty crazy, huh?”
Boo rolled over and fixed me with his bright green gaze. He was an excellent listener. “I know! I didn’t even realize. I probably never would have known if that handsome detective hadn’t told me. You remember, the one I told you about?”
Boo trilled and head-butted my hand.
“Yeah. I saw him again today. Don’t judge me, Boo, but there’s just something about him that feels like... like it fits. I know, I know, it’s stupid. And Don’s probably right, and I’m going to find out that I’m crushing on a straight guy and get my heart broken again, but there’s no harm in a little daydreaming, right?”
Boo twisted around until he was looking at me upside down. He batted at my chin with one gentle paw, and I pulled him close against my chest. “You’d like him, Boo. He likes cats.”
I was so tired it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. It didn’t take long for the dreams to start, either. It started out like the night before, feeling lonely, sad, and confused. That was bad enough, but this time I was frightened as well, and I felt helpless. I felt like crying, but tried to look around and figure out where I was. It was dark, and everything looked hard and angular, like boxes or cabinets. That was no help. I started to panic, and that was when Boo woke me up, purring and kneading my chest like he had the night before.
I lay there, tangled in the sheets and looking up at the ceiling, with Boo head-butting my cheek, and decided it was time to try something different. I turned to nuzzle Boo and gave him a few strokes. “Thanks, Boo. You’re like, the best cat ever.”
I got up and headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. Boo followed me and took a few dainty laps at his bowl. I downed about half of the glass, pulled a box of matches from the drawer and sat it on the counter next to the glass, then turned to open the freezer. I took out the baggie Miss Nancy had given me, and put that on the counter, too. I turned to look at Boo, who was watching from the floor.
“Miss Nancy said it might help repress the dreams, Boo. I really need a good night’s sleep tonight.” I turned back to look at the bag. “I’ve never even smoked a cigarette, Boo. I’ll probably burn the house down trying to light it.”
Boo yowled at me from the floor. It sounded like he didn’t think this was a good idea, either.
“I’m desperate, Boo.” He yowled again and rubbed up against my leg. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, Boo. You’re about to witness the start of my life of crime, I suppose. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
I looked down. Boo was sitting, straight and tall, looking up at me. He gave me a tiny little mew, and his sharp teeth were a vivid white flash against his black fur.
I frowned, and took one of the joints out of the baggie. I resealed the bag, and put it back in the freezer. I held the hand-rolled cigarette up to my nose and sniffed. “Ew. That smells awful. People smoke this for fun, Boo. I don’t know why.”
I put one end in my mouth and struck one of the wooden matches against the side of the box. So far, so good, I thought as it caught and started to flame. It took a few tries, and two more matches, but I finally got the damn thing lit. I tried inhaling, and coughed at the burning, smoky feeling. “So not fun,” I gasped, reaching for the water and gulping at it.
I gave it a few more tries, but as it hurt and burned less, I started feeling sick to my stomach. “Stay here, Boo. You don’t need to see this.” I staggered to the bathroom and promptly up-chucked into the toilet. I stood there, bent over and spitting, and realized I was still holding the joint. I tossed it in after my dinner and flushed the whole lot away.
I rinsed my mouth and brushed my teeth, and turned to see Boo watching me from the doorway. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a stoner, Boo.” He squinted his eyes at me, which I had learned was a good thing, and meowed. I guess he approved. “Let’s go back to bed. I’ll just have to hope for the best.”
For whatever reason the rest of my night was uneventful, and just like the day before, Boo was gone when I woke up. Fortunately I was feeling no ill effects from my smoking attempt, other than being hungrier than usual because I’d lost my dinner. I decided that my good night’s sleep was down to Boo being there, because nothing that made me feel as wretched as smoking that joint could possibly have a positive effect. I’d give the other one back to Miss Nancy the next time I visited her.
