KITTENS IN THE CULVERT
After his fright with the yellow cat, Electrum searched the neighborhood checking Dusty’s favorite places. She wouldn’t go near the yard where the dog lurked on the porch. Even the boy had known not to get too close to that beast.
There was no sign of her under the evergreen bush where she liked to lie on the fragrant mulch and watch the birds. The sidewalk in front of the shed was still warm from the afternoon sun, but it was vacant.
He was checking the rafters under a porch roof when he heard the squeal of tires. Dread settled over him like a heavy weight.
Car doors thumped in the distance and he heard a woman’s voice and a child crying. Circling above the houses, he scanned the area. At the end of a deserted street he saw the woods that concealed the gate home. A car was parked at the curb.
There was movement under the trees and he spotted a woman and a little girl under an oak tree. He spiraled down and landed in the top branches. Cautiously he worked his way down the trunk until he stood on a lower limb.
The tree offered bare concealment and gave little comfort against the cold. He hunched his shoulders and huddled into his flight jacket while trying to blend in with the gnarled bark.
On the ground beneath, a woman shoveled dirt into a hole while a young girl stood crying.
“It happened so fast the cat didn’t feel anything, honey,” the woman said.
“They didn’t even stop,” the girl sobbed.
The woman tapped the dirt down firmly. “I don’t think they even knew they hit her.” She put her arm around the girl.
Electrum stood up and took off his hat. With stiff fingers he shook a handful of sparkling dust from the brim. It floated down and caressed the girl’s hand.
She wiped her tears leaving a wet glittering smear on her cheek. Taking her mother’s hand she said, “It’s okay, now. She won’t be cold or hungry anymore.”
“That’s right, dear. She’ll be safe here,” her mother said. “No one will bother her.”
Electrum watched as they walked back to their car. A verse from one of the old scrolls came to his mind and merged with his thoughts of Dusty.
From darkening clouds the lightening flashed
Revealing the mist swirling over the ground
Rumbling thunder wavered and crashed
And then a howl – a mournful sound
Confident, strong, a powerful cat
Emerged from out of the gray
On silent paws, he left no track
And by the nap of the neck, he bore her away.
Then cold and silence, empty and stark
As the damp air tingled with mystery
Then the sun broke through and pierced the dark
Like a cry of victory
New light fell on a fresh earthen mound
At the foot of a great oak tree
Leaves red and gold sprinkled over the ground
And Dusty’s spirit was free
He floated down and hovered over the grave. A sweep of his hat sent pookah dust into the air. The car motor rumbled and the tires crunched over dirt on the asphalt. Its headlights swept over the ground in a wide arch exposing him in a haze of sparkling thought dust.
He darted back into the tree. Peering out from behind a thin twig, he watched the red taillights disappear around the corner. The dust faded and settled in a soft coating on the grave.
Full twilight. It was time to go home and break the news to Silverthorn. Without a cat there was no chance of finding the changeling plant.
A faint mew came from the drainage culvert. He leaned forward and peered at the gray, unpleasant opening. Darker patches inside moved in the cold air currents. He blinked. Were Dusty’s kittens concealed in that place? Winter was just beginning. They would need care.
The girl, he thought, and turned back to the empty street. But it was too late. Even if he knew where they had gone, he couldn’t just fly up and knock on the car window.
Maybe the boy he’d seen running through the garden would be friendly to homeless kittens. He didn’t seem to have any love for dogs. He had entered that old house not far from here. It just might work.
Extending his wings, he stepped off the branch. The air swept past him chilling his wings and making his face tingle. He was getting too old for these outings.
He clambered into a juniper bush closer to the culvert where he was out of the wind and could watch the yawning opening.
An hour passed and there was still no sign of the kittens. Maybe he was mistaken about where the mewing had come from. He shoved his icy fingers into the jacket’s lined pockets. The air held the promise of snow. It was time to head home before he was too stiff to fly.
As he reluctantly worked his way out from among the evergreen needles, two points of light winked in the growing darkness. He stopped. A brown kitten with dark spots stepped from the shadows of the drainage culvert and mewed. A second, smaller head poked out and the two huddled together.
Wind ruffled the smaller kitten’s striped fur sending shivers through his skinny frame. He pressed up against the other kitten for warmth. It braced its legs and shifted to support the extra weight.
They looked hungry. He was sure Dusty had never left them this long before. Vague shadows skittered across the grass. A squirrel bounced across the yard and paused to look their way. Electrum tensed. It chattered, and he could see sharp teeth in the small head. It dashed around the tree into a pile of dry leaves.
The tiger kitten jumped as the wind pushed a candy wrapper along the ground with a rattling noise. Electrum took a handful of sparkling dust and let the wind carry it. It settled on the striped kitten’s head and he sneezed.
Electrum glided to the ground. His form melted into the shape of a gray cat, the one shape he could assume. He’d tried others, but a cat was all he could accomplish.
The leaves rustled as he padded into view. The tiger leaped up and trotted forward. He paused and turned to call to his brother. Electrum led them over the cold sidewalk and across the damp lawn. Their plaintive cries followed him. He looked back. They hesitated. He waited, hoping the thought dust had been strong enough.
The light caught sparkles on the tiger’s paw as he rubbed his ear. He shivered and started forward again. The other kitten followed with protesting cries.
The old two-story house with a sheltered porch came into view. Shutters in need of paint framed the windows. It loomed dark and menacing.
He led the kittens quickly across the yard. As they struggled up the tall steps to the landing, Electrum shimmered back into the form of a small man the color of pine needles. He flew up and rang the doorbell. In the cold air, the kitten’s breath came out in thin puffs that quickly disappeared.
A woman opened the door and the kittens darted into the bush. She pushed open the screen and stepped outside. “Twilight,” she muttered. “Things always happen at twilight.”
Electrum flew over her head. She gasped as sparkles fell on her cheek. He glided through the hallway and ducked under a curio table in a dark corner.
“Who is it?” called a man’s voice.
“Just kids playing pranks.” She shut the door.
Electrum pressed back against the wall as the woman passed. Now he could only hope that the kittens would stay on the porch and wait.