The Spotted Tail

“Here we are. The kitten room,” the breeder said.

The room was bright and sunny. Each wall sported a different color with paw-prints stenciled up and down the walls.

“Here’s a stool.”

The woman pointed out one of the short stools that littered the room amidst the toys. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare.

“Thank you.” Her grandma shut the door in her face.

“Oh, she can come in,” the breeder said.

Paxine didn’t understand her grandma’s first rule. She wasn’t to go into the room with the kittens. At least the door was a screen door which allowed her to see into the room.

Her grandma chose a bright yellow stool, ignoring the breeder. Her handbag emitted two low beeps, causing six kittens to turn in unison and converge upon the bag. Paxine thought with regret that they would be leaving now. Her grandma always responded to her phone.

One kitten climbed half way up her grandma’s leg.

“Good think I wore the right clothes” Her grandma surprised her by ignoring the phone.

“Oh, he’s so cute.” Paxine wished she was in the room.

“She,” the breeder said. “That’s a girl. There are three boys and three girls.”

Two kittens tumbled over her grandma’s shoes, rolling into a tangle of legs and tails. Her grandma watched them with a serious face.

Paxine wanted to ooh and aah. How could her grandma be so serious? Why a normal person might have clapped in delight or joy; or perhaps, giggled or laughed at the kittens’ antics. Not staring seriously at them as if there was something wrong with them. What could be wrong with kittens?

Crinkle. Six sets of ears turned toward her grandma, who let go a wad of paper with a flick of her finger. It skipped across the floor. Six tails scampered in pursuit. Two kittens tripped over a ball, then chased it as it careened across the room. Another abandoned the chase, scampering back to her grandma. Her grandma’s handbag beeped twice again and the kitten pounced.

Rosettes, warm and brown outlined in black, covered the main body of the kitten. Black stripes marked the legs. Black and brown marbling covered the kitten’s shoulders and black lightning bolts splashed across its cheeks. The kitten had round eyes, small rounded ears, and a fat medium-length tail, just like…

“Is that the mom?” Paxine spied a larger cat sitting up on a cat tree, staring at her grandma and the kitten.

“Yes, that is the mother, Emma. She’s called a Queen.”

Her grandma rescued her handbag by picking up the kitten.

Emma, who seemed aloof, flinched when Paxine’s grandma handled the kitten, but seemed to disguise her concern with a stretch and a yawn.

“I can hear it purring from here.” Paxine wished all the more that she could be in the room with the kittens.

Her grandma didn’t seem pleased with the purring.

“Emma is an excellent mother,” the breeder said, moving over to pet Emma.

Her grandma didn’t even seem pleased with how the kitten looked. Paxine thought it was the most beautiful kitten she had ever seen.

Another kitten dashed by and her grandma released the first kitten, catching the second, not even raising from her stool, as if she did this all day, every day.

Her grandma’s phone beeped three times again, causing her to look annoyed, tightening her grip on the kitten.

Mew.

“Sorry little boy.” Her grandma loosened her grip.

“He has a smiley face pattern on his side.” Paxine pointed, but realized no one was looking her way.

“Hum, yes.” Her grandma showed no amusement. In fact, her grandma wasn’t really showing any emotion other than an occasional frown.

“Kittens are handled daily. That little guy is the most easy going of the group. What sort of personality are you looking for?” the breeder said.

Her grandma didn’t answer. What was her grandma looking for?

The kitten with the paper wad dashed past and her grandma again dropped, grabbed, and exchanged kittens in one fluid motion.

Growl.

“He’s not going to give up that paper wad.” Paxine laughed.

Her grandma checked his ears and the kitten mistook her action, growling and swatting at her hand. Paxine wondered why the kitten wasn’t squirming to free himself.

Whack.

The kitten’s tail smacked her grandma’s arm. She released him back onto the floor, but she smiled.

“Well?” The breeder’s voice startled her. Paxine noted some nervousness in the woman’s voice. Or was it more like a worried mother like the queen?

Her grandma let out a sigh as if disappointed in the litter of kittens.

“Emma Tea Gold is my best Queen. All her previous litters have been quite successful.” The breeder turned back to Emma, scratching her behind the ears. “Although, my stud is a Supreme Grand Champion.” There was a hint of pride in her voice.

“Hum.” Her grandma didn’t sound impressed.

The kitten with the paper wad gained the top of a stool, lashing his tail and slapping his paws at two littermates who were pursuing him.

“There is something wrong with that one’s tail.” Her grandma was watching it closely.

“Normal defensive behavior.” The breeder wrung her hands together.

“Is this the only litter you have?” Her grandma stood. Her slender body seemed to tower over the shorter round form of the breeder. Was she trying to intimidate the breeder?

“I-I am expecting more next month. A couple of weeks, actually.” The breeder looked even more nervous.

“No, I need one in training now.” Her grandma moved over to the door.

“Training? These are some of my best kittens. One of these won’t do?” The breeder stared at the kittens as if trying to figure out what was wrong with them.

Paxine couldn’t tell what was wrong with them either. Why was her grandma so fussy?

“Paxine?” her grandma said in a quiet, but forceful voice. “Can you go stand by the front door?”

Rule number two. Whatever her grandma told her to do; she was supposed to do it with no questions asked.

A cat brushed past her, going the opposite way down the hall.

“Hi to you too,” Paxine said to the cat while she obeyed her grandma.

The cat flicked its tail at her as her grandma’s voice just reached her.

“Well maybe that one might do.”

Her grandma was going to get one anyway. Which one? Certainly not the whacky tail one. Although Paxine thought he would be the most fun, maybe for her, but not her grandma. Why couldn’t she have one? She had to peek to see which one.

Her grandma’s dramatic sigh reached her when she was half way back down the hall. Negotiation time, Paxine thought. Her grandma was now going to look over that kitten as if expecting to find a fifth leg or a third ear, to reduce the price. Her grandma was good at negotiations.

“Oh, dear.” The breeder was just visible by the door. She was wringing her hands. “That one is taken.”

No negotiations after all, Paxine thought, moving to where she could see into the room. Maybe she could visit the kittens now.

“You didn’t say any of these kittens were taken. I thought I was only seeing those kittens available.” Her grandma didn’t sound very happy. She dropped the kitten she was holding. It scampered off, unconcerned about its dramatic dismount. Paxine couldn’t tell which one it was. The breeder blocked her view.

“There is another male. He is just as perfect as that one.”

One of the boys. Which boy? There were three of them.

Her grandma’s phone beeped three times again. Was that her grandma’s phone trying to crawl out of her handbag? Her grandma clutched her handbag, forcing whatever it was back down into the bag.

“I’m afraid a kitten isn’t just a kitten. Well, since you don’t have any that I really like…” Her grandma headed toward the door, causing Paxine to duck back.

“Oh, let me check to make sure.” The breeder hurried out of the room looking to be in a panic.

Paxine froze when the woman brushed past her as if she was invisible.

Her grandma sat again on her stool, looking bored. Paxine wondered if this was a ploy. The breeder was a professional who didn’t make mistakes, only made you spend more time with the kittens just in case one grabbed your heartstrings.

The kitten with the paper wad dashed past to one of the cat trees. The cat tree provided a path for the kitten to climb up and hop over onto a small dresser. On top of the dresser was a small cat-shaped box with drawers. The kitten pawed open one drawer, dropping in the paper wad. He left the drawer open, climbing down to rejoin his littermates.

The breeder brushed past Paxine, startling her again.

“Oh, goodness, I was wrong. Thank goodness. It is the other male that’s taken. The one with the bigger spots.” The breeder looked relieved. She had a handful of papers with her.

Paxine’s heart skipped a beat. Her grandma had seen her. She backed down the hall, hoping her grandma wasn’t going to be mad.

“The usual pet price?” Her grandma’s voice just reaching her.

Paxine reached the front door. She heard the breeder answer, but her voice was but a mumble. She felt some excitement that her grandma was getting a kitten. Would she get to play with it?

Paxine stiffened at the sight of a security camera aimed at the front door. Security for kittens?

“Do you have a name picked out yet?” The breeder was following her grandma down the hall toward the front door.

Her grandma wasn’t carrying a kitten. Where was it? In her handbag? Or didn’t she get one? So what happened? Price not right?

“Please, let me know when you have another litter. It is impossible to find good kittens these days. Thank you.”

Paxine pretended she had been at the door the whole time, being bored. She yawned.

“Done?” She knew her voice sounded too sweet. It was hard to fool her grandma.

“All done.” Her grandma revealed nothing in her expression and said nothing while they walked to the end of the breeder’s driveway where her grandma tossed out her cube.

Her grandma’s phone beeped three times again, and managed to crawl out of her handbag.

“Why is my phone trying to bite me,” her grandma said in a loud voice when the cube door opened, revealing an office area.

Her grandma’s office, Paxine thought.

A woman rose from behind the front desk. Paxine knew this had to be Greta. She had the largest brown eyes that Paxine had ever seen. Then Greta moved from around the desk, fluttering her hands gracefully as she tiptoed like a dancer across the room.

“Good selection?” Greta danced around the Waterer as it tiptoed toward the plants by the picture window. The window looked out at the park where they had been earlier. The pink watering can hung from one leg. “Oh, and Garon fixed the Waterer. However, he does need to talk to you.”

“I take it he is the one sic’ing my phone on me. Ouch. It bit me again.”

“Well?” Greta’s single question sounded like a dozen from the tone of her voice.

“Oh, sorry. Greta, this is Paxine. I forgot she has never been here. Long overdue,” her grandma said, making the introductions.

“Welcome Paxine. Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“Yes, please.”

“Sorry, dear. I need to take the call before this phone bites me again,” her grandma said.

Paxine giggled behind her hand, watching her grandma head for a large door that opened when she approached.

“Well?” Greta said again, raising an eyebrow.

Her grandma shrugged a shoulder but Greta smiled as if she had gotten her answer.

Paxine wondered what Greta’s real question was and what was her grandma’s answer? Whatever it was, Greta seemed happy about it, dancing around her desk, disappearing behind a wall.

Paxine wondered, while she checked out the waiting room, if she would ever break into this adult secret language. There were chairs, a sofa, and a coffee table near the windows. Paintings of trees covered the walls, which were a pale green. There were no magazines. She had the feeling few people ever used this area.

There were four security cameras, each on different walls. She could tell they were fake, to fool people. But knowing her grandma, that meant there were other cameras but they were in disguise. So where were they?

The Waterer whisked out a leg with a duster as it passed the coffee table. The duster, held just at the right level, dusted the table as the Waterer aimed toward the nearest plant.

Paxine wondered, while she watched it, if the Waterer had a camera. It tip the can. No water came out.

“I don’t think the Waterer is fixed,” Paxine said to no one while the Waterer continued to “water” the plant for the allotted time. “Maybe it’s invisible water.” She laughed.

The Waterer moved toward the next plant, crossing into a patch of sunshine. It stopped, tilting its flat top toward the light. There was a square patch of blue glass in the middle of its top.

“A solar panel. So time for recharging, huh?”

“Here you go,” Greta said, coming in. She set down a glass on the coffee table and dancing away.

“Thanks,” Paxine said, but Greta had already disappeared.

She expected the drink to be iced tea since she was with her grandma, but her first sip revealed it was soda, and her favorite kind. She decided she was going to like Greta.

“I’m afraid Garon isn’t the only one demanding your attention. There is a customer. They want you to call as soon as you can. Already transferred funds.” Greta’s soft voice drifting over into the waiting area.

Paxine chose a chair at the edge of the waiting area so she could see into her grandma’s office. She didn’t need to be closer to hear, always wondering if she had the ears of a cat since she could always hear things that most people couldn’t, like conversations in another room.

Greta stood in the middle of the doorway, blocking most of Paxine’s view into the room.

“Have I worked with this customer before?” her grandma said.

“No, but the person comes with a recommendation. You’ll want to work with her. I’ll get some tea. You sound like you need some.”

“When did customers start demanding my services rather than asking?” Her grandma’s voice contained some irritation.

Her grandma’s door closed when Greta left, but just before it closed all the way…

“Come on in, Paxine,” her grandma said.

The door clicked shut, but opened when Paxine neared it. She figured there was some mechanism of control. The door closed behind her. The silence of the office overwhelmed her.

Her grandma sat at a glass desk near the windows. Light sneaked around the pale blue shades and reflected off the desk. The middle of the room housed two sofas facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. In a far corner was a nook with a television, lounge chair, and an end table. All the furniture was a neutral tan. Pale blue pillows on the sofa matched the window shades. The tone of the office was calm, except for the huge painting of a large wild-looking spotted cat that hung opposite of her grandma’s desk. The cat lounged on a tree branch in a jungle scene.

“Do you like that?” Her grandma was referring to the painting.

“Yeah.” Paxine was surprised to feel a great sense of awe.

“Very powerful. It’s a picture of one of our ancestors.”

“A cat?”

“A wild Asian leopard cat,” her grandma said, coming over and putting a hand on her shoulder. “There is something you should know. I am the Director of The Foundation.”

“What’s The Foundation? Something secret?” She was feeling that she was hearing something important.

“You’ll be learning all about it.” Her grandma was staring at the painting.

“Like lip reading?”

“Yes, and speed-reading.”

“That’s a new one.” She made a mental note to study up on speed-reading.

“The Foundation isn’t a business you’ll find in the phone book or on the internet. And if you need to know about The Foundation, then The Foundation knows about you.”

“Wow, really secret.”

“Behind every great man is a woman,” her grandma said in a serious tone. “And behind that woman is the Foundation.”

“So something my dad isn’t going to know about.”

“He’s knows, but he calls it a wife.” Her grandma still sounded serious.

Paxine wanted to laugh, but she didn’t.

“That darn phone.” Her grandma growled.

Her cell phone was crawling across her desk toward the edge.

“Call Garon,” her grandma said to the phone.

The phone sat up, beeping as it dialed.

“So what good is an emergency when you don’t respond?” said a man’s cranky voice when the call connected.

“Garon, just what is this emergency? You could have talked with Greta?”

“She doesn’t have the phone, now does she? Or did she, and you were out all day? No, it’s almost lunch time and you were only scheduled to see kittens this morning. So? Find one?”

“You’ve been beeping me all morning. Was this just a test? Or a real emergency?” Her grandma looked annoyed.

“I gotta test it sometime.”

“Well, you could warn me.”

“What good would that do? You ignored the phone.”

“Then you talk to Greta.”

“So, you too good for me, hey? I gotta talk to the help?” He burst out laughing. “Boy, Greta’s gonna like that. She’s help now.” Garon laughed again, ending the call.

Paxine laughed, thinking he was funny, but cut short her laughter when her grandma shook her head.

“Greta’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. You just think she’s a cheerful front desk receptionist, but she is not. She manages the most difficult person in the world. Me.”

Paxine didn’t think her grandma was difficult, maybe peculiar.

“Greta is brilliant, observant, and the most dangerous woman in the office. You can’t get anything by her.”

A clink of a spoon behind them announced Greta’s presence.

“I can read minds too,” Greta said with a wink, setting down a tea tray on the desk and dancing out of the office.

Paxine laughed, thinking she really liked Greta.