The Spotted Tail

“I had a really weird dream last night,” Paxine said, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Garon put the leftover pizza out on the table. “Good morning. We have a busy, busy day.”

“I was riding in a box on the back of a scooter. And I remember spiders,” she said, grabbing a brand new toothbrush she found in the bathroom.

She had the feeling that Garon wasn’t listening or at least didn’t seem interested, grabbing a piece of pizza and eating over the box.

“This is my kind of breakfast. Soda too?” she said, deciding to eat first and brush later.

“Unwess you want to dwink out of the cat fountain,” he said with his mouth full.

“Ha ha.” She grabbed two sodas from the fridge.

“I don’t know why Tache is so tired. He slept with me all night,” she said, finding glasses and ice. “He’s curled up so tight in a ball on my bed I don’t think I could uncurl him.”

“Let him sleep. We don’t need any of his services at the moment.”

They finished the last of the pizza and he threw the box away.

“Go get your new shoes,” he said, pushing the table over to one side of the room.

“Why?” She brushed crumbs from her shirt.

“Practice,” he said.

“Let me brush first.” She chugged the rest of her soda, burping as she headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.

Garon seemed to be dancing around the room when she came back through to get her shoes. What was he going to do? Teach her to dance? She unboxed her new shoes, releasing new shoe scent into the room. The shoes sparkled, looking magical. She had never been excited about shoes before.

“Come around here. Pretend that this is the entrance to the Ball. Security will be here and here.” He pointed as if there were tables and barricades positioned around the room.

Paxine slipped her shoes on, feeling as if she was walking on stilts. She wondered if she could pretend to be an adult and get her own cube. How much did they cost? How much money did the cash card that Garon gave her have left?

“Watch it. That’s security. Stay with me now,” he said, leading her around the invisible objects. “This is how you present your invitation, then they will have you go into a cube that goes to the Ball. Then there is more security…” He led her through the routine, pretending to show the invitation, entering a cube, and exiting the cube.

Paxine rolled her eyes behind his back.

“Now, about what to say. Try and always divert the conversation back to the person. Ask them questions. Compliment them. If they ask you a question, answer briefly, and then ask them back. Keep them talking is the goal. The more they talk, the less you have to talk.

“I think I can handle that. So how long have you been skirting around security?” she said.

“What security? Okay, now put your arm through mine. Stand tall and act like you are better than anyone,” he said, ignoring her joking without missing a beat.

She giggled.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“I’m laughing about ‘what security’.”

“Well, you’ve seen security like the restaurant,” he said matter-of-fact.

“Yeah. What security.” She did a dramatic eye roll.

“Okay. Nose up. That is how these people walk. Give people a thin-lipped smile and maybe a nod of the head or just a slow blink of the eyes. Or better yet, pretend you are the Queen of cats, and everyone is your servant.” He stuck his nose up in the air.

Paxine stuck her nose high in the air, pretending to be haughty.

“Excellent,” he said, looking delighted. “Keep that up and I’d not even recognize you, which is good actually. Hopefully no one else will recognize you either.”

“I’ve never really met any of these people. I’ve only seen them on the news. Dad’s press conferences never include mom or me.”

“Yes, on purpose. Now let’s pretend to talk.”

He led her arm in arm around the room, pretending the cabinets were people.

“How do you do,” he said, introducing her to a cabinet, showing her how to act and talk. “Now you do it.”

“I happen to know this cabinet,” she said. “But I will introduce you to this cabinet. How do you do?”

Garon ignored her playing, making her repeat the conversations until he was satisfied.

“Now remember, if they get too nosey about who you are, ask them how well they know the governor or something like that,” he said, pulling plastic pieces and tools from cabinets.

“This is how the table is set. Your plate. Salad plate. There will be 3 forks and three spoons,” he said.

“I’ve already learned the fork and spoon rules. You do know who I am,” she said with a glare.

“Oh, right. I forgot. You’re not totally isolated from high society.”

He set the table using plastic pieces for plates and tools for silverware. She found it hard to take the settings seriously with screwdrivers and pliers pretending to be forks.

“Now, there won’t be any seafood, shell fish, peanuts or cheese,” he said, rattling off items as he counted on his fingers.

“No cheese? Why?”

“The Governor is allergic to peanuts, someone, uh, I can never remember, is allergic to shell fish. And they like to stay away from dairy. Urg.” He scratched his head. “Nobody seems to eat just plain food. Have to have fancy stuff and everyone is allergic to stuff.”

“Crepes. Stuffed olives. Pate and caviar,” She said with a snobbish tone.

“Now stay away from pate and caviar. Try to eat what is real food,” he said.

“And what is real food?” she said, looking at the fake plates and silverware.

“Salads without dressing. Breads. No butter. Vegetables that are not in a sauce,” he said using his fingers again to rattle off the items.

“I see. Don’t eat anything,” she said.

“Your Tail won’t be able to check what you eat so…ahhh, yeah, don’t eat anything. Or wait for someone else to eat it first. And especially, don’t eat anything you don’t recognize,” he said, looking horrified that anything edible could be unrecognizable.

He sat, pretending to eat.

“Can I talk?” she said, sitting next to him.

“What? Of course not. What did I say? Have everyone else talk. You listen. Listen to whoever is talking as if they are the most interesting person you have ever met,” he said, rising. “Now let’s go through security again. Walking to your table and …”

“This is the hundredth time we’ve done this,” she said hours later. “How about some real food?”

“Huh?” He checked the time. “Oh, dear! You’re right. We missed lunch. Chinese okay?”

He headed for the door without waiting for an answer.

“Mai Fun if they have it,” she said, wondering where he was going to find a Chinese restaurant.

He nodded and was gone.

The shop was quiet. Tache was still sleeping. She pulled out her gamer, her stomach growling.

“Lunch. I mean dinner,” Garon said, coming through the door with a Chinese takeout sack.

“What?” she said in astonishment. She wasn’t even half way through a game. “That didn’t take long. Boy, I’m hungry. Where are the chopsticks?”

“Nope,” he said, setting the food on the table. “Now let’s go through security.”

“Food,” she said, looking like she was going to start drooling.

“In time.” He walked her through how to act going through security and going to her table. He pushed aside the fake plates and silverware and replaced them with plastic forks and the Chinese takeout.

“No chopsticks.” She resigned herself to following his instructions, figuring she would never get to eat if she didn’t.

Tache and Shaloonya made a brief appearance to check the food, before disappearing again. She wondered if Shaloonya was still training Tache.

“Okay, enough practice, let me show you a film of last year’s Ball,” he said, finishing a plate of Mai Fun.

Paxine shoveled in the last of the rice while Garon set up a screen. The film was short, showing people lining up, presenting their invitation and disappearing into a cube. She almost fell asleep watching.

“Now that you’ve seen how it’s done, let’s practice again,” he said.

“I know how to do this.” She yawned.

“You need to know how to do this in your sleep. There is no second chance when we’re actually there.”

She sighed, but knew he wouldn’t let her rest until she was perfect. After two more rehearsals, he was satisfied.

“Now, how do we hide it?” he said

“Hide what?” she said, thinking it was bedtime.

“The spoon.”

“Why do I need the spoon?”

“You should always be armed. You’re not getting through security with a club or a gun. But no one is going to take the spoon away,” he said.

“Oh.” She thought a spoon would be rather conspicuous, but she pulled the spoon out of her backpack. “It’s kinda long.”

“Hum.”He examined the spoon with great care.

“In my hair?” She pulled her hair up into a bun and tried to stick the spoon in it.

He shook his head no.

“Well, I can’t stick it in a boot. I won’t have a purse large enough. Can’t take the backpack.”

There was no place to hide the spoon, so why was Garon still thinking? She didn’t see an end to his thinking so decided she had to show him there was no place for the spoon.

“I’ll go put the dress on,” she said.

Paxine felt like a princess. The dress floated around her like wisps of blue smoke.

“There isn’t a belt or sash,” she said, dancing around the room. “I can’t hide it under the dress unless I strap it to my leg, but…”

She slipped the spoon under her dress.

“Too long,” he said. “And not handy.”

“Well, then…” She slipped the spoon; handle first, down the front of her dress.

“Hum.” He didn’t look happy.

Paxine checked a mirror. The spoon looked ridiculous. “Well, maybe a necklace that goes down low. Or…”

“Sparkles,” he said, grabbing a pair of scissors from a drawer.

“Sparkles?” She wondered why he was heading for her with the scissors.

“Hold still.” He snipped a few sequins off her dress.

“You’ll ruin the dress,” she said, moving away.

“Only a few and they won’t be missed. Now, give me the spoon.”

He embedded the sequins into the rounded end of the spoon.

“Almost,” he said, snipping off more sequins and embedding them into the spoon. “One more…”

“No. That’s enough.” She moved out of his reach. “People are wearing stranger things.”

“Just a few more…” He was holding the scissors, looking like a dangerous maniac to her.

Paxine escaped to her cot, returning the dress to the safety of the plastic.

“We’re not done yet,” he said.

“Really.” She stomped into the room. “I’m getting really tired.”

“One more time.”

Paxine sighed, resuming her character, walking through security and dining. However, only after she completed an excellent conversation with a shelf did Garon announced it was bedtime. She sunk down on her cot, falling asleep in moments.

However, it felt like no time at all when she hear Garon.

“Are you getting out of bed? It’s late. We gotta go,” he said, sounding as if she had slept the whole day.

“Already?” She rolled over on the cot to go back to sleep.

He whipped the blanket off her.

Paxine sat up with a groan, only to plop back down. Tache jumped up beside her, smacking her with his tail. “Okay. Okay,” she said, rising.

“Quickly now. We have to go.” He was rushing around, putting his worktable back in to the middle of the room.

“Can I go to the bathroom at least?” she said.

“Quickly.”

Garon was holding her new shoes and dress when she came out. She hoisted up her backpack, glad it was much lighter without Tache, who insisted on following Shaloonya, literally, copying whatever she did.

Crunch. The walk back through the corridors seemed just as long as the first time, if not longer. The debris underfoot crunched louder than she remembered.

Yawn.

She almost laughed when she caught herself walking with her nose in the air as if she was still practicing with Garon.

“You kept me up too late,” she said.

Creak.

He checked out the door before ushering her out. The sun was bright. She covered her eyes, using Tache’s eyes to guide her.

“It’s too early to be up,” she said with a moan.

“It’s already nine o’clock and we’re late.”

“Nine? Feels more like five,” Paxine said, having to use her own eyes. All she could see through Tache’s eyes was Shaloonya.

“Where we going? Where’s the car? I thought we’re going to grandma’s?”

“We are. No car today and no cube landings in this part of town,” he said, crossing the street.

“Why?” She noticed they weren’t going in circles this time.

“No tower,” he said.

“No what?”

Paxine didn’t get an answer, having to walk quickly to keep up with Him. He seemed focused on reaching their destination, wherever that was. She feared they were going to walk the entire way to her grandma’s house, which she knew was nowhere near the area of town they were in.

The apartment buildings disappeared behind them and small businesses and warehouses now surrounded them. Paxine yawned, thinking this area didn’t look any more promising than the apartment buildings for a cube landing. The buildings were dreary and no one was around.

“How many more miles?” she said, feeling tired and hungry. She yawned again.

Ding.

A short distance ahead a cube appeared.

Greta stepped out. “Good morning sleepy head,” she said with a laugh.

“What a sight for sore feet,” Garon said, sounding tired.

Paxine pretended to sleep walk, raising her arms, shuffling into the cube. She yawned again, feeling herself propelled into her grandma’s living room.

“Good morning,” her grandma said, giving her a hug. “Ugh. You need a shower.”

“Good morning grandma,” Paxine said, dropping her backpack with relief, yawning again.

“Goodness, Garon. You wore her out,” her grandma said.

“What’s for breakfast?” he said, ignoring the comment.

“First, a shower for this young lady. What about you?” her grandma said.

Garon pretended to sniff his shirt.

“Meow.”

“Who asked you?” he said, pretending to glare at Shaloonya, but only for a moment. “Yes, I guess I need a shower, too.”

“Upstairs, both of you,” her grandma said with a commanding glare.

Paxine thought her grandma’s stairs seemed steeper than usual. The bed in the guest bedroom looked inviting, but her grandma was right behind her, steering her toward the bathroom.

“Put all your clothes in the basket. Wash your hair,” her grandma said, barking out orders.

Her grandma turned the shower on, testing the water temperature.

“Water’s hot. Here’s a toothbrush for you. Make sure you brush well, you are going to a party tonight.”

“Aye aye captain,” Paxine said with a salute.

Her grandma shut the door. “And hurry up.”

Paxine thought a shower never felt so good. Her hair felt so grubby that she lathered it up twice. When she stepped out of the shower, her clothes were gone, but a robe hung on the door.

“You done?” her grandma said from outside the door.

“Yeah.” She wrapped her hair in another towel.

Her grandma opened the door. “Steamy in here. Come on down to the kitchen. You’ll be getting your hair and makeup done before you get dressed for the Ball.”

“That’s hours away,” she said.

“You’ll be surprised at how much time it takes to get ready. Breakfast is waiting.” Her grandma gave her a gentle push toward the stairs.

The kitchen was empty, but toast and a covered plate was on the table. Paxine slathered strawberry jam on her toast. She uncovered the plate, revealing a yummy omelet with ham, tomatoes, onions, and mushrooms; all the stuff she liked.

Garon danced into the kitchen. “Fresh as a flower. I just had a shower.” He gasped when he spied the teapot. “Ah, tea.” He shook like a man in need while he poured, but he never spilled a drop, tossing in two sugars and a good bit of cream. “Aaaah. Your grandma has the best tea.”

“Ha ha,” she said with a laugh.

Garon prepared a second cup when Shaloonya trotted into the kitchen, rubbing against him. He knelt to stroke her fur and give her chin a scratch before she trotted out of the room.

“She checks on you,” she said.

“Does Tache check on you?” he said.

“Yeah, he does. I guess I’m still getting used to everyone having cats.”

“Tails. And not everyone has them. Some, we are learning, are special.” He poured his third cup of tea.

“Like Tache and how he protected someone else?” she said.

“Yes, and Tinder and Shaloonya.” He paused to spread strawberry jam on his toast, and take a bite.

“Hum?” She prompted him to continue.

“We think Tinder and Shaloonya are sisters. They came from the same breeder, but not the same litter. Shaloonya is older,” he said, wiping a smudge of jam from his finger.

“I thought Shaloonya was Tinder the first time I saw her. They have the same face and eyes. Mainly the eyes,” she said.

Garon ate some more toast before he continued. “They can talk to each other.”

“So. Tache talks to Tinder whenever they see each other,” she said with a shrug.

“No, I mean they can talk to each other even when not together.”

“That’s telepathy and impossible,” she said matter-of-fact.