And They're Off

The orange and white Bright brothers, Sunny and Tommy, Calico Grace and sultry tortoiseshell Dahlene convened under the cypress tree in front of the “Rags” Scheuermann Field entrance, as cars zipped into position. The game would begin shortly. Little League and tee-ball were already in session on the other side of the parking lot.

Sunny said, Let’s zigzag through the parking lot. If we get separated, we’ll meet under the bushes by the Student Life Center just past the tables with the umbrellas. Can you see it at the end of the parking lot? Y’all ready?

Each cat mewed and nodded. Sunny took off at a run with Tommy in hot pursuit.
The girls looked at each other for a moment. Are you sure? Grace said to Dahlene.  Don’t be such a little pussy. We’re here now; let’s go! Dahlene stretched out her long, sleek body to strides that would make a panther proud with Grace struggling to keep up.

People getting out of cars, heading to watch the baseball game caused the boys to duck and cover under a Dart. Crawling on bellies between cars where people stood talking, the boys were GI Joes. One brother looked out, while the other slipped to the next car. This was a game they practiced since they were kittens. End of the parking lot, just a sprint across the grassy knoll with the stone tables and they could catch their breath under the cover of the bushes.

Dahlene and Grace veered to the right to run along the stadium fence line away from the people and cars. Hidden fur balls with paws tucked tightly under their chests, hearts pounded as they waited for the boys to finish their game of tag under the cars.

Oh, look Dahlene, old Lemon and the Dipsticks are belly crawling down the ball field fence, now they got themselves another parking lot to cross. It was shorter the way we came. Guess that’s why they call em dipsticks.

Tommy and Sunny slid into base next to the girls.  Scent marking and bush rubbing mandatory beffore settling into new habitat: Macho Rule #42.

Whoa, Bro, did you see that woman with the ugly flip-flops? Plastic flowers, what was she thinking? Sunny rolled his head in disdain.

Yeah, Cat, and that man tried to kick me. He walked a duck. You remember those Muscovies we saw here, when we came to Delgado in the spring? His feet looked like those ugly ducks’ feet. He was no challenge to this cat. Tommy replied.

If your male bonding time is over, let’s get on with it. I saw the Dipsticks and old Lemon head down the ball field fence. And, there’s a Black Cat under the Jaguar in the parking lot. Grace reported.

Stay close to the building, when in new or dangerous territory: Cat Rule#5.

Braver than she’s ever been before, Grace ran down the west length of the building. She rounded the southwest corner, as her three buds scrambled to their paws.
Across the grass, along another wall scampered old Lemon and the Dipsticks.
Grace broke into a gallop up an incline. At the top, Grace realized how far she was from cover. She poured on the speed. At the southeast corner an Azalea offered shelter. Grace’s heart beat pounded in her ears. She opened her mouth to pant; something Grace had never done before. Excited, scared, Grace settled while Dahlene and the Bright boys scampered along choosing not to traverse the incline, but to hug the outer wall closer to cover.  

Girl, you been in the catnip patch?  What got into you? First thing I know, you’re gone like a fur ball on fire. Do you know where you’re going? I don’t like running after your bushy tail. Ya, hear? Dahlene rebuked the calico.

Grace, you have to be cautious, all kinds of dangerous things around here.  Sunny warned.  

The wind whipped, clouds dimmed the glow of sunset. Shadows undulated with the leaves. The Dipsticks and old Lemon continued, as the foursome bickered under a bush.

Y’all are always picking on me, sayin what a prissy feline I am, so persnickety. I know what y’all say behind my back. See, I’m no scaredy cat.

Tommy purred approval, once this femme makes up her mind, bam, she does it. You are the ocelot of the parking lot, Babe.

If we’re gonna go, I want a good seat, not out in the parking lot. Are you kittens ready?

 Grace tried to stay close to the wal,l but water, more presisely, a pond made it impossible. Amazingly, she began broken field running from shrub to shrub. She slipped over a bridge to get close to the building again. The calico stopped under fan shaped palms near the bust of F. Edward Herbert, Congressman, Patriot, Journalist, and Statesman. Her excitement and confidence soared.

Twilight and the wind converged on the island in the pond. A shadowy form slid into the water. Grace focused, as it floated to the shore near her. The shape emerged. Dahlene and the boys joined her under the palms.

We should be acting like a pride of lions, not lone Bengal Tigers, Grace. Dahlene chided. Neither one of us ever been more than a block or two away in our lives and here you go like you know what you are doing. Girl, you’re goin to be the death of me.

The boys had come this far before, but they came down with an acute case of homesick. The creature they encountered on the way or may not have had anything to do with it. Tommy and Sunny circled Grace and Dahlene, as Dahlene arched her back and shook her tail at Grace, who kept looking past Dahlene, which annoyed the impatient queen.

Grace, look at me when I’m talking to you. Grace motioned with her head for Dahlene to look. What kind of demon is that? Dahlene shrieked.

Yaoworrorrroh,  all cats screamed as the siloettes waddled into sight. The wind blew their feathers up. One flapped its wings. The large, squat birds with huge webbed feet shuffled towards the cats. Their large yellow beaks were covered red, maybe, the flesh of another foe. The cats turned to run back over the bridge and came face to face with a big evil fowl with feathers all over. Dahlene reared up on her hind end with both front paws held high, ready to strike, she hissed and spat in it's face. They just stood there. The brothers ran for cover by the building. The wind escalated. The branches bowed to the pressure. The largest Muscovy extended its wings into the wind. It looked fierce. The calico screamed, Dahlene, let’s go.

As much as Dahlene loves a good scrap, she knew it was time to cut and run. Next time you big buzzard.

The fattest fowl with red piled high on his bill flapped its wings, quack, quack- come back scaredy cat. Quack, quack, ha-ha. The hen caught up with her hero. Honey, watch how you talk in front of the chicks, she chortled as they waddled into the wind.

All in a row along building twenty-three, the east side of the Student Life Center, the cats stood with hair standing on end, their backs arched and  bottle brush tails. Run for your lives, Grace cried. Crouching low, the cats scurried across the campus. In a dead heap they arrived by the book drop box in front of building ten. Eyes bulging, hearts pounding, they huddled together to calm down.

Those vultures were ready to pick our bones, exclaimed Tommy. We’re too fast for those feathered freaks. Did you see? They wanted a piece of me. I knew they were killer ducks, when I saw them last spring.He preened and gestured in the direction of the birds settling down for the night.

The cat companions rested until their pulses were normal. Half of the journey to the park completed; they only had the east parking lot, no man’s land and north and south Orleans to go to get to City Park.