Writing Kittens
Mystery grows as felines invade
The smoldering coals in the bedroom fireplace warmed my toes before bed. I had everything I needed; writing desk covered in pens and pencils, a plot outline, intriguing characters talking to me on my journey here. If only I had hired someone to cook, I would never leave this elegant room for two weeks of my writing holiday.
A wail broke, and then restarted. Was it a cat? Feral ones must about around here. I was not going to feed it.
I had grown so used to it I didn’t realise how close it was. Pitter-pattering feet and loud screams of delight followed the whack of the front gate. A harsh woman’s voice sounded from the front door, which opened below me. An army of elephantine feet thundered in.
I jerked aside the blanket on my knees and rushed to the stairs. Two mop-haired children slowed to pass me and then ran into one of the bedrooms.
“Excuse me!” I yelled at them. Turning, I repeated my objection to the two women in the foyer, one holding a squalling infant. “You are trespassing on my property! I have taken this villa for two weeks.”
“Oh! You too?” The woman not holding the infant dropped a bundle of non description. “We took it just for two weeks while they worked on the renovations. The bathrooms, you know.”
Two more, smaller children entered with suitcases.
“You can’t.” I hollered back. “There has been a mistake. I took this all to myself. Alone.”
The woman with the infant stalked into the kitchen at the back of the house. The other woman directed the two children up the stairs. The first two hung over the banister on either side of me, yelling encouragement and ownership of one of the bedrooms.
“You make sure the nice lady has a bedroom all to herself.” The woman disappeared outside.
My mouth gaped. I gathered my skirts and ran down the stairs in time to meet her as she hauled two more bundles into the house. “Excuse me. You are not moving in here. There has been a mistake.”
“Does seem that way, lovie. But its after dark, we’ve traveled all day, and the children are hungry. Give us a moment and we’ll have the owner up, but she won’t be here before morning. It’s a long way up the hill. You don’t expect us who’ve just come up it to go all the way back down in the dark.”
“That’s why I took this place for peace and quiet. I did not expect to be disturbed.”
I jumped as a harsh voice warned from the kitchen, “Come and get it!”
The four children pelted down the stairs, rushed past me on either side, nearly upending me, and disappeared down the hall to the kitchen.
The next morning, I stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen. The kettle steamed. The two women lounged at the table with the infant in one lap and the two smaller children in the other. The older two were tearing up the garden.
We argued about who was to fetch the owner. Possession being nine tenths, neither of us wanted to leave. They did not mind my presence half as much as I minded theirs. I could not write with noise. We decided to wait to see if the owner would check on me.
A high pitched scream shattered the mid afternoon serenity. Naps abounded among the younger and older set. The middle aged, meaning the two older children had run off to the pond. I stared at the blank page.
The scream repeated. No one else responded.
Smacking my pen down on the blank page, I raced down the stairs, out the garden gate. More screams and a desperate child’s voice guided me to the pond. I feared the worst. Drowning. Careless! I cursed the two women.
At the edge of the pond, a young girl tugged fiercely at a workman’s suspenders. “You can’t! You mustn’t!”
The workman held the mouth of a burlap sack closed and prepared to heave it into the pond.
“Lady, lady!” the other child grabbed my skirts and dragged me into the scene. “He’s going to drown the kittens. You must stop him, please lady!”
Three weeks later, I visited my friend.
“Get your book done?” she asked.
“No,” I sighed. “I spent the time feeding kittens.”
She laughed, not believing me.
“No, really,” I assured her. “And my mystery novel is much more complex now. There are these three women, four children, a six month old, and three kittens …”
This was written to respond to this prompt:
Thank you to Microcosm and Zane Dickens for keeping me busy!
