“You’re right.” I nodded. “I won’t melt. Guess I’d better get a move on.”
Azalea picked up the basket and nodded. “I’ll be gone by the time you’re home again. I’m going to bake a casserole for you. It’ll be in the oven.”
I thanked her before I went into the hall to grab my raincoat from the coatrack. When I walked back into the kitchen on my way to the attached garage, I heard her singing in the utility room, along with the sound of water filling the washing machine.
The drive to the public library took only a few minutes. Nothing was far from anything else in Athena, a fact over which I marveled frequently after so many years in Houston. I parked my car in the lot beside the building. The front end touched the low hedge that bordered the lot on three sides. As I stepped out of the car, unfurling my umbrella as I did so, I thought I saw something moving in the shrubbery. I shut the door and stood for a moment, watching, but then decided I must have imagined it. There was no further movement in the dark areas beneath the shrubs on this murky day.
I headed into the library to get out of the rain and into the warmth. The cheerful faces of two of the library staff members, Lizzie Hayes and Bronwyn Forster, greeted me, and my spirits began to lift. Really, I was lucky to have such nice people to spend time with, and I ought to be more grateful for that. Besides, I knew they appreciated the help I gave them.
I spent a couple of hours cataloging and processing new books, interrupted by the occasional short burst of conversation with either Lizzie or Bronwyn. Teresa Farmer, the chief reference librarian, popped her head into the office to say hello, and we chatted for a moment. Teresa asked if I could work the reference desk from two to three today, and I said I’d be happy to. After that I would be done for the day.
The time passed pleasantly enough, though slowly. Few people made it into the library, probably due to the weather. When I finished my stint at three, I bundled up again, bade everyone goodbye, and headed to my car, umbrella over my head.
As I neared my car, I saw a longish, dark shape dart out of the shrubbery and run under the car. I stopped a few feet away and squatted awkwardly as I tried to keep the umbrella over me. I thought I saw an animal of some kind behind one of the rear wheels, but the afternoon was so gray that I had difficulty discerning anything clearly.
My knees protested as I stood, and I remained in place. What kind of creature was under my car? Could it be a possum or a raccoon? They turned up in people’s yards all the time. The last thing I wanted was to be attacked by a wild animal. No, I decided after a moment’s reflection. The way the creature moved, it had to be a cat. Probably a family pet that had strayed away from home.
I took a couple of steps toward the car and knelt again. “Hello there, kitty. Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. Come out where I can see you better.” I repeated my words in a croon, over and over, and although my knees ached, I kept it up until finally a dark head with two large ears appeared from behind the rear tire.
“Well, hello, kitty,” I said. “You look wet and unhappy. How about you let me come closer? Would that be okay?” I kept up the soft patter as I moved clumsily forward in a crouch.
The cat didn’t run off. Instead he—or she—watched me intently. I got as close as three feet from him, and still he hadn’t moved. I stopped and held out my hand.
“Why don’t you come over and say hello? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I bet you’re really wet and cold by now, and I’ve got an old towel in the backseat of my car. I can wrap you up in that and you’ll be all nice and warm. How does that sound?”
The cat regarded me for a moment, and I had the strangest feeling he understood every word. He meowed, rather loudly, and took a couple of steps toward me. I held still, but kept murmuring to him, and finally he came close enough for me to touch his head gently.
His bedraggled coat dripped water, and he looked to be a year or so old. He must weigh a good ten pounds, I reckoned. I couldn’t see a collar, and I wondered whether he had gotten loose from a nearby house or if someone had dumped him here. The latter thought made me angry, because I despised people who abandoned their pets. If they couldn’t care for them for some reason, they should at least have the decency to turn them in to a shelter. I knew Athena had a no-kill one.
I shouldn’t be so pessimistic, I realized. He was probably only lost. If that were the case, perhaps an ad in the local paper would help locate his family.
The cat rubbed his head against my hand and then looked up at me with sad eyes. He chirped at me—at least, that was what it sounded like. I’d never heard a cat make such a sound before. When my children were young, we’d had a pair of cats, littermates. Both of them were chatty, but I’d never heard either of them chirp.
What should I do next? I wondered. Should I try to pick him up and put him in the car? Or open the car door and see if he would jump in? I might scare him off if I tried to pick him up. I certainly didn’t want to get clawed. My coat would protect my arms, but I didn’t have gloves with me.
While I debated what to do, the cat solved the dilemma for me. He turned toward the car and put a large paw on the rear door. Then he stretched up on his hind legs and touched the handle.
I was so surprised I almost lost my balance and fell back on my rear on the wet pavement. This was one smart cat, I realized. I steadied myself and got to my feet, wincing at the stiffness in my knees.
“Okay, kitty, I’ll open the door and you hop in, okay?” I unlocked the doors, and the cat moved back to allow me to open the rear door. I closed my umbrella and stuck it on the floorboard. The cat jumped inside, and I leaned in to grab the towel I kept there and wrap him in it. I rubbed him with the towel, and he rewarded me with a deep, rumbling purr.
“You sound like a diesel engine.” I laughed. He kept up the purring while I continued to dry him with the towel. By this time the back of my raincoat was dripping, and I decided I had better get in the car myself. I left the towel around him, shut the door, then opened the front door and climbed in.
I twisted in my seat to look at the cat. He chirped at me again, all the while keeping his eyes focused on my face.
“What should we do now?” I said. “You don’t have a collar, so I have no idea where or to whom you belong.” I thought for a moment. “Maybe you have one of those microchips. I’ll need to take you to the vet to find out.”
The cat meowed, then started licking his right front paw. Had he just agreed with me? I wondered.
I pulled out my cell phone and tapped the icon for the browser. I did a search for veterinarians in Athena, and the first one who came up was a Dr. Devon Romano. Her clinic wasn’t far from the library, so I decided to head there.
A few minutes later my passenger and I pulled up in front of the clinic. There were three other cars in the parking area. I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait long. I still felt damp and chilled, and I was ready to get home for a hot bath.
Deciding that trying to handle the umbrella and the cat at the same time would be a recipe for disaster, I resigned myself to a wet head. I climbed out of the car and opened the back door. The cat eyed me with what seemed to be a suspicious glare as I stuck my head and shoulders inside the car.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I said in a soothing tone. “We’re going to go inside and talk to the nice people here, and they’re going to help us find out who you belong to, and then you’ll get to go back home and be warm and dry.”
As I talked, I reached toward him, and for a moment I thought he was going to slap at me with one of his large front paws. He held still, however, and let me check to make sure the towel was secured around him. He shivered suddenly, but then seemed content to let me pick him up and tuck him close to my chest.