“What?” said Brutus, visibly surprised.
“Yeah, I talked to Odelia about your condition, and I see now that I judged you too harshly. You, too, by the way, Dooley.”
“Oh-kay,” said Brutus cautiously, clearly wondering what the catch was.
“So now I’m thinking you two should probably get some professional help.”
“Pro-professional… help?”
“I’m sure if you talk to Vena she’ll be able to give you something for that dodgy bladder of yours. You’re too young to let this kind of problem control your life, smoochie poo. And I know that Odelia suggested placing a plastic tub in the bedroom so you won’t have this kind of… accident in the middle of the night, but just know there is a more permanent solution. One that will make your bladder behave again—just like it used to.” And she proceeded to give her boyfriend a big smile of support.
“But… my bladder is just fine,” said Brutus.
“My bladder is fine, too,” said Dooley.
“I don’t need to go to the doctor.”
“Me, neither,” said Dooley.
“Now Brutus, I know you like to act tough and all, but there really is no shame in this. There are many, many people, and plenty of pets, who suffer the same thing you two do.”
“Suffer… what, exactly?” asked Brutus, wide-eyed now.
“Well, incontinence, of course. And I’m sure that if you just talk to Vena—”
“Incontinence!”
“What is incontinence, Max?” asked Dooley.
“It’s when you have no control over your bladder. Or your bowels.”
“But… I’m not incontinent!” Brutus cried.
“Now, now, pookie bear,” said Harriet, contriving a look of compassion. “There’s no sense denying the obvious. And no shame, you hear me? No shame whatsoever.”
“I’m not ashamed—my bladder works perfectly fine, and so does everything else!”
“Oh, munchkin,” said Harriet with a sigh. “I knew you’d react this way. Look, you don’t have to act tough for my sake. I’ll talk to Odelia and set up an appointment with Vena.”
“What?!!!”
“And I want you to know you have my full support, my precious angel. My love muffin. My cuddle bear. I’ll be right by your side throughout the whole procedure.”
“But I’m not—”
“Oh, I know, chickadee. I know.”
“But my bladder is perfectly—”
“Of course it is. Absolutely.”
“But, Harriet!”
“It’s all right, handsome. And I love you all the same—my incontinent honey bear.”
“Can you please cut down on the blather?” asked Clarice annoyedly. “I can’t focus.”
“Yes, Clarice,” said Harriet dutifully.
She wasn’t entirely happy about this new situation, but it was better than being attacked by some pyromaniacal cat killer. And since she’d try to be more compassionate from now on, she could see that even though Clarice was all bluster and snide comments, underneath all that was a scared little pussy. At least she thought there was.
So she sidled up to Clarice now, and said, “Clarice, honey, you don’t have to act tough on my account, you know. I mean, it’s perfectly fine to be yourself when I’m around.”
“What are you talking about, toots?” asked Clarice, her eyes flitting all over the place, like one of those Secret Service agents running along the car with their president. All that was missing now were a pair of snazzy sunglasses and a wrist mic to mumble into.
“What I mean is that we’re just girls together, you and I, and you can’t fool me.”
“Still don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“You can drop the act, Clarice. Underneath that tough exterior you’re a sweet soul. I know that. And it’s all right to let it out.”
Clarice cut her a look that was anything but sweet. “I think you better get back in line now, before I give you a piece of my soul you won’t like.”
Doubts started to creep in when Harriet looked deeply into the wild cat’s eyes and saw not a hint of sweetness there—only an interior that was as tough or even tougher than the exterior. “I just want you to know,” she said, placing a paw on Clarice’s shoulder, “that I care. I care about you, Clarice, I really do.”
Clarice glanced down at the paw, then up at Harriet, and her expression darkened. “If you don’t remove that paw right now you’re going to lose it.”
“W-what?”
“I’m going to cut you, Harriet. I’m going to cut you so bad you’ll wish you were never born.”
“But… you’re supposed to protect me!” she cried, removing her paw as if from a burning stove, then quickly rejoined the others. “Clarice isn’t nice,” she announced with a pout. “I tried to be compassionate and she threatened me—actually threatened me!”
“I know,” said Brutus. “And that’s why she’s the best bodyguard in Hampton Cove. No offense, Rambo.”
“None taken,” said the big dog, lumbering along. “Hey, where can we find some food around here? I’m starving.”
Chapter 34
We’d finally arrived at Wilbur Vickery’s General Store, where our friend Kingman usually presides over the proceedings, and I was frankly eager to have a word with the voluminous cat. Often when we’re starved for information Kingman is the one who can provide that telling clue.
And as luck would have it there seemed to be some kind of impromptu cat choir meeting taking place outside Wilbur’s store: Kingman was there, of course, but also Buster, the barber’s Main Coon, Tigger, the plumber’s cat, Shanille, cat choir’s conductor, Misty, the electrician’s cat, Tom, the butcher’s cat, Shadow, who belongs to Franklin Beaver, the guy who runs the hardware store, and Missy, the landscaper’s tabby.
“Oh, hey, fellas,” said Kingman when we joined the meeting. “Shanille here has some exciting news to share.”
Shanille was positively glowing as she turned to us. “The mall is happening—it’s actually happening! Father Reilly has been asked to bless the first stone and he said yes!”
“So is that good news or bad news?” I asked.
“Good news for me,” said Clarice. “It means the downtown area of Hampton Cove will turn into a ghost town and the streets will be littered with garbage and there will be more rats than people around.” She smiled an icy smile. “And I do love me a juicy rat.”
“You love rats?” asked Buster.
“To eat, I mean,” said Clarice with a distinctly cruel grin.
Buster shivered, and so did the rest of the small company.
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating, Clarice,” said Shanille. “The mall will attract plenty of tourists, and the downtown area will thrive and local businesses will boom!”
“Boom as in go bust, you mean,” said Clarice.
“Oh, don’t listen to this Gloomy Gus,” said Shanille. “Father Reilly says it’s going to be just great. A brand-new future for our town!”
“It also means that Tex is going to be rich,” said Brutus. “He’s got a plot of land the mall developers want to buy,” he explained to the others.
“Ooh, so you’re going to be loaded soon,” said Kingman. “I wish Wilbur had thought of getting himself a piece of land when he had the chance. Then he could probably retire and we could move to Florida or some other place nice and warm.”
“I thought you didn’t like the heat?” I asked.
“I don’t mind the heat as long as there are plenty of great-looking females around,” said Kingman with a shrug. “And something tells me that Florida’s got some of the finest females in the country.”
“Oh, don’t be so vulgar, Kingman,” said Shanille reproachfully. “Besides, your human will be making a fortune soon, when all those tourists start coming into town.”
“You think?” said Kingman, his face lighting up.
“Of course! This mall is going to put Hampton Cove on the map. We’re all going to be rich—not just Marge and Tex—everyone!”
“I want to be rich,” said Tigger with a wistful smile. “Being rich sounds nice.”