Free Cat Tales by George H. Scithers Page A

it. Financed by a loan from a well-to-do aunt who had considered it a wise investment in her niece’s future. Angelique had credited her cat Thomas with its discovery. “You knew exactly what I wanted, Thomas. Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” Ben laughed at Angelique’s attributing Thomas with an uncanny nature, and she laughed with him. Thomas’s leading Angelique to the site — albeit in a merry chase — remained a puzzle, though. According to Angelique, the site was far beyond Thomas’s territory, and it was unlikely he’d been there before.
    â€œAre you sure you want to do this,” Ben had asked, surveying the broken windows, the sagging ceiling, and warped floor. “Oh yes,” Angelique had answered, a fierce, determined gleam in her eye. “This is only the beginning, the first big step.” And he’d helped her rip out the inside of that place and rebuild it to her specifications .With Thomas supervising from his perch on a ladder, meowing his encouragement, ensuring they always broke for lunch.
    Once, when Ben and Thomas were alone, Angelique running an errand, Ben had turned round and found Thomas sitting on his perch staring at him with narrowed, unblinking eyes. The hairs on the back of Ben’s neck had pricked. Was the cat more than he seemed? Then Thomas had flicked a paw at a passing moth and became nothing more than a cat again.
    â€œLook, what do you want from me?” the bartender demanded of Ben. “I’m the hired help, okay? I started six months ago.” He went back to washing glasses. “The place was Angel’s then.”
    Ben turned, pushed open the door, and stepped back into the graveled parking lot. He’d been gone too long, he thought, he’d returned too late. His reasons for leaving seemed trivial now.
    â€œI need to get away from here,” he’d told Angelique. Had it been three years ago? Her future was assured by then, her café more popular than even he could have imagined. “This town’s too small, and there’s so much out there I want to see.” He’d held her close, this home-town girl who was so special. “I can’t promise I’ll be back,” he’d said, not wanting her to feel she had to wait for him. “I understand,” she’d whispered in his ear. As he’d left she’d stood in the door-way of her little café, her beloved cat Thomas cradled in her arms, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
    His first few months on the road had been exhilarating.
    Long stretches of empty highway that disappeared into spectacular sunsets. Azure, snow-capped ranges hovering on a distant horizon. White surf surging against a rocky shoreline. Big cities with bright lights and their fast-paced lifestyle. New places, new faces, new experiences. They’d help blot out thoughts of Angelique.
    The months kept sliding by while he moved about the map, taking one job after the other. His latest occupation was driving transports long distance. As the number of miles accumulated, though, and more time slipped by, he found himself, inexplicably, growing increasingly restless. The urge to move on hit him hardest in the evenings. The feeling that down the road or in the next town, he’d find something bigger, better, more satisfying.
    W HEN HE spotted a ginger cat looking up at his hotel window one night, “Thomas!” burst out of him so unexpectedly, it surprised even himself. But the jammed window refused to budge, and by the time he’d raced downstairs, there was no sign of the cat. “Thomas?”
    He laughed at himself, then. Thomas was hundreds of miles behind him. The cat had simply been another ginger cat. Ben shook his head over his inexplicable reaction and returned to his room, blaming the ache in his chest on the pizza he’d bolted for lunch.
    He was eating supper in a roadside tavern the next time he saw a ginger cat. He