Chapter 31

You never saw a CPA (Child Protection Agency) agent switch targets so fast in your life. Junior was already wishing Mom had dissolved that bureaucracy ... because she was going to be dealing with them in a few months. Bureaucracies come and go ... but the bureaucrats live on. Some people couldn’t mind their own business ... they had to stick their nose in mine. Right now ... Miss Bulldog Lover was already fixing to bedevil me, Surprise Me Flintkote.

“You. Mrs ... or is it Miss ... I see no wedding or engagement ring ... have you taken care of your prenatal obligations?” A pause. I was about to confess that I hadn’t when I lost my chance. “Been to the doctors? ... registered for Lamaze Classes? ... registered for WIC Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children?”

And the yellow tom cat wound its way around Tyche legs.

“Murrow,” said the tom ... and butted Tyke’s knees.

“Murrow,” replied Tyche.

The cat ... not really a yellow tom, but more of a speckled brown and muted orange ... stood on hind legs and stretched. He was taller by a head than the girl ... and Tyche was tall for four.

“Ooo, you are a big one,” Tyche said.

He reached a paw and patted her cheek. She patted his in return.

“Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“If he follows you home you can keep him.”

“Thanks,” she looked the cat in the eye, “Do you have a name?”

“Morrow,” but ... it was more Murray than Morrow.

“Murray?”

He tapped her cheek.

“Murray it is,” “Mom, meet Murray.”

Murray ambled over to Zo and stood. He was taller.

“Murray?”

He tapped her cheek, got down and offered a paw.

“Pleased to meet you, Murray.”

They shook ... no ... really ... shook ... like a well trained dog.

In like manner, he was introduced to the family and crew ... but he growled and hissed at the Child Protection Agency agent.

The Ludington Animal Control paddy wagon pulled to a stop. The uniformed driver leaned out the window.

“Is that your cat?”

“He is now,” Tyche said.

“Get him registered, tagged and shot ... by Monday at 4:30 or I’ll have to Pound him.”

“Where do I do that?”

“Animal Shelter.”

“Where?”

“Airport.”

“That’s a big cat ... a Bengal, I think.” He rolled up his window and drove off.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Tyche?”

“Buy a car,” she said.

“What kind?”

“Don’t care ... something big ... there are a lot of us.”

All the auto dealers were closed ... Sunday.

Murray bumped Tyche’s left leg and pushed her butt.

“I’ll go with Murray ... he’s pushing me.”

Sure enough ... around the corner and down the alley there was a Wesco Convenience Store ... and parked in the alley but facing the street was an old tour bus ... like 1940’s old ... with a FOR SALE sign on the windshield. Tyche went in the store ... so did Murray.

The clerk was stocking the cigarette rack.

“Tell me about the bus?” she said.

“Runs, drives, stops, goes, passed inspection, Fourteen hundred bucks,” said the clerk ... and then he turned around. There was nobody there ... just a brown and orange cat with his paws on the counter. The clerk looked at the cat ... the look was ‘I just talked to a cat?’

“Down here,” came the voice.

He looked over the edge and Tyche said, “Hi.”

“Hi, your cat?”

“So far ... I think I’m his human.”

“Cats are like that.”

“Yeah ... they are. Tell me more about the bus.”

“Gets terrible mileage in town.”

“Let me go get my dad ... do you have cat food?”

“We do ... canned and dry.”

Tyche said, “I’m Tyche Selene Flintkote.”

“Johnny Masters.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

She put two dollars on the counter. “Feed him?”

JW bought the bus.