Only Me Mam OR, Mr. Stinks Comes To Dinner -- Whichever Title You Prefer

4 November 2010

Story #324

R. Linda:

It poured all day long. Was dark and dreary except in our little kitchen. The barnbrack came out of the cooker all hot and steamy, the smell wafting up to me loft. Tonya lit a fire in the kitchen fireplace, and Mam placed pats of butter over the bread slices to melt them. Me Da was already in there, and by the time I took me chair, the tea was being poured. The two wee ones were asleep on the couch in the lounge, and the rain pounding outside made a lovely homey setting.

Even the animals had curled up as we talked softly among ourselves. It was like Christmas to me, all of us around the table, not a care in the world, enjoying a dish from me childhood. We must have sat there for nearly two hours just enjoying ourselves when we slowly drifted our separate ways, which usually happens in families. 

I returned to the loft, Da to click through stations on the telly while Mam picked up some knitting and joined him. Tonya went off to make the now-awake wee ones a snack.

At about 5:30, Tonya called me and said everyone below had decided it was a fine night for a pizza. Would I mind going out and picking one up? I said I'd be happy to, and Da piped up that he'd go along to keep me company. I was thinking to meself, yeah, sure, you'd be hoping Lizzie is still around. 

Anyway, I ordered two pizzas, put on me coat and hat, and, with Da in tow, we went off to get the pies.

When we returned, Tonya was upstairs with the two boyos, getting them to clean up their toys, so I called her, that we were back, and I left Da taking off his coat while I went to deposit the pizzas on the kitchen table.

Mam, I saw as I was walking towards the kitchen. She was standing at the open kitchen door calling, "Kitty, come on, kitty, it be too wet out there fer ye. Kitty, kitty."

I thought as I passed the couch I had seen our cat asleep on top of it. I turned, and sure enough, Mr. Kits, our tuxedo cat, was sitting on the back of the couch looking towards the open door and Mam. As I went to open me mouth to tell her that Mr. Kits was in, I had a holy shite moment. Mam, who did not have her glasses on, called Mr. Stinks in, and HE WAS COMING. She was holding a piece of chicken to entice him when me body went into shock, and I lost me voice, so horrified was I. I almost dropped the pizzas in me indecision to go forward and try to close the door quick or run in the opposite direction.

Too late! The skunk came in, and I saw Mam nudge his arse with her foot to get him all the way in so she could close the door. I stood there quite still, watching the skunk go for the cat food. Mr. Kits was also watching and stealthily started to move down the couch top. I knew where he was going, so I grabbed the struggling feline and crushed the pizzas as I tried to hold on to his less-than-happy self. 

"Da, help me, Da, NOW!"

He threw his coat down and took the pizzas from me as I wrestled with the angry cat.

I knew the Newfie was upstairs with Tonya and the boyos, because he was barking at us from the loft, and the setter was on the front porch waiting to come in; I could hear her scratching at the door. All this was going through me head at once as Da took one look in the direction I was looking, then another and then he looked at me, his eyebrows raised higher than I'd ever seen them, and we stood there looking at each other like HOLY CRIPPERS!

I started moving back, and he did, too. I called Tonya not to come down and to put the Newfie up BECAUSE we had a skunk in the house. Me Mam, meanwhile, was out in the kitchen getting a fresh bowl of water for Mr. Stinks.

"Mam," I whispered loudly in her direction so as not to get Mr. Stink's attention, "Mam!" I held up the struggling Mr. Kits for her to see. She squinted at me.

"If that's YOUR cat, who be this?" And she nudged the skunk again with her foot. I was like, NOOOOOOOO, DO NOT DO THAT!

"IT IS MR. STINKS, he is . . . "

That's as far as I got because she looked down at the skunk and said, "Aw and fer sure ye be the neighbourhood hooligan, belong to none, but come fer a meal when it suits ye."

Me father whispered, "Gabriel, I am putting these pies down. I think me old heart be about to jump out of me chest; I do. What can we do about? . . ." And that was as far as he got because we both stood stock still as we watched me near-blind Mam gently reach down and pet Mr. Stinks. 

"Please, God, don't let her pick him up," I said to meself, me heart was pounding. If that thing lets loose, not only would we have me stinky little Mam getting rabies shots, but we'd not be able to live in the house, and we'd lose everything for the smell!

How could such a lovely rainy afternoon of cosy and comfy family time turn into an evening of sheer bizarre abject horror with Mam, who wouldn't hurt a fly, kowtowing to a skunk she thought was a cat? 

Go ahead, I know you are laughing your arse off, but it wasn't funny. It was a time of terror for Da and me as we watched with saucer-eyed wonder to see if Mam would actually pick Mr Stinks up or not. 

"Mam, DO NOT pick that cat up. It isn't the kind of cat you think it is." I said.

"Wot?" She threw a glance of irritation at me as she started to wash the pots and pans in the sink.

"Mary, that be a skunk!" Me Da said quickly. "Ye, let in a skunk!"

Mam was too busy crooning to Mr. Stinks while washing the pots, and Mr. Stinks was making a chattering noise that made me very uneasy. The sink's running water was too loud for her to hear what we said as we were too far away, but not that far. We couldn't watch the action in the kitchen. Somehow, Mam interpreted the skunk chattering as a cat purring! Tonya had heard us. She had come down the stairs after leaving the kiddies up with the Newfie. 

"Oh dear," she said, looking ashen-faced at Mam in the kitchen. "Gabe, what do we do?"

Ton and Da looked at me like I was Mr. Answer Man. I didn't know. I'd never been in this kind of situation before. Just what does one do in a case like this? I don't know of anyone that has been subject to a skunk in their kitchen . . . WITH their very own Mam. 

I ventured closer, just me the other two were not moving. Mr. Kits was by this time yowling to get out of me grasp, and to be perfectly honest, me focus was so much on keeping him from it, and the skunk AND Mam that I was somewhat oblivious to the raw meat me hands were fast becoming from the claws that really wanted a go at Mr. Stinks. 

I stood two feet from the kitchen doorway.

"Mam!" I whispered theatrically, but nothing happened; she was still singing to the "cat" and sloshing the pots around under running water.

"For God's sake, Mam!" I shouted. 

She turned and looked at me with surprise. I pointed at the "Let me down now, I want to get at that thing" cat. She took her glasses from the counter, stuck them on her face, and looked at me and Mr. Kits. THEN, like in slow motion, she took the glasses off and threw them over her shoulder at me, "Gabriel put the cat down so he can finish his dinner."

I was speechless. Da had come up and told me to give him the cat, and he'd take care of that. All I had to do was take care of Mam and Mr. Stinks. Thanks Da!

So off he went, getting bitten and scratched by a hissing and very angry Mr. Kits, who ended up in the front hall closet. I'm sure that went over big. I had a ridiculous thought that Mr. Kits, in his anger, would spend his closet time shredding me leather jacket, Tonya's prized cashmere sweater and everything and anything else in that closet. Me mind was gone. I couldn't think. All I could think of was the cat shredding clothing.

I decided to hold up me bloody, shredded hands and get her attention that way. But as I did, she looked down at Mr. Stinks, who had had his fill by this time and was ambling (that's the only way to describe him) towards the door. Me Mam said, "Aw kit, do ye have to go out? Ye certainly polished off that dinner ye did, good kitty." And she opened the door and once again, with me heart in me throat she gently nudged Mr. Stinks out the door with her foot. 

I ran in and made sure the door was closed, and Mr. Stinks was OUT. Mam was surprised at me behaviour and stood there looking at me like I was a nutter. Then she looked at me hands, "Wot ye do there, Gabe?"

"The cat . . ." I started, but she interrupted me.

"You know when an animal be hungry, not to mess with it." And she went back to the pots.

Tonya stood leaning on the door frame and said in a quiet, calm voice, "Do you think you should tell her?"

"No," Me Da said, "Better let it be, she won't believe ya anyways." 

Tonya went back upstairs to check on the boyos, and I let the other dog in before she found Mr. Stinks, and we had an additional problem on our hands. I had forgotten entirely about Mr. Kits in the closet. An hour or so later, Mam was sitting knitting on the couch when she heard some caterwauling and asked Da what "that sound" was. He was so engrossed in his puzzle that he hadn't paid attention until then. His eyes went big, and he went to the closet without a word and let a very upset Mr. Kits out. So, you know, Mr. Kits didn't shred anything, we were lucky.

"Well, I'll be . . . how'd he git in there?" Mam asked no one in particular. "I just let you out an hour ago." She said to the very pissed-off cat.

I had walked in just then and shook me head at Da, who nodded. I sat down and flicked on the telly as Mam looked at me, band-aid-clad hands, and then at her husband's. 

"Ye both should know better, poor kitty. Ye manhandle him, and ye see wot happens when ye don't pay attention."

OH, FAMOUS LAST WORDS!

Gabe

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