Showing posts with label cats with guns?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats with guns?. Show all posts

06 November, 2010

There's a plot afoot

6 November 2010
326

R. Linda:


So, it's been a wee bit of an exciting morning for me Mam anyway, it didn't get exciting for yours truly until a little later. She got hold of a newspaper, an old one, and was reading about the Christmas underwear bomber. She was in a tear over that. Seems she did not know about it. I asked me Da if she had been living under a rock because that was old news. I told you she be losing her mind, and the last time she stayed with us, it was alarming at first, and then mildly alarming and then we weren't sure she was doing things on purpose just to get a rise out of us. I don't truly know what the deal is.

She had found the article in the firewood bin where I keep bits of newspaper to help start the hearth fires. It wasn't twenty minutes later, she was back rummaging around in the bin that she found the article on the would-be Times Square bomber. This had her in a tizzy it did. She was waving it around, and saying, "Really Gabriel, we are doing this again? Again?"

I took it away and told her that was old too, and to stay out of the wood bin. Shortly after, I walked into the lounge to find she had tuned into CNN and was avidly watching the news. She was now on about the engine on the Qantas Airbus and did I think it was a terrorist action or just happened, she wanted to know. I told her I did not know, and that she should turn the telly off and find something else to occupy her. Well, she wasn't going to, she was all upset over this and the other and it made her fidgety and morose.

A half hour later, I found me Da had turned off the telly and there she was scooting around the lounge looking out the windows at the woods outside. I ignored it, as much as I could and I told her I was going into the village and I'd stop at the bakery and buy some macaroons (she loves them) and was there anything else she might like. She grabbed hold of me and told me I wasn't going out of the "hoose" because it wasn't safe.

Thinking she meant Mr. Stinks was out and about I assured her I was perfectly fine.

"No, ye aren't Gabriel, ye never know who be out there in wait."

"Waiting for what?" Asked I.

"Waiting to scrape ya up!" She was wringing her hands, and this concerned me.

"Ma, this is Peterborough, I be sure I be safe HERE. There be hardly any people and anything to blow up, be a waste of time." I said soothingly.

'No, ye don't understand, I had a conversation this morning with the cat . . ." She began but I cut her off.

"Ma, come on the cat? Ye need to get a grip."

"No, ye know I can talk to the wee buggers and he said . . ."

"Ma, come on! I'll be back in a jiff, you mind Da and I'll get you some nice fresh macaroons." And I started to get me jacket on but she was persistent. Meanwhile, me Da was leaning out of his chair watching us with a frown on his face. I thought perhaps he wanted to go with me so I told him to get his coat and hat I was leaving.

"Em Gabe, maybe ye should listen to yer Mam on this."

I was gobsmacked. Was he too, paranoid of going out of the house? I live in the boonies, the backwoods, the sticks, the rural country, the out-of-the-way place certainly, there were no Taliban sniping in the woods, me neighbour Lois would be all over them like the Bubonic Plague she would, and this was just too ridiculous.

"I be tellin' ye Gabriel, it isn't safe! There's two of them out there." Mam persisted.

"What?" I looked at her and then out the window. I saw nothing, then I saw movement in the brush, but I couldn't tell if I actually saw movement or me mind had me now. "I see nought," I said looking at her and watching me Da hunker down moving a bit of Irish lace to the side with his pencil to peer out.

"Oh they're out there," he said ominously.

"Who?" I asked getting impatient.

"Yours and his friend, I don't know the others' names, but they both be out there."

Oh my God! I was living in the nuthouse with two loonies. I was near to pulling me hair out, but since you told me I have a bald spot somewhere, I resisted the impulse and stood there counting to ten.

"There be a 99% chance they be plotting to kill ya, from what they told yer, Mam. And I think I be stayin' put they be none to happy with the likes of me either and then . . . " Me Da was mumbling to me about the "plot" and now it was not to do me bodily harm, he was now 99% sure, that if I stepped out the door, I'd be no more because two terrorists where hiding in me woods and I was prime target meat for some unknown reason. I know it was only short seconds, but me mind was racing through me work, trying to reckon who I pissed off that had a gun and pissed them off well enough they'd want to put an end to me. I report on local news, I don't know any terrorists or anyone who'd be a threat to me breathing air!

Da turned from the window to me Mam and said, "With nine between 'em' that's an eighteen to one chance he'd make it. Don't like the odds Mary, I don't," he shook his head sorrowfully.

"WHAT are you talking about NOW?" I demanded losing it.

They looked at me and exchanged knowing glances. That was it, I had had it, I was leaving with or without me Da, he could watch over the loony that was fast becoming me, paranoid Mam. I opened the door, and she quickly shut it, he grabbed me and shook his finger at me in rebuff.

"No ya don't," he whispered angrily at me. "Ye never could mind ya couldn't but THIS time ya will if I have anythin' to say about it!"

"Listen to me sonny, there be a 99% chance Mr. Kits be plotting your demise. He told me he was none too happy with ya for closin' em in the closet the other night and not lettin' em go after that other cat. He's got a friend, that tiger cat lives up the hill to help 'em because he says yer too big to jump all on his own. They both be out dere in da bushes, if ya look closely ya can see em!" Me Mam shook me by the coat lapels to emphasise her words. "Ya know I can talk ta cats and yer hay me word on it I speak the truth!"

I stood there dumbfounded, me mouth hanging open in disbelief I actually heard what she said. I looked out the window where me Da had once again lifted back the curtain slowly and carefully to attract no notice, and he pointed to a place just off from the front steps. There I could see slight movement, a greyish thing moving stealthily like a snake and a pair of yellow eyes just behind the grey watching the door just above in the more dense brush.

I know what you're thinking, I know, I know, I know, and please stop being so amused. But, it was odd there were two cats out there, one was me chemical spill neighbour's and the other was me own Mr. Kits. What they were doing I had notta clue, but they were being sneaky about whatever it was. Add to this, me Mam can talk with cats, she be the cat whisperer back home, and the felines love her. Even skunks it seems if the other night is any indication! So, when she says things that they tell her, she usually be spot on. I know, I know, you think I lost it too, but if it wasn't true of her, I'd say, yeah she's a nutter and would have walked on out not fearing any cat attack, BUT, not this time. I squinted hard and watched the two of them as they crept low to the ground toward the front stoop. Me Da had left us and returned with his binoculars he uses for bird watching. He handed them to me and I put them to me eyes and watched in horror as the two sneaky felines belly-crawled through the underbrush just shy of the steps.

PLEASE STOP LAUGHING.

I know you think I be as nuts as me parents, and maybe I be. But I wasn't venturing out there. No, no, those cats looked all business and the way they looked at the house I could see they had it in for yours truly. I waited them out I did. I took me hat and coat off, and watched them through the binoculars, creeping around out there until finally, they got tired of waiting and left. Then I hurriedly got me things and rushed to me motor. As I pulled down the driveway I saw the grey tiger in front of me stalking on home and roaring me engine to scare it, it jumped to the side and I swear R. Linda it gave me the finger as I drove away.

I could not believe I was acting the way I was. Once I was away from the house and no longer under the influence of Irish maniacs, I realised how bizarre it all was to have given credence to a plot by me own Mr. Kits to kill me off, well, that was INSANE! I ran me errands and returned home, but I was somewhat uneasy when I exited me motor. I looked around me, all was quiet, the wind was rattling the old leaves on the trees and the brush waved along the edge of the drive. I saw no one, no cat, no dogs, nothing. I walked to the stoop and stopped in me tracks. There sitting by the door was Mr. Kits, his eyes were yellow slits in his head, he was sitting there watching me, not a muscle moved, he looked evil. He stared at me as if to say, "I dare ya Gabriel to put a foot on this stoop."

I stared back at him, I blinked first! Damn me for that, and when I did he started to move towards me, but the door opened and there was me Tonya, baby in arms, "What are you doing out here Gabriel, are you going to stand out there in the wind all day, or come on in?"

I moved forward quickly and just as I made the door, a clawed fist came out and cuffed me almost tripping me inside. ME SAINTED MAM WAS RIGHT! There was a cat plot afoot, or else how do you explain the cuffing I got to try and trip me by Mr. Kits? I be now convinced I be the focus of a feline plot because once in the kitchen I sat down to a fresh cup of joe and opened the cookie box. As I went to pick up a cookie, I felt eyes on me. I turned round slowly to see directly behind me head, Mr. Kits sitting on the counter, tail going like a rattlesnake, shaking it at me, his eyes narrow and displeased, his mouth open. I got up quickly before he jumped me head, but me Mam was there, she swiped up Mr. Kits from the countertop and locked him out of the kitchen. Tonya was all in wonder at us. She didn't say a word, just stood there looking from one to the other as if trying to figure us out. 

"Don't ask," I said to her. 

"OK." She was sceptical, but she sat down to cookies and coffee, shaking her head as if I was one bolt short a nut. 

The three of us, who knew the plot said nothing about it. We talked louder to drown out the scratching and cat meowing to get in, and it was a fierce rattling of that door, that cat is strong I tell ya. Tonya was now suspicious of us AND the cat. She got up to open the door for it, but I got up and blocked her way completely forgetting there was a crack under the door big enough for Mr. Kits to put a paw through and he was scratching at me ankles. 

Me Mam got her to sit back down and told her "WE'D" tell her everything. I was not liking this, because Tonya, who is a logical thinker would not buy into the Death by Cat idea and we three would look totally crazy to her and me mind started racing again, and I pictured me and me parents in an institution being guarded by cat people and I could hear meowing and scratching and cat fighting, but I snapped meself out of it and started laughing like the loon I was fast becoming. What else was there left to do? Me ankles were bloodied and me mind was gone and here I have until New Year's to sink deeper into the insanity of the Irish couple who now share me home day in and day out. I realised that before they got here, me speech was becoming less Irish, and me mind was healthy, but now . . . I be losing it and becoming engulfed in stories of wee folk, and leprechauns, plotting cats with machine guns, and crazy parents telling me I'm not well. In addition to having a bald spot somewhere, and being accused of smaller feet than at first thought, and being the owner of a big arse, I can add cra-ra-zee to the mix you have going for me.

Oh commit me now before it gets any worse.

Gabe
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