Chapter 17: Dale the Cat
LARA decided to stay living in the outbuilding for the time being.
“If that’s what you want to do, then just do it,” said Arthur. “I’m happy as long as you’re doing what makes you happy.”
“Thank you, Arthur,” said Olivia. “And it sounds like Lara wants to learn how to cook on top of learning about medicinal herbs and illnesses.”
“Seems like she’s really taken a liking to you.”
“And I like her. She’s like a little sister.”
The two of them were sitting on a bench in the garden. A hedgehog was in front of them, using its snout and forelegs to dig through the dirt in search of bugs to eat. This was the mother hedgehog who’d had the baby hedgehogs before.
Yum, yum, yum.
Hedgehogs in this country went into hibernation when the snow piled up. Right now, they were focused on nothing but eating in order to store fat, eating as much as they could while they could. Olivia gently picked up the hedgehog in her hand and looked at it.
The hedgehog looked around on her hand then muttered, No bugs. Its previously happy mood dropped sharply into sorrow.
“I’m sorry. Here, take your time eating,” she said, returning the hedgehog to the vegetable patch before joining Arthur in watching the birds at the bird feeder.
Six sparrows bustled about eating vegetable scraps, breadcrumbs, and toasted pork fat. The pork fat was a huge hit among the birds.
A tit waited on a branch nearby, staying a long time as it waited for the sparrows to finish eating.
There was a strict order in which the wild birds could feed at the bird feeder. Those with higher standing because of their numbers or size got priority. The lower-standing ones had to just wait until it was their turn, and it was perfectly expected for a stronger bird to interrupt weaker ones.
What should I add to the feeder if it runs out before it’s the tit’s turn? thought Olivia, as she started to say, “I couldn’t stop myself from crying when Lara said she thought she wasn’t human before she came here. I think I’m starting to understand how my grandparents felt when they took me in. They probably felt like I did now, which was why they poured so much love into a complete stranger.”
As he listened, Arthur visited the vivid memory of the first time he ever had cherry tea. “I know my situation isn’t the same as Lara’s, since I’m the one who decided to be a mercenary, but I feel like I understand how she feels. I remember how shocked I was when you told me how you made cherry tea. It was crazy to think there was a way of life so good for the soul.”
“Really? You never mentioned that to me.”
“You gather the cherries that drop to the ground, dry them, then mix them with tea and drink them. To me, that’s such a fulfilling life, it seems like a dream. I didn’t tell you? Guess I never do say enough.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t need to know every single little thing about you.”
Looking a little surprised, Arthur turned his gaze from the bird feeder to Olivia.
“It doesn’t matter what sort of past you had, or what sort of person you were before,” she said. “I love you for who you are now.”
“Urgh… I don’t think I can find anything that sounds that nice to say back.”
“Hee hee. That’s fine, too. I even love you for not being the most eloquent person in the world.”
Arthur’s gray hair had been quite short when he’d first come to the restaurant, but it’d grown fairly long now. He raked both hands through his hair, his expression a little troubled and a little happy.
Olivia smiled as she smoothed his tousled hair back into place, feeling truly happy.
Mate, came a thought.
“Hm? Who was that?” asked Olivia.
“What’s wrong? Did you hear someone?” Arthur responded.
“Yeah. They just thought, ‘Mate.’ There’s someone nearby watching us.”
They both looked around them, but there were no animals that stood out as being the one whose thought Olivia had heard.
“Where are they?” wondered Olivia.
Here.
“Where? I want to see your face,” she said to the voice.
Here.
“What? Where?”
“Olivia, could it be this guy?” ventured Arthur. He was crouched by the side of the horses’ barn.
Found me.
“Who is it?” asked Olivia.
Mates come. Mates lovey-dovey.
On top of a sunny rock beside the barn was a black-and-white cat, its left eye shut the whole time.
“Hello. Is your eye hurt?” inquired Olivia.
Forever like this.
“Oh. Where’s your home?”
Have no home.
Olivia was certain there were no stray cats living in the area. She looked through his memories to figure out what was going on. The cat grew attached to a man who sometimes fed him, then hopped in the man’s wagon and traveled with him. But apparently the man wasn’t that attached to the cat. The cat went out to play and the man left without waiting or going to look for the cat.
The cat spent days walking along the road, sleeping in the grass until he arrived here. He was very hungry.
“If you have no home, would you like to live here? We do have a dog and two goats, though,” said Olivia.
Here warm? Have food?
“It is warm, and we do have food. But if you’re going to live here, we’ll have to give you a bath.”
Hate bath.
“But you’ve got ticks all over you. I can’t let you in the house like that. I’ll give you some chicken to eat if you let me wash you.”
Chicken! Chicken!
The black-and-white cat broke out into loud yowls.
“All right. I’ll get some warm water ready. Then it’s bath time.”
Hate bath!
While he did insist he hated baths, he didn’t run when Olivia picked him up. To Arthur, she said, “Bring the hot water from the stove over to the well for me, would you? And a bar of soap. Oh, and the lotion for ticks!”
Arthur replied with a quick, “Sure thing,” and went right into the restaurant to get the hot water.
They washed the cat outside. Olivia wanted to get the ticks off him right away, but you might end up leaving their head on if you just pulled them off. There was a trick to getting them off: You had to slather them in a lotion with a medicine they hated, then steadily pull them off as they started to move. Her grandmother taught her that.
Arthur watched her work, then went to get a burning log from the stove, which he used to burn the ticks one after another. That homemade anti-tick lotion was a necessity for Olivia, considering they lived on the edge of the forest.
Olivia washed the cat with the bar of soap, rinsed him several times in warm water, then wiped him down with a dry towel, transforming the once dirty cat into a fuzzy, nice-smelling kitty.
Chicken, yum! Chicken, yummy!
The cat loudly devoured the boiled chicken. Rob saw and thought, Chicken good. Want eat chicken… which made Olivia chuckle and give him a little.
The cat’s hackles rose when Rob came close, but he turned back to focus on his chicken once he realized Rob didn’t mean any harm.
Once the chicken was gone, Olivia stroked the cat while he cleaned his face, then she said to Rob, “Rob, be nice to this cat, all right?”
Cat friend?
“Yes. This cat is now your friend.”
Cat friend. Protect cat.
“Thank you, Rob. You’re such a good boy.”
Rob grinned wide at the praise.
Lara had gone out to Marlowe today. The moment she heard today was Arthur’s day off, she said she’d take over the responsibility of buying things and took her carriage out to Marlowe. Olivia wasn’t sure if she was trying to be considerate or if she just wanted to see the town. It was probably a little of both.
Olivia picked up the now soft cat and took him to meet the goats in the barn. “This kitty is going to be part of the family from now on. Be nice to him.”
Hate cats.
Hate cats.
“Don’t say that, Pete. And Pepe, don’t copy everything Pete says. There won’t be mice coming in here if there’s a cat.”
Pete hated mice so his attitude immediately flipped to, I let cat stay. Pepe always copied Pete no matter what, which made Olivia feel better.
Olivia sat on the bench in the garden with the cat in her lap. She stroked his back and he began to purr.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
Patches. Flopsy. Squirt. Dale. Deety.
Inside the cat’s mind flowed images of human faces paired with names. He’d been called various names at various homes where he’d gotten food.
“What about Dale?” she said.
Dale. Old man. Dale. Fish.
The old man who’d called the cat Dale had given him fish. Where could that have been? Near a lake? Or perhaps very far away in a town near the sea? Olivia couldn’t tell from the memories in the cat’s head.
“Dale, you can’t go into the restaurant or kitchen. Understand?”
Why no go?
“Some people don’t like cats, and my customers will stop coming if there’s cat hair in the food.”
No good if no customers come?
“If no customers come, I won’t be able to give you meat to eat.”
No eat meat is bad.
“I thought so. So, you’re allowed to play on the second floor, the stairs, and out in the garden.”
I like garden.
“Man, that seems handy,” said Arthur. “Wish I could talk to cats and dogs.” He seemed jealous while he guessed what the conversation was about based on the parts Olivia said.
They spread a blanket on a windowsill on the second floor, and Dale settled down, his eyes starting to close.
It was finally the tit’s turn to eat at the bird feeder in the garden. Olivia sneaked chopped dried blueberries onto the feeder for it.