Six Cats A Slayin'

My eyes took a few seconds to adjust. I set down the bags beside my feet and gazed around the hall in stupefaction.

The banisters of the stairs had green and gold garlands woven through the balusters and twined around the newel posts. At regular intervals a small wreath had been affixed to a baluster. More garlands, red and gold this time, hung on the walls, strung with twinkling Christmas lights. Ornaments that sparkled in the lights hung from the garlands. All that was needed to complete the picture was the Christmas tree that we would decorate tomorrow night.

I finally saw Stewart standing in the living room doorway, watching me and smiling broadly. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, a bit overcome by it all. “How did you manage to do this? Was I gone that long?”

Stewart laughed. “I didn’t do it all by myself. Azalea helped, and so did Laura and Frank.”

Laura emerged from the living room holding my grandson. She laughed. “Oh, Dad, your expression is priceless.”

Frank and Azalea came out of the kitchen and approached us.

“Thank you all,” I said. “This is a wonderful, beautiful surprise.” I surveyed their faces, and they all were smiling.

“It was Stewart’s idea,” Frank said. “His design, too, so he gets most of the credit. We were only the worker bees.” He made a buzzing sound, and Laura laughed again.

I looked at Stewart, who I had come to think of more as the younger brother I never had than as a mere boarder. I walked over to him and pulled him into a hug, and he squeezed me back.

“Thank you,” I said softly as I released him.

“Merry Christmas,” Stewart replied. “I thought we needed some Christmas spirit around here.”

“There’s plenty of it here now.” I went next to Laura to kiss her cheek and have a look at my grandson. Charles Franklin Salisbury had recently turned six months old, and he was a healthy, happy infant. At the moment he was sound asleep in his mother’s arms.

“How long have you been planning this?” I asked.

“For a week,” Stewart said. “I wanted to wait until as close to Christmas Eve as possible to put everything up, and I counted on you doing your last-minute shopping this year the way you usually do.”

I grinned ruefully. “I guess I’m more predictable than I realized.”

“But in a good way,” Frank said with an answering grin.

“Where is Diesel?” I asked, suddenly aware of his absence.

“He’s in the corral with the babies,” Laura said. “Once he made sure baby Charlie is thriving, he wanted in there.”

“He sure does love those little ones,” Azalea said. “He’s going to miss them.”

“I know he will,” I said, “but they’re not going anywhere yet. Until I find out who left them on the doorstep, they’re going to stay here.”

“No luck with the video?” Frank asked.

“The cameras are working fine,” I said. “But the child is one step ahead of me, if not two or three.” I heard loud, peremptory meowing, and I knew Diesel wanted out of the cage. “Let’s all go into the kitchen. I’ll fetch Diesel, and then I’ll tell you how clever this child is.”

“Sounds good,” Stewart said. “I could use some coffee.”

“It’s ready and waiting.” Azalea headed for the kitchen. Laura and Frank followed, with Stewart not far behind.

I walked into the living room to see Diesel standing at the door of the cage, pushing against it with one large paw. “I’m coming,” I said. “I’m flattered that you’re so anxious to see me.”

Diesel trilled in response. I opened the door, taking care that none of the kittens sneaked out with Diesel. “I’ll come back and spend some time with you in a little while,” I told them. Ramses meowed indignantly at being left behind.

In the kitchen we found Stewart, Laura, and Frank drinking coffee. Azalea held the baby, crooning softly to him. I caught snatches of “Away in a Manger” as she moved around the kitchen with him. Diesel followed Azalea’s progress. He wanted to make sure, I supposed, that she was taking good care of his little buddy.

I found a mug full of coffee waiting for me at my usual place, and I slipped into my chair.

“Tell us about this clever child,” Laura said. “I’m really curious.”

I stirred cream and sugar into my coffee. “The cameras have caught her on video twice. The first time she had the hood of her sweatshirt or coat pulled so closely around her face that I couldn’t see anything else. I thought I’d be clever myself and set a trap for her.” I paused for a couple of sips of coffee, then explained the so-called trap I had set. “About half an hour ago, maybe a little more, while I was at the sheriff’s department talking to Kanesha, I got another video.” I paused for effect.

“Well?” Laura said. “Don’t be a tease, Dad.”

“The child did pretty much as I hoped she would,” I replied. “I did get a clear look at her face. The only problem is, she was wearing a gremlin mask.”

“The kid must have seen me setting up the cameras,” Frank said.

“Possibly,” I said. “Or she’s simply a very smart child who is very determined to keep her identity a secret until she is ready to reveal it.”