“Levah TAH teh,” he murmured.

  With a twitch of his tail, he floated to the counter next to Liz and stretched his nose forward, brushing Liz’s hand with his whiskers as he leaned in for a sniff. She jumped and dropped the little white cup.

  “Do you mind?” she said, leaning against the sink.

  “Not at all.”

  Liz glared at him. She looked at the floor, then back at him.

  “How did you get up here, anyway?”

  “Levitated,” he said, shrugging his good shoulder. “I couldn’t very well jump with an injured leg.”

  “Levitated. Of course. How silly of me.”

  Liz picked up the small white cup, lifted a handle on the gadget, and inserted the cup in a hole just big enough for it. There was a quiet pop as she pulled the handle down. The scent of roasted nuts wafted through the air, carried over a deeper, darker scent Henry was unfamiliar with. He stared at the twin lights blinking blue next to the handle, vaguely aware that Liz was inserting a cup below the gadget’s head. She pushed one of the blinking lights and walked away. A moment later the thing sputtered and hissed. Henry jumped backward, nearly falling from the counter.

  “Flah MAH ball,” he shouted.

  The gadget burst into flame. Liz screamed and grabbed a red canister from under the sink. In an instant the gadget, Henry and most of the counter were white with foam.

  “What in the world just happened?” Liz asked, studying the melted black thing that had been her gadget.

  “It was possessed,” Henry said, shaking the foam from his fur.

  “So you set it on fire?”

  “It was hissing and spitting fumes and black liquid at us. I was merely protecting us from this evil contraption.”

  “Evil—?” Liz rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. “It’s supposed to do that, you fur ball.” She looked forlornly at the melted object. “Now how am I supposed to make coffee?”

  Henry glanced at the misshapen black lump and back at Liz. “Might I suggest a nice calming cup of tea?”

  “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to make a cup of tea when you destroyed my tea maker?”

  “I thought you said this was a coffee maker.”

  “It’s both.”

  “Oh,” Henry said, studying the charred remains. He glanced at the warped drawer Liz had drawn the little white cup from, then back at Liz as she wiped the counter with a wet rag she’d grabbed from the sink. “Those little cups have either coffee or tea in them?”

  “That’s right, genius. Ya put the little cup in the holder, push the button and water pours through the hole made by the machine. Out comes a delicious beverage of your choice, provided some maniac cat doesn’t torch the thing first.”

  “That’s really quite brilliant.”

  “I guess this one’s going to the dumpster.” Liz sighed as she came to the coffee maker and put her fists on her hips. “Only thing I ever won and now it’s a piece of junk.” She chuckled. “I can always put it on display in my office. Call it modern art.”

  “Someone would call that art?” asked Henry.

  “You’d be surprised,” she said, heaving the remains up and lugging them to the trash can.

  He flattened his ears and frowned. “There’s so much for me to learn about this time.” Henry watched Liz finish cleaning up the foamy mess.

  “Perhaps I can make amends for my error,” he said, an idea popping into his head.

  Liz’s left eyebrow raised and she frowned. “How?”

  “Allow me to make you a hot beverage.”

  Her frown deepened. “Ah, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. One, you don’t have opposable thumbs and two, I’m not in the mood for a furry drink. Thanks anyway.” Henry gave her his widest cat grin and patted the counter. “Pull up a chair and watch. I promise no furry drinks.”

  Liz shrugged and dragged a chair from the other side of the bar into the kitchen entryway, sat down and crossed her arms and legs.

  “Now, where are the cups?”

  Liz pointed at a cabinet. Henry twitched his tail. The cabinet door opened, revealing two shelves crammed with various mugs. He glanced at Liz, guessed her height, and selected a pale green mug from the lower shelf, deducing she might use it often. The mug lifted from the shelf and floated toward him when he angled his ears back, landing gracefully on the counter. From Liz’s soft exhale, he decided he’d guessed correctly. He stared at the dark green amphibian and letters emblazoned on the front. F.R.O.G.? Henry glanced at Liz from the corner of his eye, wondering why a smart woman would need a cup reminding her what the amphibian was called.

  Henry turned his attention back to making Liz’s hot beverage. He studied the water spout connected to the sink. Pushing the lever up to release the water would be simple enough, but bringing the water to the cup would require a more complicated spell. He felt Liz’s amused gaze ruffling his fur. Ignoring it, he twitched his tail to engage the flow of water.

  “Wah TEAR too BAH. Ahn TRAY vuh SALE.”

  A ribbon of water flowed from the spout into the cup. Liz’s gasp brought a wide smile to Henry’s whiskers. As a librarian, he’d seldom had the opportunity to use the more complicated spells, let alone show off his abilities to a complete novice.

  “END ah.”

  The water ceased flowing into the cup and Henry shut the spout off. He stared at the warped casing containing the little cups, deciding how much power to put into his tail twitch to open it. Too much and the entire thing might fly off the counter. Not enough and it wouldn’t open at all. He focused his will on the metal drawer and twitched his tail. The object scooted to the end of the counter, the drawer popping loose at the last moment. Henry breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Coffee or tea?” he asked.

  “Coffee.”

  With a few more twitches of tail and ears, Henry had a little white cup opened and hovering over the mug. He dumped the contents into the water. Noting Liz’s grimace, he chuckled to himself. He might not be familiar with this concoction, but, coffee or tea, no one likes gritty extras in their drink.

  “Do you take it with cream or sugar?”

  “A splash of milk.”

  He nodded and went to work opening the door to the large rectangular object in the corner, guessing by its hum and relatively cool temperature it must contain the milk. It took another couple of minutes to figure out which oddly shaped container held it. By the time he had the gallon jug on the counter, the water had turned as dark as his own fur. He wrinkled his nose at the scent, something he would have attributed to a white-striped, black-furred mammal if the scent hadn’t been wafting from the mug.

  Henry kneaded the air, drawing the grounds into a ball above the dark liquid. When he was certain he had them all, he sent them flying into the trash can. Next he twitched the milk into the mug, careful not to overfill it, and sent the container back to the ice box. Liz clapped her hands slowly.

  “That’s impressive, but I don’t like cold coffee.”

  “Is it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Liz’s eyebrow rose again. She stepped toward the counter and reached for the mug handle.

  “HEE tah in pair FECK toh,” he whispered as she brought the drink to her lips.

  At first she took a small sip, then closed her eyes and drew in a larger mouthful. As she lowered the mug, a smile stretched her lips.

  “That has to be the best coffee outside a coffee shop,” she said, cradling the cup.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment and, perhaps,” he said, cocking his head, “a favorable reply to my request?”

  “Let’s just say you have my attention,” Liz said, leaning back against the sink and taking another sip of coffee.

  “Fair enough.” Henry settled into an awkward reclining position. “In an attempt to understand your time, I watched your story box and perused your papers last night.”

  “Wait. You snooped through my stuff?”

  “A necessary evil, I’m afraid. I needed information and you were asleep. I’m certain you wouldn’t have appreciated me waking you in the wee hours to ask you about current affairs.”

  Liz grunted and took another sip of coffee. Henry took it as a sign to continue.

  “I must admit that I found what I saw on your story box—”

  “TV.”

  “Your TV,” he continued, laying his ears back, “to be rather baffling. Humans careening around in, what did you call them? Cars?” Liz nodded. “Humans careening around in cars and chasing each other while shooting projectiles from oddly shaped sticks. And the blatant displays of human affections followed by the curious notion that one must purchase any given item to be considered part of the--” He paused as he searched for the words, wrinkling his brow. “In crowd?”

  “I suppose you come from a time of complete piety and pure thoughts,” Liz grumbled.

  Henry cocked his head and widened his whiskers. “Not at all. Problems abound in all times, I imagine. No, my confusion came from trying to understand if what I saw was reality or theatrics.”

  “It’s mostly fake, except the news, though...” Liz smirked and chuckled. “Sometimes you can’t be too sure about what you hear on the news, either.”

  “Everything with a grain of salt?”

  “More like a bucket, but yeah,” she said with a shrug. “So what about my personal papers? Find anything confusing in them?”

  “Actually, quite the opposite. I believe you and I have something in common, our love for antiquities and safeguarding important knowledge.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I understood what I read, you recently acquired a large group of old texts and artifacts.”

  “Yep,” she said, straightening her back and raising her chin. “Quite a coup, if I do say so myself, despite Wray’s objections.”

  “Why would anyone object to gathering such valuable items?”

  Liz snorted. “We’re a library, Ms. Manning,” she said in a nasally voice, “not a museum for mad men’s diaries and the odd piece of junk from yesteryear.” She swished water in her empty cup and tossed the water into the sink, making Henry flinch as some splashed onto his fur. “Seriously. That toad wouldn’t know a valuable text from a roll of toilet paper.”

  “Toilet paper?”

  “And why shouldn’t a library have a few artifacts on hand to look at?” she continued, scouring the inside of her cup with a sponge wand filled with sharp-smelling green liquid.

  “I mean, just because we aren’t technically a museum doesn’t mean people don’t want to see the things they’re reading about, right?”

  Henry scooted back as Liz turned on the faucet and rinsed the mug in her hand. She grabbed a towel and jammed it into the cup, twisting it around until Henry was sure it might rip. She flung her arms wide, mug in one hand, towel in the other.

  “Seriously, what kind of idiot passes up a chance to bring in new patrons? I mean, it’s not like we’re spending the library’s money on this anyway.”

  “You might want to put that away before it breaks,” Henry said, nodding to the green F.R.O.G. cup.

  “What?” Liz looked at her hand, surprise registering on her face. She set the mug back on the shelf Henry had lifted it from and turned, hands on hips, towel dangling forgotten in a clenched fist. “Anyway, it was a coup on my part getting that exhibit, let alone convincing Ms. Luther it should have its own wing. Why shouldn’t I feel proud?”

  “You should.”

  “You’re absolutely right I should,” she said, hanging the towel in the ring above the sink. She leaned with her back against the counter and crossed her arms. “And what, exactly, is your interest in this exhibit?” She raised her hands to stop him as he opened his mouth. “No. Don’t tell me. They’re your long lost diaries and kitty toys and you want them back.”

  “Hardly,” he said, whiskers compressing tight. This might be trickier than I thought. “If your notes are even close to accurate, what you have on display are no more interesting to me than grass clippings. However, I would like to see them just... one last time before...” he said, widening his eyes and hoping his homesick kitty expression looked compelling.

  Liz’s eyebrow rose as she gave him a lopsided smile. “Are you giving me the sad puppy dog eyes?”

  “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” he said, letting his whiskers drooped a little more.

  “You are,” Liz exclaimed and laughed. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

  “I am a cat. How could I possibly have puppy dog eyes?”

  She shook her head and snickered. “You need to work on your poor lost kitty routine because you look like the kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”

  “Does that mean you’ll be taking me to the opening tonight?”

  “Could I stop you if I wouldn’t?”

  Henry shook his head. “No, but it would be much easier if you took me with you. From what I understand, animals are not welcomed in public places here.”

  “True, though you might find yourself with a new job at the library.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Library cats are the in thing right now. In fact,” she said, holding her fingers in a square in front of her and squinting at him through the opening, “I might put a little red bow tie on you and carry you on my shoulder. You can be my date.”

  “I will not stoop to wearing a collar,” Henry said, wrinkling his nose.

  Liz shrugged and walked away, calling over her shoulder, “That’s the deal. Wear the tie and be my date or find your own way in.”

  ***

  Henry resisted the urge to tear at the little red bow tie Liz had insisted he wear. At least he’d convinced her to take the bandage from his shoulder. He shifted to run a coarse tongue over an area of fur flattened by the bandage.

  “Sit still,” Liz hissed. He took a breath to respond. Her hand covered his head, smelling of cheese and puff pastry. “And don’t talk.”

  Henry wondered how he would ever get used to living as a mute cat. If he didn’t find a way back to his time, that’s what he’d have to do. Maybe I should reconsider Liz’s offer to stay with her. At least she already knows what I’m capable of—mostly. He scanned the room full of humans. A short man with a round little belly that reminded him of a pot-bellied stove he’d seen once, broke off his conversation and bustled over to them. Although he smiled widely, the effect made him look more like a stranded piranha than friendly.

  “What is that thing on your shoulder doing here,” he said in a nasally voice. Henry couldn’t help admiring Liz’s ability to mimic. The man paused and greeted a passing couple. “There is food here, for Heaven’s sake. There are health laws, Ms. Manning.”

  “Relax, Wray. Henry’s here for publicity as a library cat.”

  “A library—”

  Henry watched intently, waiting to see what other shades of red the man would turn.

  “Some of the texts and artifacts feature cats. I figure we can capitalize on that like museums do with Egyptian displays by bringing in a library cat,” Liz said as a woman in a dress a shade darker than Wray’s face and a large necklace sauntered up behind the man.

  “Ms. Luther will never stand for—”

  “Never stand for what, Mr. Smithe?” the woman in red asked, laying a pale, elegant hand on his tweed covered shoulder. He stiffened, his face registering panic for a moment before he plastered an ingratiating smile in place and turned to greet the new arrival.

  “Why, you would never stand for attending such a wonderful gala without meeting the newest member of our staff, Madam Chairperson.”

  “What a handsome fellow,” she said, her green eyes boring into his fur. “I assume he’s friendly.”

  Henry forced his fur to lie flat and his muscles to relax, then extended a paw toward the woman.

  “I think he wants to shake your hand,” Liz said.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, then widened in affected delight, her smile widening just enough for any human to be taken in. Henry pitied humans for not having more sensitive noses. If they had, he was certain those nearby would have scented her for what she was—a predator.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” she said, taking his paw between cold fingers. She turned her fake smile on Liz, pulling her hand back and laying it casually over her necklace. Henry wondered if she supposed he might take an interest in the dangling object and try to claw it from around her neck. Even if he’d been a Normal, he doubted if he would have stayed within ten feet of her.

  “Tell me, why haven’t I met this charming feline before now?”

  “I—” Liz began.

  “We—” Wray interjected.

  “That is, we, thought it would be a great marketing plan to keep Henry secret until the opening.”

  “One would think heavy advertising would have been a better strategy to get more patrons interested.”

  “Perhaps, but it would have cost money and we all know word-of-mouth is much more effective. What better way to get the perfect word-of-mouth campaign than to invite the most influential library patrons to an exclusive opening and then surprise them with a bonus? After meeting Henry, I would be surprised if anyone objects to a library cat in Mervale Public Library.”

  “And, if someone here did, it would be easy enough to write the introductions off as simply a publicity stunt. Very clever, Ms.—” the woman raised a perfectly crafted eyebrow.

  “Manning, Madam Chairperson.”

  The woman in red turned a predatory smile on Wray. “You would do well to keep Ms. Manning on staff. She seems to be brimming with bright ideas that will lead this monument out of the dark ages.” She turned to Liz and inclined her head. “It was a pleasure meeting you, dear. If you’re ever ready to pursue larger game in the business world, don’t hesitate to contact me. I’m always looking for hungry new talent.”

  Henry shivered as Madam Chairperson sauntered away, presumably after her next kill. Liz reached up a hand and stroked his shoulder, a slight tremble in her fingers.

  “See to it that beast doesn’t leap onto the hors d’oeuvre table,” Wray whispered and left.

  “That woman gives me the willies,” Liz murmured. Henry patted her cheek. “You, too, huh? I say we stay as far away from her as possible.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9