Spy Cat (11 page)

“
They took Benjie!
”
Pete said.
“
They pushed him in the van and drove away!
”

Pete hurried partway toward his own driveway
,
to show her where the van had been
,
then turned and went back to her. It still hurt to run
,
but Pete repeated the circle as quickly as he could
,
to convince Mrs. Sunburg how urgent the matter was.
“
Benjie needs help!
”
he cried as he trotted back and forth.
“
Those men took Benjie.
”

“Are you Alex’s cat?” Mrs. Sunburg wondered. “Did Benjie go home and you got out and got in a catfight and now he’s looking for you?”

“
He isn’t looking for me
,
but we need to look for him.
”
Oh
,
it was so frustrating that the people couldn’t understand anything Pete said. Pete had often wondered why the schools didn’t offer classes in
“
Cat as a Second Language
”
so that humans would be able to converse as intelligently as the rest of the animal world does.

Mrs. Sunburg started toward the Kendrills’ house again. “Benjie?” she called. “Are you here?”

“
How could he be here?
”
Pete said.
“
I told you: two thugs took him away in a van.
”

Mrs. Sunburg reached the front of the house and saw a mess in the driveway. It looked as if someone had emptied their car’s litter bag. How could people be so inconsiderate? Shaking her head, Mrs. Sunburg picked up an empty milk carton, candy wrappers, a cigarette package, and several pieces of paper.

“
Don’t do that
,”
Pete said.
“
The burglars threw that trash there
;
it might be important evidence.
”

Mrs. Sunburg stuffed all the garbage into a discarded white paper bag from a fast-food restaurant. Then she knocked on the door. There was no answer. This is very strange, she thought. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. She walked around to the back door and knocked there. The house remained quiet.

The cat wasn’t quiet, though. Clearly something had frightened the poor creature.

She knocked one last time, rapping loudly with her fist.

Pete stood beside her on his hind legs. With his front paws
,
he clawed at the door
,
hoping she would open it. If she went inside
,
she would see that burglars had been here
,
and she would call the police.

If Pete could get in the house
,
maybe he could find some clue that would help the people find Benjie.

It’s going to be up to me
,
Pete thought. I’m the only one who knows what happened to Benjie. Since the humans can’t understand what I tell them
,
I’ll have to show them.

How could he show them? He wished he knew where to start.

When there was no response to her knock, Mrs. Sunburg tried the doorknob, but it didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry, kitty,” she said. “I know you want to go in, but the door is locked.”

“
Look in the window
,”
Pete said.

Thoroughly worried now, Mrs. Sunburg headed back home. As she passed the Kendrills’ garbage can, she lifted the lid and dropped the bag of litter inside.

“
You’re tampering with evidence
,”
Pete said.
“
They won’t find it there.
”

Mrs. Kendrill had left a phone number where she could be reached.

I should have come over sooner, Mrs. Sunburg thought.

Why was one of the cats outside? From the way he had tried to get into their house, she was certain this cat who kept yowling and running around her belonged to the Kendrills.

Feeling as if her thoughts were going in circles like the cat, Mrs. Sunburg found the number Mrs. Kendrill had given her.

“I need to speak to Anita Kendrill,” she said.

“I’m sorry, she left a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, no!”

“Is something wrong?”

“Do you know if she was going straight home?”

“I wouldn’t know that. I can give you her home number, if you like.”

“I already have it,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “Thanks anyway.” She hung up, then looked at the clock. Mary would be home in about ten minutes, which meant Alex would be home then, too. Mrs. Kendrill might be here even sooner. Once the Kendrills got home, they could look for Benjie inside. Had he let himself in, then fallen and hurt himself? If so, wouldn’t he have called out when she knocked? Should she wait until Alex or his mother arrived to do anything more?

The cat now sat outside her back door, yowling mournfully. The cut on his ear didn’t seem deep enough to cause such distress, and although he was dirty, he was able to move around. Something else was wrong.

She wondered if the cat might have been hit by a car and had some internal injury. She knelt beside him. Putting one hand on each side of Pete, she probed gently. He let her touch him without flinching, but he trembled as if he was in shock.

The cat’s behavior convinced Mrs. Sunburg that he had seen something bad. But what?

If only animals could talk, Mrs. Sunburg thought. She would love to know what that cat was saying.

Mrs. Sunburg decided not to wait for Alex or his mother to get home. She picked up the phone and called the police.

I
want to
report a missing person,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “A little boy.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“He was supposed to come to my house after school, at three o’clock, and I was watching for him, but he never came.”

“You aren’t his mother, then?”

“No, I’m a neighbor.”

“Have you contacted the boy’s parents?”

“I tried to call his mother, but I can’t reach her. I don’t know where Benjie’s father works, so I can’t call him. You need to send an officer out here right away. Something bad has happened to Benjie, I know it. Even his cat is acting spooked.”

“His cat?”

“Yes, the cat’s not supposed to be outside, but he is, and Benjie’s not here.”

“I tell you what, ma’am,” the officer said. “Why don’t you wait until you’ve talked to one of the boy’s parents, and then, if they don’t know where the child is, they can call and give me more details.”

“You already have the only detail you need,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “Benjie is missing!”

“People often think a child is missing, but it almost always turns out to be a misunderstanding. Perhaps the boy went home from school with a friend. Maybe he missed the school bus, and he’s waiting in the school office for someone to pick him up. Maybe he forgot that he was supposed to go to your house today, and he’s off riding his bike somewhere. Maybe he was daydreaming or reading a book on the bus and didn’t get off at his stop, and now he’s walking home. Believe me, these things happen all the time.”

“I’m sure they do,” Mrs. Sunburg said.

“I suggest you call the boy’s school, to see if he’s still there. If he isn’t, wait until you’ve talked with his parents before you panic. He’s only forty-five minutes late; that isn’t long enough to assume he’s missing. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Mrs. Sunburg was not reassured. If Benjie had gone home with a friend or had missed his stop on the bus route or was sitting in the school office, who had let the cat out? Still she felt she had no choice but to do what the officer suggested.

She called the school next.

“This is Ruth Sunburg, Mary’s grandmother,” she told the secretary who answered. Then she explained about Benjie and asked if he was still at school.

“He isn’t here in the office,” the secretary said. “If you’ll hold, I’ll check with his teacher.”

A few minutes later, the secretary came back on the line. “Benjie’s teacher says he boarded the school bus, as always,” she said. “She personally was the first-grade bus monitor today, and she knows that no student missed the bus.”

“Do you have a phone number for Benjie’s father?” Mrs. Sunburg asked. “His mother gave me a number, but when I called she had already left her meeting. I don’t know how to reach Mr. Kendrill.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to give out personal phone numbers.”

“This is an emergency,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “I don’t know where Benjie is, and I’m afraid something has happened to him.”

“Well. . .” The woman hesitated. “The rules about personal information were made clear when I took this job.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Mrs. Sunburg said. “Perhaps I could speak to the principal.”

“Hold on, please. I’ll connect you.”

When the principal answered, Mrs. Sunburg quickly explained the situation.

“I can’t give you Mr. Kendrill’s number,” the principal said, “but I will call him immediately and ask him to call you.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Sunburg hung up and waited for the phone to ring. She hoped the principal could reach Mr. Kendrill. Too much time was being wasted while she tried to notify someone that Benjie wasn’t here. Although she agreed that private phone numbers should not be given out willy-nilly, she thought there were times when common sense was more important than rules, and this was one of those times.

She kept looking out the window, hoping to see Benjie, but all she saw was the brown-and-white cat. The cat was still yowling and running back and forth through the trees between the Kendrills’ property and her own. Whatever that cat had seen, it had certainly upset him.

Pete’s throat hurt from yelling so much, and it hadn’t done one bit of good. I might as well save my breath, he thought. Mary’s grandmother had paid attention to him only long enough to be sure he wasn’t seriously hurt. No matter how many times he told her about Benjie, she never figured out what he was saying. If only people were as clever as cats.

Pete wished he had some water. Those french fries had been too salty.

Since he wasn’t doing any good at Mary’s house, he plodded back to his own house. His right front leg ached where he had landed on it when the man threw him out of the van. Pete favored the leg, causing him to limp.

He sniffed the front steps. He could tell where the burglars had walked. He sniffed some more around the spot where they had parked the van.

He followed the truck’s smell halfway down the driveway, where he picked up the smell of the men again.

This is where they stopped, Pete knew. This is where the tall one caught me and threw me into the gravel. Pete’s head and leg still throbbed where he had landed.

Benjie’s scent was there, too. This is where Benjie had stood when he knocked on the window.

Pete’s tail drooped down until the tip dragged in the gravel. I’m a failure as a spy cat, he thought. Instead of protecting Benjie, I sat in the van gobbling up cold hamburger. Now Benjie’s life is in danger and I don’t know how to help him.

Exhausted, Pete laid down in the grass beside the driveway and fell asleep.

*   *   *

Alex got off the school bus at Rocky’s corner rather than riding all the way to his own stop. The boys talked awhile, making plans to get together as soon as they finished their homework.

Then Rocky went toward his house, and Alex walked home by himself.

“Alex!”

Alex saw Mary running toward him. She had ridden the bus home, too, but had gone on to her own stop when Alex got off with Rocky.

“Benjie didn’t come to my house after school,” Mary said. “He was supposed to go straight there when he got off the bus, but he never arrived.”

Alex walked faster, and Mary fell into step beside him.

“Gramma tried to call your parents and can’t reach either of them, and nobody answers the phone or the door at your house. She called the school, too, and Benjie’s teacher said he got on the bus.”

“He probably forgot that he was supposed to go to your house,” Alex said. “Maybe he went home and got his spy backpack, and now he’s in his secret spy place.”

Pete woke up when Alex and Mary approached. He stood and hobbled toward them.
“
Benjie’s been kidnapped
,”
he called.
“
Two men took him away in a van!
”

“Pete!” Alex said. “What are you doing outside?”

“He’s limping,” Mary said. “He’s been hurt.”

Alex picked Pete up and examined him. “His ear’s cut,” he told Mary, “and he’s all dirty on one side. There’s a bare spot on his neck, where the fur is missing.”

“
Never mind me
,”
Pete said.
“
Benjie needs help.
”

Alex carried Pete around to the kitchen door. While Alex hurried to the garage and got the key that was hidden there, Mary knelt beside Pete and rubbed her fingers gently up and down his body, checking for unseen injuries.

Pete held still, enjoying the gentle massage.

Alex unlocked the door, stepped inside, and stopped, looking at the throw rug inside the door. “These are Benjie’s school shoes,” he said. “He came home.”

“Thank goodness,” Mary said.

“He’s going to be in a heap of trouble when Mom and Dad find out he didn’t go to your house when he was supposed to,” Alex said. “Hey, Benjie! Where are you?”

Lizzy woke up, stretched, and came to rub against Pete.

“I think Pete’s okay,” Mary said, “although his one leg seems tender. Maybe I should ask Gramma to take a look at it.”

“
She already did
,”
Pete said.

“That would be—” Alex stopped. “Oh, no!” he said, pointing to the cupboard with the glass doors. The doors stood open; the shelves were empty.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mom’s good dishes! They were in the cupboard and now they’re gone.”

“
So is Benjie
,”
Pete said.

Alex rushed to the family room. The computer desk was there, but the computer and printer were not. Neither was the TV.

“The burglars were here,” Alex said. His legs felt weak, as if he had Rollerbladed too long. “They stole our VCR, and the computer, and the TV set.”