Casanova (3 page)

When the box opened next, bright florescent light blinded the cat. Warm dry hands reached in and pulled him out. These were caring hands and they smelled familiar to Casanova. They weren’t Mother’s hands, but they somehow reminded him of her. They weren’t female hands, they were male. As he began to regain his faculties Casanova realized it was the smell of the man’s hands that was familiar.

They smelled of medicine.

“Having been locked inside the house he naturally began to spray and mark his territory,” Casanova heard the man say to Gwen and Larry. “We’ll take care of this tonight and you can pick him up in the morning.”

Casanova felt a sharp pinch on his left-hind quarter and then he became dizzy and sleepy. There were no dreams in this sleep. There were no thoughts of any kind. There was just the deep black of unconsciousness and while he drifted in that darkness, Casanova was neutered by veterinarian Charles Stravage at the request of his owners, Gwen and Larry Talbot.

It would take Casanova three weeks to fully recover from this ordeal. During those three weeks he rested often, endured the lingering pain, and spent quite a deal of time watching Gwen and Larry. During those three weeks Casanova also began to plot. He needed to be bigger. He needed to be stronger. He would have to wait. Wait until the moon that passed returned at this time again. A year would pass before Casanova could set his plans in motion.

The time to act came the following July on a sunny and cloudless day, but a Full Thunder Moon was waiting on the horizon for night to come.

Gwen loved her pretty things.

Her tastes were not expensive. She was a lover of thrift shops, flea markets, and yard sales. She would find all her simple but beautiful treasures there. One of her very favorite things to find were glass bottles and jars. All sorts of different shapes, colors, and sizes called to her and she could never resist. She used them as decorative decanters all over the house and in the bathroom where she filled them with bubble bath, creams, lotions, and potions.

That morning, after Larry had left, Gwen did some light cleaning and then headed out to some local yard sales. Casanova waited for her to leave and then he casually strolled into one of the rooms he was never allowed in, the master bathroom. Gwen had forgotten to close the door. She was about to when the cat distracted her. She never remembered to go back and check if she had.

Casanova jumped on the bathroom counter and carefully snaked his way around all the bottles and what not crowded there until he found what he was looking for. The aqua blue Mason jar filled with Gwen’s scented bath cream. She always kept it on the corner of the counter top. Closest to the tub. Closest to the doorway. Casanova knocked the jar off the counter with a swipe of his white paw. It smashed on the floor and its contents spread quickly.

Gwen returned home from her day of hunting, put her finds on the kitchen table, and went straight to the bedroom to wash up and change her clothes. Just like she always did. As Gwen turned the corner to the bathroom Casanova leapt from behind the bed and jumped on it. Casanova knew Gwen was afraid of cats. She expressed it enough around him. He only hissed at her once. It was the one time she called him Cass. He really wasn’t that upset, for a moment it felt comforting, but he found the look of fear on her face much more fascinating

Gwen was shocked to see his hackles raised and his fur full blown. His teeth were bared and he let out a hiss that sounded more like a shriek. Gwen screamed and step backwards trying to get away from the mad cat. Gwen’s cute black shoes with the non-slip heels made contact with the soapy tile floor. Her legs flew out from under her as the weight of her head threw her backwards. Her skull cracked open with the hard impact on the antique lead and porcelain toilet bowl she had purchased at the Rhinebeck Flea Market.

Casanova watched calmly from the bed as Gwen’s body twitched and the blood from her head wound flowed down the side of the toilet and onto to the floor.

Larry spent the same day running drills with the New Paltz Volunteer Fire Brigade. He enjoyed living a part of his life in service to others. It was exhausting, but fulfilling work. By the time he was making his way home his arms, back, and shoulders were sore, and his legs felt like jelly. He was looking forward to one of Gwen’s after fire work massages.

Casanova was playing with a piece of twine in the hallway when Larry came through the door. He called for Gwen as he hung his coat on the hook in the mud room. He called out again as he pulled off his work boots. His wife didn’t respond either time.

Sensing something was wrong, Larry quickly stepped into the living room. He only caught a quick glimpse of Casanova running across his path. He never saw the twine following behind the cat. Having been wrapped around the corner leg of the entertainment center, and with the other end clutched in Casanova’s mouth, the cord pulled taught causing Larry to stumble.

Casanova was thrown forward from the force. He tumbled but landed on his feet. Larry fell forward and landed directly on top of the metal and glass coffee table. It shattered upon impact. Two large shards hit the floor edge first and turned upwards as Larry’s throat came down on them. One lodged against his spine. The other pushed its way straight through the back of Larry’s neck.

It would be a few days before the police arrived. While he waited, Casanova ate what was available from the open pantry and what was out on the kitchen counters. Eventually the couple was missed and the police knocked on the cabin door.

Casanova was casually laying on the couch when he heard them knock. He watched as they went from window to window when they got no response. They finally saw Larry’s body on the floor surrounded by his own blood. The two deputies broke down the door and entered with their guns drawn. They searched the house and found Gwen. There was less blood but her twisted body was equally horrific.

Casanova listened as the two men spoke of a history of domestic violence. They quickly deduced that the scene before them probably began as an argument that turned into a physical altercation that ended in death for them both. They then turned their attention to the innocent cat that had never moved from the couch.

“Poor fella.”

One deputy picked him up and Casanova began purring in his arms because that’s what was expected of him.

“We need to get him to the pound.”

Both men began petting his head.

“He’s not going to get very far with that shock collar on.”

This was the final moment of Casanova’s plan.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try and eat the bodies.”

This was the moment Casanova had longed for.

“Don’t be an idiot,” the other said with a laugh, “it’s just a cat.”

With that the collar came loose.

“Not like it’s a dog.”

Casanova was finally free.

The two deputies were not ready for the fury that came next. Casanova sunk his teeth into the nearest hand. He bit down to the bone. His rear paws flew up and caught the neck of the other man. A sharp claw sliced the deputy’s artery. Casanova was hurled exactly in the direction he wanted. As his body spun in the air, Casanova kept his head turning and his eyes focused on the open door.

Casanova heard the men screaming and yelling. He heard his first gun shot. It would not be the last. Casanova landed on his feet and ran like a cat possessed. He felt the wind of the bullet that whizzed passed him as he cleared the doorway. The bleeding deputy had pulled his gun when he was cut. The first bullet was meant for the cat. The second bullet was fired when the man convulsed from the pain of his gushing wound. The wild round entered his bitten partner’s heart and killed him instantly.

Nineteen miles South West of Woodstock in the town of Accord, and six months after the bodies of Gwen and Larry Talbot, and Deputies Santiago and Dean, were found, Willard Stiles was packing up his car for a road trip. He was heading out the next morning for a new life in California. Will was grateful for the big full moon hanging high in the sky. It was providing him with all the light he would need to finish his late night packing.

The newly retired architect was looking forward to the long drive. It would give him time to reflect on what had been and what was to come. The sun would rise in a couple of hours. Will wanted to be on the road by the time it did. Everything was done. The house and its contents had been sold at a tidy profit. What little he wanted to take with him was already loaded into the car. Other than taking a shower to refresh himself the last thing he had to do was load his Coleman Koolatron P20 Compact 12 Volt Cooler.

The cooler was his new toy purchased specifically for this trip. It was sleek and compact, which appealed to him as a designer. He loaded the Koolatron with a bunch of assorted snacks and drinks, cookies and crackers, bread and sandwich meats. Will was going to plug this baby into the cigarette lighter and let its state of the art thermoelectric cooling system do its thing. Less stops meant getting there faster.

Will was glad he was just about done because he was getting winded. Perhaps a nap before that shower was in order. He was heading back to put the cooler right between the front passenger and rear seats but stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the driver’s side door was open.

He didn’t remember leaving the door open.

Everything in the car was everything left in his life. Will was a native New Yorker originally from the Bronx. Born and raised. He always locked his doors. His husband Phil kidded him about it often once they had enough money to relocate and move their design firm to upstate New York. Phil had gone ahead to California as their advance man. Will was anxious to get back to the love of his life so he brushed off his foolish notions and went to the car.

As he got closer, a stray cat jumped out of the car and ran for the woods. When he got to the car, he found it full of cats. In the moonlight, they looked like a pack of large rats rummaging through all his things. These cats were dirty, scruffy, and mangy, and they were ripping up his belongings. Will was disgusted and incensed.

“How the fuck did you open the door?” he shouted.

The cats all turned at once to face Will.

Every cat eye was on him and neither man nor beast moved a muscle. A low growl started to come from inside the car. The collective sound was meant to be unnerving and it was, but Willard was not having any of it. He went towards the passenger side door to open it and shoo the mob out. As he crossed the front of his car he was hit sideways with a blow that was strong enough to knock the wind out of him and land him on to the hood.

Willard was dazed as his body slid down off the car and onto the gravel covering the driveway. The thing that slammed into him was on top of Will in an instant. The black and white blur began clawing at him. Will raised his arms up to protect his face. The beast bit into his forearm. The architect screamed and threw a punch that landed solidly on the face of what Will assumed was a large bobcat. The creature reared back and cried out. Silhouetted against the moon the wild cat appeared enormous.

Dozens of cats then poured onto Willard’s body. They were scratching, and clawing, and biting with a murderous determination. Will tried his best to protect himself but there were so many of them that every time he took in a breath he could taste dirty fur.

Willard began screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs as he rolled his body back and forth over the loose gravel. He could barely hear his own screams over the hissing and snarling and then his pleas were all he could hear. He stopped rolling and found himself bloody and alone. The beast and the cats were all gone, and so was his Coleman Koolatron P20 Compact 12 Volt Cooler.

Fifty-two miles South East of Accord in the town of Sleepy Hollow, and nine months after Willard Stiles was viciously attacked, Donna Lacerenza was alone at home and enjoying a beer. As a single mother of two boisterous boys, she cherished solitary moments when they presented themselves. This one came courtesy of an All Hollows’ Eve.

On this Halloween night her sons, Martin and Ryan, were out with their grandma enjoying the Harvest Festival Trunk or Treat Night at Saint Teresa’s Church. Peace and quiet had been her goal when she suggested they all go without her, but Donna had ulterior motives for wanting to be alone that night. Donna wanted to visit with her mysterious new friend.

Everyone in the family called him her boyfriend. So did everyone she told about him at work. Donna thought he was handsome though entirely too hairy to be her boyfriend, but he was definitely cute enough to be one of the loves of her life. For the past three months, a black and white cat had been visiting her at night and Donna was growing ever more curious about her elusive gentleman caller.

Whatever she was doing, he would always find her. Wherever she was in the house, he would appear at the window. First or second floor did not matter, there he would be, just watching her. At first, he visited when the children were around. They both saw him on more than one occasion. Even grandma spotted him once or twice. After the first month the cat’s visits changed. After that, he only visited Donna when she was alone.

Donna Lacerenza was a determined woman and she was determined to catch the cat and bring him indoors. Whenever he appeared the cat looked clean and well kept. He wore no collar. Donna surmised that this was once a housecat that was abandoned. Perhaps he left his home on his own. He never asked for food or took any when they left some out for him. She thought he may be going back to his home for food because cats always return to their food source, but the fact that he wore no identifying collar probably meant he had several sources of food throughout the area.