Catboy (14 page)

I nodded.

“Okay, as long as I understand the plan.” He paused, and then he smiled. “I'm game. What time do you want me there?”

Twenty-Four

We stood in the alley beside the junkyard. The place where Mr. Singh had told me we should wait. There was a small army of us. Hopefully a small army would be enough people. There was Dr. Reynolds and my mother, of course, but we had other help. I'd brought the
United
Nations
along—Simon, Devon, Mohammad, Rupinder, Alexander and Jaime. Maybe
brought
wasn't the right word. I couldn't have kept them away if I had tried. They wanted to help the cats as much as I did.

Dr. Reynolds had also brought along some people from the Feral Cat Association. One of them, Doris, I'd met before. The other four—two older men, a woman about my mother's age and a guy in his teens—were very friendly, talkative and excited to be there. They all really wanted to help.

Dr. Reynolds had also brought an array of equipment. He had the traps as well as fifty cages to transfer the cats to after we had trapped them. He'd also brought along thick work gloves for everybody, a couple of big nets and medication to tranquilize the trapped cats that got too wild, so they wouldn't hurt themselves. He also had four long poles. At the end of two of them were snares—loops that could fit around a cat's neck and drag it out. On the end of the other two were hypodermic needles so they could be tranquilized and then removed. It felt like we were going on a safari.

Now all we needed was a way inside the junkyard. We couldn't go in the front gates. Two days ago they'd installed security cameras to watch all the vehicles coming and going. There was no way we could get all these people, the equipment and the vans in without being seen. But Mr. Singh had told me he'd find a way for us to get in.

“Mr. Singh will let us in soon,” I said. I'd said it loud enough for those around me to hear but also to reassure myself. I figured he was going to cut a small opening in the fence for us to climb through.

I knew I wasn't the only person who was getting antsy. I'd overheard snippets of conversation. People were nervous about going into the yard and doing this, especially since I'd told them what Mr. Singh had said— the new owner was going to contact the police and charge anybody who trespassed on the property.

Strangely, though, I think people were more nervous that we
wouldn't
be able to move the cats. It would be awful if all these people and the equipment we'd assembled weren't able to get inside. But that wouldn't happen. I knew I could count on Mr. Singh, unless something had happened.

What if the boss had showed up, or they put on extra guards or additional security cameras? I hadn't been inside the yard for two days—aside from the security cameras being in place, there was too much work going on inside for me to visit. Maybe they had moved more quickly than we expected and had already removed the cars from the colony's area. But Mr. Singh would have let me know if that had happened, if he had known how to get in touch with me. If it all happened last night or this morning, he wouldn't have had any way to tell me.

An engine started on the other side of the fence. I was right, they were moving the wrecks today. There was an enormous crash and a section of the fence exploded, splintering and flying into the air in a cloud of dust, dirt and debris. Out of the cloud emerged a gray forklift with Mr. Singh at the controls! And on top of his brilliant red turban sat a large yellow hard hat.

The machine rumbled into the alley and came to a stop. Mr. Singh looked around, trying to see through the cloud of dust that surrounded him. I jumped up and ran over, and the rest of the crowd followed.

“That is some cool ride,” Simon yelled.

“It is not a BMW, but it is pretty fancy,” Mr. Singh joked. “Is this hole big enough?”

“ I should be able to squeeze my van through,” Dr. Reynolds said.

“Oh, no need for squeezing. I will make it bigger.”

“Please, don't go to any trouble. It should be okay,” Dr. Reynolds said.

“It is no trouble, sir,” Mr. Singh said. “Have any of you ever driven a forklift through a fence?”

I thought that was a strange question.

“It is a very, very much fun thing to do! I will show you!” Mr. Singh exclaimed.

He started up the engine, and we all backed away. He spun the forklift around like it was a bumper car at the carnival.

Mr. Singh drove forward and crashed the forklift into another section of the fence, and wood and metal fell to the ground. It was like he was unpeeling the junkyard as more and more of the fence disappeared beneath the forklift. He continued until the hole was large enough to drive a transport truck through, sideways. He shut the engine off and jumped down with a big smile on his face.

“I figure since I am fired, I might as well enjoy myself,” Mr. Singh explained.

“You're going to get fired?” I exclaimed.

“Most certainly! What sort of security guard would allow somebody to take down a section of the fence he was guarding? But please, it only saves me from quitting!”

I was wrong. It was more like a military campaign than a safari we were on. Dr. Reynolds placed traps around the heart of the colony. Each of the traps was baited with salmon and chicken chunks.

It hadn't taken long for the first catches. Within an hour of the traps being set and us backing away, we'd caught the first cat, followed quickly by the second, third and fourth. We brought the cats back to the van and transferred them to holding cages and then returned the traps to the colony.

As Dr. Reynolds had suggested, we hadn't fed the cats for the past three days. Our best tool was their hunger. The new fence kept most of the cats from leaving the yard to find food, and a lot of the rodents in the yard had been scared away by the trucks and activity. The cats were so hungry, they couldn't resist the traps.

I heard a metallic thud and knew we had caught another cat. I slipped on my gloves. By the time I circled around the wrecks to where I thought the sound had come from, there were already people at the trap. Simon and Doris were both peering in. I hurried to their side.

It was another one of the teen cats, one of Miss Mittens's kittens, who were not so small anymore. That made me happy. If we caught one of her kittens, then maybe we could catch her. So far I hadn't even seen her, or Hunter, or some of the others, including King. I wondered if the mouth of the trap would even be big enough to let King in. If he was caught, it would take a crane to move him to the truck.

“Let me take that,” Dr. Reynolds said. He picked the cage up. The cat hissed and snarled and bumped against the bars, trying to get away from him. “It's okay, kitty, nobody is going to hurt you,” he said.

I don't think the cat believed him. “This makes five. We've already got ten percent of the colony,” I said. “At this rate we'll have them all within ten hours.”

He picked up the cage. “It would be nice if it worked that way, but I'm afraid it doesn't.”

“Sure it does,” I said. “One hour for ten percent, so that means ten hours for one hundred percent.”

“I'm not questioning your math,” he said.

I followed him back to the van.

“It will get progressively harder to catch cats as we go on. The first ones we caught are the younger, less cautious ones.”

He opened up the back of the van, and the cats jumped against the bars of their cages, trying to get away from us. He placed the trap against an empty cage and opened the doors of both. A few shakes and the cat slipped through the opening of the trap and into the cage. Dr. Reynolds closed the cage, picked up the empty trap and closed the van's doors.

“My guess is that for Hunter and King we're going to have to use the snares or the nets,” Dr. Reynolds said. “That's probably the only way we're going to get a cat like Hunter, especially since he's already been in a trap. He won't make the same mistake twice.”

I knew Dr. Reynolds was right. I'd been thinking the same thing. If we were able to catch every cat in the colony except one, it would be Hunter. I tried to ease my guilt by thinking that if any of the cats could survive without the colony, it would be him. The thought made me feel a little better, but not much. I'd taken him away from the colony, and now I was taking the colony away from him, cat by cat. But what choice did I have?

Twenty-Five

I moved among the wrecks, squeezing through tight spaces, trying to avoid sharp edges and rusty bits. Before we had entered the yard that morning, I was afraid the owner might have removed too many cars and gotten too close to the colony. Now, with the cats using the remaining wrecks to hide, I wished there were fewer cars, so the cats wouldn't have so many places to hide.

I trailed behind Dr. Reynolds. We each carried one of the pole snares. We'd seen an occasional flash of fur and heard movement in the wrecks, but the remaining cats were very elusive. Twice I thought I saw Hunter, but a glimpse of black amid shadows wasn't much of a confirmation.

I was really surprised King hadn't surfaced. He was so big and slow moving I didn't think he could run or hide, but somehow he'd managed to stay hidden. He was always so front and center when it came to food, I figured he'd be the first to enter a trap. Maybe he wasn't as desperate as some of the other cats because he was so fat and could live off his blubber for days.

Hunter remaining hidden was to be expected, but I hadn't seen Miss Mittens either. She had never been timid or reserved. We'd trapped all four of her kittens, although they really weren't kittens anymore.

Maybe, with her kittens all grown up, Miss Mittens had more time to spend with Hunter. I pictured the two of them together, like the scene in
Lady and the Tramp
where they are sitting in an alley sharing a plate of pasta. That was why Miss Mittens and Hunter weren't here now. Obviously I was suffering from more of that anthromorphing thing.

“Got you!” Dr. Reynolds yelled.

His pole was stuck in a hole in the wreckage. Part of me hoped it was Hunter on the other end, but part of me hoped it wasn't.

Dr. Reynolds dragged the pole out of the crevice. Whatever was on the other end seemed to be putting up a good fight, like Hunter or King would. He pulled the end clear. It was Sherpa! Rupinder would be so happy, although Sherpa certainly wasn't. He was spitting and digging in his claws, trying to get free.

“This is a little like fishing,” Dr. Reynolds said. “I just wish we could let them know it's catch and release.”

He pulled the pole closer until Sherpa was right there, only a foot or two from his hands.

“What a beautiful cat,” Dr. Reynolds said. “Himalayan cats are among my favorites.”

“His name is Sherpa,” I said.

Sherpa's eyes were wild with fear. Dr. Reynolds held the pole with one hand and reached for the cat with the other. Sherpa attacked him, landing three or four fast strikes harmlessly against his heavy gloves and jacket.

“Can't blame you, big guy,” he said. “I'd be fighting too.” He turned to me. “Can you get me a cage?”

“Oh, yeah! Sure, of course.”

I dropped my pole and ran to get a cage. There weren't many left because most were filled with cats. We had thirty-four, no, thirty-five now with Sherpa.

By the time I returned, Dr. Reynolds had Sherpa pinned to the ground under a big gloved hand. I opened the cage and he picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck, the way its mother would have picked it up. Sherpa relaxed, maybe remembering his mother, and Dr. Reynolds placed him in the cage. The second Dr. Reynolds released his hold on Sherpa, the cat sprang to life, clawing the bars to try and get free.

Dr. Reynolds picked up the cage, and we headed for the van again. “We're doing well, but we don't have much daylight left,” he said.

I looked at my watch and knew he was right. It was almost four o'clock. We'd spent the entire day at the junkyard. It would be dark in less than an hour, and it was starting to get cold.

Throughout the course of the day, we'd been losing our helpers. First Doris, then one of the men, and then Alexander, Jaime and Rupinder had to leave. I wished Rupinder were here to know we'd caught Sherpa, but I'd call him when I got home. I understood people had things they had to do. I was just grateful they'd been here to help for some of the time.

“We're going to have to call it a day soon,” Dr. Reynolds said.

“But there are still fifteen cats to catch,” I said.

“We still have tomorrow morning. But to be honest, we've done a lot better than I thought we would.”

“But not as good as we're going to do,” I added.

As we approached the van, I heard the cats. Some of them were wailing loudly. Dr. Reynolds opened the back door and the cats got even louder. Some of them sat in the corner of their cage, but others were bouncing around, desperately trying to get out.