Chapter 4

            A crash interrupted Will's thoughts.  It took him a moment to realize the crash had not come from his house.  "Did you hear something?" he asked Ricky.

            "Please, Will Denton, we do not have time—"

            A scream came from next door—Jessie's house.  Another crash came from her house.  "She's in trouble," he said.  He turned to Ricky.  "You've got to let me go."

            "I can't.  You must—"

            "Please, Jessie is in trouble."

            "That does not matter.  My people—"

            "You've got to let me help her.  She's my best friend.  Or at least she was."

            The stuffed raccoon couldn't do much in terms of facial expressions, but still he managed to convey surprise on his masked face.  "This Jessie is a female?"

            "Yes, Jessica McCormick.  You know her?"

            "We must help her."  Ricky touched something on his belt.  The restraints holding Will to the frame fell away.  He collapsed onto his knees but quickly picked himself up.  Ricky was already trotting out of the room on his stubby legs.

            Will easily caught up to him, scooping him up as he went to the kitchen.  He picked up the phone to dial 911.  "We can't alert the authorities," Ricky said.

            "Why not?  If someone is robbing the house—"

            "No, it's nothing like that.  Please, we have to do this on our own."

            There was a pleading note in the raccoon's voice Will couldn't resist.  "All right.  But if it looks too hairy we're calling the cops."  With Ricky perched on his shoulder he headed for the door, pausing to snatch his grandmother's spare cane from the umbrella stand.  The metal cane wouldn't make much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

            Jessie's Chevette was the only car in the driveway, meaning her parents had gone away.  As he crept around the Chevette, he heard glass breaking, followed by what sounded like a cat yowling.  So far as he knew, Jessie didn't have any cats—real ones at any rate.

            Keeping low as he'd seen in secret agent movies, Will climbed up the front steps to the doors.  He put a hand on the knob and his ear up against the metal of the door to listen.  He couldn't hear anything from inside.  Maybe the attacker had already been subdued.  That would be just his luck; a chance to play white knight for Jessie and she'd have already saved herself.

            He turned the knob slowly, carefully pulling the door open so as not to make a sound.  Staying low, he crept into the living room, hiding behind a La-Z-Boy recliner.  He resisted the urge to call out her name, not wanting to alert the attacker if he or she was still around.

            With the cane raised and Ricky perched on his shoulder like a pirate's parrot, Will scurried from the recliner, into the dining room.  There was still no sign of the attacker as he neared the kitchen.  There, hiding behind the refrigerator, he looked down the hallway.  For a moment he thought he saw a white shape. 

            Then he heard what sounding like a low hiss.  "Must be some kind of animal," he whispered to Ricky.

            "Yes, I'm afraid so."

            Will took a deep breath and then started down the hallway.  It was probably a possum that had gotten into the house to look for food; he'd had to scare one away from the patio a few months ago with the broom.  He considered going back to call animal control, but didn't.  He could handle this.  After all, it was just a stupid animal.

            He stopped at the end of the hallway, which branched off into three bedrooms and a linen closet.  Peering around the corner of the hallway, he saw the attacker was an animal, but not the kind he had expected.

            The stuffed white cat turned and leapt at him.

#

            Not even a living stuffed cat had the mass to knock Will over.  Still it managed to somehow attach itself to his face, yowling and hissing just like a real cat.  He heard Ricky shout, "Lieutenant Catt, stand down!"  A moment later he felt Ricky tumble off his shoulder.

            Will put his hands to his face only to feel a sharp pain in his right hand.  The cat's body muffled his scream.  The stuffed cat slashed at him again, this time cutting his left hand.  Will finally fell back on the floor, his mind still trying to comprehend what was happening.

            He batted at his face with the heel of his right hand.  The stuffed cat fell away from his face.  Will scrambled up to his feet.  He found the metal cane lying a foot away and snatched it off the floor.  Holding it like a baseball bat, he looked around for the stuffed cat.

            "What is—" he managed to get out before he heard a growl from the ceiling.  The stuffed white cat dropped towards him, a metal spike affixed to its front right paw aimed at his eye.  Will brought up the cane, remembering that his career average in Little League had been .011 with his only hit coming on an accidental bunt. 

            He hit the first and last home run of his career, the end of the cane connecting with the side of the stuffed cat's face.  The white cat went flying down the hallway, almost reaching the kitchen.  Like a real cat it landed on its feet, quickly turning to face Will.

            He didn't have time to celebrate before he heard a whine coming from the cat's direction.  A moment later, a marble-sized ball of white light flew from where the stuffed cat sat.  Will held out the cane to bat the ball of light aside, but to his shock, the light vaporized the cane in his hand.  He tossed the molten remains to the floor and then spun around the corner.

            Looking around him, Will searched for another weapon.  All he saw was a wicker basket resting against a pink bedroom door.  It's better than nothing, he thought.  As he seized the basket, he heard a tiny squeak.  Ricky hopped onto the basket and then skittered up Will's arm.  To Will's surprise, the raccoon had a sword attached to his left hand.

            "I'll disarm her," he whispered into Will's ear.  "You trap her with the basket."

            "But how—" Will didn't get a chance to finish as Ricky had already hopped off Will's shoulder to disappear around the corner.

            Not even as a child had Will ever imagined stuffed animals fighting each other the way Ricky and the stuffed cat did.  The raccoon used his tail to propel himself into the air, springing over the white cat.  As he landed, Ricky slashed the sword on his left hand, cutting a strap on the cat's back.  The gun that had slagged Will's cane fell to the floor.  With one stubby leg the raccoon kicked this away.

            The cat hissed, whirling around to use her spike as a sword.  Ricky deflected her wild blows with little difficulty, but it seemed only a matter of time before one of them landed.  If Ricky were hurt here, would his real body in the Bloc of Planetary States feel it?

            Ricky interrupted Will's thoughts by shouting, "Now!"

            Will sprang forward with the basket.  In that moment Ricky finally went on the offensive, swinging in an uppercut that slashed the spike from the white cat's paw.  Then the raccoon sprung back, giving Will an opening to drop the basket onto the cat.  Inside the basket, the cat hissed, spat, and yowled, but it couldn't move the basket with Will's knee on it.

            He heaved a sigh of relief, but the moment was short-lived as he heard a familiar voice shout, "What the hell was that thing?"

#

            A second, smaller voice said, "Jessie, you swore.  Mommy said you shouldn't swear."

            "I did not swear, you little twerp."  Then came the sound of muffled crying.  "I'm sorry.  Come here."  Jessie McCormick appeared around the corner a moment later, cradling a little girl in her arms.  "Will?  What are you doing here?"

            "I heard a commotion," he said.  To emphasize this, the basket beneath his knee rattled.  "Can you get something heavy to put on it?"

            "Oh, sure."  Jessie opened a door and then returned a minute later with a history and a geology textbook.  "Will this work?"

            "I hope so."  Will took the books from her to set on the basket.  The basket rattled again, but didn't move.  "That looks like it'll do it."

            "Is the mean cat gone?" the little girl asked.

            "Yes, it's gone now, isn't it?"

            "That's right, it's gone," Will said.

            "You're the boy from next door," the little girl said.

            "Yes."

            "Mommy says your family is white trash."

            "Oh, well—"

            "Megan, that isn't nice," Jessie said.  She pushed the little girl's dark hair away from her face.  "I think it's time you went back to bed."

            "OK."  Jessie opened the pink door and carried her sister inside.  The room was the same color pink with stuffed penguins scattered about the floor.  For the moment at least none of these seemed to be coming to life.  After setting Megan down on the bed, Jessie picked up a penguin with a red scarf and earmuffs.

            "Here's Percy," she said.  Jessie made some vague quacking sounds until the little girl giggled.  "Now, you two go to sleep and tomorrow I'll make you pancakes for breakfast."

            "Oh boy!" Megan said.  She pressed the penguin to her face and then closed her eyes.  Jessie pulled up the pink comforter to her little sister's chin; she kissed Megan on the forehead before backing away to where Will stood in the doorway.

            Jessie waited until she closed the door to whisper, "Now you can tell me what the hell is going on around here."