The Cat That Made Nothing Something Again Read online

  Once neither of them had any more to say there was silence.

  The King’s face creased deep with concentration.

  “I dare say,” the King said at last. “I was suspicious of those sponges when they first arrived. Entertainers my foot! And to think I’ve been in their control all this time.”

  “You were not the only one,” the cat said. “Many people had their moisture stolen, and lost much of their free will.”

  “My word,” he retorted. “And you defeated them with one little seed? How extraordinary!”

  The King stood and walked toward the broken window. Both the cat and turtle followed closely behind. Leaning over the edge the King looked out and stared at the rain still pouring down from the clouds.

  “I say, good work, old bean,” shouted the King in the direction of the vine that now covered his palace.

  “My pleasure,” the vine responded. “I am the happiest plant in the world. I have grown fuller than my heart’s greatest desire. Will it be okay for me to live here on this wonderful wall of yours?”

  “You are welcome to live here as long as you want. I mean that for all of you,” the King said now looking at the two by his side. “You are both welcome to stay here in my palace. I will give you your own rooms, a personal servant, plenty of food to eat, and whatever else you desire. What do you say?”

  “That is very kind,” the cat said.

  The turtle nodded his head in agreement. “We gratefully accept your generous offer.”

  “Wonderful!” the King said. “We shall have a feast! But first, we need to get everyone outdoors so that they can reclaim their moisture. Hold on a minute, I didn’t catch your names?”

  “I have no name,” the cat answered. “I am only known as ‘cat’ where I come from.”

  “Well,” the turtle interrupted. “I know I had a name at one time, but when you live as long as I have, you see, one tends to forget such things.”

  “Wot? Wot? That won’t do,” the King said. “We will have to give you both new names then. The Kingdom will need to know who their heroes are. I shall christen you both, that is, as soon as we get things settled here. You will be the honored guests at our feast.”

  All three looked at each other, blushing and brandishing big smiles. It was, after all, a glorious day.

  BOOK TWO

  The Way Home

  Chapter 1

  All the King’s men, women, children and animals were exposed to the rain and regained their stolen moisture. The spores the vine had released drifted far and wide, restoring all the land.

  The King was good to his word and gave both the cat and turtle their own rooms, which were large and beautifully adorned. An elegant canopy bed lined with silk centered the rooms, and windows overlooking the courtyard filled their view with the garden below. They had their own personal servants too, who brought them food whenever they wanted and whatever else they wanted.

  A week or so passed, and the effects of the moisture that the cat overdosed on had worn off. He had a headache that lasted a day or two, but he felt back to normal once it was gone.

  It was a good thing the sponges were destroyed, or he might have been tempted to get more than his fair share again. Even so, the cat realized it was this kind of thinking that lead to the problem to begin with. There was comfort in knowing it was enough just to enjoy the amount he naturally had.

  It was finally the night of the great feast. It took longer than originally thought to get things back to normal, but the cat and his friend didn’t mind—they enjoyed spending time together in their luxurious new home.

  Everyone was seated at the banquet table. There were lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses, and a great deal of common folk too. The table was long and wide, with hundreds of seats. Cutlery of real silver was placed beside china plates and crystal glasses. A huge roast on a great silver platter was the centerpiece of the table. Surrounding it were exotic fruits and vegetables, freshly baked bread, scones with whipped butter, different varieties of soup, cranberry sauce, bread pudding, popovers, egg scuffles, fresh cakes and the list went on.

  Both the cat and turtle sat on either side of the King. The cat tried his best to eat with good manners, but he wasn’t able to use the silverware with his paws, so he forced himself to eat daintily with his mouth. He lapped up soup, tasted the roast, and most importantly enjoyed a bowl of milk.

  The turtle, who had the same problem, was nibbling on a piece of lettuce when the King tapped his spoon against his glass. It tinged loudly, hushing the assembly, and as soon as the conversations died down he spoke.

  “Greetings ladies and gentlemen,” the King said. “We are gathered here today to honor the courageous heroes who have restored to us our kingdom. Let us drink to their health and happiness.” He raised his glass as a cheer arose, and then clicked it against the cat’s, and next the turtle’s. Even though they were not able to hold their glasses themselves, it was still a welcomed gesture of goodwill.

  “Now bring on the entertainment!” the King shouted. Another cheer rose from the assembly.

  The cat’s jaw dropped open as soon as he saw the entertainers walk in. At the head was the same fool that he met earlier on his journey—the very one who only weeks before had jumped out the castle window in fear of his life. To the cat’s surprise there were two other fools with him.

  How unlike his song from before, he thought. What did it say? Something about not needing any friends?

  The fool bowed towards the King, then towards the guests, and next to the turtle and cat—giving him a special wink.

  The cat squinted his eyes, not sure how to take the gesture.

  Then the entertainers settled into formation, with the fool standing in the middle, and his companions kneeling down beside him. A moment later, he started his introduction:

  “Games are good you see,

  they bring us fun and glee.

  But something they cannot be,

  is a friend to me.

  Sweets are good to eat,

  but too much will make you weak.

  Enjoy your good meals too,

  and don’t forget to chew.

  The next time you see a cat,

  be sure to scratch its back.

  And if you see a tortoise,

  please don’t disturb its fortress.

  And don’t forget about the seed,

  It’s because of them we’re freed . . .”

  Just then the other two fools—or the nameless cat supposed, one should no longer call them fools, but rather jesters—jumped up with their heads and arms pointed upward. The leader performed a back flip in the air and landed on top of their hands. The guests clapped and cheered.

  Reaching his arms forward, the fool spread out his fingers like a cat’s claws.

  “What’s the unluckiest kind of cat to have?”

  “A catastrophe!” answered the assistant below his right.

  The cat sneered, but the turtle and others laughed out loud.

  The Jester jumped off his companion’s hands and landed on the ground, forming into a little ball.

  “Where do you find a turtle with no legs?” he asked, peeking through his arms.

  “Where you left it!” answered the other jester.

  This time it was the turtle who didn’t look amused, but the cat laughed—or more appropriately, meowed.

  The three jesters went on to juggle balls, perform acrobatics, tell more jokes, and finally end with a bow. The King stood and clapped as everyone cheered. The jesters bowed again and left the room, falling over each other as they went. More cheers went out until everyone was seated once again.

  The King was the only one left standing. He opened his arms wide and addressed the guests. “My good people, we are here today because of this cat, and this turtle. And let us also not forget the seed that caused the sponges to dry up and crumble away. All three have returned to us our freedom, and all three have been living here in this castle
for the past few weeks—or on the castle in the case of the seed,” he said smiling. “Both the cat and turtle will be given a name, and I have the honor of presenting them to you now.” He motioned to his arms bearer, who brought the King his sword.

  Both the cat and turtle were signaled to stand before him. The turtle went first with his head bowed low.

  “I dub thee, Oliver, tortoise to the King and to his people,” he said while placing the tip of the sword from one side of the turtle’s shell and then to the other. The reptile’s cheeks turned a bright red against his olive green skin.

  Oliver for his olive green skin of course, thought the cat. Brilliant!

  Next the nameless cat came forward. He bowed ever so elegantly. The lady guests looked as if they wanted to run up and stroke his fur, and tell him he was a good cat. And the men wore expressions of pride.

  “I dub thee, Samuel, kitty to the King and to his people.” The blade passed delicately over his head, tapping one shoulder then the other.

  Samuel? He wondered, and then remembered a story. One that came from an ancient book, which history taught was brought by people who called themselves missionaries. They had traveled from a place far over the ocean, and said they were from another world, but that is a different story. The one he was thinking of now was about a man in the book called Samuel. Samuel’s mother, Hannah, had prayed to the creator of life and asked him to send her a little boy. The creator heard Hannah’s prayer and sent her Samuel, who grew up to be a man who served, and the people all liked Samuel very much. The cat wasn’t sure what that had to do with him, but overall it was a nice sounding name. Much better than being called simply “cat.”

  The guests, with standing ovations, applauded and cheered as the King, Oliver and Samuel bowed before them all.

  Chapter 2

  It was another week before the no-longer-nameless-cat became restless. Samuel wondered if his owners had ever come out of their dry condition, and if they ever thought about him. It occurred to him that he loved them, and missed them, and wanted to see them again. It was nice in the castle, but it made his life so easy and soft that it reminded him of the same boring existence he lived before his adventures began.

  One afternoon he approached his turtle friend, Oliver, and told him, “I think it is time for me to go back home.”

  The turtle couldn’t respond. His face turned from green to red and he started to cry.

  “You can come with me,” Samuel said, feeling sad for his friend. He put a paw on his shell.

  “No.” Oliver sniffed. “I’ll only slow you down. Just promise to visit me sometime.”

  “Of course. I will visit you at least once a year. How could I ever forget my good friend?”

  They would have hugged, but being a turtle and a cat made that kind of difficult, so they touched noses instead.

  Samuel visited the King next. He found him jogging in the garden. The King had lost many pounds since taking up exercise. Perhaps the return of his moisture had motivated him to get back into shape.

  “Sire,” Samuel said, “I have come to tell you that I need to go back home. I have been happy staying here with you in your palace, but I miss my owners. Don’t worry though, I will be sure to come back and visit often.”

  “I’m sorry to hear you are leaving,” the King said, jogging in place so not to lose a step. His forehead was sweaty and his face was bright red.

  The King stopped jogging, bent down, and proceeded to scratch the kitty’s head. “You will always have a place here with us. I will keep your room ready and waiting for you.”

  “Thank you, sire.” He purred, and his eyes squinted shut from the pleasure of the King’s scratching fingers.

  Just then he heard a familiar voice, “Goodbye, kitty. Thank you for helping me to find a place that I could grow.” It was the vine.

  “You are welcome,” he said. “Sorry for eating you earlier, but I was hungry and you were in despair, so I thought I’d put you out of your misery. I realize now that anyone’s life can turn around from emptiness to fullness. I should not have made the decision to eat you, for all life is precious and has a purpose.” Samuel felt strange. It was unusual for him to act so philosophical, but he had learned many things since his travels, and it was only right for him to reflect on them.

  “It’s alright,” the vine said. “Because of you I have found my place. I have the entire castle wall as my garden now. No bird can eat me, or thorns rip me to shreds, but it is a little ironic that I was able to grow on rock after all.” Both Samuel and the vine laughed out loud. The King looked puzzled, but soon joined them with a hearty smile.

  Chapter 3

  The next day Samuel pulled himself out of his cozy bed. He turned and stared at the silk sheets. It would be another year before he slept on them again, and for an instant he felt sad, but quickly shook off the feeling. Leaving was the right thing to do.

  He took one last walk around his room before finally getting enough courage to say his goodbyes.

  The dining room was filled with people of the castle who were eating breakfast. His bowl of milk tasted abnormally sour. After the meal was done, he said his goodbyes and headed for the entrance. The King, Oliver, and a few others were waiting for him there.

  The guards opened the gate. A few sniffles sounded and tears were wiped away, but they all supported his decision to go. Once past the guards, he turned and waved his paw until the doors were shut behind him. He heaved a sigh—was this really the right thing to do? It wouldn’t do any good to question his decision now; it was time to go, and they all knew it.

  The guards had resumed their usual posts, holding their spears up and looking alert. At least they seemed alert; one never knew what has happing inside their massive helmets.

  Samuel walked past the bushes where he first met Oliver. A smile creased his face as he looked down at the rocks. How could he have mistaken his friend for one of them? A small giggle escaped his lungs.

  “Thank you,” Samuel said. “I will never forget.”

  The path looked very different this time. He could hardly believe it was the same place. The ground was soft and smooth, frogs jumped across it and teddy bear caterpillars crawled slowly along. Birds sang in the newly lush forest, and other critters scampered amongst its greenery. His pads no longer felt the earth below trying to drain his moisture. He was able to walk softly along without fear.

  After traveling for several hours he began to wonder how he would cross the river. Last time Samuel was able to use the bridge, but now that the troll destroyed it, how would he get to the other side? Since the return of the moisture, the water was sure to be there, and cats really hate to get their toes wet.

  Before he knew it he found himself standing before the troll. A look of shock fell upon Samuel’s face. The beast’s appearance was completely different. A clean, shaven face met his gaze. The creature’s hair was neatly trimmed and combed, and he wore a suit fit for a gentleman. He was a beast no longer.

  The troll recognized Samuel instantly. To Samuel’s surprise, the troll took off his top hat, held it across his chest, and bowed.

  Samuel cautiously approached.

  “Thank you for helping me,” the troll said. “Because of you I no longer have to steal to make a living. Once the rain returned, a change came over me, and I felt like a new troll. A voice inside me told me to build, and so I did. I have constructed a raft out of the wood from the bridge that I so childishly destroyed.” He pointed to a flat wooden boat. “With it, I help people across the water, and they are often kind enough to give me money for my trouble, but I don’t ask them for it. Those who don’t give me anything, I don’t mind, it is my pleasure just to help. I have found my purpose in life, kitty. I used to think it was to be a troll, but now I realize I was meant to be a toll.”

  Bowing in return, Samuel said, “I don’t think you can thank me for that. All I did was help to restore the moisture to its original owners, but I am glad to know you have found your plac
e.”

  “That may be so,” the toll said. “But you have helped me all the same. Please, allow me to take you safely across the water.”

  Samuel happily accepted, and found a place to stand in the large wooden raft. It felt sturdy enough, and he thought that the toll could do worse than to become a carpenter.

  Pushing with a staff, the toll shoved the raft out into the water. It gently glided along the surface as he pushed steadily in and out with the staff.

  “I plan to save up my money,” the toll said, “So that I will be able to buy a rope someday. Once I do I’ll tie each end to a stake on both sides of the river. That way I can get heavier loads across, and I’ll be able to serve more passengers.”

  The cat wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to just construct a new bridge, but he didn’t want to squash the toll’s dreams. He was, after all, doing good for a change. He was sharing his moisture. Perhaps he would figure out, on his own, that a bridge would be the best way to go. He may even pursue a career in carpentry in the end. It did seem ironic, however, that his current system wasn’t that far from what he did before. At least this time he was helping people across the river rather than just demanding money from them.

  The raft landed safely on the bank. They had reached the other side in less than a minute. Thanking him one last time, the toll waved goodbye as Samuel made his way up the path.

  Chapter 4

  The journey home seemed far shorter than the trip to the castle had been. Of course last time Samuel was tired, hungry, thirsty, and didn’t know exactly where he was going. Now he had plenty to eat and drink. There were plants to feast on and all sorts of puddles of water left over from the rain. It rained regularly now, not so much that it made the atmosphere dreary and depressing, but just enough to keep the earth well moisturized. The ground soaked up the fluid like a child devours candy until it was too full to take any more.

  Samuel bent down to drink from a puddle and saw his reflection staring back at him. “You look different now, don’t you?” he said aloud.

  “Yes.”

  Samuel jumped back. Where did that voice come from? he thought.