“I think she likes all of us,” I said. “And equally so.”
Parents shouldn’t have favorites, but nor should kids. And so I liked to think that Grace loved all of us in equal measure.
“So you think I should have kids?” asked Norm. “What do you think, Brutus?”
Brutus laughed. “You’re asking me if you should have kids?” But then his face sagged. “I can’t have kids. I’ve been neutered, you see. So I can’t have kids even if I wanted to. And it was done without even consulting me, you know. Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to have kids.”
“It’s all right, buddy,” I said, patting him on the back. I’d forgotten that the topic of offspring was a sensitive one for our friend. And also for Harriet. But mostly Brutus, since he felt he wasn’t a real cat ever since he had discovered he’d been neutered. At one time, he even considered getting Neuticles: testicular implants for neutered pets. Lucky for us, he’d dropped the idea, or we’d never hear the end of it, and he’d be strutting his stuff every chance he got.
“I’m so sorry, Brutus,” said Norm. “I didn’t know.”
“How could you?” said Brutus. “Nobody knows. Except my best friends—and of course the people that did this to me,” he added bitterly. “Chase’s mom and that criminal vet of hers.”
“We’re all in the same boat here, my friend,” I said.
Brutus sighed deeply. “It’s a cross we have to bear.” He then glanced up at Norm, who had taken up position on top of the big mock-up of a fly, which was a disconcerting sight. “So when you ask me if you should have kids, it’s a yes from me. Before these vets get their hands on you as well and excise the miracle of procreation.” He gave the fly an earnest look. “Just do it, Norm. Do it while you still can. Before it’s too late. Like it’s too late for us.” He produced a single sob and turned away his face so we wouldn’t have to be a witness to his distress.
“You know, I’ve never looked at it this way,” Norm confessed. “But maybe you’re right. It’s my God-given capacity for procreation that sets me apart from a lot of those less fortunate. So maybe I should put it to good use. And also, that way, the name of Norm will live on.”
“So you’ll call your kids Norm?” asked Dooley, interested.
“Absolutely. Well, unless they’re girls, of course. In which case we’ll call them Norma.” Our conversation seemed to have perked him up a great deal. “So if you have no further need for me…”
“No, I think for the moment we’re fine,” I said. “Thanks, buddy.”
“You’re very welcome, Max. Any time I can be of assistance, just holler.”
I had a feeling he was bursting at the seams to procreate, and who was I to stand in the way of nature taking its course?
We watched as he flew off, a song on his lips and a definite breeziness in his wing action, and I think we all thought the same thing: there flew one lucky fly. A fly fly, in other words.
“Okay, so what do we know?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Brutus grumbled. “We know nothing!”
“We know that a cockroach is having trouble with his missus,” said Dooley. “And also that Norm will be a proud father soon of lots of Norms and Normas.”
Brutus gave him a scathing look, and Dooley quickly shut up.
“It’s true, though, isn’t it, Max?” said Harriet. “So far we don’t know a lot about what happened.”
“Norm seems to think Carlos and Mindy are the culprits,” said Brutus. “So maybe he’s right? I mean, they could have done it. Shot the guy and then pretended as if they’d walked in on him lying on the floor? It would explain why the killer has vanished without a trace.”
“But why, Brutus?” I asked. “Why would people who sell bug spray murder a prince?”
That had him stumped for a moment, but he quickly rallied. “I’ll bet he refused to buy their bug spray and so they killed him,” he said.
I shook my head. “That makes no sense at all. If every salesperson who met sales resistance in a potential customer would shoot them dead, the world would be full of dead people.”
“The world is full of dead people,” he grumbled. “And people that should be dead, like the vet that did this to me.” He was pointing to his nether regions, and I had a feeling that he wouldn’t be much help today. And since I felt that our work was done for now, we decided to leave the hotel and go in search of our humans to report. But as we tried to leave the room, we discovered to our dismay that someone had closed the door and had locked us in.
“What’s this?” asked Brutus.
“The door is locked,” Harriet pointed out.
“It’s the killers!” said Brutus. “They know we’re on to them and they’ve decided to make sure we won’t spill the beans.”
Just like his theory that the bug spray salespeople had killed the prince because he didn’t like their product, this didn’t make a lot of sense either. But since I could see that I was setting myself up for an argument I couldn’t possibly win, I decided to leave well enough alone. And since the window that led onto the balcony was closed, it looked as if we were effectively stuck.
“How did Norm get out?” asked Harriet.
“Maybe he flew through the keyhole?” Dooley suggested.
“Or maybe there’s some other way in or out,” said Brutus hopefully. As much as he hates not being able to father kids, he hates being locked up even more. Especially as we had no way of knowing when Odelia or Chase might return. Maybe they had no intention of returning at all, but would only notice us missing tonight when they arrived home after a long day at the office. In which case we’d be locked in there for a very long time—with no food or water.
“I don’t like this,” Brutus grumbled. “I hate being locked up. Being locked up stinks.”
I placed a paw around his shoulder. “I’m sorry that you were neutered, buddy, and I’m sorry that you’ll never have kids. But can you please lighten up a little? We’re stuck in a room with no way out, and it’s important that we keep our wits about us, and our mood up.”
“Okay, fine,” he said without much excitement. “So what do you suggest we do?”
I shrugged. “What can we do? Sit tight and wait until someone opens that door?” Harriet had been humming a little tune, and suddenly I got a bright idea. “You know, maybe you could sing us a song, Harriet,” I suggested. “Just to keep the energy up, you know.”
“Oh, absolutely!” she said. “What do you want to hear, Max? Any special requests?”
“Just pick your favorite song,” I said.
She smiled broadly, happy at the chance of having an audience. Dooley gave me a pained look. “Are you sure, Max?” he whispered. “We are in a confined space, you know.”
