The Cat of Christmas Past Read Free Page A

“Wherever had you gotten off to?”
    The cat meowed and trotted inside.
    “This is your cat?” I asked the emaciated old man.
    “It is. Who are you? And what are you doing on my property?”
    “My name is Caitlin Hart. I live on Madrona Island. I found Ebenezer last night at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church and he led me here today.”
    The old man, who I assumed to be Balthazar Pottage, turned and looked at the cat, who had jumped onto a table just off to the side and begun to purr.
    “Damn cat,” the man grumbled, but I noticed there was warmth in his eyes as he picked him up and started down the hall. “Close the door behind you,” he instructed.
    Was the man inviting me in? He’d told me to close the door behind me, but had he meant come in and then close the door, or simply close the door on my way out? Because he hadn’t specified, I decided to take my chances and come in. I closed the door and then followed the man down the hall.
    The dark hardwood doors on either side of the hall were all closed. Eventually the man turned into an open room that was cozy in a shabby sort of way. There was a nice fire in the large stone fireplace that seemed to be the only heat supplied to the room. Or the whole house, for that matter. It was almost as cold in the house as it had been outside.
    The white-haired man sat down in one of the chairs placed in front of the fireplace. The cat looked quite content as he curled up in his lap. I looked around the room, trying to decide what to do. There was an old sofa, but the distance from the fire was twice that from the chairs, so I decided to sit down across from my host in the other chair.
    “Nice house,” I said, trying for polite conversation. I noticed a half-eaten bowl of broth on a table next to the chair.
    “Bah.”
    “I take you’re Balthazar Pottage?”
    “Who wants to know?”
    “I told you. My name is Caitlin Hart.”
    “Why are you here?”
    “To return your cat. At least I guess I’m supposed to return him. He showed up at the church last night and then led me here this afternoon.”
    “Hmph.”
    I noticed the man didn’t seem at all surprised that his cat had been found miles away on another island or that Ebenezer had managed to communicate with me his intent to pay a visit to the house today.
    In spite of the fact that I was sitting across from the man he didn’t say another word. He just stared hypnotically into the fire, as if I weren’t even in the room. How in the heck was I supposed to find a smooth segue into a discussion concerning the Bayview Apartments if he wasn’t inclined to speak to me?
    “I suppose I should be going, now that Ebenezer is safely home,” I began.
    The man didn’t answer.
    “I’m glad I finally had a chance to meet you. I’ve always wondered about your house. You can’t see it from the water with all the trees on the property. I hadn’t realized it was so large. From the outside it appears to have three full stories. Is there an attic at the top? It’s hard to tell for certain based on the roof line alone.”
    The man closed his eyes. Was he going to sleep? I knew I was rambling, but I figured it was better to keep talking than to let the conversation die. Even if said conversation had, to this point, been one-sided at best.
    “I imagine it gets lonely living here all alone in this big house. I guess it’s a good thing you have Ebenezer for company,” I continued to babble. “He seems like such an agreeable cat. I really enjoyed my time with him. Still, it’s odd he showed up all the way over on Madrona Island. I wonder how he got there.”
    The man didn’t respond.
    “I suppose he must have stowed away on one of the boats that brings you supplies. I’m sure you must get deliveries of one sort or another on somewhat of a regular schedule. Food, propane, that sort of thing. Do you travel to the other islands often? I’ve heard you prefer to remain on your island most of the time.”
    The man still didn’t