Crazy Cat Kid (Crazy Cat Kids Book 1) Read online

  There was a plastic privacy cover to fit on the outside of the windshield for when we stopped at night. Dad and I unfolded it to try it out. There were pockets on the side flaps and we slipped them over the open cab doors. When we closed the doors the cover was pulled tight across the windshield.

  “So we have to do this every morning and night,” Dad said, as we removed it. “This is a very inconvenient way of doing things. I’ll be back.”

  Dad drove downtown and soon came back with a pool cue. He draped a bed sheet over the cue and pushed it between the mattress of my overhead bed and the barrier that holds the mattress in place. The sheet could fold up on my bed when not in use and unfold to hang between the cab seats and the bench seat. An easy privacy curtain.

  In our house I had two pails of dry food set out so my girls could eat when they wanted. Occasionally, I bought canned cat food as a treat. When Saltry was diagnosed with diabetes last year, I was told she needed a shot of insulin twice a day and she had to have it with food. I had to figure a way to get her to come for a meal.

  Since they liked the canned food, I began dividing half a small can among the girls at the same time morning and evening. It wasn’t long before Saltry showed up for her food and needle. The other three soon learned to tell time, also. To replace their treat I bought a packet of hard cat treats and put them in a plastic container. When I wanted their attention I would shake it. Their ears perked up and they all came running when they heard the rattling.

  I bought some small paper plates to give them their breakfast and supper meals while camping. I also set out an ice cream pail of dry food and one of water below the fridge. They were against the table bench seat and out of our way. I put a fresh pail of kitty litter and a large bag of dry cat food in one of the outside compartments. I had coffee cans to use for scoops in each of them.

  Dad and I discussed where to put the litter box and decided under the table.

  “We’ll be eating most of our meals outside,” Dad said. “Plus, we won’t be banging into it there.”

  The screen door had a small square plastic cover in it that opened so we could get to the handle of the outside door and open it. The cover closed to keep the flies and mosquitoes out. To prevent the screen door from accidently opening and letting the cats out when the outer door was opened, Dad made a hook out of wire that he attached to the wall. We could fasten this hook to the corner of the cover opening in the screen door. I added a round two-story cat house which Dad and I anchored to one of the swivel chairs.

  Mom wanted to take a vehicle so that we could tour around without having to drive the motorhome. Dad found a tow bar to attach Mom’s car to rear of the motorhome. The first week we would be staying at the lake lot of one the team members. One of the requests of the hosts was that everyone bring their own supply of wood for their fires. Dad loaded some from the pile the previous acreage owners had left into the car trunk.

  We were ready.

  Mom’s first race was Saturday morning and she had to be at the site an hour and half before the race. She left before I was even up. I gave Saltry her needle then Dad and I drove to Maffeo Sutton Park where the festival took place. The park contained Swy-a-Lana lagoon. The manmade lagoon was tiny. It had a small beach and on the ocean end were short cement walls. During high tide the ocean waters entered the lagoon and then the water spilled over the walls back into the ocean during low tide.

  We stood along the paved path that ran around three sides of the lagoon. The teams walked this path from the Paddler’s Village to the dock and the waiting dragon boats. We high-fived Mom as she walked by, her paddle in the air and a big grin on her face. While her team was loaded into their dragon boat, we went to the shore to cheer them as they paddled the five hundred meter course.

  After the race the team had to go back to their tent in the village for a debriefing and to take off their lifejackets and leave their paddles. Dad and I waited outside the high wire fence around the tents. Only the teams were allowed inside and each team member had a bracelet on their wrist that they had to show to the security guards at the gate before being allowed in.

  When Mom came out, we went and ordered hamburgers and fries at one of the food vendors. We found a table and Mom told us about her first dragon boat race.

  “It’s so exciting,” Mom said, her face glowing. “We’re supposed to keep our eyes on the two women who are our strokes at the front of the boat and keep our paddle stroke in time with theirs. But during the excitement of the race it’s hard not to paddle faster, especially with the steerspersons of all the other teams yelling around us. We start out with sixteen fast strokes and then settle into paddling about seventy-five percent of our ability. Three times during the race we have to do a ten-stroke power at one hundred percent. Then there is the finish at one hundred percent. I was getting so tired I was beginning to think I wouldn’t make the last push to the finish line.”

  “You looked good out there,” Dad said. “I got some great pictures.”

  “And your team placed second,” I said.

  “Yes, but it’s our total time of all three races that counts.”

  We wandered through the merchandise vendors looking at the dragon boat jewelry, the t-shirts with dragons on them, the paddle covers, the paddling pants with padded seats, paddling gloves, lifejackets, and much more. Dad paid for a massage for Mom then bought her a black t-shirt with a yellow dragon on it and some dragon earrings. He bought me a necklace with a dragon pendant.

  We watched Mom’s second race then went home. When Mom came home she wanted a shower and then they were meeting some of the team members back at the beer garden. I stayed home to give Saltry her evening needle and also because I wasn’t old enough to drink.

  Mom was up again early Sunday. Dad went to watch but I remained back to keep an eye on the girls and to put the perishables in the fridge and freezer which Dad had turned on the night before. When Mom and Dad returned, Dad and I began to load my cats in the motorhome while Mom showered and changed.

  Purple was the first. Dad carried her to the motorhome and put her inside. I stayed with her while she slowly checked the place out. She was not impressed and went to the camper door. I held her while Dad placed Daisy on the floor. She, also, was not happy at being locked in. He had to go looking for Red and found her heading to the back of our property.

  While we waited for Dad and Saltry, the three cats took turns going to the windows and looking out and meowing loudly. They went to the door and tried to find a way to open it.

  “It’s okay,” I told them. “We’re just going on a short trip and then we’re camping. You’re going to be fine.”

  Their continued meowing told me they thought otherwise.

  Saltry was the only who accepted that she was in the motorhome and she laid down on one of the chairs.

  With Mom showered and everyone loaded, we set off. I was belted in the bench seat. The cats didn’t take well to the noise of the motor and the swaying of the vehicle as we drove south on Cedar Road to Highway 1. Saltry began to low throaty howl. I guess being in the motorhome while it sat in our yard was different from being in the motorhome moving down the road.

  Purple meowed and ran up and down the camper. She climbed on the table to look out the window. I tried petting her but she ignored me. She sat on the back of my seat and meowed in my ear.

  Red slunk low and paced up and down the aisle. When she climbed on the table and looked out, I pulled her into my arms to calm her. She fought to get away and went back to her pacing on the floor.

  Daisy disappeared.

  Whenever we stopped for a traffic light, Red and Purple immediately went to the window over the table and meowed. As soon as we’d start driving, I would reach out to make sure they didn’t slide off the table. With the clatter of the engine and the clamoring of the cats it was a noisy drive.

  I tried to talk to them, to assure them we would be there soon, but they didn’t listen. Mom glanced back at us once and then she
and Dad ignored the din.

  We drove south past Ladysmith and reached a set of traffic lights at Highway 18, also known as the Cowichan Valley Highway, just north of Duncan. Dad turned onto that highway. The lake lot was just west of Honeymoon Bay on Cowichan Lake. The team member and her husband had a small cabin on it so there was supposed to be plenty of room for those who were coming in their campers.

  Eventually, the girls quieted. Purple laid on the swivel chair that didn’t have the cat house on it. Red went into Mom and Dad’s bedroom. Saltry came up and wanted on my lap. I rubbed her ears and pet her as we drove.

  I watched the scenery as we crossed a set of railway tracks and drove past a golf course. I saw signs for Drinkwater and Tansor roads then we drove what seemed a long ways before we reached a Y in the road. Dad got into the left lane and turned left at the Y. I read the sign for the road straight ahead: Youbou.

  “Did you see that sign?” I asked, laughing.

  “The one for Youbou?” Mom asked.

  “Yes. What is a Youbou?” I was thinking it could be someone who lived in Whoville with the Grinch or maybe it was a neighbouring town to Whoville.

  “It’s a former mill town along the lake.”

  Well, that was disappointing. “Where did it get its stupid name?’

  “Apparently it was named after the general manager and the president of the company that operated the first sawmill here, the Empire Lumber Company. The general manager’s name was Mr. Yount and the president was Mr. Bouton. Hence, Youbou.”

  “Youton would have sounded better,” Dad said.

  We reached another Y and this time Dad went right. We drove along South Shore Drive through the town of Lake Cowichan. I tried to see as much as possible out the windows. Central Park was to the left. It didn’t look as if the traffic going our way could turn into it, not that Dad would want to with our big motorhome and car behind. We crossed a bridge over the Cowichan River, and went past Ohtaki Park on the right and the Forest Workers’ Memorial Park on the left.

  Further on was Saywell Park and the Kaatza Place Museum. We continued along the South Shore road out of town, and into the countryside. We passed Mesachie Lake and drove through the hamlet of Honeymoon Bay.

  “We have to turn onto Walton Road and then watch for black balloons,” Mom said, as we left Honeymoon Bay and were driving through bush again.

  Dad slowed and turned right onto Walton Road. We all scanned the road ahead.

  “There they are,” Mom said, pointing to five balloons that were bouncing from a tall stake beside a gravel driveway.

  Dad carefully turned in and drove the short distance to a large opening in the bush. There was a small cabin to the left with two holiday trailers set up beside it. One motorhome was across from them. Dad unhooked the tow bar and left it and the car in a corner out of the way. He backed in beside the motorhome. It was almost eight o’clock.

  Dad turned off the engine, opened the cab door, and climbed out. Mom bent over so as not to hit her head on the underside of my bed and came back into the camper. I undid my seatbelt and stood.

  Saltry got up and stretched. I went looking for Daisy. I saw a lump under the covers of Mom and Dad’s bed. I lifted them. Daisy stared up at me. I left them open but she crawled further under out of sight.

  I heard Dad pull out the steps then he opened the outside door and latched it. I hooked the wire in the corner of the handle opening. Red and Purple heard the noise and dashed to the screen door. This was the way they had come in and this was the way out. They stood on their hind legs and put their front paws on the screen. They belted out their displeasure in high pitched yowls. A couple walking by stopped and looked around wondering what that howling was. One man laughed and pointed at our door. The woman joined in as they saw the frantic looks on my cats’ faces. I’m sure my cats were trying to tell the onlookers.

  “Help! Help! We’ve been kidnapped.”

  “They don’t sound happy,” the man told Dad.

  “They weren’t happy the whole drive here,” Dad said.

  I picked them up in each hand and moved them away from the door. They weren’t to be distracted and headed back. This time, though, they were quiet as they watched Dad set up the folding table and chairs. While Mom made macaroni and beans for our supper, I dished out the cat food. Daisy and Saltry came to eat and I gave Saltry her needle. I picked Red off Mom and Dad’s bed and carried her out to her plate of food. She sniffed it and then walked back to the bed. When I did the same with Purple she, too, ignored the food. She went to the front and jumped up on the dash to look out. Daisy joined her on the passenger’s seat.

  Other campers pulled in around us until there were two lines of campers with plenty of room in the middle for socializing. There was a lot of activity as fires were started in the metal fire rings provided, picnic tables and chairs set up, and rugs rolled out in front of doors. This kept all the girls occupied for a while although Red and Saltry had a limited view from the door.

  After we ate our supper, Mom and Dad decided to go and mingle with the other team members and spouses.

  “Come with us,” Mom said.

  “No. I’ll stay with the girls and keep them company.” I think they knew part of the reason was because I didn’t want to be near the fires.

  Dad and Mom went to the screen door. This got Purple’s attention. She hurried over to join Red and Saltry. I took Saltry and put her up on my bed then went back and picked up Red and Purple. They fought as I stepped away. Dad opened the screen door and he and Mom went out. He hooked the wire again. I set the girls down and they immediately hurried to the door.

  I lowered the blinds on the windows and pulled the sheet down to block off the cab. I went to the bathroom and changed into my pajamas. There was still food on the cats’ paper plates so I scraped it all onto one and left it by the water pail. Maybe someone would want a snack.

  Up on my bed I turned on the light over my head. I began to read one of the novels I had brought. Saltry was the first to have a drink and use the cat litter. Daisy was next. Red and Purple didn’t even look at the water pail or litter box. I hoped they would settle in soon. We were in this motorhome for three weeks.

  The first time Daisy came up to my bed she found the spare blanket I had put in the far corner and kneaded with her claws for a while before coming and lying beside me. When she wanted to leave, she paced up and down the edge looking for a way down. I finally picked her up and set her on the back of the table bench seat.

  Soon Saltry jumped up beside me. She wandered the bed then finally peered out the window at my feet. I looked over the edge of the bed and saw Purple and Red sitting at the screen door. I felt sorry for them. They didn’t understand why they were being kept in.

  I could hear the crackling of the fires outside and the talking and laughter. After a few minutes I shut the light off and pulled aside the curtain of the small window at my head. In the firelight I saw adults milling around, drinks in their hands. Young kids chased each other, screaming in the dark. I watched the flames flicker in the night. At one time I would have been out there enjoying the fire with everyone else. At one time.

  The owners of the lake lot had set a rule that all noise had to cease at eleven o’clock. As the time neared everyone put the fires out, said goodnight, and entered their camping homes. Mom and Dad came to the screen door. I climbed down and ran interference with Red and Purple so they could come in. Dad shut the outside door blocking the girls’ view.

  “Good night, sweetheart,” Mom and Dad said, in unison, as they went into their bedroom and closed the door.

  “Night,” I replied, returning to my bed.

  There was a short curtain that could be closed across the edge of my bunk to block me off from the rest of the motorhome. I left it open so my cats could join me.

  When Daisy came back up to my bed she slept for quite a while on the spare blanket and then jumped down on her own. After that she was up and down with no problems.

&n
bsp; I learned that I had to lay near the far wall and window to give the girls room to walk around and lay down without getting too near the edge and risk falling off.

  Red didn't came up and that could be because she doesn’t jump, she pulls herself up with her front claws. The angle from the backrest of the bench seat to my mattress was too steep and the distance between them too great for her to pull herself up. She slept on the empty swivel chair.

  Tomorrow I will move the cat house to the bench seat and see if Red could use it to climb up, I thought, as I drifted off to sleep.

  During the night I woke to a noise I couldn’t place. It was a tinny bang. I opened my eyes and looked around. It was too dark to see much so I turned on my light. Purple must have decided it was time to cause a little commotion. She was on the table between the chairs swatting at the blinds trying to make them move out of her way.

  “Stop it,” I hissed at her.

  She looked up at me and went back to her swatting.

  “What’s that noise?” Dad called.

  “It’s Purple playing with the blinds,” I said.

  “Well, make her stop.”

  She realized that hitting the blinds wasn’t working so she stuck her paw through the slats and bent them so she could see out.

  “You’re going to wreck them.” I climbed down and pulled her away from the blinds. I put her up on my bed hoping to divert her attention. She jumped down immediately but didn’t go back to the blinds.

  I was mildly surprised to wake later and find Purple sleeping with me and even purring.

  Chapter Three

  I woke in the morning to the whistle of the tea kettle and Mom and Dad discussing a shower.

  “There’s a shower here?” I asked, rolling over so I could see them. We had been told it would be primitive camping, which equated to no water or power hookups. We would have to be careful with our water use. Dad had bought a generator so we could keep our batteries charged up.

  “Well, it’s not really a shower,” Mom said, as she spooned instant coffee into mugs. “From what we heard last night, it’s just a black plastic barrel set up on a platform. The barrel heats up in the sunshine and warms the water. There is a short hose with a shower head. You turn a tap and gravity feed lets the water sprinkle out.”