Cold Cat Mountain: The Peak (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  “May I have an alcoholic drink?”

  “And what kind of drink would the lady prefer?”

  “Surprise her.” Blaze’s tone was dry.

  The waiter arched his eyebrow.

  Matilda clapped like a child. “Oh- that’s brilliant! Surprise me too!”

  Returning to her slumped posture Matilda looked like a child being read a bedtime story. “Go on,” she prompted, waving her hand.

  Tapping the table top Blaze tightened her lips.

  “I wrote the word Neutered on a post it note and stuck it to his forehead.”

  Matilda slapped her hand over her mouth. “Like in the game ‘Who Am I?’” Blaze nodded and puffed out her cheeks. The interview was an epic fail. It had only been five minutes. Actually, it may have already ended and she was just witnessing its demise from a helpless distance. And hopefully a soon-to-be drunken distance.

  Placing their surprise drinks in front of them, the waiter cleared his throat. “Enjoy your ‘surprise.’ I will return to take your orders in a moment.”

  Matilda bit her lip and smiled at Blaze. “Want to be surprised again? This is rather fun…”

  What the hell. Although surprises were not Blaze’s strong suite she acquiesced and laid her menu aside. Matilda wanted to be surprised for dinner.

  Lovely.

  Blaze lifted her drink and gulped it. It wasn’t bad for something she didn’t know even existed until the present.

  “Yes. Surprise us again.” She murmured, even though she had tried and failed to match Matilda’s gleeful march toward aggravating the chef. Totally annoyed with the spin on their interaction, Blaze rubbed her forehead. Matilda sipped her drink and nodded appreciatively. When he realized Matilda was not kidding about being surprised by the chef the stiff waiter nodded in irritation and left.

  Matilda cocked her head to the side, pointing with her index finger toward the growing red rash on Blaze’s neck. “God, that looks uncomfortable.”

  Blaze slapped her hand to her neck. What the hell was wrong with this woman? Had she never conducted an interview?

  Undaunted Matilda pulled a piece of fruit from her drink and sucked the alcohol from it. Popping it back in her mouth she spoke around the bulge in her cheek. “No worries. I had scabies once. It was awful.”

  Blaze pressed her lips together. So this was what unsuccessful ventures felt like; it was oddly unsatisfying.

  “So, I guess you know my story. Thanks, Pat.”

  Matilda giggled. “You’re funny. Do you mean to be?” Matilda narrowed her eyes. “Not at all,” Blaze responded dryly. “In fact, I had rehearsed for the interview, but Pat sabotaged my chances through honesty, so what the heck. Let’s enjoy the meal and a good laugh about my physical assault on the State Coordinator and go our separate ways.”

  Straightening in her chair Matilda tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. She was younger than Blaze had expected. Youthful even.

  “So, what do you think of being my side-kick?”

  “Like Tonto? You’ll have to clarify. That was a strong drink.”

  Matilda’s chipper approach was disarming. Blaze scratched her neck again.

  “Oh! You shouldn’t scratch that anymore. It looks like you made it bleed. You aren’t very comfortable with interviews are you?”

  “I used to be.”

  Matilda giggled and pursed her lips.

  “Let me ask you a serious question.”

  Blaze allowed some of the tension to leave her shoulders. Seriousness she could handle. Dinner with Betty White had begun stressing her out.

  “Do you believe in Monsters?”

  “And the tension is back.” Blaze rubbed her neck. Their plates arrived and Blaze prayed silently she hadn’t been served anything with eyes. Chefs loved to be reactionary and dramatic. Her Uncle was a chef. He threw plates a lot. .

  Gratefully she noted her plate was without eyes or tentacles, a small blessing on the morbid blind date that had left her hating Pat.

  Matilda cleared her throat, with her fork poised halfway to her mouth.

  “Monsters?” Matilda prompted her to answer the question.

  Blaze leaned back in her chair. Propping her elbow on the table she covered her mouth a moment with her hand, thinking. Then, tilting her head she fought back the images and cries from children who haunted her memories.

  “The only real monsters are us.”

  Matilda looked unaffected. Taking a bite of her food she nodded. “Go on.”

  There was no safe harbor. Blaze took another long swallow of her drink. Setting it down she squarely faced Matilda, gritting her teeth. “I have seen monsters. Daily. I know where they work, what public offices they have run for, what churches they attend. Believe me, Matilda, I would love to live in a world where the only monsters are the ones out there in the dark. Hiding. Scary looking. But the thing is, they aren’t. They are hiding in the flesh and blood of humans, camouflaging. The only thing they have in common with fairly tails is that they reveal themselves to children, after dark, or when no one else is around.” Matilda laid her fork down gently. She leaned back, an expression of sincerity softened her childlike features.

  Blaze felt somewhat ashamed. As though the knowledge of what were out there made her into a pariah to the rest of the world, which it had. Shifting in her seat she felt the claws tighten at the base of her skull.

  “This has not been what I expected, but I want you to know I respect your work and your diligence. I love the fact that in the privacy of this restaurant you even refer to ‘them’ as monsters. What you’re researching is dark. Your curiosity is refreshing. I appreciate who you are. I really do.”

  Matilda pressed her hand to her chest, listening. Blaze forged onward. “Certain things have been revealed to me in the past few months. Things I didn’t know I could be susceptible to. I want you to know I am not a kind or gentle person. I used to be. I’ve lost that. And I want you to know, because this interview has been anything but successful for me so far, that I didn’t only insult the State Placement Coordinator. I gave you the edited version, and I am more than sure Pat did not tell you I pulled the man from his chair and threw him to the floor. I wanted him dead, Matilda. For the things he allowed, for the politically correct tone of his voice, and for feeding our children to monsters at night. He had the ability to stop it, and he didn’t.”

  Matilda took a deep breath. Her eyes were wide. Blaze blinked and almost imperceptibly nodded as she held the present moment against the comparison of who she used to be.

  “I’m as much of a monster as he is.” Blaze spoke in a low tone, almost to herself. She drifted a moment, lost in a place she could no longer see her own reflection in.

  Tearing herself away, and re-entering the present, she shrugged apologetically. “I became ill. It’s something I will have to live with. But when I lost my ability to handle the real monsters, I developed one of my own. I take medication. It’s not 100% effective. I manage though.”

  Matilda sighed deeply and slumped in her chair. Sadness sparkled from behind her lashes.

  “I just thought you should know. Everything,” Blaze offered.

  Matilda raised her glass for a water refill.

  “So, you aren’t scared of the dark, and you don’t believe in monsters.” It was not a question.

  Taken aback Blaze offered a half grin. “Scared of the dark?”

  Matilda smiled. “Well, some of us are. For good reason.” She turned her attention back to her plate of food. “Eat Blaze. Please.”

  Resigned to the meal Blaze began spearing vegetables with her fork.

  They ate in silence for moment.

  “Would it be too intrusive of me to inquire about your illness?”

  Blaze smiled. “It’s complicated. People don’t understand it very well.” She paused. When Matilda urged her onward with her smile Blaze considered the best words, words that would sum up what she had been diagnosed with. “It is call Trigeminal Neuralgia. It is a crani
al nerve that reacts when under pressure by sending electrical shocks from the brain. The shocks can last a moment, or for days. The medical community does not completely understand it. There is no cure. There are treatments, and those treatments can offer temporary relief. However, it is called the Suicide Disease because of the level of pain it produces. I had a recent attack and ended up in the hospital.”

  She rolled up her sleeve to reveal a new medical tattoo on her right wrist.

  Matilda tried to digest the burst of information. Chuckling, Blaze took a sip of water. “Have I freaked you out?” Matilda swallowed her food. Her eyes were huge and she shook her head. “No. In fact, I find this fascinating. I have never heard of it before. No cure? Do the attacks come on randomly?”

  Blaze nodded. “More or less. Thank you, Matilda. It’s not often I am able to share this with someone who shows curiosity. My neurologist believes my condition may have been brought on by Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. So,” Blaze raised her hands, indicating her present situation. “Here I am. I was forced to leave Social Work for health reasons. The doc says I have a monster in the closet, and it drives me sometimes. Medications keep it sleepy and subdued for the most part, but when I experience stress- or even something as crazy as wind on my ear or cheek, I feel an electrical shock. It can knock me on my ass for days.” Blaze smiled broadly, suddenly feeling comfortable. “Ready to hire me now?”

  Matilda waved to their waiter, requesting a second drink. Once he departed Matilda chewed her lip. Looking up she titled her head. “And what do you take for this Trigeminal Neuralgia? To keep the monster asleep, so to speak?” Blaze smiled. “I like that. Asleep. I take anti-seizure medication. It keeps things under control for the most part. But you should know there are days when people with TN experience what we call Breakthrough Pain- and then nothing we take shuts off the pain. Those are days when we simply ride out the pain and suffer through it. I also take a blood pressure medication to offset the PTSD. It’s been working.”

  Matilda chewed a piece of ice thoughtfully. “It is so illegal- me asking you any of this. I want you to know I am aware of that.”

  Smiling Blaze shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Matilda. It’s a part of me now.” They both ate in silence for a few minutes.

  “Blaze?”

  Looking up Blaze took an envelope Matilda extended to her from across the table.

  “Thank you for your time tonight. I mean that. It has been very interesting. Your candor, it’s needed.” Blaze held the envelope, accepting that the interview was ended. Opening it an airline ticket fell onto her lap. Grasping it she looked up at Matilda, who was smiling broadly.

  “Please say you will work with me Blaze. I can’t imagine a more authentic and genuine person, and your skepticism is needed to override the imaginary monsters others may be prone to see. It’s obvious you aren’t easily scared by anything except yourself, and the ugly human qualities you’ve encountered in Social Work. I need that.”

  Blaze placed the ticket on the table, shocked.

  Matilda pointed to it. “My research can be scary. It scares me even. I need someone to work with me though. I’ve just decided. Not for me.”

  Matilda whispered urgently with excitement. “Would you consider taking the position?” “… We have bad dreams

  because our brain is trying to protect us… If we can figure out a way to beat the imaginary monsters … Then the real monsters don’t seem so scary… That’s why we like reading scary

  stories.”

  ― Dan Poblocki

  ~Seven~

  Surprise didn’t sit well with Blaze. She had assumed incorrectly that a scientific mind would seek order. She was wrong. Standing in the center of a room covered from ceiling to floor in papers taped to the walls, Blaze slowly and reluctantly shrugged her shoulder out of her jacket. She paused halfway through the task, turning in a slow circle. Papers of every color, every size, and every condition plastered three of the four walls of the room. It did smell of sandalwood, which was pleasant. But, Blaze had imagined a lab of sorts, orderly, with computers banking the walls, maps and neat work areas. The haphazard put together mess on the walls was a complete surprise. No surprises were good in Blaze’s mind. She had spent the last ten years trying to achieve order from chaos. Currently she was staring the chaos back in the face. She turned again, surveying the room as she clutched her new key.

  There was a desk. An antique roll top placed against one of the walls. Its surfaces too were cluttered, books everywhere around its base, and stacked on the floor nearby. Blaze turned for a third time. Another roll top desk, recently added and with the price tag still on it sat against the opposite wall. Approaching the empty desk Blaze sank down onto the chair. An expensive oriental rug in a burgundy, ivory and beige motif covered the floor. Two large potted plants standing in blue and white pottery planters took up the north and southeast corners of the room. A high window had been crafted beautifully with a stained glass insert crossing the top. Its prism hues cast down light, causing the papered walls to appear shaded in blue, yellow, pink and green. A lofted ceiling, with moldings obviously dating back to the forties rose upward in a graceful pitch to center around the base of an old chandelier, which dangled above the room like an earring.

  “Wow.” Blaze noticed the walls, which appeared to be covered in papers only at first glance actually had dark slender bookshelves in each corner of the room. All four dark cherry wood shelves were filled to capacity.

  Blaze heard a cell phone chiming as the double wood doors to the office sprang open. Matilda stepped through sideways, balancing her phone between her cheek and shoulder, carrying two tall coffee cups. She spoke quickly, winking toward Blaze as she handed her a cup, letting her shoulder bag slide down onto her own chair as she shrugged out of her rain coat.

  “Just tell him I said no.”

  Sipping the coffee Blaze mouthed the word “thank you” to Matilda who grinned, turning her attention back to her conversation.

  “It will not work. I have no idea why he is even considering it. Let him figure it out. I’ve already left him two voicemail's.” Shaking her head as she ended the call, she put the phone on her desk causing a piece of paper to slip to the floor. The stack it had fallen from wobbled and Blaze clenched her teeth in anticipation of a small land slide.

  Matilda ignored the paper on the floor, blowing her hair from her eyes. “Welcome! Are you ready?”

  “I think so.”

  “So, take off your coat already then.”

  Blaze looked down and realized she still hadn’t completely removed her jacket. Sliding out of it she let Matilda take it from her and hang in on an antique coat tree.

  “Just imagine the adventures waiting for us Blaze. Like the Dr. Seuss book- Oh “The Places We Will Go!””

  Blaze grimaced internally. The woman’s enthusiasm was daunting. Matilda sat down and crossed her legs. She wore orange and white striped tights with her feet encased in black ankle boots. She looked a bit like a good witch from a children's story. Re-arranging her long black skirt she bobbed her foot.

  “Where would you like to begin?”

  ~*~ They sprang into the day with bits of random conversation, interspersed with facts Matilda shared generously regarding her focus on Sasquatch. Blaze learned quickly Matilda was a trust fund baby. Old money. She had very little family left, and limited contact between her and the ones who remained. Educated in Europe, she’d developed a fascination with cryptids when she and her college dorm mate attended a lecture presented by a leading Cryptozoologist named Randall Sterling. He had a masters in Archaeology and had studied abroad under the tutelage of impressive minds of his time. Matilda later applied and was accepted for an internship with him. After relocating to the states and swiftly proving her value she was asked to remain on with him as a full time research assistant. It was a coveted position which Matilda accepted. Soon, she was buried behind stacks of books as the wealthy Professors research assistant. Her brilliance was
not overlooked by his department and he’d managed to cunningly take credit for Matilda’s research, building momentum for his speaking engagements based upon her findings and theories. When he asked her to “Ghost Write” a book with him, she’d stood up for herself.

  “I just left. Told him to bugger off. It wasn’t really bright of me. I should have handled it different because he’s been dogging me for years now. But I knew I needed to break away from his reputation if I were to be taken seriously on my own.” She pulled down a newspaper clipping passing it over. She continued to chatter as Blaze scanned the content.

  Matilda’s discovery of a single tooth in the Pacific Northwest had launched a firestorm of evolutionary arguments, and she was catapulted over night from no one, to someone everyone wanted to speak with.

  The article also outlined the field research had taken months, and was touted as her debut step into the field of Cryptozoology.

  Six months after her initial discovery she explained to Blaze she was contacted by her former professor, mentor and boss, Randall Sterling. “He was sorry. He explained he had misunderstood my brilliance due to his own overburdened career. It was a mistake he desired to rectify. Randall offered me private quarters on his family estate in the mountains of Connecticut, a private car, an assistant of my own. The offers enlarged daily. It was the confirmation I actually needed to boost my confidence.” She paused and chewed her lip. “You’d have thought that confirmation would have come with my discovery of the tooth, wouldn’t you?”

  Matilda stood and pointed to several other articles on the walls. It was clear she’d been determined to show the intellectual world her unique abilities. Grant money was fairly simple for her to secure. Before the end of her first two year grant she’d provided definitive proof of the existence of Sasquatch. Proof that had changed the world’s perspective on who Sasquatch was. The article was impressive. Matilda smiled from the cover of National Geographic with a quote just inside the infamous yellow bordered box. “One tooth and Sasquatch has been removed from legend to reality.”