Chapter 3

The judge laughed, picking up a wand with a feather on the end. He teased Tache, spinning the feather and therefore Tache, around the table.

“I wish my cat did that up there. The judges’ love it when they play,” a woman standing next to her said.

The judge lifted the feather up a scratching post that sat on the table and Tache followed it up, stretching himself out.

“Very nice Bengal. Nice random spotting, no rib bars, medium fat tail. Excellent ear set. Excellent attitude,” the judge said, smiling

“Yelp,” Tache said, telling everyone he was the best.

Paxine took a deep breath. Tache was showing off. He wasn’t ruining anything. He…

Whack.

His tail hit the feather, sending it flying off the table.

“Nice deadly weapon.” the judge said with a chuckle and the crowd laughed and clapped.

“What a character,” JayLee said, coming up behind Paxine.

“Yeah, but boy do the judges love that. Is he yours?” the woman standing next to them asked.

“H-he’s mind,” Paxine said with a smile and a growing sense of pride.

The judge put Tache back in to the cage and cleaned his table.

Tache sat, looking smug.

Show off, Paxine thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Tache knew how to be a show cat better than she did.

“Beautiful Bengal female,” the judge said, examining the next kitten, who seemed intent on capturing the feather the judge twirled around.

The judge cleaned his table and took out the next kitten, another Bengal male. This kitten played a little, but looked more scared than anything. The judge placed that kitten back and cleaned his table and hands. He stared at a sheet where he placed marks about each kitten, then turned to stare at the kittens, grabbing plastic pieces as he turned.

Tache stared back as if daring the judge. From where Paxine stood, it seemed as if a staring contest was occurring between the judge and Tache.

The judge moved, breaking the illusion as he hung three plastic pieces on each cage, doing Tache last. Each plastic piece contained a number and a letter. The female kitten received a 3C, 3D, and a 3rd Best of Breed. The other male Bengal received a 2C, 2D and 2nd Best of Breed. Tache received a 1C, 1D, and a Best of Breed.

“What does that mean,” Paxine said, stunned. Tache got a Best of Breed?

The judge moved on to the next kitten, a big chunky gray British Shorthair. The clerk flipped down the numbers of the Bengals.

“Bengals may go,” the clerk said as the owner of the other male Bengal moved in to retrieve his kitten.

“Oh,” Paxine said, moving up to the cages, realizing she had to get Tache. “Is that it?” she said to JayLee, as she stepped away from the cages with Tache, but it wasn’t JayLee who answered her.

“No, after the judge sees all of them, he’ll call back the best ten. That’s what everyone is really after,” said a woman heading toward a show cage with funny looking short-curly-haired kitten.

“Oh, thanks,” Paxine said, heading back to their table.

“Good going, Tache,” JayLee said in a whisper.

“But what do the numbers and letters mean?” Paxine said, finding she had to go the long way around to get back to her table because of the crowd. JayLee followed her, explaining.

“The cats are judged on color, thus the 1C, 2C, up to 5C, and division, thus the 1D, 2D, and 3D. Therefore, all brown bengals are judged separate from the snow bengals. And all marble bengals are judged separate from the spotted,” JayLee said. “Then the judge judges all of them against each other and that’s where you get the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Best of Breed.”

“Wow, Tache got first,” Paxine said in awe.

“Means he will probably go back up into that Ring and get a final,” JayLee said.

“How’d, ah, your cat do?” Paxine said, remember she wasn’t supposed to know JayLee.

“Third,” JayLee said.

“Yerrrr,” EJ said with a growl of disappointment as she rode on JayLee’s shoulder.

“Sorry EJ. The judge must like the boys,” JayLee said as they finally reached their tables.

“Boy, it’s really getting crowded in here. Hard to move,” Paxine said, starting to put Tache back in his cage.

“Uhm,” JayLee said, clearing her throat and Paxine just caught the call…

“Shorthaired kittens to Ring five, please,” a clerk called through the microphone.

Paxine spun on her heels to hurry to get Tache in the show cage, only to stand there for a long time. The clerk was ahead of herself and the judge was slow, taking what felt like an hour to look at each kitten and play with them.

Her grandma was talking with Judge Sampling’s wife. Paxine already knew from watching her parents and their political friends, that contacts were important, and if it so happened that a woman’s husband was a successful executive or politician, so much the better. However, if they happened to be one of the people behind the scenes then you had an inside source to be nurtured. That explained her grandma’s large faithful following of Portuguese housekeepers (one of which was her grandma’s own) that helped keep her grandma abreast of events and news.

“Yeowl.”

EJ’s voice filled the show hall, causing her grandma to look up. JayLee was up in another ring with EJ, who was making it clear she didn’t like being judged especially since the judge’s hands were cold.

Her grandma smiled, shaking her head, going back to her conversation with Mrs. Sampling.

Paxine could imagine JayLee’s mental message to EJ to be quiet, but EJ continued to complain until she was put back into the show cage.

“Bengals may go,” the clerk said, jolting Paxine back to her own ring as owners moved up to remove their kittens. She almost forgot to see how Tache was judged. He was first again.

“EJ, you be quiet. This is not what you are here for,” JayLee said as she joined Paxine back at their tables.

Paxine kept from laughing, but Tache flicked his tail at EJ, rubbing it in that he was doing better than she.

“Well, that was a fast and furious start,” Paxine said, looking around at the other rings. “I don’t see us up for a while.”

Tache banged the cage.

“Just chill. Remember you’re working,” she said in a quiet voice to him.

“Yeah, remember that,” JayLess said to EJ.

Paxine paged through the catalog. “Hey, some rules. Maybe I should read them,” she said, settling down in the chair.

Tache ignored her, crunching some food.

People passed up and down the aisle. Most kept quiet as they looked as if a loud noise would startle the cats. A few asked questions to the adults around her, but no one spoke to her. Then someone sat down next to her.

“Hi,” Beth said.

“Hi. How’s your mother’s cat doing?” Paxine said in surprise.

Beth shrugged. “Too early to tell I think.”

Paxine’s grandma strolled by, handing her a soda.

“Thank’s, grandma. This is Beth,” Paxine said, taking the soda.

“Hi, Beth,” her grandma said. “Enjoying the cat show?”

“Hi,” Beth said with a shrug, referring to the cat show.

“Would you like a soda too?” her grandma said.

Beth’s eyes lit up, then she glanced toward her mother. “No thanks, I better not.”

“Well, here,” her grandma said, taking out two paper cups from her handbag. “Paxine will share. A little sip can’t hurt.” Her grandma’s eyes were already looking down the aisle, then she was gone, moving into the crowd.

Paxine was careful to put half of the soda in each cup.

“So what does your dad do?” Beth said, blurting out the question; however, she didn’t seem interested in an answer. She chugged the soda, giggling as she burped.

“He’s a lawyer,” Paxine said, not giving any further details.

“Oh,” Beth said, fiddling with a ribbon on her shirt.

Paxine guessed her mother had put her up to this.

“It must be fun when you have kittens,” Paxine said, smiling at the thought of a house full of little Taches.

“I don’t know. I never know when there are kittens. I’m not allowed to play with them anyway,” Beth said, looking at the ground.

“No? But…but who does play with them? They have to be played with,” Paxine said in astonishment.

“Mom has special people who work with the cats. I’m not allowed to go near them. I might make them sick,” Beth said, not looking like she wanted to talk about her mom’s cats.

“Oh, that’s no fun. I play with Tache all the time,” Paxine said, turning the conversation to Tache.

“I saw him. He was funny batting his number around,” Beth said with a giggled. “Judges like that.”

“Yeah, he plays chess the same way. I call it cat chess,” Paxine said.

Beth giggled again. Then she looked a little sad. “I wish I had a cat. I mean one I can play with. But…” she said, her face brightening, “I’ve a friend who has a dog. He’s a really nice dog. Bando’s really nice.”

“What type of dog is Bando?” Paxine said.

“No,” Beth said, giggling. “Bando’s my friend. Charlie’s the dog.” She giggled some more. “I don’t know what kind of dog. Just a dog.”

“Where do you go to school? What grade are you in?” Paxine said.

“I’m in fourth and I go to St. Margaret’s Girl’s school. I stay there all week. On weekends we go to cat shows,” Beth said, not looking too happy again.

Paxine’s grandma passed by again, and Paxine realized something was missing.

“Tache, where’s Tinder?” Paxine said. Her grandma never went anywhere without Tinder, her Tail.

Tache gave a lazy yelp.

“Who’s Tinder?” Beth said.

“My grandma’s cat. She doesn’t show her,” Paxine said.

“What did Tache say?” Beth said, looking serious.

“Oh, he said she’s hiding under the table,” Paxine said, lifting up the sheet, revealing Tinder.

Tinder didn’t look like she appreciated Tache snitching on her hiding place. She was too large now to fit inside Paxine’s grandma’s handbag, which is how she once traveled. Tinder opened her mouth in a silent meep to acknowledge her presence.

“Gosh. She’s a cool color,” Beth said.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a color that can’t be shown. My grandma calls it defective. I don’t think she’s defective, and I think she’s cool too,” Paxine said, reaching for a bottle. “Here, you can pet her. We have hand cleaner too. Your mom’s not at your table so you’re safe.”

Beth giggled as she pet Tinder.

Paxine dropped the table cloth, startling Beth. “Your mom’s coming this way.”

“Thanks. I better go,” Beth said, heading in the opposite direction.

Mrs. Talassee bustled by with a frown, clutching her cat in an overprotective manner.

“Your number is being called,” Beth said, rushing down the aisle as if she was trying to catch up with her mother.

“Second call for short-haired kittens, Ring 3,” the clerk announced again.

Paxine jumped up, grabbing Tache. Even JayLee seemed caught off guard, tapping her shoulder for EJ to hop on as they too were getting a second call for short-haired cats in another ring.

“So sorry. Didn’t hear,” Paxine said, shoving Tache into the cage, only to have the judge take him right back out for judging.

“I think you’re up in the next ring right after this one,” JayLee said. “Then lunch break. The Rings that have already done kittens are breaking for lunch.”

“Wow their moving fast,” Paxine said, still catching her breath.

“It’ll slow down. Goes in spurts,” a woman beside her said. “Running one moment, sitting for hours the next.”

That exactly described the rest of the day. Once moment Paxine was running around putting Tache in judging cages and the next, she was sitting, waiting, while all the time trying to keep track of her grandma, Mrs. Talassee, Beth, and everything else.

“Paxine,” JayLee said in a whisper, nudging her.

Tache was staring at Paxine, waiting for her to take him out the judging cage, his last Ring for the day.

“Sorry,” Paxine said, snapping out of a daydream.

The show wound down at five. The last Ring final ended and ten people with their house pet cats paraded by with pride. People left their show cages setup, putting their cats in a carrier and leaving. The hall emptied.

“This is exhausting,” her grandma said, pulling up a chair, sitting next to Paxine.

“And you’re not even showing a cat,” Paxine said, poking fun at her.

“Yes, I know. How is Tache doing? And what’s wrong with EJ?” her grandma said with a tired sigh.

“Yeowl,” EJ said, complaining.

“You’re not a show cat, stop complaining. Tache just got lucky,” JayLee said, trying to console EJ.

“Yeowl,” EJ said, complaining louder.

“Shush,” JayLee said.

“Check out Tache’s ribbon,” Paxine said with excitement.

“He what? Three finals? Goodness, that’s wonderful,” her grandma said.

“Yeah, but now he’s ignoring EJ because she didn’t get any,” Paxine said, bopping Tache on the head. He ignored her.

Her grandma shook her head. “I didn’t know he had it in him.”

“Yelp,” Tache said, telling her he had a lot in him. He lashed his tail at her, but her grandma knew enough to dodge his tail.

“And I believe EJ is a lot faster than you, so I wouldn’t snub her too much,” her grandma said in warning, but Tache ignored her.

“We have to come back tomorrow,” Paxine said with a moan, dropping her shoulders in exhaustion.

“What are you complaining about? Your cat is doing wonderful,” her grandma said.

“Poor Beth,” Paxine said, speaking in a whisper. “She has to go every weekend, and she can’t touch a cat.”

Her grandma nodded. “Let’s pack up and debrief at home.”

***

Her grandma’s cube dinged its arrival. The door opened to reveal Marietta, her grandma’s housekeeper, waiting for them in the living room.

“Boa noite,” Marietta said, speaking Portuguese and saying ‘good evening’.

“Oi,” Paxine said, saying ‘hi’. Because of Marietta, she knew both Spanish and Portuguese.

“Jantar,” Marietta said, telling them dinner was on the table.

“Thank you, Marietta,” her grandma said. “We’ll take it from here.”

Marietta nodded, leaving for the evening.

Paxine dropped her backpack on the floor on her way to the kitchen. Tache disappeared to sleep since he had been up all day.

“How was Beth?” her grandma said, pouring herself some iced tea as Paxine poured herself some milk.

“Not happy,” Paxine said, filling her plate with Marietta’s savory stew and then filling her mouth. “Her mob doent wet her toush cats.”

“Swallow first, please,” her grandma said.

“Sorry. Her mom never lets her touch their cats,” Paxine said.

“What did you do about that?” her grandma said, filling her plate with stew.

“I let her pet Tache and Tinder,” Paxine said.

“What did you talk about?” her grandma said, taking a bite of stew.

“Usual kid stuff. She also asked me a question about my dad,” Paxine said, pausing to think about that.

“Interesting,” her grandma said, fiddling with her food.

“Obviously, her mother put her up to it,” Paxine said before filling her mouth again.

“Obviously. It appears we have hit a sore spot.”

“Hum.” Paxine chewed and swallowed. “Did you see how her expression changed when she found out who I was? Doug Cushing’s daughter.”

“Yes. I noted that,” her grandma said, digging in earnest into her dinner.

Paxine finished her plate. “I can’t eat another bite, but that is so good.”

Her grandma took her last bite, pushing her plate away.

“Do you know what your next mission is?” her grandma said, opening a container on the table and taking out two cookies.

“Befriend the enemy’s daughter and infiltrate their house. This probably involves a visit to Garon’s and spiders. Yum, chocolate chip,” Paxine said, taking a cookie.

Spiders were small slivers of metal put together in a way that heat made them walk. Some could be made to scream, and were good for tracking people. Paxine had learned how to make spiders from Garon, and they both were expanding their creative uses of spiders.

“Spot on,” her grandma said, biting into her cookie.

“So what’s the plan?” Paxine said.

“You have tomorrow to work on Beth. However, move cautiously. Mrs. Talassee’s cat isn’t doing well. No finals yet,” her grandma said, gathering up the dishes.

“But if they know the Governor’s wife is there, you’d think they’d final her cat at least once,” Paxine said, wiping the table.

“Yes, but the judges aren’t supposed to know whose cat they are judging. The problem is the number one Abyssinian in the world is being shown, and that is stealing the thunder, so to speak, from Mrs. Talassee,” her grandma said.

“I see. And Mr. Cushing’s daughter, who is at her first show, is doing well,” Paxine said, helping put the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Exactly,” her grandma said. “Now don’t stay up too late now,” her grandma said, heading for her office.

“I’d say the same to you,” Paxine said, getting her backpack from the living room.

Her grandma’s laughter drifted down the hall and Paxine nabbed another cookie, heading to the guest bedroom, munching. Tache was already curled up on her bed sound asleep. She kept quiet so not to wake him, showering and changing into her pajamas.

She had two final exams left before summer break and thought about studying. Two pets and a warm hug and I’ll study, she thought, curling up next to Tache, falling right to sleep.