Darrell's End

Short story. Midori is a cat. Her feline curiosity leads her to the shocking truth about her mother's death.

Darryl’s End

 

Midori’s nose twitched.

A heavy, thick smell rolled across the polished wooden floor, reminded her of wet newspapers and rotten lettuce. And at the centre of it, an animal she had not seen for seven summers. Her mother, now a shapeless, greasy thing slumped on the floor.  

Laid on a crisp, white sheet, the body seemed a withered thing, head curled over like a sea shell, surrounded by clumps of sodden, winter soil which seemed to tempt those shrunken paws to stretch out and play.

The collar, once a crimson red, had faded to a dull pink. The name “Cadbury” still clearly inscribed on to the rusted silver nametag.

There was no doubt this stale thing was once her mother, but, of course, it wasn’t her at all.

The quick, sleek animal with sharp, green eyes who could sprint along a wet fence post at lightening speed, that animal was dead.

Midori understood death. She’d swatted and clawed many mice in the quiet hours of the night and felt their bodies wriggle and go suddenly still as she held them, gently, in open jaws. Death is an act of thievery, it’s what happened when life was stolen. For a moment, Midori wondered what great and terrible beast had done this to her mother. Her neck stiffened at the thought.

She circled the body, occasionally craning her neck to get close, searching for the searching for the warmth she remembered. It was stolen, replaced by a dusty, wet, stale odour. Her mother’s grey and yellowing bones showed in patches. The fur which was once snow white and silky, now a pale yellow, like the water from the old pond.

Pale wrinkled, skin could be seen where the fur had worn away.

She pawed the body, which, in an instant rolled over showing the once soft underbelly, now matted and covered in something once wet, but now dry and brown with a smell like metal.

She neared the body, noticing a curious thing, a hilt, a blade, a small knife sprouting from inside her tender belly. Midori had seen one similar used by Sarah before she cut the salmon for dinner. Midori was not repulsed by the sight, but overcome by a fierce curiosity.

She craned her head, closer, to where the silver blade emerged from the skin, closer, so she could taste the texture of the rusted metal wet with morning dew, closer, until she could smell dried blood, and then, faintly, distantly, a faint passing glimpse of dry lavender.

“Midori, you poor thing, get away from her.”

Midori felt two hands clamp around midriff as she was lifted higher, higher, until she saw Sarah’s comforting face, soft and wet. “It’s alright honey, it’s alright. Don’t look at her,” she said, brushing down Midori’s coat and scratching her behind the ears with her long fingernails. Midori could feel Sarah’s heart racing under her jumper.

“I want something done about this.” She was talking to the strangers. A man and a woman, standing before Sarah with open notepads.

The man was taller than Sarah, with a thick grey beard, which he stroked calmly. The woman was shorter , slightly plump, with blonde hair tied in a bun.

They smelled like street water after a long rainfall. Both were wearing blue and yellow jackets. They also wore hats, blue and flat, upon which sat small silver badges which would catch the light, flash, flash, flash-flash. Midori stretched out her paw to touch the light.

“Midi, stop that, now, officer surely there’s something you can do, just look at her, look at that knife. Oh my god.” The tears ran again, now staining Midori’s coat. She squirmed, but Sarah’s grip tightened.

“Maam, I’ve taken down all the details and I’ll make inquiries at the office but I have to be honest with you, after this amount of time, there’s not a lot we can do,” said the man.

“So you’re already given up, is that it,” Sarah’s heart thumped louder, like a cricket trying to escape a paper bag. “This is a member of my family we’re talking about, the sicko who did this is still out there, who knows what he did to her. What sort of person does…” the last words were lost in a long sob as Sarah collapsed into the couch, loosening her hands and allowing Midori to leap to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, I know I sound like I’m raving, I know to you it’s just a cat and you must have more serious crimes to look into, but that cat, she was a big part of my life when I was growing up. I’ve been through a lot and she helped me, when my mom died, through university. I know you have better things to do, but can you please, please, just do something. I have to try, I have to do something.”

Midori walked over to the man, rubbed her back next to his leg and animal and man locked eyes for a moment. Midori thought she saw a flash of kindness.

“Alright tell us again when and how the body was found,” he said, turning back to Sarah.

“About an hour ago. The house next door is owned by Mrs Pilkington, Agnus, she lives alone. She must be in her ninties. The boys accidentally kicked their football into her yard. They said they saw the knife…”

The woman’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, looked at man and rolled her eyes. “Sorry Maam, can I step out for a minute.”

The man looked down at Sarah, who was wiping her eyes.

“Is Mrs Pilkington home now?”

“Yes, I think so. You don’t think…”

“Maam, she may have seen something, heard something. We’ll just have a talk with her, but, I have to be honest with you, I don’t think we’ll be able to find anything.”

“I know, I know, but please try.”

The man leaned down and swept his hand across Midori’s head, the long fingers reaching to where her neck joined her head, digging in, rub softly. Midori closed her eyes. The man understood cats.

The woman walked back in. “It’s the Guv, I’m very sorry, but we should go.”

Sarah stood up. “What will you do now.”

“We’ll be in touch,” the man said.

The door closed behind them. Sarah fell into the couch and began sobbing. Midori leaped up, reached out her paw and patted her master’s wet face.

“Ow, what would I do without you.” She hugged Midori, drawing her closer, harder, tighter. Midori shifted, squirmed, but the grip tightened, suffocating her. Midori released her claws a fraction and swiped at Sarah’s neck.

“Oi, stop that.”

Midori, now hot and angry, jumped on to the floor, and in one deft leap mounted bookcase, then sprung across to the window and out of the slither of open space to outside, skittering down the roof tiles and, in one graceful arc, on to soft grass below.

She looked up. Sarah’s face was at the window, beckoning Midori. She ignored her and wandered over to some rose bushes, where she noticed, on the nearby footpath, the man and the woman standing next to a bright white and blue car.

She darted at lightening speed, a blurr of white, and stopped at the man’s shiny, black shoes. The two were talking.

“It’s not a waste of time, that woman’s upset,” he said.

“Yeah, well we can’t spend all our time looking for cat murderers. Sarge says we got a domestic on Brondesbury and a break-in out on Churchill.”

“This is not a waste. Normal people don’t go around sticking paring knives into cats’ heads. Maybe this is where it starts for someone. Tomorrow, it might be a student walking home, or an old man coming back form the post office. We have a duty here,” he said.

“You think some cat murder is going to reveal jack the ripper?”

“If we can stop anyone else going missing then we’ve done something good today.”

“Look, she’s watching us. We said we’d talk to the neighbour, so let’s get it over with and then get on with some real work.”

Midori, followed on the heels of the man, up red-tiled steps of the house next door.

The man rapped loudly on the door.

“It’s Constable White and Constable Terry from Forworth Police, can we have a word with you maam.”

There was a crackle of static and the door swung open.

Midori felt a rush of warmth and a distant smell of freshly brewed tea.

“Not this time matey.” The man had pushed his foot across the threshold of the door. “I think this an human-only affair.” The door closed with a soft thud leaving Midori to contemplate the wood panelling.

Her ears swivelled focusing in on the muffled noises within. The distant sound of crockery, a woman’s voice, footsteps, another door closing, then nothing.

Curiosity gnawed at Midori, her feline instincts and tenacity now at full alert. From a corner of the house she spied a small, black hole hidden under a nearby bush. She scurried across the lawn to where the wood panelling had rotted away and tentatively placed one paw through the hole, her senses overwhelmed by the dust-bowl smell of dry dirt and damp under the house. Another paw went through followed by her lean body.

Inside it was dark. Her eyes widened from a narrow crescent into a full moon, illuminating the ground before now washed in a pale glow. The floor boards groaned under the weight of footsteps above her. She raced towards the sounds - an old woman’s voice, faded and crackling resounded through the floor boards.

“Owh that’s terrible, terrible news. I remember how that young Sarah cried when her little Cadbury disappeared. Awful business this is,” said the old woman.

“Well, it seems the small animal was found in your back yard,” the man said.

A gasp. “In my yard you say, but how?” she said.

“We were really hoping you may be able to help us there.”

A pause. “Ah officers my memory is fading, I’m 92 you know, been living alone for all of six years, since my Darrell disappeared. When did you say the poor wretch disappeared?”

“It would have been 2003 we think. At least seven years ago…”

“Ahh yes, of course. We had a  harsh winter that year, a tough year, we lost a grandchild, Darrell took it hard, very hard. My poor Darrell, police, lovely people like you two, they said he was missing. I know in my bones he’s up with our little grandchild Betty. Some of us aren’t built to shoulder grief. Darrell was a good man, my husband.”

Midori twitched, a smell, familiar, sweet, floral, faded, musty " lavender. She followed the trail, one delicate paw at a time across the lumpy earthen floor, pulled by the scent leading her deeper into the house like a thread. Closer, she followed the scent until she came to the source, two withered sprigs of lavender sitting on top of a dusty plastic bag.

And then there was another smell, musty, damp, rotten. She unsheathed a single claw and swiped at the bag making a tiny gash, which widened and grew. A wretched, steaming odour unleashed itself on to Midori’s senses - like her mother’s body, but this time denser, putrid and festering.

Midori’s eyes, now wide as dinner plates, peered through the gash. An eye, unlidded, milky white and clouded, stared back.

Midori stiffened, her muscles taut, but she could not look away. The skin, wrinkled and leathery, hung in flaps. She inched away, pushed back by the odour, the darkness and the single open eye, like a faint daub of cerulean blue.

A footstep from above. Midori hissed. Voices.

“Well, officers, I’m so saddened by this news, Cadbury was a lovely cat. I guess we have solved one mystery today. If only my old Darrell could be found, I’d die a happy woman.”

“Thanks for your time maam, please ring us if you remember anything.”

“God bless.” The door closed. Feet shuffled across the floor and then, the smell of a cigarette, coughing. “I’m thinking of you still, my Darling.”

Midori raced under the house and out into the day light.

The man and woman were walking away form the house. Midori ran to the comfort of the man’s voice.

“Poor lady, we sure did scare her,” he said.

“You know what they say about some murderers,” said the woman. “They need practice.”

“You think the old woman did it?”

“Some people just don’t like cats.”

The pair climbed into the car and drove off. Midori watched it disappear into the distance from her perch at the side of the road before running back into her home where Sarah was preparing dinner.