Cat's Meow

A mysterious black cat is haunting the attic and second floor area of Metnonymy "Nonnie" Owens' home, and Guen and Yarra's findings are totally unexpected.

 CAT'S MEOW

 

 

And then there were two.

 

And only two were one less than necessary for a viable coven in Amnesty.  But this was the situation that Guen and Yarra had suddenly found themselves in.  For, in the space of two years, the girls had went from a five person coven down to only themselves.  First, their friend Nautica Chen moved away when her father was relocated.  Then, best friend Connie Osbourne and another childhood friend, Rio Delmonico, were lost to graduation.  And with Hallows night just around the corner, the girls had to find someone.  And soon.

 

"What about Nonnie?"  Yarra asked Guen.  "She's Wiccan."

 

Yarra Anjali Govinda-Smythe, known as "YAGS" to her closest friends, was a month or so shy of eighteen.  She was a senior at Amnesty High.  Amnesty; a small, ancient, predominately Wiccan community, was located in southern New Hampshire, near the city of Nashua and the Massachusetts state line.  A very attractive Indian girl with long, black hair and large, alluring dark eyes, Yarra was petite, like her best friend Guen, but fuller chested and curvier.  Originally from the Bombay area of India, Yarra was adopted by Witch Queen Patience Smythe and her husband Chevy when Yarra's real parents (high school friends of the Smythes) were killed in a plane crash when she was five.   A Wiccan High Priestess like Guen and in the same coven, Yarra was a practicing Hindu as well.  She was a fun-loving, upbeat girl that loved rock music and desired to become a recording studio engineer and session musician, like her adoptive father.

 

"Yes, she is," Guen said, remembering this fact about their band's new drummer.  "But, I wonder if she's in a coven or not?"

 

Guenevere Meredith Goode was eighteen years old and also a senior at Amnesty High.  A petite, pretty Irish girl with long, straight strawberry blonde hair and freckles, Guen's best physical attribute was her bright green eyes, which always got the attention of Amnesty boys.  Guen was known as an introspective, highly intelligent, studious girl.  Desiring to be an Architect, Guen had already been accepted to the Rhode Island School of Design for the upcoming school year.

 

Yarra shrugged.  "Well, we can find out, can't we?  I mean, the worst she can say is 'no.'"

 

"At this point," Guen said, "That is the absolute worst she can say."

 

"That anybody can say."

 

"Uh, huh."

 

 

 

But, as fate would have it, Nonnie did not say 'no.'  She said 'yes' and 'definitely.'  She was not in a coven at present, and would very much like to be a part of Guen and Yarra's, which meant that she would be in the second most prestigious coven in Amnesty, behind Charity, Patience and Pandora's coven, of course.  The witch queens' coven also had found themselves down a member, losing Nautica's mother Persephone Chen to relocation as well.  But they were able to fill in the space with Charity's younger sister, Integrity Goode, who would soon be a witch queen herself.  So, while Guen and Yarra's mothers' coven was back at full strength with five members, the best that the girls could hope for at present was to at least make their coven a coven.  And now, with Nonnie on board, that was thankfully a reality once again.

 

It was the week after The Coven gig, and Guen and Yarra were on their way to Nonnie's house after school to help her transport her drum equipment to Yarra's home studio for practice.  (Nonnie, only sixteen, did not have her driver's license yet.)  Sylvanie Andropopov, the guitarist for Glamourama, was to meet everyone at Yarra's house at a specific time for practice.  (Sylvanie, an orthodox Catholic, was not a viable selection for the third spot in the girls' coven.)  Guen and Yarra also wanted to discuss at this time with Nonnie some details concerning their coven set-up and suggestions on a Hallow's night ceremony; i.e., what did Nonnie usually do, and what would she be interested in doing?

 

When the girls arrived at the Owen residence, Nonnie was in the process of packing up her drum equipment.  She came down and answered the door. 

 

"Hey, guys," she said with her patented smile.  "Come in, I'm just packing everything up."

 

Metnonymy "Nonnie" Owen was of British descent, sixteen and a sophomore at Amnesty High School.  She was of average height, a few inches taller than both Guen and Yarra.  Nonnie had a beautiful face, further enhanced by an enchanting smile.  Nonnie featured long, straight brown hair and pretty hazel eyes that served to lure Amnesty teenage boys.  But, at present, Nonnie's first love was music and playing drums.

 

"Cool," Guen said.  "We can help you."

 

Suddenly, Yarra saw something small and black run past the top of the staircase over Nonnie's shoulder.

 

"Oh, I didn't know you guys had a cat," she said.

 

A strange look came upon Nonnie's face.  "We don't," she said slowly with a half grin.  "Where do you--" 

 

Nonnie, as if suddenly remembering something, quickly turned around in the direction that Yarra was looking.

 

"That wasn't a cat I saw?"  Yarra asked, confused. 

 

There was now nothing present at the top of the steps.  Nonnie turned around, her face white.  Guen and Yarra were worried.

 

"Nonnie, what's wrong?  Are you--"

 

"Wait," Nonnie said in a nervous voice.  "So, you saw a cat?"

 

Yarra pursed her lips, not knowing exactly what to say or how to  react, for Nonnie's anxiety was making both Guen and her anxious themselves.

 

"Yeah, I think so.  It looked like a black cat.  It must have ran into the bathroom, or something, because it didn't come down the steps."  Suddenly, Yarra remembered something.  "You don't have your attic door open, do you?"

 

"No," Nonnie said, visibly nervous.  "It's shut.  Why, did it go in that direction?"

 

"Yeah," Yarra nodded.  "It came from the direction of the hallway and ran across the steps.  So, it must have went into the bathroom, then."

 

Nonnie just kept shaking her head, a half grin of unbelief on her face.  "No, it didn't," she said and started up the steps, motioning to the girls to follow.  "Come on."

 

Yarra and Guen looked at each other, confused.  They followed Nonnie up the steps. 

 

"Here," Nonnie said in a quick, anxious tone.  "See, the attic door is shut."

 

Guen and Yarra stared at the strange, lonely attic door.  Yarra remembered feeling some sort of faint energy on the other side of the door when she touched the door knob the first time (and last time) the girls were over at Nonnie's.  Yarra was going to mention it to Nonnie, but forgot about it.  Most of the top floors of Amnesty homes were abodes for familial ancestors so, in effect, they were haunted.  This was the case with Guen, Yarra's and Connie's homes.   However, the girls were not aware that this might be the case in a house located in the Catholic Quarter of Amnesty.  It seemed strange.

 

Come here," Nonnie said and went into the bathroom.  When the girls entered, Nonnie swept the room with a wave of her hand.  "See?  No cat.  Nothing." 

 

Yarra looked at her friend.  "Nonnie," she said calmly.   "I know I saw something.  Maybe it wasn't a cat, but it was something."

 

"I believe you, luv," Nonnie said.  "Believe me, I do."  She hesitated, a grin on her face.  "Because I've heard it."

 

"Wait," Guen said.  "So, you've heard a cat in the house, even though you don't have one?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Have you ever seen it?"

 

"No."

 

"And there's no chance that one might have gotten in somewhere?  Maybe Dottie brought one in and isn't telling?"

 

Nonnie motioned towards the bedrooms.  "Take a look," she said.

 

In truth, Nonnie was not being offensive.  Just the opposite.  She secretly seemed relieved that someone other than herself was experiencing something similar to what she had been experiencing for quite some time, and was glad for the opportunity to prove to herself, if not to others, that she wasn't hearing things.

 

The girls nodded and walked into each bedroom, including the drum rehearsal room, in turn. They looked under the beds, in the closets and behind various objects.  There was absolutely no sign of a cat or other small animal anywhere.

 

"Has anyone else ever seen or heard a cat?"  Guen asked, now intrigued.

 

"Yes," Nonnie nodded.  "Dottie has.  She said that she has heard it and seen it."

 

"Really?  Where?"

 

Nonnie leaned over the banister.  "Dottie," she called out in a loud voice.  In a few seconds, Nonnie's cute, thirteen year-old little sister appeared at the foot of the steps. 

 

"Yes?"

 

"Come up here a second."

 

Dottie did as she was told.  "Hey, guys," she said with a smile upon seeing Guen and Yarra.  The girls, fond of the younger Owen sister, smiled back.

 

"Hey, Dottie."

 

Dottie looked at her sister.  "What's up?"

 

"Tell Guen and Yarra about the cat."

 

"The-- oh," Dottie giggled.  "You mean the ghost cat."  Nonnie nodded.

 

"Wait," Guen said with an open-mouthed look and knitted brow.  "Ghost cat?"

 

Dottie nodded, a grin on her face.  "Uh, huh."  She went on to explain that on several occasions, she would see a black cat appear from out of nowhere and run towards the closed attic door, seemingly passing though it without effort.  Nonnie, who never actually saw the cat in question, could distinctly hear it meow sometimes outside of her bedroom door at night or in the early morning hours, or outside of her drum room.  When she opened the door, there was no cat in question.

 

"Tell them about that one time," Nonnie said to Dottie.

 

"Well, wait," Dottie said.  "Tell them about what you heard first."

 

"Oh," Nonnie said, remembering the moment in question.  "I've heard what sounds like light footsteps overhead," she said.  "Like something small walking above my bedroom and in my drum room.  I've also heard what sounds like meowing from up there, too.  Our parents have heard it above their room, as well."

 

"What exactly is up there?"  Yarra asked.

 

"Tell them," Nonnie nodded to Dottie.

 

"OK.  One time, I was in the bathroom, and it sounded like something running down the steps above the bathroom."

 

"Steps?"  Yarra asked with a look at Guen.

 

"Yeah, there's a set of steps in the attic that are actually built over top the bathroom and closet and Nonnie's room."

 

"Where do they go?"  Guen asked, hesitant.

 

"To another floor," Dottie said, wide-eyed, obviously enjoying the telling and attention.

 

"So, wait," Yarra said, shaking her head, confused.  "There's a set of steps in the attic that lead to another floor above this one and the attic space?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And there's no other way to get up there, but by the attic steps?"

 

"Uh, huh."

 

Yarra looked at Guen, amused.  "Wild," she said.  "You guys have a cool house."

 

"Weird," Guen said, with a shake of her head.  "So, anyway, you heard something."

 

"Right.  Something running down the steps.  It was a cat."

 

"How do you know that?"

 

"Because it suddenly stopped and meowed."

 

"OK.  So, then what?"

 

"Then it ran down the rest of the way and a few seconds later, it meowed again, but this time it sounded like it was right on the other side of the attic door."

 

"So, what happened?"

 

"Well, after I got done with my business in the loo, I went over to the attic door and listened."

 

"And?"

 

"I heard it again, but this time it sounded farther away.  So, I opened the attic door and went in."

 

As can be imagined, the girls were hanging on Dottie's every word at this point.

 

"What did you see?"

 

"Well, nothing at first," Dottie said.  "But then I saw the cat appear and bound up the steps, which was strange."

 

"Why?"

 

Dottie hesitated and grinned.  "Because there's a door in front of the staircase," she said.  "And it was closed."

 

"And you're totally sure about that?"

 

"Uh, huh," Dottie nodded.  "'Cause I walked over to the door and opened it myself."

 

"OK," Guen said with a look at Yarra.  "So, then what?"

 

"When I opened the door, I saw the cat at the top of the steps.  It was all black.  It looked at me, then ran off to the left of the steps."

 

"What's to the left of the steps?"

 

"Well, I didn't know, because I was never up there before.  But I went up the steps, and I heard the cat meowing.  When I got to the top, there's like this huge open room, and then there's a door into another room."

 

"Another room?  Wow," Yarra said.  "Open or closed?"

 

"Partly opened," Dottie said.

 

"And where was the cat?"

 

"Outside the room," the younger Owen sister said.  "When it saw me, it ran into the room.  So, I ran in after it."

 

Guen looked at Yarra, knowing that there was going to be some sort of strange testimony by Dottie at this point.

 

"And what happened?"

 

"The cat ran right through the bloody wall and disappeared.  I couldn't find it anywhere."

 

"Wild."

 

"But I could still hear it meowing."

 

"Really?  From on the other side of the wall?"

 

"I guess,"  Dottie said.  "I don't know.  I couldn't tell."

 

"And you're sure there's no holes or doors in the wall the cat went through?"

 

"Yes.  It's just a wall."

 

Yarra looked at Nonnie.  "Have you been up there, too?"

 

Nonnie nodded.  "Yeah, I went up there with her after she told me what happened.  But that time, neither one of us heard or seen anything."

 

"What's this room look like?"  Guen asked.  "What's in it?  Do you know what it was used for?"

 

Nonnie shook her head.  "No.  It's an averaged room that is totally empty, with a bunch of custom made shelves that cover the walls, and one window.  I don't know if it was ever used for anything."

 

"It had to be used for something at some point," Guen said, thoughtful.  "Or, at least, meant to be.  But I don't get why it's only accessed by going through the attic.  That's strange."

 

"Yeah," Yarra said.  "Almost like someone was trying to hide it or something."

 

Guen nodded.  "What's on the other side of the wall that the cat went through?"

 

Nonnie shrugged.  "Just the attic ceiling space, I guess."

 

Yarra nodded.  "Well, the last time we were over, both Guen and I felt something weird that seemed to be coming from the attic door."

 

"Really?  You actually felt something?"

 

"Well," Guen said, "Yarra and I are witch queens in training," so the older we get, the more our psychic abilities develop.  Our friend Connie is the same way.  So, we're sensitive to things like this."

 

"What did you feel?"  Nonnie asked.  "I mean, Sylvanie did mention that you guys seemed interested in the attic door."

 

"Not anything really out of the ordinary," Yarra said with a shrug.  "When I touched the door knob, I felt a very low vibration, which usually indicates a spirit presence.  We like to call it 'the humming of the dead.'  But it was so weak, I didn't really think it was anything to make a big deal over.  We were going to mention it, though."  Yarra chuckled.  "But a cat fits the amount of energy I felt, because I thought that maybe you might of had a dead squirrel or something in the attic."

 

"Almost all of the older homes in Amnesty, mostly in the Wiccan Quarter, are haunted on the top floor," Guen said, picking up where Yarra left off, "because that's where the ancestors live."

 

"So, your houses are haunted?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Yarra laughed.  "Definitely.  But, unless it's something really pressing, the ancestors stay on their floor and leave us alone.  If our mothers want to talk to them, they usually go up to the third floor to visit."

 

That's wild," Nonnie said and looked at Dottie, who was all smiles.  "Have you been?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Guen said with a smile at Yarra.  "We've been."

 

"We've met our dead relatives," Yarra said, beaming.

 

"Smashing," Dottie said.

 

There was a few charged seconds of silence.  Guen and Yarra looked at each other and grinned, conspiratorial.

 

Nonnie grinned at the girls.  "So, let me guess.  You guys want to go into the attic and check out the third floor."

 

"Can we?"  Yarra said, excited at the prospect.  "We might be able to help you solve this mystery."

 

Nonnie shrugged.  "Sure.  But what about band practice?"

 

"Call Sylvanie and tell her that we will be about a half hour late," Guen said.  "We'll only be fifteen minutes up there, tops."

 

"OK," Nonnie nodded and pulled out her cell phone.  "I'll call her."

 

"Can I go up with you guys?"  Dottie asked.

 

Guen and Yarra looked at each other and shrugged.  "Sure, why not?"  Yarra said.  "After all, you've actually seen the cat, too."

 

"Yeah, not like Nonnie," Dottie said, in a tone of superiority.

 

"Why is that?"  Nonnie asked.

 

"Probably just because she's younger and coming into adolescence," Guen said,  "so she's got a lot of pent up psychic energy.  Or else, she was born with a higher psychic level."

 

"See that?"  Dottie said to her older sister with over-emphatic pride.  "I'm better than you.  I'm more psychic."

 

"Psycho, maybe," Nonnie said.

 

"But we use our powers for good, Dottie," Yarra said to the young girl with a smile.  "That's why we're given them.  And we don't boast of them."

 

"Sorry," Dottie said, humbled.  Nonnie grinned.

 

Yarra responded by rubbing her hand vigorously through the young girl's shocked, styled black hair.  "It's cool."  She looked at Guen.  "So, let's go find a dead cat."

 

"Let's."  Guen turned to Dottie.  "Lead the way."

 

Dottie nodded and slowly walked over to the attic door.  She looked back at Guen and Yarra, and her

sister, who was on the phone with Sylvanie.

 

Guen and Yarra nodded.  "Don't be afraid," Yarra said in a soothing voice with a grin.  "Nothing is going to happen.  Guen and I are right behind you."

 

Guen nodded.

 

Dottie nodded back, turned towards the strange door and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly.  She opened the door, which creaked eerily.

 

It was growing dark outside, so the attic space was bathed in a spooky mixture of shadows and half-light.  When Guen and Yarra peered over Dottie's shoulder and looked inside, they saw along the far wall a large chimney shaft that originated in the Owen's living room with a large fireplace and ran alongside the outside of the house.  On either side of the shaft were two round galley windows, commonplace in a Second Empire Victorian.  The far end wall of the attic contained a regular casement window.  There were boxes and various items in the attic as well, but these items did not serve to fill the space.  The girls estimated that roughly half of the attic space was empty.

 

Dottie began to reach for the light switch, but was stopped by Yarra.

 

"No, leave it off," she whispered.  "It will be easier to find the cat."

 

This seemed to frighten the young girl.  Guen, realizing what was going on, put a hand on Dottie's shoulder.

 

"Hey, Dottie," she said with a smile.  "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, OK?  If you want to stay here with Nonnie, that's fine."

 

"Yeah," Yarra said.  "It's all right.  Guen and I can find our away around."

 

"Are you sure?"  Dottie asked, trying to be brave, despite the tale-tale shaking of her small frame.

 

"Yeah, honey," Guen said.  "We'll be fine."

 

"Dot, come over here with me," Nonnie said from the hallway.  Dottie nodded and stepped back out of the attic doorway and made her way over to her sister, who put an arm around her.

"Let Guen and Yarra do it," Nonnie said to Dottie.  "Their mothers are witch queens, so they know all about this stuff."

 

Yarra, who was watching this scene with Guen, suddenly felt something soft rub against her leg.  "Whoa!" She said with a grin at Guen.  "Did you feel that?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Guen nodded.  And looked up. "There!"

 

The cat was sitting on its hind legs in front of the stairway leading up to the third floor, it's green eyes shining eerily in the twilight.  As soon as it was spotted, it took off up the steps.  Of course, when the girls reached the stairway, they were faced with a shut door.

 

"Imagine that," Yarra said.  "Well, if there was any question that the cat might be alive, I guess this proves it wrong."

 

Guen nodded with a slight grin as if on cue, both girls heard a distinctive

 

"Meow!"

 

Yarra turned the knob on the door and opened it.  Just like with Dottie, the cat in question was at the top of the steps.  Upon seeing the girls, it quickly bounded away to the left of the doorway, out of sight.

 

"Seems like we've heard this story before," Guen said, as the girls started up the steps.

 

It was obvious to Guen and Yarra, no strangers to the paranormal (as their dealings with Allegra and The Girls in White Dresses a year-and-a-half before proved), that the cat in question was attempting to get someone to follow it, to show them something.  What?  When in the attic and third floor area, it was apparent that the animal was basically caught in a dimensional loop.   In other words, when someone living was present, it would repeat the exact same motions over and over again.  Therefore, the girls (who were actually more psychically developed now than they were when they had met Allegra) knew what came next.

 

There was the "meow" as the girls made their way up the steps.  The steps ended at what was basically a large open space approximately thirty feet long and ten or twelve feet wide that contained two galley windows in the wall opposite the steps.  The moon was out, so an eerie white glow shone through the two small windows and illuminated both the space and the top portion of the steps.  There was no window in the wall to the right of the steps.  As Dottie said, there was a door in the left hand wall that led into a smaller room.  This door was partially open by the space of about six inches to a foot.

 

 

And there, sitting in front of the space in the door, was the cat.

 

As expected, as soon as both girls reached the top of the stairs and made eye contact with the animal, it quickly bounded through the small space in the open door and into the room.  It stopped, looked back at Guen and Yarra, and then abruptly leaped at the left side wall of the room, going through it without effort.

 

"Listen," Guen said to Yarra when the girls reached the inside of the room, which was empty, except for the fact that it was covered with custom made shelves that also were empty, as Nonnie said.

 

After a few seconds silence, the girls could hear a very faint meowing coming from somewhere on the other side of the wall.  The girls ran over to where the cat went through the wall and felt it, putting their ears up against it.

 

"I don't hear it anymore," Yarra said.

 

"Neither do I, " Guen said, pounding her hand against the bottom of the wall.  "There's nothing here.  This wall is solid."

 

"Uh, huh."  Yarra looked around her.  "I wonder what this room was used for?"  She asked.

 

Guen shook her head.  "I don't know.  Something.  But if there was ever anything in here, you couldn't tell by looking at it."

 

Yarra walked over and looked out the casement window in the wall opposite the doorway.  She could see her father's  Range Rover parked across the street (brought to transport Nonnie's drum equipment), and more Victorian style homes on the opposite side of this section of Druid Road.  Most of these homes were flanked by familiar massive, ancient oak and maple trees that, in this area of Amnesty, were originally a part of the West Woods, two blocks away to the north.  Also visible from this vantage point, a block or so away down Second Street heading towards Main, was the old dark brown brick, three story, block long building housing The Coven nightclub, which originally was the old Amnesty textile factory.  The Coven's now inoperable one-hundred foot smokestacks with "Amnesty Textiles" written in large, faded white lettering was clearly visible, the red airplane lights on the top of the smokestacks blinking off and on in the slate gray sky.

 

"Let's go, YAGS," Guen said to Yarra, already in the door way of the mysterious room.  "There's nothing more we can do tonight.  We have to get back to your place for band practice.  Sylvanie is going to be wondering if we're coming."

 

Yarra nodded, tearing herself away from the window.

 

 

 

When the girls stepped back through the attic door, Nonnie and Dottie were taking the last of the packed up drum equipment down to the front door, to be put in the Smythe Range Rover for transport across town.  The Owen sisters were very interested in Guen and Yarra's experience, but disappointed that they were not successful in finding out what the mysterious dead cat was attempting to show.

 

"Weren't you scared?"  Dottie asked.

 

"Not really," Yarra said with a look at Guen.  "I mean, it is a little strange up there, with that empty room and that open space and all, but I didn't feel anything really bad up there."

 

"Neither did I," Guen said.  "There's nothing evil up there."  She smiled.  "Just a cat."

 

"Hmmm."  Nonnie purred thoughtfully.   "So, what should we do about it?"

 

"Well, Guen and I aren't finished with this yet," Yarra said with a smile.  "The cat obviously needs our help."

 

"Yeah," Guen said.  "And Yarra and I have an idea.  So, give us a day or two, and we'll be back.  We want to check something out, first."

 

"OK," Nonnie said with her patented smile and a shrug.  "The cat and us will be waiting, I'm sure." 

 

"Cool," Yarra said.  "Now lets get this stuff in the car so we can rock.  And in case your wondering, it's dinner at my house tonight.  Sylvanie, too."

 

"Smashing," Dottie said, excited.

 

"Not you, Smurfie!"  Nonnie said.  "You're staying here and eating with mum and dad.  You'll be keeping them company."  She smiled mischievously.   "And the cat."

 

 

 

The next evening was Guen and Yarra's work evening at their mothers' bookstore, Pandora's Box.  The girls  worked on Wednesday nights after school from four o'clock to nine, with an hour break  from six o'clock to seven.  The something that the girls told Nonnie that they wanted to check out was the local history section of the store, which they did during their dinner break.

 

"I got the tax and real estate info on the house," Yarra said, looking up from her laptop.   "It was built in 1875 by a guy named Zoloch.  Zoloch was one of the founders of Amnesty Textiles.  He was the first resident.  Besides him, there was nine other owners, including the Owens.  One family, a Catholic couple named the Patricks, lived there for forty-five years." 

 

Guen nodded.  "Here, look at this," she said, pointing to an article in the book she was reading.  Yarra leaned over and read the title.  Her eyes grew wide.  "An American Tragedy in Amnesty?"

 

"Yeah," Guen nodded.  "It seems that Zoloch had a grandson that he willed the house.  Victor Zoloch and his wife, Emily.  They were newly handfasted.  He was twenty, she was eighteen."

 

"Victor and Emily Zoloch," Yarra said and pointed to her computer screen.  "Yeah, I got them here.  They lived in the house from 1939-1945.  Wait.  It also has some sort of note here about a 'major addition, same style' that totaled 'seven-hundred and sixty square feet?'"

 

"Well, Emily lived in the house that long," Guen said.  But Victor was killed in World War II, six months after the attack on Pearl Harbor.  He was an interesting guy.  A Wiccan high priest with his own coven and some sort of following.  He was also very wealthy, inherited his grandfather's fortune and became a stockholder in Amnesty Textiles."  She smiled.  "And he was also paranoid."

 

Yarra looked at Guen with knitted brow.  "Paranoid?  How?"

 

"Well, apparently in many ways.  First of all, he was of German descent, so he believed that all the hostility in the world at that time against the Germans was eventually going to affect the citizens of Amnesty.  He believed that if America ever entered the war, that it wouldn't go well for Emily and him.  And then there was the fact that he was a Wiccan living in a house in the middle of the Catholic Quarter of Amnesty.  He could never get used to that, believed that the Catholics were against him, as well."

 

"Wow," Yarra said.  "So, what happened?"

 

"Well," that's where the third floor of Nonnie's house comes in," Guen said and nodded towards Yarra's laptop.  "That's what that's talking about when it mentions the major addition to the house."

 

"So, wait," Yarra said thoughtfully.  "You're saying that before the Zoloch's moved in, that Nonnie's house only had two floors?  That the attic steps and those rooms up there weren't there originally?"

 

"Yep," Guen nodded.  "They were all built by Victor Zoloch and his coven members and followers to hide out in, in case the Catholics turned against the Wiccans in that area of Amnesty, or else, if German animosity ever manifested itself."

 

"And that's why you can only get up there by going into the attic," Yarra deduced.

 

"Uh, huh."

 

"Did they ever use the new space?"  Yarra asked.

 

Guen nodded.  "Yeah.  Apparently, they used the space as a Wiccan shrine up until the time that Victor went off to war."

 

"That's weird," Yarra said.  "That area doesn't look like it would be a Wiccan shrine.  It doesn't even look like it was ever used."  Guen nodded, deep in thought.  "What about after he went off to war?  They just stopped using it?"

 

"Well, that's part of the tragedy," Guen said.  "It's also where our little furry friend comes in."

 

"The cat?  Really?"

 

"Uh, huh.  See, the Zolochs were deeply in love.  So, when Victor went off to war and was killed, Emily basically went inside herself.  She became deeply distraught.  She gained a reputation in the Catholic Quarter as being a paranoid recluse."

 

"So, the people that the Zolochs were afraid of became afraid of Emily."  Yarra said.

 

"Yep."

 

"So, how does the cat come in to play?"

 

"Emily acquired the cat to keep her company."  Guen smiled.  "There was a rumor going around the quarter that she got it from Satan himself."

 

Yarra shook her head.  "That's terrible."

 

Guen nodded.  "The cat's name is Shadow, by the way."

 

Yarra's face brightened at this.  "Shadow.  That's pretty.  Poor cat.  So, what happened?"

 

"Nothing good," Guen said.  "No one was allowed in the house after Shadow came.  Those from  Zoloch's coven and his followers would bring food and supplies regularly and leave them on the porch, and Emily would get them after they left.  And, of course, the Catholics at that time were too afraid of Emily to go near the house.  But anyway, Emily gradually got worse.  Then one Sunday, she shows up at Amnesty Catholic Church, skyclad."

 

Yarra, wide-eyed, put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.  "That's wild."

 

"Yeah, it is," Guen said, "but for the Catholics, that was basically the last straw."

 

"Whatdaya mean?"

 

"Well, a few nights later, some 'good-intentioned,'" here Guen bent the  index and middle fingers of both hands up and down, to simulate quotation marks, "parishioners decided to conduct an intervention.  They stormed the house in the middle of the night, pulled Emily out of bed, bound and gagged her and took her to the nearest asylum."

 

"What?"  Yarra said in disbelief.  "How could  they do that?  The poor woman."

 

"Yeah," Guen said with a thoughtful, slow nod.  "And it doesn't have a good ending."

 

"What happened?"

 

"Six months later,  Emily was found dead in her room, hanging from a makeshift noose made out of bedsheets."

 

Yarra gasped.  "Did someone--"

 

"No," Guen said with a wag of her head.  "It was a suicide.  There was a note that they found in her handwriting that said 'I can't go on.  Please take care of Shadow.'"

 

Silence.

 

"So, what happened to Shadow?"  Yarra asked in a small voice, after some time had passed.

 

Guen sighed.  "He was said to be seen around the quarter at night, but not during the day.  Most likely, looking for food, and then staying in the house during the day."  Yarra nodded.  "But, I'm sure that word around the quarter was probably that  he was having secret rendezvous with Satan, or whatever.   Then, when the next family moved in, the Patricks, he just disappeared."

 

"Poor cat.  And that poor girl.  That's sad."

 

"What's sad?  You didn't leave any pizza for Patience and me?"  It was Charity Goode, Guen's mother, who had just come back to the break room from the sales floor.  Charity, a witch queen like Yarra's mother Patience, was basically an older carbon copy of her daughter.  Like Guen, she had long, straight strawberry blonde hair, luminous eyes and freckles.  However, she was much taller than Guen, just under six foot to Guen's few inches over five.

 

"Here," Guen said and pushed the pizza box towards her mother, who instinctively grabbed a slice of extra cheese.

 

"Thanks," Charity said, between bites.  "So, what's sad?"

 

"Nothing.  Just a story we're reading in this book," Guen said.

 

"'An American Tragedy in Amnesty,'" Charity said, and turned the book towards her.  "Wait, that's the old  Patrick house, where your friend Nonnie lives, right?"

 

"Uh, huh."

 

"Wait," Guen said.  "You knew the Patricks?"

 

"Sort of," Charity said with an abrupt smirk as she looked up from the book at Yarra's mother, Patience Smythe, who was also making her way back to the break room.  Patience had just rang up the last customer in the store, so she was able to put the "will return at seven" sign in the door.  "We definitely knew who they were."

 

"Who who was?"  Patience asked, as Charity handed her friend the book in question. Patience Smythe was also thirty-seven, a few months younger than Charity.  A stunning woman in terms of appearance, Patience was tall, slender, curvy and busty.  She featured hazel eyes, high cheekbones and long, straight, frosted light brown hair.  Like Charity, Patience looked ten years younger than her age.

 

"So, who were they?" 

 

Charity looked at Patience.  "Pat will tell you.  She used to love the Patricks."

 

"Yeah, right?"  Patience smirked and grabbed a slice of mushrooms.  "And they loved us, too.  Loved to hate us."

 

"Hel-lo!"  Yarra said loudly.  "Who were the Patricks?  Please, elaborate for the benefit of the two clueless teenage girls, otherwise known as your daughters, in the room with you."

 

"Oh, we're sorry," Patience said with a sarcastic tone.  "We didn't see you there."  This got Patience a bug-eyed, open-mouthed stare from Yarra, which she returned with a smile.  "Anyhoo.  The Patricks were this ancient Catholic couple that lived alone in Nonnie's house when Pandora [Connie's mother] and we were teenagers.  We used to see them out and about the house on our way to school."

 

"OK, good," Yarra nodded, "but where does the hate part come in?"

 

"Well, hate might be too strong a word, actually" Patience said, thoughtfully, pouring herself some cola into a paper cup.  "'Strongly disliked' might be better."  Charity nodded and voiced a quick "Hmm."  Patience continued.  "It was a perception, based on how they always used to look at us like 'oh, look there's those unbaptized, unrepentant witch girls, again.  You know they're going to hell.'"

 

Guen and Yarra could not help but laugh at this.

 

"Yeah, and the fact that they would never wave at us when we did at them, and would never say 'good morning' or anything."  Charity said.

 

"What happened to them?"  Yarra asked.

 

The witch queens looked at each other and shrugged.  "Don't know, really," Patience said.  "They were old when we were teenagers.  And they were there forever.  So, I guess they died, or something.  One day, you didn't see them around anymore. And then, the Nissis were there."

 

"And they were nice Catholics," Charity said, which was vigorously confirmed by Patience.  Their kids were nice, too."

 

Yarra stared at her laptop screen.  "The Patricks lived there for forty-five years," she said to no one in particular.  From 1945-1990.  The Nissis moved in after them.  Nonnie's family bought the property from the Nissis in 2005."

 

"What are you looking at?"  Patience said, leaning over her daughter's shoulder.

 

"Nothing.  Just Amnesty tax and real estate information."

 

"What are you guys up to?"  Charity asked with a sly grin.  "You're up to something.  You didn't just stumble on that story in that book on break."

 

"Yeah," Patience said and playfully swiped at the top of Yarra's head.

 

"Mawm!  Stop it.  That's child abuse."

 

"Ha!"  Patience said and playfully swiped again.  This got a explosion of silent giggles from the younger Smythe.  "And, you just didn't happen to be on the Amnesty website and, by coincidence, find tax and real estate information on Nonnie's house."

 

"So, again. What are you guys up to?"  Charity asked, looking primarily at Guen.

 

The girls took turns telling Nonnie's story and what they had found out through research.

 

"So, whatdaya think?"   Yarra asked with a wide smile.  "Pretty spooky, huh?"

 

Simultaneous smirks.

 

"Yeah, right," Charity said. 

 

"Hardly!"  Patience said, then added, "The whole thing is very sad.  That poor girl and that cat.  The poor thing probably is trying to get someone in the house to find him, so that he can get a proper burial."

 

"Well, that's what we thought, too," Guen said.  "But, if this cat wants to be found so bad, then where is it?"

 

"Most likely, at the place that he always leads everyone to."

 

"What?"  Yarra said with knitted brow.  "You mean behind that wall?  Why?"

 

"Well, probably because something you guys said doesn't make sense," Charity said, munching thoughtfully on her second slice.  "Back up a second.  How big is the third floor?"

 

"Let's see," Yarra said, studying her laptop screen.  "It says here seven-hundred and sixty square feet."

 

"Right," Charity said.  "Almost eight-hundred square feet.  Doesn't that seem a little big to you?"

 

"Why?"

 

"Well, how big did you say these two rooms up there are?"

 

Guen shrugged.  "Well, the one is this large, open space.  I would say probably about twenty-five, thirty feet long and ten or twelve feet wide.  And the other room is smaller, about ten by ten?  Ten by twelve?  Something like that."

 

"OK, then," Patience said with a look at Charity, "do the math.  Let's say the first is thirty by twelve, and the second is ten by twelve.  What is that?"

 

"Well, one room would be 360 square feet, and the other would be 120 square feet so  that's-- no, that can't be-- only 480 square feet?"

 

"That's what we get," Charity said, with a nod from Patience.  "So, where's the other 280 square feet?  I mean, you're talking about a big space, there.  Something like what?  Twenty-eight by ten at least?  Probably bigger than that."

 

"Yeah, we went high with the calculations," Patience said.  "If you go low, thirty by ten and ten by ten, than the room could be another ten feet long and maybe up to five feet wider."  She pursed her lips, looking at her calculations.  "Thrity-six by ten, fifteen, maybe?

 

"Uh, huh."

 

"So, where else could a space that big be but on the other side of that wall the cat goes through?"  Patience asked with overturned palm, before grabbing another slice of pizza.

 

Guen and Yarra exchanged glances.  "True," each said in turn.

 

Then Guen thought of something.  "Wait a second," she said and began flipping through the old local history book.  "You guys might have something there."  "Here," she said, as she came upon the page she wanted and pointed to a photograph.  "Take a look at this."

 

Both witch queens shook their heads.

 

"OK," Patience said, confused.  "I see two windows. That one is pretty with the pentagram and the stained glass.  But, so what?"  Charity was similarly perplexed.

 

Yarra was not.

 

"Uh, huh," she said, as a wide smile overtook her lips.  She looked at Guen, conspiratorial, and then at Charity and her mother.

 

"You guys are geniuses," she said.

 

"Well, thanks," Patience said, with a slanted look at Charity.

 

 

 

The next day after school, Guen and Yarra stopped by Nonnie's house before going home.  But it was not for anything Glamourama related that the girls wanted to see  their friend.

 

"Hey, guys," Nonnie said with her patented smile, after answering the door.  "I just got in a few minutes ago.  What's up?"

 

"Come across the street with us for a second," Guen said, motioning to Nonnie to follow Yarra and her.  "We want to show you something."

 

"OK," Nonnie shrugged and grabbed a light jacket from a rack in the foyer.  Being late October, it was somewhat chilly outside.  "Sure."

 

Nonnie followed Guen and Yarra across the street.  She noticed that Guen was carrying an old book under her arm.  The three girls stood in front of a car and turned and faced the Owen residence.

 

"OK," Guen said and marked a place in the book with her finger.  "What we want you to do is look up at the third floor of your home for a few seconds and get its image in your mind."

 

"Alright," Nonnie nodded.  She did so.

 

"Got it?" Yarra asked, after a time had passed.

 

Nonnie smiled.  "Well, I see it, but--"

 

Guen opened the book in question and handed it to her friend.  "Here, take a look."

 

Once Nonnie's eyes focused on the page, they grew wide.  "Oh, wait.  This is my house."

 

"Yep."

 

Nonnie turned the book over and studied the cover.  She looked at Guen and Yarra with knitted brow.  "I don't get it, guys."

 

"Look at the picture," Yarra said.  "Notice anything on the third floor different than on your house now?"

 

Nonnie looked again.  "No, I-- wait, yes."  She pointed to the photo.  "That window isn't there now."

 

"Exactly."  Guen said with a smile at Yarra. 

 

The girls were referring to a galley window that appeared in the book photo of the Owen residence, circa 1940.  It featured a large pentagram surrounded by multicolored stained glass.  Of course, it was a part of the third floor installed by the Zolochs, shortly after they had moved in.

 

"It's pretty," Nonnie said, somewhat confused as to what her friends were getting at.  "It would be cool if it was there now."  She looked at Guen and Yarra.  "I guess it was taken out by someone who owned the house at some  point?"

 

"Apparently," Guen said.  "But that's not really what we want you to see."

 

"Yeah," Yarra spelled Guen.  "Look how far away the pentacle window is from the window that's still up there.  How far would you say that distance is?"

 

"I don't know," Nonnie shrugged.  "Maybe ten or fifteen feet?"

 

"At least ten," Yarra nodded.  "So, you get it, now?"

 

A blank look.  "No.  I'm sorry, guys, but--"

 

"OK," Yarra said.  "Maybe you don't remember.  But Guen and I do, because we were just up there two nights ago."  She pointed at the third floor of the house.  "Where the window is now, to the wall where the cat goes through?  It's way less than ten to fifteen feet."

 

"Yeah," Guen said.  "More like somewhere between three to five feet."

 

"Wait," Nonnie said with a strained look, in an attempt to understand.  "So, you're saying that this pentacle window was on the other side of the wall?"

 

"Yes."

 

"But how could that be?  Why would someone build a window where-- unless--"

 

"Exactly."

 

 

 

Guen and Yarra spent the next few minutes recapping to Nonnie all that they had found out about the house, through their research of  the local history books at Pandora's Box and the tax and real estate information link on the Amnesty website.  The young girl was misty eyed.

 

"That's terrible," she said with glassy eyes.  "That poor woman, Emily.  And the cat, Shadow.  He's  been here, all this time."

 

Guen and Yarra nodded.  There was a few seconds of silence before Yarra looked at Nonnie with a wide smile.

 

"So, how would you like to help us help Shadow?"  She asked.

 

"Sure,"  Nonnie shrugged thoughtfully.  "But how?"

 

"Do you have a broom?"  Guen asked.

 

"Sure," Nonnie said and nodded towards her front door.  "Over there, on the porch."  She began to walk back across the street towards her house.

 

"That's so cliché," Yarra said with a laugh.

 

"Well, it's the only thing I could think of," Guen said, barely above a whisper.

 

"How's that?"  Nonnie asked her friends concerning the broom when the three were back on the porch.

 

Guen picked up the broom in question, an old, traditional broom with a wooden handle.  In truth, it was the wooden handle, not the broom's sweeping capabilities, that Guen was concerned about.

 

"Perfect," she said and looked at Nonnie with a sigh.  "Ready?"

 

"Uh, huh."

 

"Lead the way."

 

Nonnie led Guen and Yarra back through the front door and foyer area to the floor space between the foyer and the stairway.

 

"Here, Shadow; here, Shadow," Guen and Yarra began to call.  Curious, Dottie came out from the living room to see what was going on.  She was motioned to by Nonnie with an index finger to her lips to be silent.

 

Almost immediately, the cat in question manifested itself at the top of the steps, as if it had originated from nowhere.  But this time, unlike the others, the animal stayed put, instead of bounding through the closed attic door.  It was almost as if the sound of its name allowed the cat freedom from the supernatural loop to which it had been bound.  Guen and Yarra started up the steps while Dottie, all smiles, stayed with Nonnie, who stared in disbelief.

 

"You see him?"  Yarra asked, turning around with a grin.

 

"Uh, huh," Nonnie said, open-mouthed.

 

"C'mon, you guys,"  Yarra said.  "Let's go say 'hi.'"

 

The Owen sisters followed Yarra up the steps.  Guen was already with Shadow, who was rubbing against her legs and purring.

 

"That's a good boy," Guen said cheerfully.

 

"Hi, Shadow," Yarra said, sitting on the top step and laughing, as the ghost cat licked her face.

 

"All this attention you're getting!"  Dottie said, as Nonnie and she also took turns greeting Shadow.

 

After a few more minutes of this, Guen stood up and grabbed the broom.

 

"OK, Shadow," she said, as the cat looked up at her, "we're all here to help you.  We know that you have something to show us."

 

Shadow responded with a loud "meow!"

 

"Yes, we know," Guen said and opened the attic door.  "So, you go show us, and we'll follow you, alright?"

 

Shadow rubbed up against Guen's legs and purred before bounding into the attic.  Guen, Yarra and the Owens followed.  Shadow, instead of bounding through the stairwell door, patiently waited until all four girls were inside the attic.

 

"OK, Shadow," Guen said and opened the door to the third floor.  "Go ahead.  We're behind you."

 

Shadow bounded up the steps.  When he reached the top, once again, he waited until everyone was on the third floor.

 

"Good boy," Yarra said and knelt down to pet the cat, while Guen opened the door into the shelved room.  "We're almost there, Shadow."

 

Shadow purred and ran into the shelved room.  Instead of bounding through the left side wall as usual, he just stood in front of it and meowed.

"We know, Shadow," Guen said.  "We know."  She looked at Yarra and turned the broom in the opposite direction, so that the bristled end was facing her.  Guen got a good grip on the object, near the part of the handle that was attached to the bristles.  "Alright, let's see what we find."

 

Guen began to tap on the first section of shelved wall.  Basically, the wall in question (like the wall opposite) was covered by four sections of custom designed shelves.  Each section ran from the floor to the ceiling, and was approximately two-and-a-half to three feet long.  The shelves were spaced eighteen to twenty-four inches apart and were roughly a foot or so deep.  There were four shelved spaces to a section.

 

The first and second sections sounded equal in pitch, and did not really variate from the sound that was made by Guen's and Yarra's fists on the wall two nights earlier.  In effect, they were solid.  The third was equally so.

 

"There's got to be someway in," Yarra said, frustrated at the fact that the wall was not revealing any secrets so far.

 

"Last section," Guen said and began to tap on the shelved wall space.  "Wait," she said, intently listening.  She motioned to Yarra.  "Bang your fist on that part of the wall," she said, referring to the third section.

 

Yarra did so.  Guen followed suit on her section.

 

"Hear that?"  Guen said, excited.

 

"Something's different," Yarra said, wide-eyed, as Guen and her began to feel the fourth section of the wall for a latch or any type of handle.  Suddenly, Yarra had an idea.

 

"Wait," she said.  "Push in on the wall."

 

Guen did so.

 

A loud "click!"

 

And the fourth section of the wall, which was actually a revolving door, swung open.

 

"Wow!"  Nonnie said in open-mouthed disbelief and looked at Dottie, who was all smiles.

 

"Smashing!"  The younger Owen said.

 

At the sight of the hidden door swinging open, Shadow ran between Guen and Yarra and into the space on the other side.

 

When the girls got the door open to its farthest point and entered the space, they noticed three things: 1.)  that their mothers were right, that the space behind the wall was, in fact, a very large room, 2.) that the room was actually the Wiccan shrine built by Victor Zoloch and his coven members and followers and 3.) that the room was in a deplorable state of disarray, as if someone had been intent on destroying it.

 

"What happened in here?"  Yarra said, distressed at the sight.  "Who would do something like this?"

 

Guen slowly shook her head, intently looking at the scene before her.

 

The shrine ran the entire length of the large room, which was, as Charity and Patience had calculated, nearly thirty to forty feet long and somewhere between twelve and fifteen feet wide.  The floor, which was covered in black velvet carpet, featured a large red pentagram encircled twice in the center of the room.  This pentagram was shredded almost to the point of obscurity by something sharp, most likely an athamé (a ceremonial dagger).  The back half of the room was meant to be divided into two sections, each left and right section containing rows of fold up chairs for coven members and followers.  Almost all of these chairs were knocked over.  There were also candles and holders strewn all over the room, as well as the pages of an ancient Book of Shadows, which was obviously ripped apart by whoever had trashed the rest of the room.  Cabinets along the wall which contained Wiccan ceremonial outfits and paraphernalia were opened, with most of their contents also removed, destroyed and thrown about.

 

"Look," Nonnie said, standing behind Guen and Yarra and near the back wall.  She pointed to a large, round object that was leaning up against the wall.

 

"It's the pentacle window," Guen said in a small voice.

 

The beautifully designed, approximately three foot in diameter, stain glass window was smashed, the pieces of glass lying all around the frame.  The wire bound pentacle that the multi-colored glass surrounded and highlighted was bent and twisted.

 

During this time of close scrutiny and speculation as to what had happened  in the shrine; Guen, Yarra and Nonnie temporarily forgot about Shadow, who had went to the front of the room where the altar was located.  He was sitting patiently there, looking at something on the top of the altar and back to the girls, waiting for them to remember him.  One member of the group that did not forget about Shadow was Dottie.  Being the youngest, she had basically been relegated to the rear, and had to wait her turn to enter the shrine room.  When she did, she spotted Shadow at the front of the room and went over to him.  The other girls basically did not notice.

 

However, they definitely did notice when Dottie let loose a bloodcurdling scream.

 

"Dottie!  What's wrong?"  Nonnie practically shrieked as she ran over to her sister.  Guen and Yarra, startled, did the same.

 

Dottie could not answer, only point to the altar, her tear-streaked face a mixture of terror and shock.  Nonnie, the first to see what Dottie saw on the altar, grabbed the shaking young girl and cradled her head in her bosom, not allowing her to look any further at the gruesome sight on the altar top.

 

"Wha--"

 

"Oh, my God."

 

What did the girls see?  What Shadow had wanted them to see all along.  His skeletal remains on the altar, with the place where his neck once was, pierced by an athamé.  A collar with "Shadow" engraved on the name tag, once hanging around the cat's (now broken) neck vertebrae, hung from the wavy bladed dagger, like a horseshoe looped on a peg.

 

Shadow, who was distressed by Dottie's reaction, stayed back a few feet and moved back and forth, looking up helplessly at his friends, not knowing what to do.  While Nonnie comforted Dottie and Guen could only stare at the scene before her, a teary-eyed Yarra bent down and gave the cat a hug.

 

"I'm sorry, Shadow.  We all are.  We're sorry that somebody would do this to you."  Yarra looked up at Guen, a mixture of sorrow, confusion and anger.  "Who would do that to an animal?"  She said, tears streaking down her cheeks.

 

Guen could only shake her head, powerless to provide her best friend with any answers.  And then she saw it.

 

Under the altar, something caught Guen's eye.  She reached down and picked it up.

 

"Maybe this explains it," Guen said with a sigh, and held the string of rosary beads up for Yarra to see.

 

"Meow!"  Shadow said loudly.

 

 

 

 

--THE END--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

This is another story from my collection Amnesty Tales, which is based on my second novel, Girls in White Dresses. This collection is in process at present