The Keeper. Part 1. An Invitation

Speakes Craig

‘What took you? I’ve been waiting ages,’ meowed the cat, spotting him coming up the path.

‘Aunty M decided I needed to help her vacuum everything. Come on, let’s get out of here before she and mum come up with something else for me to do.’

‘Good idea. But don’t think for a moment that your life is harder than mine. I just woke up with ants in my fur!’

In all the excitement of discovering that he could talk with the cat, Arthur had quite forgotten about the events of the previous afternoon, and it was only once they climbed up onto the railway path that everything flooding back. Drawing nearer to the spot where the train had stood, two hefty crane engines were now lifting large pieces of tangled metal out of a very large hole.

‘Cat, look there. That’s where a weird-looking black train was parked last night…You’re not thinking what I’m thinking, are you?’

‘Well, not unless you were also thinking that we’ve just missed the turning for the lake path.’

‘Halt! That’s as far as you!’ growled a man, suddenly appearing from down the side of the embankment, dressed like a security guard. ‘This section of the line is closed.’

‘Closed? But why? What happened?’ Arthur asked, seeing that a whole load of trees on either side of the hole had been blown over, and that most of them were blackened and charred.

‘Nothing happened,’ the man replied tersely.

‘Nothing!?’

‘That’s right. And that means that there’s nothing here that you need to be concerned about. Now, be on your way before I phone your parents and tell them that you’re trespassing and poking your nose into things that don’t concern you!’

Pretending for a second not to have heard him, Arthur craned his neck to see what else he could see.

‘Go on! Be off with you,’ said the guard, noticing the cat by Arthur’s feet and becoming more agitated. ‘And take that fleabag with you!’

‘Fleabag, indeed. I bet he has more fleas that I do,’ grumbled the cat, as they headed back towards the main crossing to the lake.

‘You know, Cat, I have this really strange feeling that whatever happened here was somehow connected with that white light last night. Only, I still don’t get why it made my hands go all weird?’

‘And my tail!’

‘Really? What happened to your tail?’

‘It went all black hole-like. It totally freaked me out. I thought I was about to get sucked into myself or something.’

‘Army, train, white light, a huge hole in the railway line. What do you reckon it could mean?’

‘That it’s probably time to get the heck out of dodge, while we still can.’

Arthur stopped and looked at him.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Beats me. I think I heard it on a cowboy film once.’

‘Really!?’

Reaching the road, Arthur found that the barricades from the previous evening had all been removed. The men, too, were gone. The only signs that anything had happened were dozens of scorched patches of ground, all triangular in shape and about the same size.

‘What do you think could cause burn marks like that?’ he asked, crouching down to examine one of them.

‘Giant pizza slices,’ mused the cat, and jumped out of the way as a twig came hurtling towards him.

‘Well, whatever they were, they’ve all been cleared away, by the looks of it.’

Disappointed not to have found anything more and guessing that he probably wasn’t going to now, Arthur left the cat stalking something in the hedgerow and headed to the jetty. On the other side of the lake, yesterday’s crowd had returned; groups of kids were jumping and shouting near the water’s edge, while their parents lay on towels nearby, looking like pink seals.

‘Damn birds!’ meowed the cat, catching up to him.

‘No luck?’ Arthur asked, casting out his fishing line.

‘Luck? Depends on what you mean by luck. I wasn’t trying to eat them, if that’s what you were thinking. Not much into feathers—they’re always getting stuck in my teeth. No, if you must know, I was just trying to teach them a lesson.’

‘Really? What kind of lesson?’

‘I don’t know, just a lesson… What?’ he meowed, seeing Arthur’s puzzled look. ‘Why should there have to be a reason for wanting to teach pesky birds a lesson?’

‘Yeah, but Cat…’

But before he could finish what he was going to say, the tip of his rod dipped sharply.

‘Oh my God. It’s a monster!’ he cried, striking hard and feeling a heavy weight suddenly twisting and pulling on the other end.

‘Speaking of fish, it might come as a surprise to you to know that I’m not into fish much, either.’

‘What kind of cat are you?’

‘The roast chicken kind.’

Arthur laughed.

‘You know that they’re birds too though, right?’

‘Not the way I get served them, they’re not.’

It must have taken a full ten minutes before Arthur was been able to land it. The fish had weaved left and right, breaking the surface, and thrashing about wildly before diving again, attempting to tangle his line in the reeds. Finally managing to haul it onto the jetty, Arthur watched triumphantly as it flopped around on the weathered wooden boards. By far the biggest ever, in his mind he could already picture the expressions on everyone’s faces when he brought it home.

‘So, do I take it that you’re planning on keeping it, then?’ asked the cat.

‘Too right I am! This one’s for the frying pan. Aunty M will have a fit. She’s always laughing because I never catch anything big. Now let’s see what she’s got to say!’

‘Right you are, then.’

‘Just look at it! Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to keep it.’

‘Oh, no reason, really,’ purred the cat. ‘Only it seems pretty desperate to try to make a deal with you, that’s all.’

Arthur raised an eyebrow.