Peyton's Place by Laszlo Kugler (best books to read for women .TXT) 📕

Peyton's Place

 The Purrfect Plan

 

The wee prey was in sight, unaware of the impending doom. The stalker was ready to pounce. Lightning speed was needed to successfully complete the task at hand. So, in a blink of an eye the gruesome deed was accomplished. This was not the first , nor would it be the last time such drama would take place.

 

*****

 

Just about a year ago, Peyton overheard her owner, Mrs.Salisbury tell her husband Sam, “Dear, since we are now residing out here in the country, and with all sorts of rodents running loose in our barn and around our property, don’t you think we should consider getting a real cat, a bigger one...you know, a mouser?”

 

Mr.Salisbury looked up from his attempt at solving the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle and replied, “ But June dear, Peyton is a good cat. Sure, she’s small, but she’s quite amicable. I’d hate to see her replaced, though I do understand how you feel about rodents in the house. I know exactly just how terrified you are of mice. Let me think about it for a few days, all right?”

 

Peyton was indeed an adorable tabby cat. She knew that herself. She would puff up each time she sauntered past the closet mirror. Not only was she cute with reddish brown fur and grey-blue eyes, but not known to her masters, she had perfectly mastered the English language. Maybe all animals, especially felines understood humans, but she couldn’t know that for sure, since she had never interacted with any other animal. Yet, the matter at hand that mom and dad spoke of had alarmed her deeply. She was truly content living here on the small farm in semi-luxury. She was afraid of being exchanged...or even having to share what was hers with another cat. What if that cat was a bully, and mean to her?. What if that other cat would throw her out of her comfy soft bed...eat her Fancy Feast kitty food? This was her place. Peyton’s place! That would never do! I need to make mom and dad realize that I’m worthy of being here. Yet, the mere thought of killing another creature, made her shudder...yuck.

 

*****

 

That was last year. Now things have changed considerably. She no longer was that timid pussy. She was a killer in her masters’ eyes.

 

Whenever, June screamed in holy terror, “A mouse!”, Peyton was ready and able to hunt down and dispose of that filthy varmint swiftly, without a mess.

 

As soon as the dirty job was done, June would rush to open the side door to let Peyton remove the carcass, and then just as quickly she would hop up on a chair. That’s how frightened she was of those long tailed furry creatures. And as soon as Peyton had proudly paraded past her and was outside, June would slam the door shut with an audible bang. It’s a wonder the window panes never shattered.

 

Once out of sight, Peyton would shimmy under the front porch where she would lay down the seemingly dead rodent.

 

“Thanks Walt. You came through very well, as usual. But next time we can play it out a little better or longer...more drama. And if you can, try to look more traumatized? Also, please let out a much louder squeak ...ok?”

 

“No problem Peyton. Just doing what we agreed upon almost a year ago.”

 

“Yep, I know. As long as I provide some scraps of food, or let you scavenge on your own without me interfering, you will continue to pretend to get caught by me....making me look like a heroine in mom’s eyes.”

 

“Do you remember the first time? I fainted even before you got to me.That sure didn’t look too convincing...hahahah.”

 

“Yes, but we have improved our act considerably since then. Also it’s a good thing that mom wears thick glasses, not realizing that it’s you each time we perform our routine.”

 

*****

 

Back, some time ago, not long after hearing about the possible terrible changes that surely would upset this kitty, Peyton, while tossing and turning in her cushy bed, not being able to fall asleep, decided to get a drink, and padded off towards the kitchen.

 

In the dark kitchen, while looking out at the moonlit soon-to-be wintry scene, she let out a long sigh. After a sip of milk, she saw what appeared to be a small mouse staring in silence back at her. At first neither of them moved. This was Peyton’s first ever encounter with a fieldmouse, or any other live creature, so she merely observed it with amused curiosity. Somehow the rodent did not panic and nor did it scurry away as it should have. It sensed that there was no immediate danger...and besides that, it was famished. Also there, not far off around the corner of the room, behind an old cast iron radiator, was a tiny hole, which concealed his family. They too needed nourishment. The Smalls, as they were called, were comprised of five members...Chantal, Walt’s wife, Aidan, Abigail, who preferred to be called Abby, Savannah, and the youngest of them all, named Jacob. And of course there was Walter...a great provider and busy fellow.

 

The following night, after June and Sam had retired and turned off their radio, Walt brought out his reluctant family so he could introduce them to Peyton...and also to proudly show them off to her.

Walt’s wife and their older son, Aidan, (once you got his attention), had no problem greeting the small cute house cat. Whereas Abby was a tad more reserved, but yet after swallowing hard, she eventually extended her tiny paw in acceptance. Although Peyton was petite, she, in comparison was monstrously huge to them. Now, Savannah, who was hiding behind her mother, merely waved and squeaked a “How do you do? Nice to meet you ma'am." Chantal then had to apologize for their youngest. “Jacob tends to scurry about like a whirlwind all day long, and by this time his batteries are all but dead."

 

No sooner after the friendship was formed, Peyton came up with a great idea, and formulated what seemed to be a brilliant plan...one which would benefit all. I’m sure by now you’ve already guessed what that entailed. The plan was...every once in a while Walt would show his furry little body, making sure the mistress of the house and Peyton were around. Then the chase would be on, with some added sound effects, to boot. After the charade was over, and the villain corned and subdued, Peyton would leave the house and head straight under the large porch which graced their modest country home. There she would drop Walt, his friend, near a crack in the old stone foundation adjacent to an unused cellar window. The crack was wide enough for his skinny body to squeeze through, but not so huge as to allow bigger rodents to enter into Peyton’s place... their cozy paradise.

 

Abby once volunteered to be the victim, but she was told she was way too small. “Maybe grandpa can fill in, he is big and f....”

 

“Abby!” cried her mother in shock.

 

“No mom, I was just going to say he’s big and fit. He could easily take dad’s place every so often. That’s all I wanted to say.”

 

“Oh...ok. I see, but your grandparents always head down south this time of the year. I’ll bet they are packing right now,” said Walt.

 

Peyton and Abby hit it off well. Whenever Peyton was bored she would knock on the radiator pipe three times, for that was her code for Abby, and her small friend would scurry over to join her. Abby was great company. She was more of a talker than a listener, which was fine with Peyton. The young mouse had so many interesting things to talk about. Peyton learned so much in the whole time the Smalls were residing there with her.

 

It was Saturday evening, an hour or so after dinner. Sam just managed to finish Wednesday’s New York Times crossword. “I swear, these puzzles get harder every day,” he exclaimed. Little did he know, it was true. June was engrossed in a short story by John Kobler.

 

“What did you say, dear? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I found a great story about a thief who wore a tax agent’s clothing. You should read it after I’m done.”

 

“Where is it? I’ll see to it tomorrow after the Sunday’s meeting.”

 

June told Sam it was in The Saturday Evening post...Jan 5 1957 issue.

 

“But that’s an old issue. At least six months old.”

 

“I know, but it still worth reading. There’s some politics there too. Something about the Hungarian people revolting against the Soviets. You might like that also. I’m done. Would you like something from the kitchen? maybe some milk?”

 

Sam nodded as June left the den and headed toward the Frigidaire. Suddenly a piercing shriek broke the homestead’s silence. “A mouse!”

 

Peyton, doing what most cats do best, was rudely awakened from her sixth nap of the day. So soon? Didn’t we do this only a week ago?

 

In the meantime Walt while snuggling with his youngest one, sleepily muttered, “What’s going on? I better go quietly and check.”

 

Peyton, fully awake and alert, came slipping and sliding around the corner into the small kitchen, nearly crashing into the gas stove. And...as she did this, Walt came out from under the radiator totally confused as to what was happening. So...another loud shriek ensued. “Sam, there are two rodents in here! Do something!” This she pleaded while shivering on top of their worn oak, but sturdy kitchen table.

 

Now, both mice scampered out of that room, and headed straight up the stairs on their way to the master bedroom. Peyton, who still at a loss as to what was happening here, was close behind them. After some noisy commotion, our heroine kitty came strutting down with two critters held firmly in her jaw. June, as always, opened the side door before hopping up on a chair...and slamming it shut with a bang once Peyton had left the house..

 

Once more, under the front porch, Peyton deposited not one mouse, but two. While upstairs, Walt quickly diffused the situation by explaining that this intruder was a good friend of the family. He was down on his luck...his wife left him, and he was depressed. So, having heard where Walt lived, he came to pay a visit and seek solace. He was going to beg them to stay, at least until things improved in his life. But before being able to find them, he was spotted. Walt had no problem with this, and Peyton neither, since now the ongoing charade can be split up between two rodents. Brad was considerably darker than Walt, so that was a good thing. Also, now Peyton was even a bigger asset, having caught two mice at the same time.

 

Life was good here, and getting better... at Peyton’s place.

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Publication Date: 07-15-2014

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