Siblings
“Mystery! Stop that! Come here,” Sandra shouted.
Mystery, the Siamese cat, continued to dance among Sandra’s sports trophies on top of the fireplace mantel. She clawed at the wall, trying to grab the housefly that hovered below the ceiling. She and Simon, a hyperactive grey tabby, had been chasing the insect around the room for fifteen minutes.
“Oh, let them play,” Linda drawled from the comfort of the blue velvet chaise longue. “What’s the harm?”
Sandra grunted. “Fine for you to say, they aren’t your trophies.” She got up and grabbed Mystery by the scruff of her neck and her back feet.
The offended Siamese let out a squeal. Her beautiful face turned hideous as her ears flattened, her eyes narrowed and her mouth widened into a perfect “o”, exposing sharp teeth like a piranha’s. With one concentrated jerk, Mystery twisted her whole body, freed herself from the grip, and leapt away. In a second, she was back on the mantle, stretching her long lithe frame up the wall toward where the brazen fly buzzed.
Meanwhile, Simon, the tabby, was pacing the floor, too nervous and clumsy to make the leap to higher ground. “Will you look at Simon,” Linda said, laughing. “His tail is poofed up with excitement. It’s almost as fat as his head.”
Simon heard his name and twisted one ear toward the source, but still kept his attention focused on the fly. His neck was starting to hurt from the strain of holding it back so far. Every few seconds he let out low “harrumphing” sounds, like a cynical old man. He had never learned to meow, because he had been abandoned by his mother and had grown up without any other cats—that is, until the arrival of Mystery. The Siamese monster had moved into Simon’s household recently. “Invaded” was more like it! She began by taking over his favourite chair, then his toys. Lately he noticed she was soaking up altogether too much of his servants’ attention. He’d be damned if he was going to let her get this fly too.
Up near ceiling level, the fly’s energy seemed to be fading. The buzzing grew slower and slower, until it sounded like snoring. Mystery stretched her front legs and strained upward in expectation. Simon plopped down on his haunches, transfixed.
Suddenly, the fly made an erratic plunge and landed on top of a low end-table. Still wriggling its legs, the bug fell to the floor near the startled Simon. The tabby lurched back in shock, but in a split second, he was on top of the fly. He flicked out his tongue and swallowed it whole. He then flopped backward and began to bathe.
Mystery jumped to the floor with a thump, glared at Simon, then with tail twitching, stalked out of the room.
“Score one,” thought Simon, as he immediately began to purr.