Sal, Butter and Pepper || ONC2024

Chapter 19: Busted

Butter didn't want to open his eyes. He knew he was not in Sal's room. He could neither sense his mistress nor the man who had broken her heart. Instead, he felt the warm afternoon breeze ruffle his fur. He heard birds chirping and a stream-a few hundred meters away- gurgling. A toddler's plea to join his brother outside drifted towards him on the wings of an old forgotten tune that reminded him of his dear mother.

Butter was aware that he couldn't have died, so he was probably dreaming. But why now?

"It's alright, Sire. You don't have to be scared. It's just me. Open your eyes so that we may talk face to face."

Butter did as instructed by the voice that was as clear in his memory today as it was the first time he had heard it. "Ms. Poppy"—he stood on all fours and bowed—"It's nice to see you again. A sentiment I am sure you don't share," he added, lowering his eyes.

"That's not true. You have kept your word, Sire. For centuries, you accompanied the Woodgrips. You have watched over my descendants," the witch said. "It's more than any human would ever do for a witch he met briefly."

"Please, don't be kind to me, my lady. I know I am the reason your family suffered… still does."

"Lord Satan shouldn't have told you that." Poppy sighed and sat next to Butter on the damp grass. "In any case, it wasn't your fault. It was my decision."

"But I forgot about the prophecy as well. If I had understood it earlier, it would have given mistress Pepper a fighting chance at finding love."

"Sometimes"—a sad smile touched the witch's lips—"one can search for answers their whole lives and not find them, and sometimes answers are right there, hoping they will be found by the one they have been waiting for all along. The same can be said about love, Sire."

"I don't understand," Butter said; his belief that Ms. Poppy's command over the English language was less-than-great strengthened. The witch wasn't making any sense… again.

"You will. Soon. Goodbye, Sire."

"I sure hope so, Ms. Poppy."

***

Butter was floating on a cloud. A water-filled one. Up and down he went; drops of water landed on his eyelids and nose. It was warm and lovely. Then it stopped.

Voices, tons of them, reached him. None were unfamiliar, and most he had heard over the past few decades on a regular basis.

"I didn't think you had it in you."

Martha: the landlady.

"Poor thing didn't see it coming. Did he?"

Barnard, the barber.

"I know, right! He gave us some pretty good advice on evading taxes. This is most unexpected, seeing as he is such a model citizen."

Lob and Lidiya: Felicity's neighbors.

"He is not dead!"

Annnnd that was Pepper.

"I know he isn't, Ms. Woodgrip, but look at him. I suggest you calm down and apologize."

Oh, Mr. Magistrate is here too.

Butter heard Pepper gulp. It was an angry one. His mistress was mad.

The clouds turned aggressive. The kitten bounced off them and landed on a hand.

"Mr. Magistrate, I don't need-"

What is Sal doing here? Oh, right, he wanted to talk to Pepper. Did he? What happened after?

"Stay out of this, Mr. Hart."

Darn… he didn't.

"Fine. When you have calmed down, come see me."

"Where are you taking B?"

"To your room. I don't think Butter will appreciate waking up here…Sorry, Mr. Magistrate, I will take your leave now."

What is happening!?

"Yes, please, Mr. Hart. And we truly are sorry about-"

Why is Mr. Magistrate apologizing to Sal!?

"No need. I am fine. It was my fault. Really."

"Okay then, we won't keep you. Please rest assured it will never happen again."

"I know. Mr. Magistrate, if you are worried about the collaboration, don't be. And please, don't hold this against Pepper."

"Good. Good. I am-"

"Great!"

And the kitten was off; being carried by the manliest hands he had ever come across felt strangely comforting.

When all other voices dropped away, Sal whispered in the kitten's ear, "You can open your eyes now, B."

Oh dear. Butter shut his eyes tighter.

Sal laughed. It was like a drug, stealing the pain in the feline's limbs. "I am not going to sell you out, little one. I owe you."

The celebrity had obviously suffered an injury to the head. He sounded cuckoo. If Butter had to guess who the culprit was, he would bet his money on his mistress.

"Of course, it's a secret, so no one but I know." Sal went on, "Your mistress is scary when she is angry." Placing Butter gently on his original spot on their room's window sill, he mused, "Maybe that's why I haven't been able to gather the courage to come clean. It doesn't matter now. Pepper doesn't want anything to do with me."

Butter opened his eyes a smidgen when Sal's ramblings stopped.

Amber eyes met his green ones. "Argh!" Butter yelped and almost toppled off his spot.

"Careful there, little one. I have already struck out once. If I fail to take good care of you, your mistress will surely curse me."

Butter's brain emptied out again, taking away his ability to speak. "Meow."

Sal laughed. "You are so funny. By the way, how old are you?"

"Meow?"

"Try again, B. This time, put some heart into it; you know, like how you give it your all when you accompany your mistress on missions."

Butter was out of his depth. Why did it sound like the man knew he was capable of human speech? How did he know about their secret magistrate-approved outings? And why was there a bump on Sal's temple?

Oh no! Had Pepper given it to him?

"Are you upset with me, too?" Sal asked, crouching next to Butter like his mistress had taken to doing. Gone were the traces of joy from the man's eyes, leaving them miserable and sad. "I can't bring your mistress around, but at least you can hear me out, can't you?"

"Meow."

Sal shook his head. "I will take what I can get, little one. I don't want to get you in trouble with Pepper…or your people."

Say what!?

Chapter word count: 1062