A Neat Mess

5. A Sinister Sanctuary

That Saturday was a rainy and miserable day in early spring. Sam sought refuge in a small nook in the living room, a space designed for someone needing seclusion to read or, in this case, to research whether Pavlov's concerns were valid or if she was simply hunting for a new patient.

Sam decided to summarise her conversation with the school, explaining that Jenna and Scott had a squabble. Ben had no other outlets to learn more, as they didn't have much connection with the community.

Ben was watching a game in the living room, and Jenna must have been playing quietly. Except for the faint yet distinct meowing noise of a cat-either Jenna was really good at mimicking it, or the meows were indeed coming from a feline.

Outside, further down across the rear wall, under the relentless rain, three newborn kittens lay shivering, their tiny bodies drenched and fragile. They huddled together, seeking solace in each other's presence, their faint cries mingling with the rhythm of the storm. Their mother must have been away hunting or had abandoned them under a barrel planter, which offered them too little protection.

"Hey Ben, Jenna! You wanna come save some little kittens with me?" Sam called out.

Ben and Jenna joined Sam at the window, spying on their new four-legged tenants.

Ben whispered, "First, we need to see if their mama is in the picture. Let's fire up the BBQ in the shed, and if she's around, she'll come for the food. We can trap her there for a little while, take the kittens in, dry them off, and make them a home. Then we can invite mama in. Thoughts?"

"Perfect! Ben, can you fire up the barbecue while I find Sphere's bed?" Sam said.

"And I'll watch the kittens," Jenna offered.

It didn't take long for Ben to rush back into the living room and join Jenna at the window. "Can you see her?" he asked, holding the remote control for the shed door, which he lowered to just above the ground so only a cat could crawl in. He whispered, "I put some chicken on the floor for her to eat."

"Look, Daddy! She's here, going for the food!"

"Ben! How's it going?" Sam shouted from upstairs.

"We're about to trap her in," he called back.

"Then can you come up? I could use some help here!" Jenna was jumping higher and higher on the couch.

"Look, Daddy, look, she's in!" Jenna exclaimed.

Ben shut the gate and rushed upstairs to help Sam. "Oh good, you're here. I think the cat bed is stuck under that box. Can you please lift the box so I can pull it out without making a mess?"

"Don't you think the smell of another cat would irritate them? Especially considering that Sphere was male?"

Sam ripped the bag open. "I had it steam-cleaned after he died. We're good."

"Of course you did." Ben picked up the bed and dropped it down the ladder. "We need to move quickly before the cat gets too agitated," he suggested, climbing down.

The couple walked outside where Jenna was hovering over the kittens, holding a wet cushion. She was staring down at tiny kittens lie lifeless, their fragile forms cold and still.

"What happened?" Sam shrieked.

"They aren't moving. Are they dead, Daddy?" Ben, in a futile act, pushed Jenna behind him to protect her from seeing what she had already seen.

"What happened, Jenna? Did you trip over them or something?" Ben asked in a panicked tone.

The girl shrugged.

Nobody talked about the incident until Jenna fell asleep that night. They could still hear the mother meowing and looking for her missing babies. Sleep didn't come easily that night.

"What do you think happened out there today?" Ben whispered. "Do you think she did it?"

Sam didn't move her gaze from the ceiling. "She says she didn't."

"I saw them before I walked upstairs. They were still moving. They were very young, maybe one day old-but I could see that they were alive. Also, the cushion she was holding was wet," he said.

"She might've dropped it or held it over her head," Sam postulated, scrambling for a logical explanation.

"I don't understand why you're letting it slide so easily. I mean, you know she lies a lot," he said.

"And I don't see why, out of all the possibilities, you chose the worst one. Maybe the mother killed them. You know cats do that. Maybe they ate some of that rat poison you put under the house?"

"Ate rat poison?! But they're breastfeeding. They were too little to walk yet."

"I don't know. I need to sleep," she said, rolling over.