Ridges of Doom

Chapter Five

I sat at the foot of Truman's bed that night, unable to sleep, eyes wide, ears perking at the slightest provocation. I kept thinking about the sharpness of old Rolo's claws and teeth, how they rushed toward me at blinding speed. Whenever the wind blew or the stray alley cats knocked over a trash can, I jumped, thinking the Shepherd had come to kill me in my sleep.

Relax, Yama, I reminded myself. The dog doesn't even know where you live, and he probably doesn't care enough to find out.

Even so, I couldn't find rest that night. Whenever I closed my eyes I saw him, his hate-filled eyes boring into my ridgeless back in disbelief. If I had been any one of my siblings, I then realized, that wouldn't've happened. In fact, perhaps quite the opposite would've happened. They would praise me, look up to me, even, for being the perfect son of a perfect bitch.

What a world that would be.

The door to Truman's room creaked open slightly and my ears perked. A large, orange figure slinked into the room in the darkness, barely visible. I sighed. So Neville had come to berate me some more, too. I braced myself for more insults, but they strangely didn't come.

"Come, pup. I've something to show you," was all the cat said before turning back into the shadows, out the door once more. I supposed I had no choice but to follow; anything was better than sitting in bed, wallowing in my own paranoia as I waited for some impossible fate. Slowly and quietly as I could, so as not to wake Truman, I jumped off the bed and exited the room.

Neville took no time in waiting for me to catch up, as he already sat at the post I had first met him at when I finally entered the hall. We were upstairs; Truman's room was one of the many in the long, carpeted hallway. I noticed a thin strand of what looked like yarn dangling from the ceiling directly above Neville. At first I reckoned it was a toy Truman had made for him years ago, but I quickly came to realize it was something more.

The cat sat up on his haunches and began to bat at the yarn with a strangely serious and business-like face. I was confused as to what was happening until suddenly he caught the yarn between two of his claws and pulled. Much to my surprise, a small square of the ceiling the yarn was attached to fell open, revealing a dusty old room above this one. I stared up at it in disbelief, though Neville looked thoroughly content with the entire situation. Well, he looked that way with just about anything.

"This hole leads to the attic," he explained. "From there, there's an old window that's long broken."

"You don't reckon..."

"I do." For the first time that night, Neville stared directly at me with an almost maniacal look in his eyes. "Don't worry, you ridgeless puppy, I've been outside countless times, and so long as you keep to the rooftops you can't go wrong. Now follow me."

With grace unbecoming his age he leapt into the hole in the ceiling and disappeared again. I wanted to protest, but nothing came to mind, so I did my best to follow the cat. It took a few tries, but I finally was able to reach the top of the post, and though the hole loomed eerily above me, I held my breath and leapt for all I was worth, barely clambering into the attic.

"Quiet, now," came Neville's voice from deeper within the attic. I could barely make out his silhouette in the darkness, illuminated only by the stars of the night sky shining through an open window across the room. The attic itself was musty and unpleasant, with creaking wooden boards wherever I laid my paws, not to mention the ever-chilling feeling that we weren't alone. I felt as if there was a Rolo in every corner of the place, waiting in the shadows to strike, and kill.

"Hurry along, dog, we ain't got all night!" Neville mewled in annoyance. It snapped me out of my worry and I began to move across the eerie place, constantly reminding myself that this was indeed part of my home, and that I was safe. Still, though, I wondered where exactly the cat was taking me. Was this a scheme to get rid of me for my ridgelessness? What in blazes was this feline up to?