Zoomba

Ralphina sat up in her bed with the light summer blanket clutched to her thin chest. 

TP, her grey striped kitty sat in the light of the moon in front of her closet. TP (short for Tiger Paws) stared at the closed door like a statue, the only thing giving away the fact he had heartbeat, was his whiskers, they twitched like dragonfly wings.

After an hour, Ralphina’s eyes drooped involuntarily. TP leapt up onto her bed and curled in his spot behind her knees.

“Bzzzzzzzzzzz. Bowp. Beeep.”

TP freaked out. “Mroooowr!” He bounced off the bed. Ralphi shrieked and sat up. Her cat was once again staring at the closet door.

“Fine you dumb cat! I just want to frickin’ sleep.” Like a zombie she got up and opened the closet door. Then she grabbed her blankie and trundled downstairs to the couch in the living room, knowing the cat would be mewling and scratching the back of her closet again all morning.

‘She can’t hear it,’ thought TP. ‘She thinks I’ve gone all ‘senile cat.’’

“Bzt bzt bzt…”

The thing in the wall was laughing.

The next morning at breakfast, Ralphina dragged her pink hoodied self to her chair and said, “Mom, can I have some coffee please?”

Her mom, facing the stove, laughed and said, “No sweetie, pour yourself some apple juice.” She giggled again as she stirred the scrambled eggs. Then she reached overhead and took the bacon out from the microwave. She plated two steaming breakfasts and studied her daughter as she laid the plates down.

“Ralphi? You ok?” Her daughter’s eyes carried purple bags. 

“It’s TP. He’s freaking me out. He stares into the closet like he’s listening to something in there. Last week, he scratched up the wall in there, scratch, scratch, scratch…all night.”

“Can’t you close the closet door?”

“When I close the closet door he howls.”

“Maybe banish him from your room at night…?”

TP watched this exchange like a spectator at a tennis match, one in which his favorite tennis star was losing miserably. He blinked back tears and mewled in frustration. But he perked up a little as Ralphi said, “ah Mom…TP’s been sleeping with me, cuddled up on my bed, since he was a kitten. Remember how tiny he was?”

“The runt of the litter. So weak, we thought he wouldn’t live.”

‘Don’t remind me,’ thought TP. He had always believed it was the girl’s love and tender caring that had saved him. In a fit of emotion, he jumped into Ralphi’s lap and nuzzled his tiger striped head against her chin.

Ralphi said, “Awww. He knows we’re talking about him.”

‘Well duh.’

“Right Sweetheart. And he also hears voices in the walls.”

Ralphi yawned wide enough to crack her jaw.

“You got that test in Biology this morning, don’t you?”

The girl nodded and wiped the moisture from her eyes.

“Here. Don’t tell your father.” Her mom placed a cup of black coffee on the table next to her plate. “And no cats at the table please.” 

TP hopped off her lap as Ralphi took a sip and made a face. “Erg. Little help here.”

That night, TP allowed Ralphi to spoon him. He was determined to ignore the noises in the closet and was hoping that by sleeping under the covers, with his ear pressed to the girl’s heart, the beating would drown out other sounds… certain buzzing and beeping sounds that may belong to an alien robot species. A robot with sharklike teeth that laughs like a New Order cd jammed in the player. 

‘Stop. Think good thoughts.’ He thought of how week-old bird bones were deliciously pungent and crunchy. He thought of the furry mouse stuffed with heady catnip. He thought of rolling on his back in the grass as the sun warmed his belly. He drifted off to sleep purring loudly.

Ralphi turned over towards the window in her sleep and snuffled softly.

“Bzzzzzzzt. Bing bing bing.” Scraaaaa, scraaaaa scraaaaaa. The alien. Chatting, laughing…running its metal claws across the wall…teasing him.

TP slunk out of the bed determined not to wake Ralphi up. He crept silently into the closet and listened. He growled and raised his paw with claws extended, preparing to tear into the wall…

The girl snarked off a girly snore.

TP swiveled his head behind him. She slept on.

“Bwa ha ha ha.”

‘Definitely laughing at me.’ “Grrrrrrrrrrr.”

He sat and listened. The girl slept peacefully.

The next morning, TP hovered between the living room and the kitchen. His tail held high, the tip twitching like grass in the wind.

At the kitchen table, Ralphi’s mom said, “You look better today sweetie. You sleep well?”

“Yes! I feel great today. TP was good.”

“Hmmm. He’s acting kinda weird now though.”

Ralphi turned slightly in her chair and regarded the cat. “Hm.”

“Yeeeaaaaah, maybe time for a vet visit.”

TP stopped pacing. He hopped onto the couch and curled up, feigning sleep. 

Ralphi came to his rescue. “He’s fine Mom. He was so cute last night. We spooned like we used to when he was a kitten.”

“Okay honey. Maybe a little cod liver oil in his kibble is all he needs.”

TP pretended to nap until Ralphi left for school and her mother went out for groceries and the gym. He would have enjoyed a real nap; he was exhausted. But his nerves thrummed like an electrified fence. He raced up the stairs and into Ralphi’s closet. The back wall was marred with deep scratches he’d made the week before in a fit of exasperation.

‘I wonder how thick that wall is? Under the top layer, it’s rather chalky inside.’ He flexed his claws and swiped at the wall, imbedding his nails deep. “Ugh,” he grunted as he pulled free. ‘Okay, here goes…’

TP tore at the wall with both paws, right and left alternatively, like he used to do with the toilet paper when he was little, unravelling it to the cardboard tube. ‘What fun that used to be.’ 

In a couple of hours, he’d peeled away a roundish indentation roughly a foot in diameter. The chalky inside of the board was much easier to shred but made quite a mess. Chalky white dust puffed and flew and coated every shoe on the floor. He sneezed often.

By the time he’d torn a ragged three-inch hole through the wall, he looked like the cat down the street named Snowball. In another two hours, he’d widened the hole to a foot and a half. He peeked his head into it. His sharp cat’s eyes took only a couple of seconds to adjust to the lightless space. He entered the wall.

There were cobwebs and high over his head and he heard the faint tapping of black widow’s feet skittering into the corners. He shivered and his fur bristled all hedge-hoggy- style. He hated spiders. To many beady little eyes. He had been bitten by one while sleeping once. Sleeping! Sneaky little bastards. His nose had swelled painfully and itchy-burned fiercely for three days and three days for a cat is more like three weeks. With too many eyes and too many legs and pointy mouth feelers (he swore they dripped with poison) they were just creepy creepy creepy.

Some fresh mouse droppings mildly piqued his interest, but he was on a mission and was running out of time. The girl would be home from school soon.

There was a tunnel directly across from his hole. A foot and a half wide. The tunnel went on and out of sight, the two by fours and walls appeared to be smoothly filed as if by a round sander fitted with a fine gauge sandpaper. It was as quiet as a tomb.

“Thump.”

TP jumped. His heart pounded against the cage of his ribs.  ‘Ah. Just the front door.’ He exited the closet and trotted down the stairs to meet Ralphi, hoping her after school snack today involved tuna fish. 

That night, TP slept peacefully for the first time in two weeks. The closet was silent. More specifically, the alien robot monster was silent. 

The next morning was Saturday. Ralphi’s mom left early for her Pilates class but her dad was home and sleeping in late before tackling the chore’s that had piled up during the week- his ‘honey do list’. 

Ralphi was refreshed after two solid night’s sleep and got up early, figuring to ride her bike to the park and back before breakfast. She wanted her grubby ole sneakers so she could squelch all the way down to the pond’s edge where bullfrogs lurked amongst the lily pads.

She pulled the pair of faded green Converse out from the back of her closet. In the darkness of the bedroom, she put them on by feel then went downstairs as quietly as she could. TP sensed her doing all this and then stretched luxuriously after she’d gone. He heard the fridge door and his eyes popped open. As he leapt from the bed, he heard the door to the garage close, the mechanism in the lock plate clicking softly in place. A few seconds later he heard the big outer garage door’s hinges twanging as it opened upwards.

There were white footprints on the stairs, salted with clumps of white dust. He looked behind him and sure enough, there were footprints from Ralphi’s room as well.  ‘Oh oh,’ he thought. ‘I’m going to be in big trouble.’

The toilet in the master bedroom’s bath flushed. TP raced down the stairs. He paused briefly in the family room, noting the white dusty prints there were not as white as the upstairs ones. The girl had left without noticing the mess left behind her.

TP stopped at his bowl and lapped up some of the fresh milk in his bowl. He heard heavy footsteps in the upstairs hall and lifted his head, white droplets dripping from his whiskers plopped softly back into the bowl.

“What the…?!” The big man roared. A minute later…“Oh that damned cat!”

The hole in the closet wall had been discovered. Another chore was added to the man’s to do list.

TP ducked out the cat door in the people door and made himself scarce until the man’s anger abated as he knew it would…hopefully. A huge hole in a wall in the house was a lot worse than a dead mouse on his wife’s pillow.

TP cautiously slipped back in through the cat door. The fact that it was not nailed shut was a positive sign. Ralphi’s dad was watching a basketball game in the family room. Her mom was preparing supper and listening to old classic rock. Her favorite band, The Who. Ralphi sat at the table peeling potatoes. The scent of fresh ground meat with seasonings made TP’s mouth water. ‘Granny Lauren’s famous meatloaf. Yum.’

All the happy sounds and smells relaxed TP considerably. He curled around the girl’s legs and purred as loud as he could. When she looked down, he gave her his biggest glossiest eyes look and managed to closely resemble a character in a Keane painting from the 70’s.

Ralphi looked down and said softly, “Oooo, you’re in trooouble…”

Her mom looked over and raised her brows at the cat. “Won’t get fooled again” was just ending. She just shook her head slowly. “Dad was NOT happy…I’m just glad it wasn’t another dead rodent on my pillow.”

“Bweep boop bweeeeep.” Whirrah, whirrah, whirrah. TP jumped a foot in the air and meorrrrrred. He looked towards the family room where the noise came from, his eyes wide as headlights and his fur mohawked up his back like a Halloween cat.

Whirra whirra whirra… as it came towards the kitchen door TP backed into a corner.

“TP? It’s ok kitty, it’s just the new vacuum cleaner.” Ralphi peeked under the table. “It’s a Zoomba.”

“Honey, you mean ‘Roomba.’”

“Oh. Yeah. But I like ‘Zoomba.’ That’s what we can name it. Poor TP. He’s terrified of it.”

“Bzzt bzt bzt.” ‘Laughter.’

“All cats are afraid of vacuum cleaners…”

A black spaceship-looking thing rolled into the kitchen. It was about 15 inches in diameter and stood about 6 inches tall. It had two raised amber lights on the top like two glowing lantern eyes and a what looked like a spaceship hatch like the mouth of a crab.

It rolled slowly across the floor, gently nudging the cabinets and rotating back and forth like a hound on a scent in slow motion. “Bwapong. Bezzle bweep.”

“Aw he’s so cute.”

Smiling, her mom rolled her eyes, put the meatloaf in the oven, and checked the doneness of the boiling tators.

“Meeeeeerowwwwwrrrrr. Fssssssss.” TP appeared to be frozen in terror.

Dad came into the kitchen. He waited until Zoomba had vacuumed the area in front of the fridge then he got himself another Corona.

Ralphi handed him a wedge of lime from the small bowl on the table.

“Thanks honey. Wow. That bad cat is terrified of the new vacuum.” He laughed. “Cool. Serves him right.”

“Daaaaad. He could have a heart attack.”

“Ha. I should have bought a Roomba ages ago.” To Maureen he said, “Thanks for getting one. The thing works great…all the chalk dust is gone. Even the stairs are clean.”

Maureen said, “I thought you bought it. I didn’t. It was cleaning up the dining room when I got home. You were still fixing the wall upstairs.”

“Lupita must have brought it over. She’s been bugging Diego forever to get her one.”

“That must be it.”

“How’d it clean the stairs? I didn’t think they did that.”

“Bzt bzt bzt.” The laughing Roomba about faced and crept towards the cat.

TP unfroze and leapt through the cat door like a grey blur of lightening.

Later that night when the home was quiet and the humans were sleeping, TP slowly slunk back in through the cat door. He peeked into the living room. No demon robot. He found it in the family room next to the tv stand. It was immobile and dark. TP bravely touched it. Nothing. Then harder, whap. Nothing. It was turned off. 

TP suspiciously backed away from it. It’s eyes slowly opened. Glowing yellow.

“Hissssssssssss.”

“Bzzzt bzzzt bzzzt.” Laughter. Malevolent as a mad scientist’s. The eyes turned red as bloody taillights.

TP backed away, not daring to turn his back on the robot monster.

The crab-hatch mouth opened, the ramp dropping to the carpet. 

Out came the spiders.

They were black and shiny like black widows but hairy. The faint light from Zoomba’s throat faintly illuminated a horde of chattering, scuttling creepazoids. Beads of poison clung to their maws.

TP at last turned and fled. He zigged to the left, heading towards the kitchen. As one bubbling fibrous black puddle, the spiders turned as well. They scittered under the kitchen table and spread out, at least two hundred of them; they blocked his path to the cat door.

TP skidded to a halt and was horrified to find himself sliding over the slick linoleum right at them.

His paws slid frantically around and managed to snag a pair of chair legs. He leapt onto the chair and then onto the table. The spiders didn’t hesitate to scamper up the table legs and TP didn’t hesitate to leap from it and over the Roomba that had snuck up behind him.

“Buck buck buck. Ding.” It sounded like it was cursing.

TP’s feet scrabbled over the carpet, tearing out tufts, but he was not going anywhere.

Snap! Then intense agony in his tail. He glanced behind him and saw the robot demon had his tail between the sliver jaws of a wicked pinscher. His throbbing tail was bent at a ninety-degree angle four inches from its end. 

TP’s claws were embedded in the carpet. Zoomba’s hatch opened halfway in a wicked grin, the red eyes narrowed. From the hatch, deep inside the monster a nasty metallic whirring started up. The sound was like a thousand little knives spinning and gnashing together. The mouth opened further, and its body was raised up under it. It was from underneath that the claw had protracted from. A second whipped out and snatched TP’s left leg. The silver segmented arms receded back into the robot, dragging the cat towards it. The mouth opened wide and TP’s worst imaginings about the metal teeth proved true. A thousand gnashing knives like shark’s teeth spun and whirred like a goblins woodchipper.

The cat was gone. 

For two days, Ralphi wept and took her meals in her room. She only nibbled at them. Maureen cried for her daughter. David attempted to make them both smile but knew only time would heal their hurt.  TP must have run away, frightened by the robot vacuum, it was the only logical explanation. By Thursday, Ralphi was joining her parents for meals at the kitchen table though she still leaked silent tears once in awhile.

Lupita appeared in the doorway. Ralphi’s back was towards her. Her normally rosy face was ashen grey. She put a finger to her lips when David looked up. Without a word he got up and followed her down the hall. In the family room, David said, “What is it, Lupita? What’s---”

With eyes round as marbles Lupita held up a furry, stringy thing. 

“A mouse?”

Lupita said nothing, her bottom lip trembling. David took the thing from her between two pinched fingers and studied it closely.

It was four inches of a cat’s tail. It was striped where it was not matted with blood.

“Wher---”

“On the top shelf. By the tv.”

“Hm.”

David went back to his lunch, thoroughly confused.

“What did Lupita want Daddy?’

“Oh…she says her daughter’s beagle just had puppies and thought you might like one.”

Ralphina’s eyes lit up.

So did Zoomba’s.