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Danny, Alice & Her Cat – by Janette Jorgensen, Ann-Louise Truschel & Gordon Lawrie

15/11/2013

 
This is a series of stories which a couple contributors knocked backwards and forwards at each other for a short while. They've been collated to make reading them a little easier – the date of the post is simply of the most recent entry.

PART ONE


From the cover of the buildings opposite, Danny could just see the car, a small red Ford parked across the road. The street was empty. It should be safe enough now.

He checked his watch: one minute. He could feel the sweat start to trickle down his back, in his palms, even on the soles of his feet. At moments like these he lived on the very edge.

Just seconds to go – Danny could feel his heart pounding. Then: three, two, one... nothing.

He breathed a sigh of relief, crossed the road and started to make out another parking ticket.

by Gordon Lawrie

PART TWO

From the cover of the buildings opposite, Danny could just see the car, a small red Ford parked across the road. The street was empty. It should be safe enough now. He breathed a sigh of relief, crossed the road and started to make out another parking ticket when he noticed a cat in the car.
Could it be??? Yes! It was! It was his girlfriend Alice's cat! Alice loved her cat, and she had been pacing the streets seeking him out and sticking posters on lamp-posts, all to no avail.
Danny opened the unlocked car door, picked up the cat and immediately drove the found feline to Alice's house.
Danny rang the bell. When Alice answered, Danny handed her the cat, got down on one knee and said, "Will you marry me?"
How could she refuse?!

by Ann-Louise Truschel



PART THREE

Danny rang the bell. When Alice answered, Danny handed her the cat, got down on one knee and said, "Will you marry me?" How could she refuse?

“I was watching you from the window and I’m grateful you found my cat,” she said, taking it from him. “But you’re giving me a parking ticket ?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Danny, “It’s my duty.”

Alice also knew her duty. Travelling recently on an Italian train – and just lying on the floor – she’d found something that would solve all her problems.

She took the gun from her pocket and shot Danny dead.

by Gordon Lawrie

PART FOUR

Alice looked at her hand.
Oh no.
Sure I was pissed, but did I really fire my Italian revolver?
Why was it laying there in plain view?
Didn't I remove the bullets for transport through customs?
She hadn't realized that she had been speaking out loud until Danny spoke.
“Inquiring minds want to know – did you really mean to kill me?”
Alice looked at him.
“I hate parking tickets. I lost my head.”
“Ah, I lost my love, but not my life. Goodbye, Alice,” Danny said sadly,
“Maybe you should ditch the gun.”

by Janette Jorgensen



PART FIVE

Alice was closing the door when she heard a voice gasping on the doorstep.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Danny groaned. “I’m still alive - all parking attendants are issued with Keflar vests. We get shot at all the time in this job. So – will you marry me?”
“But you said you’d lost your love,” Alice said. “How can we marry without love?”
“I meant I’d fallen in love with your cat, but now he’s yours again.”
“Will you cancel the parking ticket?”
“I can’t, don’t you see.”
Alice lifted the gun and took aim again, this time at Danny’s head...

by Gordon Lawrie


PART SIX

Suddenly she was aware of the weight of the gun. She shook herself slightly. Raging hormones, she thought, this time remembering the consequences of such action.
She lowered the gun.
Narrowing her eyes, she asked him, “Do you love the cat more than you love me?”
He pretended to deliberate. “Hmm, good question.”
She started to raise her arm again.
Danny twisted the gun away from her.
“But f you die, I could have the cat.”
He laughed maniacally as he felt the heft of the gun.
Click. Click.
Damn. No more bullets.

by Janette Jorgensen


PART SEVEN

Damn. No more bullets, Danny realised. Undeterred, he reached into his jacket where he kept a selection of spare bullets for just such an eventuality. As Alice watched in horror, he rapidly reloaded.

Danny was about to fire again when Alice’s cat suddenly jumped into her lap to act as a feline shield. “You’ll have to shoot me first!” the cat yelled, breaking years of silence. “And you’ve only got six bullets there – I’ll still have three lives left!”

As Alice and Danny stood stunned, the cat added, “For heaven’s sake, why not just marry and give me some peace?

by Gordon Lawrie


PART EIGHT

Danny stared at the cat with whom he felt a mysterious kinship – this cat who'd offered itself to protect its human.
Had the cat really spoken?

“Alice, I get that you don't want to marry me. I know you don't love me, but could we work out something? Play Scrabble on Tuesday nights for instance, Canasta on Fridays? And when you travel I'll be around to keep our beloved cat company.”

Alice was weeping silently. Damn hormones. She hated displays of emotion – but her cat, her wonderful miraculous cat! It was completely overwhelming.

by Janette Jorgensen


PART NINE

"I could manage Scrabble on Tuesdays," Alice bubbled, “but I go weak at the thought of Canasta. And he’s not ‘our’ cat, he’s mine,” she bristled.
“Hang on,” said Danny. “Now the cat can speak, why don’t we ask him?”
Alice’s cat scratched its head. “I could tell you, but I’m not allowed to.”
“Eh?”
“I’ll explain,” the cat said. “All cats belong to Trappist orders, and we can only speak in emergencies. I could conduct your marriage, though. In fact, I’d be honoured.”
“Sounds great,” Danny said. “So, Alice, will you marry me?”
Alice surrendered. “Acaba, acaba!” she cried.

by Gordon Lawrie


PART TEN

Puzzled, and incapable of letting another have the final word, Danny asked,
“If Canasta doesn't suit, we could play Twister instead.”
“Twister?!” Alice shrieked, “I'm not sure I can balance the way I used to.”
She leaned over again to scratch the ears of her devout cat, her left leg stretched out behind her.
“Your balance looks perfect, darling.”
“I guess that's the affect MY cat has on me,” she replied, harbouring a warm glow because he'd said “darling.”
The cat looked smug, but it was an illusion. Trappists know the dangers of pride.

by Janette Jorgensen

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