Miss Rachaun sighed as she drummed on the kitchen table. Make that the clean kitchen table. She smiled. Cleaning was more liberating than she could have ever imagined. Or perhaps it was that she knew, in a couple of weeks, she would have a few days to spend with her son.
The worst part of being a single mother, to her, was not being able to spend as much time with him as she would like. She felt left out of his life; and pretty soon he'll be a teenager and he'll probably push her out of it even further. Or maybe she would get lucky and he would continue to be her nice little boy, always prepared to give a hug. Speaking of the devil, she heard the water running as he started his morning shower.
She looked about the clean-ish room with another contented sigh. Was it really only eight o'clock? She had woken up at six and felt like so much more time had passed than two hours. She straightened up and looked out the open window. The wisteria outside was still dead as always. One of these days, when she had time, she would have to try and get rid of it.
Beyond the dead finger-like branches, a red car appeared on the street, slowed, and stopped at their house. The little white tigress stepped out, smiling and talking to her mother in the front seat. It was a little surprising the kids waited this long to get together. She figured they would be goofing off as soon as school got out--or at least after company had left. But here it was Monday and they were getting an early start--too early for Ket. She would have to entertain.
The knock came. She got up off the chair and went to the door, opening it as the knock came again.
"Mornin' Miss Rachaun," she greeted, and then turned to wave at her mom in the car.
"Good morning Emmy," she said, also waving bye to Garne. "C'mon in, it's freezing out there, I got your jacket."
"Thanks," Emeral shimmied out of the sleeves and straightened her hair as Ket's mom put the jacket around one of the chairs by the table. "It smells like cinnamon," she commented, pointing her nose in the air and twitching her whiskers with a sniff.
"Yup. Nothing fancy. I just lit a candle."
"My grandma's house always smelled like incense. Even when she didn't have any lit." Emeral took a seat in the chair upon which her jacket was placed and looked around while she pried her shoes off. "Spring cleaning in winter?"
Miss Rachaun smiled. "Gettin' an early start on it. So what are you two tiggers gonna do today? It's too cold to play outside."
"Christmas-show marathon," she replied, wrenching her left shoe off with a huff. "They're gonna show some cartoons from before I was born."
"Talk about a WABAC Machine."
"A what?"
"It's from a cartoon, before you were born," she smiled. Miss Rachaun's smile was always so nice. "Well, unfortunately the hero of our story just started his shower."
Emeral giggled, "Oops. I guess I came over too early huh?"
"I'll say," Miss Rachaun picked a mug from off the counter. "It's kind of my fault. I wore him out cleaning up until bedtime last night. Coffee?--Oh look at me, asking a kid if she wants coffee."
"I like coffee," she said, to Miss Rachaun's surprise, "if it has milk and sugar."
"I think I can handle that," a teacup was retrieved, "One lump of sugar or two?"
"Two, please."
"All right, but cover your head."
"Why?" She asked, an eyebrow crawling up.
"Old cartoon before you were born," the lady tigress responded with a childish smirk.
Emeral accepted the teacup filled with coffee and let the steam rise up and tickle her nose. She sipped.
Miss Rachaun fell onto the chair on the other side of the table. "I need a break," she muttered. "I don't know how a house this small can hold this much junk in it."
The white tigress blew onto her tongue. "Lyza, one of our other friends; her house is like a tumbleweed. She and I have been friends since first grade and there are still some rooms I don't think I've been in." She took another sip. "Come to think of it I've only been in this room, the stairs, and upstairs in this house."
"That's about it," Ket's mom replied. "Maybe Ket can give you the grand tour sometime." She folded her arms on the table, watching her guest take another sip. "You know what I wish?"
"Hm?"
"I wish that there was a room in every house that changed every time you went in it."
The little girl lit up brightly.
"Yeah! Like a closet that opens up and plants you somewhere in another world!"
"And, you can put all the clutter in there and it'll all disappear. Easy-peasy cleaning!"
Both girls laughed, broke into a sigh of disappointment, and then began chuckling again.
Emeral finished her coffee. "That was good," she said, setting the cup down on the table. "So, have you ever been in Ket's room?"
"Once," his mom replied, and then lifted an amending finger, "a very long time ago. It's not like I'm not allowed or anything, he just has lots of little...'artifacts,' that have a certain order. I'm afraid that if I disturb anything in there I'll get some kind of curse put on me."
Emeral giggled.
"So, why you asking," the mom said teasingly, "You gonna go snooping?"
She shook her head. "No, I just...I saw the Egypt stuff once. I had no idea he was so into it." She tried to sound as genuine as she could; she knew he was deeply fascinated with Egyptology, but just how deeply she didn't truly know, so there was some truth to her statement.
"My father--his grandfather--was an Egyptologist. I never really took after it, but he and Ket were so close it was as definite as a sunrise." His mom became a little dim, "Don't tell him I told you this but, when grandpa died, he took it really hard. It was tough, but I managed to fight my brothers and sisters to get a lot of the artifacts for him."
"Wow," Emeral said, more under her breath, "have either of you ever been to Egypt?"
Miss Rachaun chuckled, shaking her head, "Grandpa always said he would take Ket someday. But I guess tha--"
From above their heads came a muffled thump as the pipes stopped. The sound of water trickled for a moment longer.
With eyebrows lifted high, and heads turned slightly upward to gaze at the ceiling, Miss Rachaun put a finger to her lips and blew a gentle hushing breath that harmonized with the draining water.
The white tigress grinned with suppressed excitement, stifling giggles. Something was going to happen--her imagination ran wild. In it, Ket's mom pulled a rope from the ceiling, and a trapdoor opened up. Ket fell through, wearing only a towel, landing on his rump on the kitchen table.
But no such rope appeared; only silence pulled on silence. Then came another series of noises, which his mom expressed so perfectly. A series of footfalls resounded overhead, not particularly loud or menacing but slow enough. Miss Rachaun raised her hands up near her head like she was bearing vicious claws, and began moving back and forth in time with the beat of the footsteps.
"The mon-ster en-ters his lair..." she whispered, as best in time to the beat as she could.
Emeral had joined in, letting out a whispered roar.
"But soon he will emerge, and expect a sacrifice..." The lady tigress' eyes wandered down to look at Emeral.
"Eep!" She shrank away, "Not me! I'm too sweet!"
"Hmm. You're right. The monster is afraid of cooties."
"I don't have cooties," Emeral said with a huff and crossed her arms.
"Perhaps we can appeal to the monster's many stomachs. Some type of breakfast."
"Pancakes!" She slapped the table, "I can make pancakes."
"You can?"
"Yeah! Good ones. I'been practicing."
The monster's mom thought about this for a moment, a smile crawling up her cheeks. "Yes, excellent. Pancakes."
