Mr. Powderface, Rascal Cat

Mr. Powderface get the Boot(ie)

by Robin Goodfellow

Angela Belgrove, as busy as she was, found time to select with care a tiny pair of blue booties for Christopher's new baby boy. She was in a hurry to study for a pending case and dropped the booties on the kitchen table to later wrap as a present. She hurrying in to her library to study.

Mr. Powderface, lurking in the kitchen, hoping for some interesting activity to occur there that might involve scraps dropping within reach, observed the placement of the booties. As soon as Angela left, he jumped on the table and inspected the merchandise.

"Booties!" he said in disgust. "Not edible!" Then the significance of the objects hit him with a solid smack. Booties! … Babies! … Angela was going to have another baby!

Babies are bad business for cats. He had heard stories.

Some families throw the cat out when the baby comes because they are afraid of allergies. Some declaw the cat because they think that the cat (justifiably in Mr. Powderface's opinion) will accidentally, or on purpose, scratch the intruder.

When the infant begins to crawl and grab —— cat's tails are a preferred protrusion.

No! This must be averted at any cost! Hide the booties, then perhaps the chain of events will be derailed from the beginning!

Mr. Powderface grabbed the booties in his mouth and headed for the library. Angela had already selected her books and left. It was an important case and she could think of nothing else.

Mr. Powderface, with his mouthful of fuzzy blue booties, jumped up to the very top shelf of the law library and pushed his way behind the books, squeezing into the space between the back of the books and the shelf. He pushed a few of the books out toward the front of the shelf carefully, creating a space for the booties.

Meanwhile, Angela was dashing between work and home, her head full of dates, facts, appointments and upcoming conferences with clients and witnesses in three different cities. She walked past the kitchen table. There was something there she was supposed to remember. Christopher! Booties! They were gone! Or had she ever put them there in the first place? She was going to get booties, but had she? On the way home from work she stopped at the Boutique and got a pair of little blue booties with a satin ribbon around them. She put them on the kitchen table and ran to her bedroom to pack for a trip.

Mr. Powderface was surprised to see another pair of booties. "She is determined to have this baby", he thought. "But I am just as determined to prevent it!". He grabbed the booties, ran to the library, jumped up the shelves, found the large book, and placed the booties behind it, accidentally pushing the book another quarter inch forward on the shelf.

Angela was so deep into her case she didn't notice she was going to the Boutique now from habit and buying blue booties. It was part of the rhythm of life. She was so concerned about her upcoming trial she barely noticed anything she was doing that was not related.

Eric and Jason knew this phase wold pass as soon as the trial was over. They ate their morning cereal in silence, not disturbing her intense concentration.

There was one piece of information that didn't come easily in Angela's preparation for the trial. She knew that there must be some law or statue that would be appropriate, that would just clinch the case she had so brilliantly prepared so far.

As usual, when perplexed, she took out her recorder and started playing. She felt more relaxed. After a good practice, she thought she would walk into the library and see if anything would come to her. At the moment she walked in, the shelf with the booties reached capacity, the law book went past the balancing point, the booties expanded, and the book fell of its shelf into Angela's hands, followed by 15 pairs of suddenly uncompressed, exploding blue booties.

Angela looked at the book. It was the exact book she needed for the trial! Then she saw all of the booties. She remembered each one of them, because she had chosen them with care, in spite of her distracted state.

"The Booties! They are here! I'm not gong crazy! They are, after all! Somebody has been stealing them!"

Angela ran to the phone to call Eric at a rehearsal.

"I found the stolen booties!" she cried excitedly.

Eric said, "Great!" and went back to the rehearsal. "What was that?" asked the recording engineer. "Angela says she found stolen booty. I guess we're rich!" He went on playing. As he played, he thought of the beautiful glass cat in the Boutique that looked just like Mr. Powderface. "She's so fond of that cat", he thought as he played. "If we've come into money, I think I'll get it for her." He decided to drop by the Boutique after the rehearsal.

Angela was still excited about her find. She called her mother-in-law, Bonnie. Bonnie wasn't home, so she left a message on the answering machine. The machine wasn't working very well and the sound was distorted. All Bonnie heard was "stolen" and "Boutique". Her heart skipped a beat. Jason! she thought. He was caught stealing something from the Boutique! He's such a good kid. This is incomprehensible! But it has to be stopped immediately. I have to do something fast to prevent this kid from going into a life of crime!

Bonnie called Angela back.

"Don't worry, Angela, I'll take care of this. I'll pick up Jason from school today and I'll take care of everything!". Bonnie hung up, and Angela wondered what that was all about. In the meantime she realized that no baby needed 15 pairs of booties, so she decided to take back at least 13 pair and give the baby the two best pairs.

Bonnie, by this time had chosen her plan to cure Jason of further shoplifting. She would take him to the Boutique, wait for him to steak, and catch him in the act!

Meanwhile, Jason's cousin, Angela Swinderman went to the Boutique to get Christopher's baby a present. Booties would be nice, she thought.

The clerk said that he was very sorry, they were all out of blue booties. Some strange lady came in every day and bought a pair, but there were plenty of pink ones left. Angela said, "No, thank you" and left, just as Eric cam in to find that glass cat that looked like Mr. Powderface.

He was over in appliances, checking out a new toaster when he saw Bonnie, crouched behind the Get Well cards. She was watching something intently. He followed her gaze. There was his son, Jason, who had just discovered the glass cat that looked like Mr. Powderface. He picked it up to look at it.

Bonnie sprang at him and grabbed him. Eric, infuriated, instantly jumped toward Bonnie to pull her off Jason.

In the meantime, Jason, startled, dropped the cat, which broke with an unmistakable glass-shatter sound. The owner came running, grabbed Eric and Bonnie by the scruff of their necks, threw them into a stock room, and called the police.

At this moment, Angela walked in with 13 pairs of booties. She saw Jason standing in front of the glass case, trembling and about to cry. "What happened? What are you doing here? I thought Bonnie was going to pick you up!" Jason cried and pointed to the door of the stockroom. "That bad man put Daddy in there!" he sobbed through his tears. "The "bad" man hung up the phone with a satisfied smile. "We have no violence in this shop." he said pleasantly to Angela. "May I help you... Oh, its you. I'm sorry, we're all out of blue booties."

Now Angela could hear Eric's voice from the stock room.

"Let us out of here at once!!"

Angela stared at the door.

"What have you done to my husband?" she demanded.

"If that is your husband, then you are responsible for paying for the damage!" he said, vengefully.

"What damage?" Angela asked apprehensively.

"One black cat with a white face!" said the merchant. "Fifteen dollars!"

Angela grabbed at the counter and held on for a moment. How had Mr. Powderface gotten here and why was she supposed to pay for him? What had happened to him? Or what had he done, which was more likely... The man scooped up the broken glass into a small dustpan. "This!" he said. "This was broken when your husband attacked a lady in my store!"

Angela just stared at him. She knew Eric would not attack any lady or anybody without just cause.

The police arrived and the owner led them to the storeroom door. They drew their revolvers, stood back and one brave one counted "three, two, one" ... and bashed the door open, to reveal two terrified people holding on to each other for dear life.

"Well!" said the owner, smugly, "I guess your husband is having something to do with another woman!"

"Bonnie!" said Angela. "Eric!" They all hugged, with Jason in the middle. The police looked at the merchant quizzically.

"Are these the violent disturbers, sir?"

"Well, er, yes, er, well, you see, it looked like..."

The police smirked, then gave him a practiced severe dirty look and left.

Angela, Eric, Bonnie, and Jason all looked at each other, wondering how this had come about. Suddenly, they all spontaneously said in disgusted unison, "Mr. Powderface!" and left the Boutique in lock step.

At home, Mr. Powderface checked the kitchen table. There was not another pair of booties.

"Well, well," he said to himself. "I guess I stopped that problem just in time!"

He did not know that there were four people in military formation on their way to do him bodily harm. They did not know how he did it, but they knew with clarity and certainty that he did do it!