Mr. Powderface, Rascal Cat

Mr. Powderface Unplugged

by Robin Goodfellow, 2015

Angela Belgrove saw in the mirror that there were bags under her eyes and she had a sleepy look on her handsome dark face. She was applying some makeup when the lights went out. Startled, she heard swearing from the basement where her husband, Eric, was catching a quick rehearsal on his electric guitar before going to his class at Glenview school where he was teaching 6th grade.
Their son, Jason, ran into the kitchen, "What happened? Why are the lights out?" he demanded. This had only happened once in the seven years of his life...in a storm, but there was no storm today.
"I just plugged in the amp to the guitar and everything went dark," his father explained as he came up the stairs from the basement. "I know the lights flicker when we use too much electricity." He ran his fingers through his blond hair in frustration. "I just haven't had time to get the wiring upgraded. But it hasn't actually gone out before!"

Suddenly Eric became aware that his wife was near tears. "What's the matter? I'll just go replace the fuse. No problem."
This time the tears got the better of her. "I can't take this!" she yelled, leaning against their new freezer. Jason looked at her, stunned at this most unusual display.

"I have this case, this really important case, on Friday and there is so much going on here I can't concentrate!", she sobbed. "I'm trying to defend my clients against this huge corporation who is their landlord. There are so many violations of the health and safety codes they can barely be counted. But the corporation has so many highly paid lawyers on retainer that it is ridiculous for me to even think about fighting them, but I'm going to try! The case comes before the judge on Friday and I just have to find some way to block all the strategies they will find to stop me. I have to concentrate on this 24/7. I can't help Jason with his homework, or anything but this case! There are 200 people living in this rat-trap of a building and if I lose, they will all be evicted for having complained!" She sobbed again. "But I want to help Jason, I want to be a good mother and wife!" This time she threw herself into Eric's arms and cried soundly while he tried to comfort her and Jason stared with wide eyes and felt sad and scared at the same time.
Eric pulled back and looked at her. "I have an idea!" he announced. Angela sniffed into a tissue and dried her eyes. She looked up expectantly.
"Here's what we do. Lat Jason go to Mom's tonight after school and stay there a few days until your case comes before the judge. I won't be able to get the electricity fixed for a few days because of my teaching and playing schedule. Why don't you just get a hotel room in SF and stay there until the case is closed? I have a lot of gigs after school this week because of all the Halloween parties and I can't take care of Jason, either. Mom won't mind and he'll be fine there.
Angela started to protest about the cost of the room, but Eric knew the idea appealed to her. When she had out of town cases, she sometimes stayed over and Jason was sent to Bonnie, his grandmother, who always welcomed him. He convinced her this was no different and to do it.
She gratefully accepted and quickly packed an overnight bag and sat at the computer making hotel arrangements. Jason packed a few clothes in his backpack with his books.

Eric picked up the lesson plans for the day and Jason threw his backpack in the open car, not realizing that Mr. Powderface, his infamous black cat with a white face had strolled into it earlier and was asleep on the floor behind the passenger seat. When Jason got out at school, the cat slinked out too, following him into the playground. Jason didn't know why his classmates pointed at him and giggled and said things like "Oh, how cute", although Mr. Powderface was anything but cute. He had a permanent snarl on his face and batted an unfriendly paw at a little girl who tried to pet him. After the embarrassment of thinking the kids were pointing at him, Jason realized what had happened. The fear he had felt this morning seeing his mother crying was nothing to what he felt now, knowing his cat was with him. Hi first thought was how to hide him. The bell rang and the children ran up the steps from the playground. Jason was alone on the deserted blacktop with Mr. Powderface, who was nonchalantly licking his paws and washing his face. Jason grabbed him and quickly ran up the steps to the back of the auditorium where it was dark and the first preparations for the annual Halloween Carnival were strewn around the stage. He found a large cauldron with a wire net lid and quickly dumped Mr. Powderface into it and secured the lid. He ran to ckass and was still breathing hard when Mrs. Salvatore called the class attendance.
After school, Jason picked up his backpack and carefully removed the books from it and put them inside his desk. Eric had left already for an early Halloween Party gig in San Mateo and he had directions to walk directly to his grandma's house. Jason took the now half empty backpack with the remains of his tuna sandwich lunch in it and headed for the backstage cauldron.
He was not alone.

Three boys from another class were sneaking up the stage stairs to see if they could find out what this year's haunted house would have in it. They cautiously edged near the cauldron and an unearthly yowl met them. The scrambled down the stairs with chills going up their backs and nearly bumped Jason off the stairs in their hurry to leave the truly haunted place!
Jason lifted the lid enough to put the open top of his backpack at the cauldron, inviting the yowler in. Mr. Powderface smelled the tuna. Jason scratched on the outside of the bag and Mr. Powderface, both hungry and curious, jumped into the bag. Jason quickly secured it and ran down the steps, bumping the awkward weight behind him.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when he arrived at the Swinderman's, his grandparent's house. He was worried about how Bonnie would accept Mr. Powderface in her house after all the disasters that cat had caused in the past. She met him at the door, welcomed him in and told him to leave his backpack on one of the beds in the basement and come back up to wash for the potluck supper. It was Wednesday when there was a family open house and friends and neighbors came for food and conversation with cigars and drinks on the deck outside the dining room.

Jason dumped Mr. Powderface on the bed he chose for the next few days and went up the winding stair to the kitchen, being very careful to close he door at the top securely. Mr. Powderface, in a foul mood from being kept locked up in a cauldron all day, jumped from the bunk bed and out the door. He could smell the food above him and could even see feet through the slats of the deck floor. He ran up the stairs and found Grandpa Swinderman in his deck chair holding forth with a story that kept his audience in great anticipation of the punch line. Mr. Powderface rubbed against his leg and Swish, as he was known, absentmindedly slipped him bits of cheese under the table as he talked. When he finished and everybody was laughing, Swish looked to see what it was he had been feeding, but Mr. Powderface, impatient with the tiny tidbits, smelled kippered cod in the living room and left for fishier pastures. The table was loadd with chicken and dolmas, salads and deserts, slices of ham and piles of Bree with cut slices of sourdough bread.
Mr. Powderface, alone in the living room with all the people still on the deck, reached up to the kippered cod. His claw got caught in the tablecloth and he tried to shake it free. The more he tugged, the more the claw stuck. With a final pull, the table cloth advanced to the cat, the claw came free and the tablecloth spilled its burden on the cat, the floor, and splashed the telephone stand...
With a quick mouthful of kippered cod, Mr. Powderface raced from the scene into the living room. He jumped to the highest place he could find, the mantelpiece above the fireplace, and tried to look like another of the statues there, but he knocked over the elaborate God's Eye circular yarn weaving the Swinderman's had picked up in their travels. It flew to the ground and rolled, appearing to be a bird in flight and then run on the ground. Fear of people was blotted out in Mr. Powderface's mind and a more primitive urge to chase prevailed. He caught the fleeing yarn and stick structure, unraveling a good part of it just as people were screaming and lamenting the mess in the dining room. They were picking up the pieces of broken plates and trying to save whatever had not touched the floor. Mr. Powderface, desperate to leave the scene, dashed into the upstairs guest room where Amie, from the Gambia, was visiting for a few days. He dashed under the bed, where Aie had big suitcases that smelled of airport, strange places, strange animals ... after the commotion in the living room had settled down, Amie came into the room with Dorthy Krus and Mr. Powderface jumped into the little alcove that looked out over Vista Street and had Bonnie's desk for her computer. He crossed over the keys of the computer and hid behind it where he had a view.
Amie, in the guest room, pulled a suitcase from under the bed and opened it for Dorthy Kruse. Dorothy was amazed at the beautiful tie died colors of the fabric of the dresses Amie had brought to sell from her co-op in the Gambia. They were discussing the possibility of creating a certain pattern of fabric that Dorothy could buy for her own sewing when Bonnie shrieked from the living room "Who ruined my god's eye?" The ladies dropped the cloth on the bed and ran to the living room where Bonnie had discovered the god's eye on the floor in great disrepair and a few statues knocked down by Mr. Powderface's tail as he chased after the giant "bird".

Left alone in the alcove, Mr. Powderface, curious about the interesting smelling cloth on the bed jumped down from the desk and onto the bed to investigate. He was eagerly sniffing when somebody burst into the room. With no time to leave, he crawled under the cloth to hide. It was getting dark now as Jason entered to look for Mr. Powderface. He couldn't find him where he had left him in the basement and when he heard the crash in the living room, he knew Mr. Powderface was close. He wasn't thinking of Powderface, however, when he saw the cloth moving in the dark. It was very close to Halloween and the black tail peeking out form under the pile didn't say Powderface to him, it said scary Halloween cat to his seven year old mind. Believing the room to be haunted, he ran out into Bonnie's arms, screaming in fear. It was almost too much for Bonnie, after the table disaster, the god's eye, and now her beloved grandson scared of something in the guest room. She walked him back into the room, flicked on the light, and there was nothing there but a pile of tie dyed material. It wasn't moving at all. She tried to calm him without suggesting he was making up things. She took him out to the dining room where some of the goodies had been salvaged and gave him a piece of her triple chocolate cake.
In the meantime, Mr. Powderface had jumped into the alcove again, walked across the keyboard and sat looking into the night.

Angela came home Friday, exhausted but very pleased. She had found enough evidence and enough information in dusty law books to effectively convince the jury that the landlord was indeed in teh wrong and had to pay up, as well as improve the living conditions of his building and assure the tenants they would not be forced out or the rent raised.

Nobody realized that the reason the lights went out was that Eric and Angela had bought a new freezer. They plugged it in, but Mr. Powderface, curious about the goings on behind the new intruder, had playfully pulled on the cord and unplugged the appliance.
Eric plugged in his guitar when the freezer was unplugged and therefore not properly working. After the repairman came and said disgustedly to Eric, "It was unplugged, sir", the plug was back and electricity running to the freezer. That morning when Eric turned on the amplifier to his guitar, the load was too much and the house went dark.

Bonnie stared at the screen on her computer, displaying an ominous combination of letters and numbers. Had somebody hacked her computer? Was somebody swearing at her electronically? A chill ran up her back as she remembered the table, the Gods' eye, Jason's fear, and came to a very uncomfortable conclusion.
This house is haunted, she decided, trembling.

Even Mr. Powderface, this time, did not realize he was the cause of it all.

10/09/2015