And indeed they were. Wilbur had his hands all over Dooley’s human, and was moving in for a kiss. And just as I was ready to cover my friend’s eyes so he wouldn’t have to witness this particularly sordid scene, suddenly Wilbur jerked back with a loud cry of pain, and touched his fingers to his lips for some reason.

  The next moment Gran had gotten up from that bench and said something. Then she walked away!

  “What’s happening, Max!” Dooley cried. “What’s going on?!”

  “Time to find out,” I said, and hurried in the direction of Gran. I caught up with her just as she was starting down the wooden stairs to take a stroll along the beach.

  “Gran!” I said. “What happened?!”

  “Oh, hey, Max,” she said, and didn’t even look surprised. “I just had the lousiest date in the history of dating, though I did learn a very valuable lesson.”

  “And what is that?” I asked, as Dooley joined us.

  “That Wilbur is a despicable human being and that maybe, just maybe, I’m too old to date.” Then she sighed and took off her shoes. “Wanna join me for a little stroll?”

  Now normally cats aren’t really into the whole strolling thing. That’s more for dogs. And humans, of course. But before I could say ‘Thank you but I’m fine,’ Dooley was already hurrying forward, clearly wanting to be wherever Gran was going tonight.

  So I decided to tag along.

  “So… when are you and Wilbur getting married, Gran?” asked Dooley nervously as we trudged through the loose sand.

  Gran laughed. “Getting married! Oh, Dooley, Dooley. I made that mistake once—I’m not making it again. And definitely not with a turd like Wilbur.”

  “A turd?” asked Dooley, glancing back at Wilbur, who was still sitting on his bench, checking his tongue in a pocket mirror for some reason. “He doesn’t look like a turd.”

  “Well, he is, Dooley. Some humans may look like humans, but underneath they’re really turds. Another lesson learned.”

  “So… Kingman isn’t going to be my brother? And I’m not moving into his house?”

  Gran grinned. “Not while I’m around, Dooley, and I can tell you I plan to stick around for a very long time to come.”

  Dooley let out a curt yelp, then his lip started trembling, and the next moment… he was bawling like a baby!

  “Oh, honey,” said Gran, and picked up my friend for a hug. “You should have told me you were so worried.”

  “I don’t want to move away from home, Gran,” said Dooley between sniffs. “I like my home. And my friends. And my family.”

  “I do, too, honey. And I’m never moving out. Whatever that crazy son-in-law of mine says.” She cut a quick look to me and I smiled. Apparently Tex wasn’t as good at hiding his intentions as he thought. He’d be disappointed when the news came that Gran wasn’t getting married after all.

  And so we walked along that beach, Gran carrying Dooley, and softly singing a little song for my friend. Soon his sniffles subsided, and he was himself again.

  And I must say, it was pretty soothing to walk along with the two of them. I’ve never seen the benefit of taking a walk, but there’s definitely something in it, I have to admit.

  “What did you do to Wilbur, Gran?” asked Dooley.

  “I bit his tongue.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he wouldn’t bite his own tongue and stop himself from saying all kinds of stupid things, so I did it for him.”

  “That was very nice of you, Gran.”

  “Well, I’m a nice person, Dooley.”

  That, she most certainly was, even though not many people got to see that side of her.

  20

  Brutus had just laid down his head after an interesting night spent at both cat choir and dog choir, when he suddenly remembered he’d totally forgotten about… Pinkie!

  So instead of spending a leisurely night at the foot of his humans’ bed, he hopped down again, made his way downstairs, then through the pet flap and into the backyard.

  It didn’t take him long to find Pinkie, who was lounging on a large flat stone next to the garden shed. Tex had once had the idea to place a fountain there, but hadn’t had time to bring it about. The flat stone was there, but no fountain, which was just as well, as fountains have a tendency to spew water all over the place, a habit cats are not all that fond of.

  “Hey, there, buddy,” said Brutus. “I’m sorry but I completely forgot about you.”

  “You’re refreshingly honest, Brutus,” said Pinkie. “Which is something I like about you. So how was cat choir?”

  “Oh, so so,” said Brutus. “We discovered that a couple of dogs have launched dog choir, so looks like we’ve got competition.”

  “So shall we get going?” asked Pinkie.

  “Sure, sure,” said Brutus. “So where is this pond, exactly?”

  “You’ll see,” said the little turtle. “Um, so maybe I can hop on your back? It’s going to take us a really long time to get there otherwise.”

  “Good idea. Hop on.”

  The turtle didn’t so much hop on as crawl on, and took her time to do so. But once she was firmly in position, they took off, with Pinkie directing the black cat’s steps.

  Moments later they were on the sidewalk, with Brutus telling Pinkie all about Gran’s upcoming wedding, which would cause Dooley to have to go and live with Wilbur and Kingman, and how they were all going to miss him but how that couldn’t be helped, and how humans were so darn unpredictable. And before he knew it, they had arrived.

  They were still on the street, staring up at a storefront, which announced that this was where people could find anything their growing pets needed. In other words, they’d arrived at a pet shop, aptly named ‘Pete’s Pet Paradise.’

  “This is it,” said Pinkie, her voice a little hushed.

  “This is the pond?” said Brutus. “This is where you escaped from?”

  “Yes. The pond is inside, and heavily guarded, so we’re going to have to come up with a plan, Brutus.”

  “But… you expect me to break into this place and free your turtle friends? How do you propose I do that? I’m not a teenage mutant ninja turtle, Pinkie.”

  “I don’t know what you just said,” said Pinkie. “Look, all you have to do is follow my lead.” And with these words, the tiny turtle made her way down from his back, and proceeded to move in the direction of a protective metal grille that had been placed over a basement recess. Beneath it he could see a window, leading into the store basement.

  Brutus stared at Pinkie for a moment, unsure how to proceed, but then the turtle turned and said, “So are you coming or not?”

  Brutus watched how Pinkie slipped between the grille then hopped down into the recess, and then through the open window. So he gave the grille a tentative nudge, and discovered it could easily be dislodged. After a moment’s pause, he squeezed through the grille and the wall, gracefully jumped down and proceeded into the darkness.

  Brutus had never been much of an adventurer. He liked to watch other adventurers at work, like Bear Grylls or his fictional counterpart Indiana Jones, but personally the black cat preferred to sit on his couch and experience his adventures vicariously while enjoying the comfort of his home, the presence of his friends, and a big bowl of kibble.

  None of these were present in the basement he now found himself in. There were no friendly faces anywhere in sight, and an appalling dearth of kibble—at least the cat kind.

  What there was were mountains of turtle food: some kind of fish food Brutus had taken one sniff at and had immediately discarded as not fit for feline consumption.

  The basement of the pet shop was large, with a low ceiling, and not much light. It was also pretty hot down there, and when he looked around, all he could see were large plastic tanks filled with water and… turtles. Hundreds of them—possibly even thousands. And it soon dawned on him that quite possibly he’d discovered a breeding site for turtles, located underneath this innocuous-looking pet shop.

  The water tanks—there were five of them—were easily five feet high and twenty feet wide, and spread out along the basement. The bags of fish food were stacked high along one wall, and tubes led from the tanks to a machine presumably designed to make sure the water was fit for turtle habitation. From his high perch in the only window the basement sported, he had a good overview of the tanks, and saw that the turtles ranged from tiny to a little larger—though still reasonably small—and wondered how they were possibly going to free all of these turtles—or even if that was such a good idea.

  “So now what?” he said once he’d taken all this in, and had determined that the ‘pond’ Pinkie kept mentioning was in fact these tanks her friends were kept in.

  “Now we liberate my friends,” Pinkie said.

  “You really expect all of these turtles to escape this place?” said Brutus, balking at the sheer enormity of the task. “Pinkie, there must be hundreds of turtles—thousands.”

  “Oh, you bet. Maybe more,” said Pinkie. “So let’s get them out of here, shall we?”

  Brutus had jumped down from the window and glanced up at one of the tanks, and saw that a small stepladder had been placed against the side, presumably for whoever operated this breeding farm to feed the animals. He mounted the steps and found himself looking down at the mass of turtles. The sides of the tank were smooth and straight—impossible to scale.

  “How did you get out, Pinkie? How did you manage?”

  “One of the guards left this fishing net in the pond,” said Pinkie, “and so I walked across it and then onto this ladder and out through the same window we got in.”

  “It could probably be done,” Brutus had to admit. Though it would take a long time—a very, very, very long time—for the entire basement to be cleared. And in the meantime whoever was in charge probably wouldn’t stand idly by while their precious turtles escaped from right under their noses. “Look, it’s late already,” he said. “We better come back tomorrow. I’ll ask Odelia and Chase to help us, and together we might be able to pull this off.”

  “No way!” said Pinkie. “Your humans will never agree to help. They’re humans, Brutus. And it’s humans who’ve been keeping us all prisoner down here in this pond.”

  “My humans are not like that, Pinkie,” Brutus assured the tiny turtle. “They’ll do what’s right. In fact,” he said as he gave the matter some more thought, “Chase might be able to look into this operation, and when he finds that these turtles are being kept or bred here illegally, he’ll close down the store and the animal welfare people will come in and take you all away to safety.”

  “I don’t know,” said Pinkie, wavering. “I don’t really trust humans, Brutus. They’re mostly mean, as far as I can tell.”

  “I promise you that my humans aren’t mean at all. In fact they’re very nice. And they love animals.”

  “Even turtles?” asked Pinkie dubiously.

  “Even turtles,” Brutus said with a smile.

  “Okay,” said Pinkie finally. “If you think this is for the best, I trust you.”

  “You’ll see,” said Brutus. “Everything will be all right, Pinkie.”

  And just as they were moving in the direction of the window again, suddenly the lights in the basement came on, and a loud voice said, “How many times do I have to tell you to close that window, Johnny!”

  And before Brutus and Pinkie could skedaddle, the basement window was slammed shut.

  Oh, boy, he thought as he contemplated his options.

  He sure was in a real pickle now, wasn’t he!

  21

  “Babe?”

  “Mh.”

  “Are you asleep?”

  “I was asleep,” said Odelia, digging her face deeper into her pillow.

  “I just saw the weirdest thing.”

  “What?”

  “Your mom and Randy. Hugging. And Randy was naked and your mom was crying.”

  Odelia lifted her head from her pillow to take in her partner. His profile was illuminated by the light of the moon filtering in through the curtains, but she could see that he was staring at the ceiling, his hands behind his head, and he had a look of profound shock on his face. Presumably the same look of shock she herself was now displaying.

  “My mom and Randy? Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “Well, she’s always been a big fan of his routines, but this?” They were both silent for a moment, then she said, “Do you think they’re having an affair? Behind my dad’s back?”

  “I don’t know. But it sure looked like that to me.”

  “Oh, dear. Dad will be devastated.”

  “Hopefully he’ll never find out.”

  “Don’t you think we should tell him?”

  “Absolutely not. Like you said, it will destroy him.”

  “The affair will probably be short-lived,” Odelia admitted. “Did they see you?”

  “I don’t think so. They were too busy… doing whatever it was they were doing.”

  She squeezed her eyes closed. She could just picture her mom with Randy and it wasn’t the kind of image she wanted in her head. “You know? I always thought Randy was… you know, batting for the other team.”

  “From what I saw, he’s definitely batting for Marge’s team. Things were heating up in there. In a big way. What I don’t get, though, is why she was crying.”

  She turned to face him in the semi-darkness. “Sometimes when a man does… certain things to a woman, it causes her to get emotional. I cried my eyes out my first time. And it wasn’t because I was sad, I can tell you that.”

  “Oh,” said Chase.

  “Yeah.”

  “So… do you still think it’s a good idea for your dad to examine Randy in the morning? If he gets wind that his wife is having an affair with the guy, he might want to inject him with a deadly poison himself.”

  “I’ll try to feel him out over breakfast. See how much he knows, or suspects. But if I know my dad, he doesn’t suspect a thing.”

  “Poor guy. Hard to compete with a fitness legend and global celebrity like Ran-Ran.”

  “Ran-Ran?”

  “He told me to call him Ran-Ran.”

  She grinned. “You haven’t by any chance been crying in his arms too, have you, babe?”

  She could see that he was smiling now. “No. Not exactly. Though I had the impression he wouldn’t have minded crying in my arms. How wrong I was, huh?”

  “I don’t get it, Max. We came home together last night, and went to sleep as usual, at the foot of Marge and Tex’s bed, only this morning when I woke up—he was gone!”

  Harriet looked in quite a state as she told Dooley and me her tale of woe. We were in Odelia’s backyard, enjoying those early rays the sun likes to dispense to early birds catching early worms—though I’d never want to be seen catching a worm, mind you.

  “Did you look everywhere?” I asked.

  “I did. I looked all over the place. He simply disappeared. I don’t get it. He’s never done a thing like this before. Ever. Well, except yesterday, when he went for a walk.”

  “What about his pet turtle?” I asked. “Maybe she knows where Brutus is.”

  “That’s the thing: his turtle is gone, too. Looks like they went off together again, and this time Gran didn’t take them to the beach.” She looked distraught, and I felt for her.

  “I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” I assured her. “He probably woke up early and went for a walk again.”

  “He did say something strange yesterday, remember? He said he wanted to help Pinkie free her friends from the pond they were being kept in. I dismissed it at the time, figuring it was just something he said to make this Pinkie creature feel better. But now I’m not so sure.” She gave me a thoughtful look. “What if he really did go off with Pinkie, to help her free her friends? And what if he got himself in trouble in the process?”

  “How do you free a turtle from a pond?” asked Dooley. “Don’t they like it at the pond?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I don’t understand either,” Harriet intimated. “Turtles live in ponds, don’t they? So why would they need to be freed? And it’s not as if ponds have doors and locks and stuff. It’s more an open-door kind of deal I would think.” She sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on here lately. First Gran getting married and taking Dooley along with her to go and live with that awful Wilbur Vickery, and now Brutus going on some weird turtle rescue operation. Not to mention this fitness guy about to die in Odelia’s home—and Marge having an affair with the man on top of everything else!”

  We both stared at our friend.

  “Is Marge having an affair with Randy Hancock?” I asked, more than a little surprised.

  “I overheard Chase and Odelia talk about it just now. They were talking quietly, and Odelia sounded upset about the whole thing. Apparently Chase caught them last night, naked in Randy’s bed.”

  “Oh, my God!” I said.

  “Oh, no!” said Dooley.

  “I guess Randy must have seduced her with his fatal charm,” said Harriet. “You know what celebrities are like. If George Clooney suddenly turned up at the house, saying he only had three more days to live, Marge would probably throw herself into his arms, too. Or Brad Pitt, or Chris Hemsworth. An ordinary guy like Tex doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “Poor Marge,” said Dooley. “Seduced by a dying fitness guru.”

  “Poor Tex!” I said. “They’ll probably get a divorce now, and Marge will go and live with Randy in his celebrity mansion.”

  “If he lives,” Dooley said.

  We shared a meaningful look, the three of us. “So what if Randy doesn’t live?” said Harriet, putting into words what we were all thinking. “It would save Marge’s marriage. Sure, she’d be sad for a while, and mourn the death of her hot lover. But in time she’d get over him, and her marriage would be saved.”

  “We can’t wish for Randy to die, though,” I said. “It’s not ethical, you guys. He’s a human being, and deserves to live.”