The Santa Society Read Online Free PDF Page B

the side and stands ankle-deep in bath water, looking like an overly dignified statue.
    I set to work quickly, before he changes his mind.
    An hour later, he lies in the kitchen floor wearing a holly leaf bandana as I pull his treats from the oven. Tiny dog treats cover the cookie sheet. The bones look gritty, brown, and unappetizing. My mother’s recipe box saved the day.
    A loud rap at the front door makes me jump. The cookie sheet tilts and cookies slide to the edge, but I get the pan to the counter before they spill. The door bell rings.
    Klaus stays to guard the treats as I rush into the living room to get the door.
    The bell rings three more times before I manage to get it open. When I snatch it open, a hand pulls away from the button, but not fast enough to stop the beginning of another chime. It makes a strange chirp then halts midway.
    Two people stand on the porch. The one nearest me clutches an animal to her chest. Its whiskers are stubby like they’ve broken off, and its eyes consume most of its wrinkled face. In the corners of its mouth, thin suede-like skin is wrinkled together as though gathered in a stitch. Two large bat ears stand at attention, facing me like satellite dishes tuning in a signal. Slowly, it dawns on me that I am seeing the face of a cat, a hairless cat strapped into a harness with a leash. Below his dignified face, dangles an ID tag. It reads: Pigs.
    I’m speechless.
    I shift my gaze to the woman who holds it. She wears a Russian fur hat over her short blond hair. The exposed strands in front form two inch spikes, revealing black roots as dark as Indian ink. Heavy eyeliner has gelled in her tear ducts forming globs of grayish eye gunk and her long, thin nose looks pinched by an invisible clothespin.
    “Mr. Pigs is here to view your home.” Her nostrils flare as she speaks in a reverent tone. “He has an appointment at three.”
    I blink at her. My mouth has fallen open, so I snap it shut.
    Just behind her, a frail man silently mouths the words, “I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes in a slow motion wince for emphasis. His upside down smile reminds me of the kind that usually accompanies “Please accept my condolences.”
    I shift my gaze back to Pigs. “I didn’t realize anyone was coming. My realtor didn’t tell me.”
    Pigs studies me.
    The woman raises an eyebrow at me. “Do you mind if we wait inside?”
    “No, I guess that’s okay.” I step aside.
    She breezes past me, carrying the cat like a figurehead on bow of a ship.
    The man hovers in the doorway. “Margaret, maybe we should just wait outside.”
    “Don’t be silly, Charlie. We might as well let Pigs get a feel for the home’s vibrations.”
    She glances at me and proceeds to turn in a wide circle, holding the cat in front of her as if he is a dousing rod.
    Charlie shrugs his shoulders and keeps his eyes on the ground as he enters. I close the door. He and I stand opposite each other, as Margaret completes a final circle. She bends down and carefully sets Pigs in the floor. She squats and whispers in his ear before she steps back.
    I am not sure what Pigs is supposed to do next. He looks like a carved idol or tiny cult leader sitting on my living room floor. Slowly, he rises to his feet and begins sniffing. His lithe, knobby body is eerily reminiscent of bones sheathed in a tanned hide…like a cat mummy. He takes a few steps and stops, making quick flicking motions with each paw as though he’s stepped in something unpleasant and means to sling off.
    Klaus’s large head appears in the kitchen door. I’d forgotten about him.
    “Pigs senses a blue vibration. Has a famous actor or actress ever lived in this house?”
    “No.” My eyes remain locked on Klaus as I answer. I have no idea what he thinks of cats. His ears stand alert as he stares at Pigs. I’m afraid that anything I do will trigger a pandemonium.
    Pigs sees Klaus and stops in place. He flicks his raised paw but doesn’t lower it. He looks so frozen