My Worst Nightmare

The little girl grabbed the detective's hand. "Please let Dr. Dawson help you. I don't want you to die."

"I assure you I am perfectly fine, Miss Flaherty," Basil protested. "This is hardly the first time Ratigan's tried to kill me."

"At least it was the last!" Mrs. Judson exclaimed.

"Perhaps." He leaned his head back against his chair and shut his eyes. "I'm still not entirely convinced that he's dead."

"How could he be alive?!" Flaversham demanded. "He fell from Big Ben!"

"He's a mastermind. He could have found some way to survive," Basil pointed out.

Olivia continued to cling to his hand. "Thank you for saving my life, Mr. Basil."

"I had no choice. You were like the daughter I never had."

Those were his last words before he went into shock.

"I don't care how much he disapproves of my help," Dawson stated. "I'm not going to allow him to become Ratigan's murder victim! If I work quickly, there may still be time to save his life."

"Mr. Basil wouldn't rest easy in his grave if he knew Ratigan had killed him," Mrs. Judson put in. "He'll be grateful, but he'll be obliged to complain a bit to save his wounded pride."

"He won't be my first patient to do as much," the doctor replied.

Unable to bring myself to leave the window, I ignored the familiar whistle. I had to know what would become of the greatest detective in all Mousedom.

"Toby!"

I refused to move.

"Toby!"

I felt the leash clasp around my collar. Although I resisted as long as I could, Holmes started dragging me away. It's hard to refuse to move when being choked by a leash.

Suddenly I caught a familiar scent, an unusual mixture of cat fur, champagne, and cigarette smoke. The growl that began in my throat bared my fangs by the time the noise escaped my lips. I began pulling at the leash as I snarled.

"Is some nefarious scoundrel lurking about in the alley?" Holmes asked, unfastening my leash.

I hurried down the alley and found exactly who I expected.

"You look uglier than usual!" I whispered.

"They tried to eat me," Felicia replied weakly. "The royal guard dogs…" She was struggling to breathe properly.

I wasn't prepared for the wave of guilt that swept over me. I had only meant to chase her away from the mouse queen, not contribute to her death. She continued to speak, but I could only understand a few phrases.

"My own fault…didn't watch where I was going…escaped but still dying…wasted my life…wish I could undo everything…no chance to earn anyone's forgiveness…criminal…hate him…what he deserved…glad to see you a final time…might have been friends…goodbye, Toby."

I heard familiar footsteps approaching.

"What do you make of it, Watson?"

"It's merely an injured cat, Holmes. I fail to see any significance in the matter."

"Toby considers our feline acquaintance to be of utmost importance."

"Toby's a dog."

"Brilliant deduction, Watson!"

"Sarcasm does not become you, Holmes. I merely wished to emphasize that dogs frequently chase cats, and Toby's actions are hardly out of the ordinary."

"This cat intrigues me, Doctor. From her weight and the bow so adroitly balanced on the top of her head, one would assume she has been cosseted."

"I suppose she has been fed well, and she's certainly been pampered," Watson replied. "What's so unusual about…?"

"Why would devoted owners abandon their pet in an alley at this time of night? Furthermore, the scars on the pads of her paws indicate confrontations with a large rodent, perhaps on multiple occasions. You will also note how she trembles before us, as if she were apprehensive around humans, not to mention the brutal mauling she has blatantly received only recently." Holmes shook his head. "Most perplexing! I should like to have her as my guest for a few days and attempt to locate the owners. A real pity she won't survive the night!"

"She might have a chance," responded Watson. "If someone were to tend her wounds and look after her…By Jove, Holmes! Why are you looking at me in that manner?"

The investigator gingerly scooped up the dying cat.

"You can't be serious!" Watson protested. "This is merely a clever jocosity, is it not?"

"Come now. This surely must be a sign. I first observed this cat from my window, recalling that Mrs. Hudson had expressed interest in such a pet. When I noted that Toby had not yet come in for the evening, and I stepped outside to retrieve him, he also drew the cat to my attention. Indeed her situation is most bewildering."

Felicia looked like she had fallen asleep, but I knew she was still awake. Having been told her entire life that no human could ever accept her, she trembled in the presence of Holmes and Watson. I've heard that frightened cats will usually attempt to scratch, but Felicia had spent a lifetime learning the hard way that there are harsh penalties for failure to submit to authority. I almost felt sorry for her. She wasn't really evil; that was just the way Ratigan had raised her.

Holmes gently carried her inside, and Watson began tending the wounds. When he had finished, he placed Felicia on the softest cushion he could find. After the humans were asleep, I went to talk to my nemesis. She was still very weak, but she seemed to be breathing a bit easier.

"Who are they?" she asked. "What do they want?"

"What makes you think they want anything?" I responded.

"Ratigan always says…said that love is never free. Anyone who shows you any kindness wants you to do something for them in return. No one can ever love you for yourself. He explains…explained that it doesn't matter what kind of love it is; it applies to all types."

"All types?"

"Romantic love, the love between family members, the kind feelings between friends…"

"And the affection between a human and a pet?"

"Yes," she answered. "Ratigan has told me…had told me that kind of love is the most conditional of all."

"Why do you keep changing your sentences about Ratigan to past tense?"

Felicia almost giggled, but having never laughed before, she wasn't quite sure how to make the sound, so she grinned instead. I failed to understand the joke, but I was glad that she'd at least die happy.

"Do you know something I don't?" I asked.

"You're Basil's dog. You figure it out!" She rested a paw over her heart. "Oh, Ratigan! Part of you remains within me still."

"Is he dead?"

"I hope he's dead. If he's still alive, he's no doubt very uncomfortable."

"Felicia, where is he?!"

"That depends, Toby. What are your beliefs about the afterlife, or do you not believe there is one?"

"I fail to see what my beliefs have to do with anything at the moment! Where's Ratigan?"

"Is this an interrogation?" She sighed wistfully. "A real pity I won't live to see sunrise!"

I didn't disagree with her. Despite Watson's best efforts, the humans had still arrived at the conclusion that anything done for Felicia was most likely too late. It was the worst night of my life; Basil would no doubt perish before dawn while I spent the rest of the night with Ratigan's pet monster.

"How did your humans decide what to call you?" she asked. "It must have been great fun for them choosing your name." She held up a paw dramatically. "Toby or not Toby; that is the question!"

"Where's Ratigan?" I repeated.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know about him on one condition."

"Yes!" I readily agreed. "Anything to make you explain everything so I can finally get some rest!"

"Tell me something about your life first. I want to hear all about you so I can know whether or not we could have been friends."

"Now? But it's nearly midnight!" I protested.

She looked up sadly. "Do you realize how close midnight is to morning? Big Ben chimed for me tonight. My time has run out. Please, Toby. I want to know if I could have had friendship, or at least acceptance, if I had lived."

Her words softened my heart a little. "Did you never have a friend, Felicia?"

"I did once. His name was Bartholomew."

"What was he like?"

"Sweet and tender." Felicia began blinking rapidly. "He always had the best tastes in…" She started sobbing.

"Alright! Alright! Stop crying, and I'll tell you everything you want to know about me!"

"I'm sorry. It's just that he was like a brother to me. That was years ago, of course, before…You mean it?! You'll tell me your story?!"

There are probably worse things than being forced to spend the evening with a melodramatically emotional cat, but I couldn't think of any.

I sighed. "Yes, I mean it. I'll tell you about my life. Just promise that when I finish the story, you'll explain where Ratigan is."

"I promise."