MOMMA MIA
by ardavenport
- - - Part 6
They rolled up to an average house with a neat yard, in an average tree-lined residential neighborhood. When they knocked on the door and called out, a woman's voice answered for them to come in. A black and white cat darted out as soon as Roy pushed it open.
"Oh, be careful! Don't let him out!"
They both turned to look. The cat hadn't gone far, but it was well out of reach, indecisively twitching it's tail as if it was baiting them to try to catch it. They turned back to the house. Roy and Johnny grimaced to each other from the smell of too many cats living in one house. Way too many cats. The house seemed neat enough, except for all the cat hair on the carpets and the furniture. And the litter box visible under the curving legs of a mahogany table in the back of the front hallway.
The victim was in the living room, a phone on the floor next to her. They introduced themselves to a very nice woman in her early sixties; her name was Sarah Pierpont. She had tripped on one of her cats, fallen and hurt her leg.
"Oh, he really didn't mean it. I just startled poor Thurber, that's all."
Looking around, Johnny could not tell which cat might have been the culprit. There were two tabbies on the sofa. A yowling Siamese on the mantlepiece. A long-haired gray cat, body low and compact on the gold seat cushion of an antique wooden chair, watched them with wide, intense yellow eyes. Three more cats darted around the room. Two sat on the window sill, looking out at the street. And from the meowing they could hear from the hallway there were clearly more of them in the rest of the house.
Sarah half-sat up next to the sofa and they asked where she was hurt. She had caught her leg on the coffee table and twisted it, but the rest of her had fallen on the edge of the sofa cushions. Roy examined her thin legs. Her left calf was swollen and extremely painful for her to move in any way.
"I'm afraid that looks like it's broken."
Johnny got up and headed for the door. "I'll get the leg splint."
"Oh, it couldn't be broken, could it? I've never had a broken leg." Sarah patted the flowered hem of her dress down over her knees.
"Yes, Ma'an, I'm afraid it is." Roy got up to carefully step over her legs - - and a cat - - to get to the phone to call for an ambulance.
By the door, Johnny used his feet to shove three cats determined to escape, but when he opened the it part way, the same black and white cat that had gotten out when they came in was there waiting.
"Well, come on."
Green eyes wide, the cat on the front step looked up at him while he blocked the other three with his legs.
"Come on." Johnny moved his body in between the doorframe and the door.
The cat outside sat down and licked its lips.
"Okay, have it your way."
He slid out, closed the door without catching any kitty paws and then ran to the squad, enjoying the fresh air while he could. But when he got back, the black and white cat sat right on the threshold, meowing to be let in.
"Will you make up your mind?"
Johnny used the leg splint to keep the other cats from coming out while he let the outside cat in. Then he slid in and closed the door. The smell made the otherwise ordinary front hall feel like a cave. Drug box open, Roy was on the phone to the hospital when he got back. Sarah's vital signs were good and no other injuries.
"Immobilize the leg and transport as soon as possible." Roy confirmed that the ETA on the ambulance was ten minutes, signed off with Rampart and hung up the phone.
"Now I'm going to put this on you to keep your leg straight while we take you to the hospital." Johnny reached for the tape and began easing the cardboard splint under her leg.
A black cat nuzzled Sarah for attention and she scratched its ears while she fretted. "Oh dear. A hospital. Are you sure that's necessary? It isn't just a sprain?"
Roy nodded his assurance to her. "I'm afraid the doctors are going to have to take x-rays and put a cast on it at the hospital."
"Oh, well. I suppose so." Next to her, the black cat purred loudly.
"Hey, cut that out!" Johnny curtly swatted back the white Persian that had started batting at the tape he closed the splint with.
"Oh, Blissy, you naughty boy, stop that!"
Blissy, feathery white tail held high, gave him a dirty look and backed off.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Sarah? Sarah?"
A middle-aged blond woman in a slim lime green dress peeked into the living room. Then another, shorter heavier woman with graying hair.
"Sarah? We saw the fire truck outside - - oh!"
"Oh, Margaret, Norma. I didn't want to worry you."
The two newcomers came in, edging around the cats. A couple of them meowed for attention. One of the tabbies thumped down off the couch to hurry over to them.
"You should have called." The first woman, apparently Margaret, clasped her hands together while a tortoise-shell cat hopped up on the coffee table and meowed for attention.
"Oh, well I tried, but there was no answer. But these two young men came right away."
"I was in the yard; I must not have heard the phone."
"I was shopping." The second, stouter woman, Norma, stooped to stroke Blissy. "Is it serious?"
"Uh, it's not too serious, Ma'am." Roy nudged a smaller Siamese away. The larger one on the mantlepiece yowled. "But her leg looks like it's broken and we're taking her to the hospital to have it looked at. Are you two relatives?"
"Oh, no, we're just neighbors. Sarah, doesn't your sister live in Santa Barbara?" The taller woman looked uncertain.
"Yes. I suppose I'll have to call." Sarah put a thin, wrinkled and heavily veined hand to her mouth. "Oh, dear, do you think you could take care of my cats. Just for a little while?" One of the cats on the window sill jumped down to the floor. "I just put out fresh food and water this morning and I emptied their boxes. They shouldn't be a bother."
"Oh, of course, dear!" Margaret clasped her hands together while the older woman joined in the assurances.
"Of course." Norma bent to stroke Blissy. "We'll take good care of you while your mommy's away." She made kissy noises at the inquisitive cat.
Johnny finished with the splint. "Uh, Ma'am, how many cats do you have?" There were more than a dozen that he could see in the front room alone.
"Oh, well. I just got Leo last month and there is Vivi's new litter. . . . . forty-seven."
"Forty-seven? Cats?" Johnny barely spoke the words. But Sarah seemed oblivious to his expression of shock.
"Oh, yes, they're just like my little children." Sarah beamed down at the small gray and white Siamese butting its head forward next to the black cat to be scratched.
"Well, ah. . . ." Roy rubbed his neck as he watched a white short-hair cat with tan spots that he hadn't seen before picking its way down the back of the sofa, "how are we going to keep them from getting out when the ambulance crew comes in?"
Still on one knee next to Sarah's immobilized leg Johnny turned his body one way, then the other. "Can we put them in the back of the house? Just until we leave?"
Sarah fretted. "Oh, these are my front room cats. They don't always get along with the ones in back. Oooh," she scratched the little Siamese.
"We could put them all in the front bedroom. Just for a little while." Margaret scooped up the cat on the coffee table. Norma picked up Blissy and they both bustled out of the room.
"Here, Johnny, why don't you give them a hand."
He looked startled by his partner's suggestion. "Me? Ahh. . . . " He gave Sarah a halting smile. "Sure. I . . . guess." Standing, he looked around for a cat the grab. They all seemed to know what he was thinking and trotted out of reach. But the long-haired gray one primly watching him from the chair, imperiously didn't seem to think he could move it until he picked it up.
"Oh he's such a nice man."
Roy agreed with Sarah. "Yes, Ma'am, he is." Johnny caught a hint of a grin on Roy's face as he left to follow the two women.
Johnny went into the hall past the litter box. Norma stood by an open door into a bedroom. All the other doors in the hallway were closed.
"Here I'll take him." She took the cat and passed it into the bedroom where Margaret was. "Now, if you just collect them, we'll just get them all in here."
Nodding, Johnny went back to the living room. He tried to grab two, but the cats had other ideas. One of the tabbies on the sofa was too lazy to escape him and he took it to Norma. Returning to the living room, he went for the other tabby, which sat, tail twitching, on the coffee table. It leapt down and away just before he got to it. Then he nearly tripped on another cat running past his ankles. He steadied the delicate end table he almost knocked over and gave Sarah a nervous smile.
"They just want to play." She beamed at her 'children.'
"Yes, Ma'am." Roy patted her shoulder and got up. "I'll just give them a hand."
Annoyed with his partner's too amused expression, Johnny still accepted his help. They collected cats and took them to Norma and Margaret. Four. Five. Six. The big Siamese tried to squirm away, but Johnny handed him to Norma without getting scratched. Seven. Eight. Nine. Sarah called out encouragement to her pets, trying to help with rounding them up. Ten. Eleven, Twelve. After the sixteenth cat, Johnny heard the ambulance siren outside. There are still two that wouldn't come out from under the couch; it didn't look like they would rush out the front door.
Roy went to the door to let in two ambulance attendants they knew, Hal and Sam. Both men looked taken aback by the smell in the house, but professionally said nothing about it. They helped load Sarah onto the stretcher while Margaret retrieved her purse and her small phone/address book to take with her to the hospital. Norma promised to drive to Rampart to see her.
Sarah thanked them and waved good-bye as Sam and Hal loaded her into the ambulance. Roy and Johnny got back in the squad. Roy started the engine.
"Forty-seven cats. How does anyone put up with forty-seven cats?" Johnny looked back at the house as Roy drove away.
"I don't know. But she's got the neighbors to help her with them."
"Yeah. But forty-seven cats . . . "
Roy shrugged and glanced down at the clip boards on the seat between them. "We can get to this last inspection before they close."
"Yeah, might as well." Johnny picked up the radio mic and told dispatch that they were available, on their last inspection.
They drove up to the Hair Crazy beauty salon after four-thirty. It was still open, but with only a few customers under the hair dryers. The manager/owner Harriet 'Hair' Kenner, a heavyset middle-aged woman in a blue and white muumuu and expertly smoothed and styled black hair piled on her head, greeted them warmly enough. Roy took the front, Johnny the back while the women under the hair dryers warily watched and whispered to the beauticians.
Everything was electric, so there was no gas to check. They found plenty of electrical outlets with not too many things plugged into each. The fuse box in back was correctly marked. Some of the wall paint was fresh and Mrs. Kenner proudly bragged about the work her brother-in-law had just finished for her, at cost.
The first trouble sign came when Roy asked her about the recent electrical work being inspected. Mrs. Kenner gave him a blank stare. Roy politely explained about the need for a city inspection. Then Johnny opened a utility closet in back.
"Uh, Roy!"
Roy made his way past the padded chairs, lighted mirrors and counters of bottles, combs, brushes and scissors. A couple of beauticians followed him with their eyes as they cleaned up for the end of the day. The aroma of beauty products was thicker in the back of the shop. Johnny held a utility room door open in a rear alcove area next to shelves stacked with supplies, a restroom and a back door.
He looked in the closet-sized room. There were brooms, a mop, brushes, boards, plywood, a big jar of nails, coils of wire, some power tools, paint cans, a bin of rags, paint thinner, some floor cleaner and wax, a big wad of canvas, paint-spattered drop cloth. All crammed in next to the water heater. The only wonder now was that Hair Crazy hadn't burst into flames already.
Johnny spoke sternly and pointed. "Ma'am you can't keep this stuff in here."
"Oh, it's just temporary. Roderick is going to pick it up next week."
"No, Ma'am, you have to move it now. It's a fire hazard." But Mrs. Kenner did not seem to understand the urgency of the problem.
"But he's coming to get it next week!" Mrs. Kenner grew increasingly frazzled that this just wasn't good enough. She finally bustled to the front desk to telephone her brother-in-law while they cleared a wide space around the water heater. She would have three days to comply with their citation while they put the worst flammables on a half-empty lower shelf. They could hear Mrs. Kenner's excited tones, though not the words, exchanged with her brother-in-law.
She seemed a bit calmer when they returned to the front of the shop though the beauticians gave them dirty looks. The customers had gone. Mrs Kenner's brother-in-law was coming over right away to take his things. And bring over the inspection form. She only unhappily huffed over the citation. She locked the door behind them.
- - - End Part 6