1.
Autumn
In which Bolt complains,
Mittens has issues,
And Penny does her best to weather the storm
It was the end of October and there was a cat on the roof.
The cloudy skies were burning, softly; a deep red-orange as the sun sank down over the edge of the horizon and dusk crept on. The wind carried just the slightest hint of the chilly months to come, and the air smelled like a mix of well-worn dreams and seasoned sweetness.
Or at least from the top of the roof it did. Mittens rolled over, thoughtfully. Wasn't there a poem that went like that? The wind doth taste of bittersweet, like jasper wine and sugar . . . Now, how did the rest of it go? Mittens thought about it for a moment. Something about feet, she was fairly sure. She shrugged to herself. It didn't matter, really.
Mittens generally wasn't the type for reflection of that sort, but she was a cat, and given to letting her mind wander when she had nothing in particular to do. Which was often. The old shingles on top of the farmhouse were especially inviting this time of year, leaking the warmth they'd gathered up during the day long into the evening. Not to mention, the view was astounding; hills and farmland stretching out as far as the eye could see, all the more beautiful for having taken on the rich orange and brown tones that settled over everything in autumn.
The only problem with it all, in fact, was the very reason Mittens had come out to the roof in the first place, which was currently scrabbling at the window behind her and whining in pitiful earnest.
She didn't dare turn around. The scrabbling stopped, and then there was a dull, frustrated thud. After a moment or two of mopey silence, she heard his voice, soft and muffled from the other side of the glass:
"I mean it, Mittens! You have to help me out here. I look like I got eaten by a craft fair!"
The cat remained resolute, staring unwaveringly at the sunset. Behind her, the scrabbling at the glass resumed.
"Mittens, I am not okay with this!"
Mittens sighed, rolled her eyes, and gave up. It wasn't as though she could really ignore the situation for much longer anyway. She stretched, stood up, turned around, and did her absolute best to hold back a snorting laugh. She didn't quite manage it, and the resulting sound was a sort of wheezing snicker. She grinned, hopelessly.
The dog on the other side of the window returned her expression with a look of miserable impatience: Eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, the edges of his mouth turned down in a despondent doggy-frown. Unfortunately, from Mittens' perspective, this only added yet another layer of comedy to the situation and she choked out a louder guffaw. Bolt's complaint hadn't been all that far off, actually; he really did look like the victim of some sort of overly aggressive rummage sale: An ill-fitting, red knit dog sweater was pulled over his shoulders, done up with comically huge buttons. A pair of plastic reindeer antlers was tied to his head, lopsidedly, and a red foam clown nose obscured the end of his snout.
He sighed. "This isn't funny, Mittens."
"Yes," she replied, smirking. "Yes, it is. Come on, Bolt, cheer up. I swear, it's like you've got no Halloween spirit at all, you know?" She nosed the window open and joined him inside, jumping lightly from the sill to the end of Penny's bed, where he was sitting. She strolled around Bolt in a circle, admiring the dog's costume with an earnestly repressed expression of amusement. "Forget about it, I swear, there'll be people out there tonight with sillier costumes than yours – people, mind you, who actually decided to dress up like that. Nobody'll even notice you, Wags."
"But . . . but this isn't even seasonal! This holiday is supposed to be about, about ghosts and stuff. Right? So why am I dressed up like a Christmas ornament?"
Mittens tilted her head. "Nah, that's not it. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be, you know, the ghost dog. With the nose, you know? From whatever it was, that movie Rhino was watching the other day. Very appropriate. Very seasonal."
Bolt frowned, and tugged at the wool of his shirt. "I don't think he had a sweater, Mittens."
Mittens shrugged. "Well, it's gonna be chilly out tonight. And the sweater was on sale, as I understand it, which is to say there's no way you're going to escape wearing it. Look, it's only one night. Costumes and Halloween – it's just how things work."
Bolt eyed her suspiciously. "You're not wearing a costume."
Mittens stretched, languidly, and hopped to the floor. The bell on her collar jingled. "I'm an accessory, Bolt," she explained, heading for the door. "Penny's going to be a witch. What sort of costume would that be if she didn't have a black cat to follow her around, huh? Now, cheer up, you're ruining the holiday. Just think about next year. We'll get Penny to dress you up as, I dunno, Batman, maybe." The thought seemed to amuse her. "That'd be nice – then I wouldn't have to wear a costume at all again."
"What?"
"Nothing. Now, c'mon, Penny wanted to leave before it got too dark."
She strolled out the door. Bolt sat there for a moment, mouth open, trying to think of something to say back, but ultimately came up with nothing. He ran after her out the door, trotting down the hallway outside with an increasing sense of desperation. He caught up with Mittens and kept pace with her as she strode coolly onward.
"Well, at least you're not having any trouble settling in," he said. "I know you're kind of iffy with the whole 'people' thing."
Mittens bristled, slightly. "Hey, don't flatter yourself, this is still only tentative residence, alright? I was ready to pack it in the second you got Penny out of the fire. Why would I want all the complications of domesticity anyway, huh?" She spoke quickly, and her voice had turned brusquer than what Bolt was used to these days – the alleyways seeping back in, for a moment. Mittens frowned, distractedly, carefully avoiding eye contact with the dog beside her.
They started down the stairs. "But you're here now," Bolt said.
"Well, sure, yeah, because you tried to bite the hand off of every orderly that wanted to get me out of the room." Mittens glared across at Bolt, but the look wasn't nearly as sincere as she probably thought it was. Bolt snorted.
"Yeah, after you followed us all the way to the hospital."
"I – " Mittens faltered. "I only did that to make sure you were all right. I couldn't just leave something like that up to chance, could I? I mean, you came back for me, so fair's fair. Don't think it goes any farther than that. Now quit yammering, I told you I was just – "
They'd reached the bottom of the stairs. Mittens halted, mid-sentence, yelping in surprise as she was plucked up from the floor.
"There you are! I was wondering where you two had gotten off to."
Mittens had been lifted off the ground by a witch in miniature: Penny, who, like Bolt, was already outfitted in her full Halloween regalia. It was actually a fairly impressive costume, considering she'd insisted on making it herself. The black dress was the reincarnation of an old tablecloth, carefully re-cut for maximum frilly spookiness. The broom was just the broom from the store cupboard, but with a few strands strategically bent in a credibly eccentric manner.
And then, of course, there was the hat, which she had stolen from the costume department on the day she left the studio, because it was a nice hat that nobody ever used and she thought it had been a shame that it always went to waste like that. That was her explanation, at least, though whatever the reason really was it had turned out to be a handy bit of foresight all the same. She wore it at an angle, so that it swooped mysteriously across her face while still leaving enough room on the left side for her to actually see.
Penny held mittens and scratched her affectionately behind the ears. The cat endured it with as much dignity as she could, though she was quick to leap back to the ground when she was finally released. She drew up against Bolt, unconsciously hunkering down behind him.
Penny rolled her eyes. "Aw, come on, I was just trying to say hello. What sort of a witch's cat are you?"
Mittens hesitated, seeming reluctant to venture away from Bolt's shoulder, but after a moment she relented and took her place at Penny's side. The girl smiled.
"That's better. Now, let's go, I want to get an early start, okay? Come on, Bolty!"
She gently herded the animals out of the room with the end of the broom. Bolt realized that there was nothing for it – he'd tried his best, but there was no getting out of this one. He still didn't quite believe Mittens that nobody would notice him, ridiculously and unseasonably dressed as he was, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it now. He grimaced, and did his best to think optimistically. It was just for one night, after all.
What was the worst that could happen?
An hour and a half later, Penny was finally starting to relax. Slightly.
Considering the number of things that could potentially go wrong when one was wearing black on Halloween night and bringing a cadre of animals along with, things were going remarkably well. So far, the biggest surprise had been Rhino stowing away in the plastic Jack-O-Lantern that they'd been using to carry all of the candy, and even he'd managed to stay remarkably well behaved. Other than that, everyone they'd run into had been perfectly friendly, few of them that there were (trick-or-treaters were scarce out here in the boonies, after all), and all of the animals seemed to be staying in good spirits.
And, so far, only three people had asked for her autograph. Thinking about that, Penny felt at the pen behind her ear. She'd gotten used to always keeping one there, but she still couldn't help feeling a little bit annoyed on the occasions that she wound up actually needing it. She was doing her best to aim for something a bit less odious than 'former child star' when it came to defining herself, after all, and that wasn't going to be easy if people kept on recognizing her.
Well, that was just something that couldn't be helped, not at the moment anyway. Penny pushed the thought from her head, choosing to concentrate instead on the newest lantern-lit house looming up at them from out of the cloudy night. Houses like that were a welcome sight out here, considering that "next door" could mean anything from a few dozen feet to half a mile away. They were also about the only source of light, bar Penny's flashlight. The skies were dark with clouds, and the last bits of moon and starlight had been swallowed up even before it had begun.
They reached the house. As everyone marched up the porch steps, Penny noticed for the first time that the carved pumpkins and electric lights was actually the only light coming out of the house; the windows were all dark. A large, plastic bowl, likely expendable, stood to one side of the welcome mat, filled about a third of the way up with discount candy. Bolt approached the bowl and sniffed curiously at it. Mittens seemed content to keep her distance. There was a helpful note taped to the rim of the bowl inviting potential trick-or-treaters to help themselves to the candy inside.
Penny shrugged, and plucked a candy bar out of the bowl. It was inevitable, really; no Halloween was complete without at least one encounter with That House, the one with people lazy enough that they reduced the candy to a do-it-yourself task. To be fair, it was at least more honorable than the houses with the audacity to stay completely dark on Halloween night. Rhino, who was still riding inside of the plastic Jack-O-Lantern, accepted the new arrival with a dubious glare. He considered it for a moment, and then pushed it to the side in noninterest.
They all turned, and started back down the porch steps. Before everyone could march off in search of the next treat-offering house, however, a small, wet droplet splashed onto Bolt's nose. He yelped in surprise.
Penny halted, and looked up towards the sky. She held out a hand, and, sure enough, more raindrops landed on it. At her feet, Bolt gave another confused bark. Mittens drew up beside him and made a displeased, apprehensive noise as she stared up at the clouds above. Within seconds, the first few drops were joined, and the sound of rain hitting the ground grew steadily louder.
"Oh, great," Penny said, grimacing. Well, she certainly hadn't counted on that. As the rain began to fall harder, she yanked her hat farther down – for all the protection that offered – scooped Rhino and the plastic Jack-O-Lantern up in her arms, and dashed off, with Bolt and Mittens close at her heels, desperate for somewhere to get out of the rain. The house was no good; nobody was inside and the porch roof looked so worn-out and leaky that it hardly offered any protection at all. As Penny ran around the back of the house, however, a welcome sight met her.
"There's a barn around back!" she yelled, pointing. "Come on!" Penny put on an extra burst of speed, herding the animals in front of her as they ran for the open doors of the old building in front of them. Just as they reached it, there was a roar of water, and the shower turned into a downpour. They all made it inside just in time, Mittens yowling irritably as Penny shooed her through the door. The door swung loosely shut behind them, and the sound of the rain was muffled as they escaped into the welcome dryness of the barn.
It was dark inside, and the only light came from Penny's flashlight, but that was enough. The barn roof leaked, but only in a few places, and it was dry and comfortable enough that they could all sit down on the floor. Other than Penny and the animals, the barn was empty; it clearly hadn't actually been used as a barn for years. Instead, it simply stood empty, just like the one out behind Penny's own house. Well, Penny thought, at least it was coming in handy now. She swung her light around the room, examining the cobwebbed, corners, and finally letting it rest on the animals at her feet.
Mittens looked thoroughly nonplussed. Bolt was walking around in little circles, casually but persistently chasing a loose thread dangling off of his sweater. Rhino had buried himself beneath the candy, and didn't look as though he'd be moving anytime soon.
Penny sighed. Well, it certainly wasn't the worst that could have happened, but it certainly put them all at a disadvantage. For one thing, they were stuck in the barn without an umbrella, and it seemed highly unlikely to Penny that there would be one in there. Then again, they couldn't just sit out the storm. For all Penny knew, it might last all night, and her mother was probably already worried sick just because of the rain alone.
While she wondered about what to do, Penny noticed that Bolt had wandered back over to the doors, nosing cautiously at the rain outside. When he saw Penny watching him, he trotted over to her, looking back towards the door plaintively. He whined, quietly.
Well, that was about typical. Penny scratched Bolt behind the ears.
"Yeah, I get it," she said. "We're stuck here without an umbrella, but I guess you kind of figured that out, huh?"
Bolt barked, happily. She should have known the chance to be heroic would have cheered him up. Mittens looked apprehensive; somehow, Penny got the distinct feeling that, in one way or another, the cat was hardly unfamiliar to this sort of situation either.
"Alright," Penny said, turning her attention back to Bolt. "If you really think you can do it, I need you to run back home, grab an umbrella, and come back here with it as fast as you can." She picked up Mittens, got to her feet, and pushed the barn door open far enough that Bolt could get outside. "Be careful, okay Bolt? We'll be waiting here for you."
Bolt barked, again, dutifully, and then he turned and bounded out into the rain. The moment he left, Mittens jumped out of Penny's arms and tried to run after him, but halted the when she reached the doors. The pouring rain outside stopped her, and she glared at it with a look of pronounced frustration.
After a while, Mittens turned around and offered Penny the same expression. Penny shrugged, defensively.
"What?" she said. "I wasn't about to try and stop him. You know what he's like."
The cat looked down. Penny thought about what she'd just said and laughed, lightly. "Do you know what he's like?" she wondered, absently. She took off her hat and scratched her head, looking at Mittens curiously. She realized, somewhat belatedly, just how little she actually knew about the cat.
Penny sat down, still watching Mittens. She voiced her thoughts. "I mean, something must have happened to make him defend you like he did back at the hospital. I'm actually kind of jealous, really. I mean, you probably know all about what happened when he ran off. I know I'll never be able to figure that one out."
Mittens gave her an unreadable look, and then turned back to the storm outside, looking worried.
"Oh, come on," Penny protested, rolling her eyes. "He'll be fine. I don't think Bolt would ever let a little rain stop him. Now come back over here, you'll get cold standing in the door like that."
It was enough to make Mittens look back around. Penny crossed the distance between them and picked her up. The cat resisted, again, but Penny held on resolutely.
"Oh, come on, you can't just spend all your time hanging onto Bolt's shoulder. I know the feeling, but sooner or later you've gotta realize that there are other people in the house that are perfectly willing to pay attention to you, mysterious origins or not."
Mittens made a noise that might have constituted a reluctant agreement.
"Exactly," Penny said. She sat on the floor of the barn, and set Mittens down gently across from her. She patted the cat affectionately on the head. "Now, if we're gonna bond, I don't see why a night stuck in a barn in the rain shouldn't be the perfect time for it."
Mittens meowed.
Penny smiled, warmly. "That's the spirit," she said, "I suppose that's as good a place to start as any."
The rain was significantly wetter than Bolt had been expecting, though now that he thought about it the dog realized he wasn't entirely sure what it was he had been expecting in the first place. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he fervently hoped that at least the rain might ruin his sweater enough that he'd never have to wear the scratchy, ugly thing ever again.
As he thought about it, Bolt suddenly realized that there was a new, unfamiliar weight in his collar that hadn't been there before. He stopped, skidding to a muddy halt in the middle of the rain, poking at whatever was inside of his collar. He started in surprise as Rhino burst forth, spluttering.
"Aha!" the hamster shouted, triumphantly. "So that's where the exit was. Well, I guess we know the score now, sweater: Rhino, one. Nefarious wooly garment, zero." Rhino cackled, and then settled back into the sweater's collar with his head sticking out, sheltered from the rain underneath Bolt's chin.
Bolt sighed. "Rhino? What are you doing here? You were supposed to stay back at the barn."
"Don't be ridiculous," Rhino said. "This is a dangerous mission. You'll need backup! I grabbed onto your sweater when you left the barn, so that I could help."
Bolt started moving again, trotting on through the rain. "Alright," he sighed, "But I don't think this is going to be very complicated. All we have to do is find an umbrella and then get back to the barn."
"Of course! A retrieval mission." The hamster looked thoughtful. "Stealth will be required, naturally."
"Not really," Bolt replied. He kept his attention on the road ahead, watching out for the familiar lights of Penny's house. "And besides," he continued, "I don't think stealth would really even be possible the way I'm dressed right now."
"Ah, we'd make it work." Rhino said. "I've seen dogs who looked way weirder than you do right now."
"I'll bet you have, Rhino." Bolt squinted. Was that the house? No, no, it wasn't. It was just so hard to see anything through the rain like this.
"I mean it. I saw a green dog once."
"That's . . . that's nice, Rhino."
"No, seriously!" The hamster was resolute. "He was green, and he had a zipper. And he kept screaming about Mexican food, or something. I mean, compared to that, you're practically invisible, right?"
Bolt kept running. "Yeah, probably. I guess I appreciate the thought, at least. Now, keep your eyes out for Penny's house, okay? I'm pretty sure we're getting close, but everything looks the same out here and it would help to have somebody else keeping watch."
"Absolutely!" Rhino saluted, and leaned forward intently, eyes focused on the muddy road ahead.
Thankful for the momentary respite, Bolt turned his attention back to the task at hand. The rain was coming down even harder, now, and he could barely see. Bolt wondered if he'd made a good decision; this rain wasn't like anything he'd ever been through before. He was still getting used to the fact that studio special effects and the real world were entirely different things, after all, and more often than not that resulted in him not entirely thinking things through.
Well, he thought, he was here now. Out in the rain, whether he liked it or not. Mission: Umbrella.
Bolt wondered, for more than a moment, just how well Mittens was coping stuck alone in a room with Penny. After considering the notion for a while, he shuddered, and wondered if maybe the storm was preferable after all.
" . . . So anyway, that's how I wound up joining Sovereign Entertainment in the first place. It's ridiculous, right?" Penny watched the cat sitting across from her hopefully.
Mittens' expression remained blank.
Penny sighed. " . . . Though I guess not quite as ridiculous as unloading my life story onto a cat." She leaned her head on her hand and stared at Mittens. "So what's your story, then, huh?"
Mittens made an annoyed sound, and rolled onto her side, suddenly fascinated by a dust bunny on the floor next to her.
"Yeah, I figured it would be something like that," Penny said, looking away. "Honestly, though, it really would be nice to know what your story actually is. I mean, obviously you and Bolt went through something together. And the vet said you'd already been declawed, so you can't have been a stray all your life, right?"
That seemed to have an effect. Mittens froze, suddenly, at Penny's words. She was still lying on the ground, but now instead of radiating genuine noninterest she was holding perfectly still, looking for all the world like she was trying very deliberately to look uninterested. It wasn't quite working. Penny leaned forward, watching the cat and doing her best to try and understand her. It wasn't like Mittens was offering a whole lot of hints, after all.
Not deliberately, anyway.
Mittens, meanwhile, was still very pointedly not moving. Penny reached out experimentally, but the cat bristled and squirmed away from her. She retreated back a few feet, then sat up again and offered Penny an impatient cat-glare. Penny sighed. She'd have to try another approach, it seemed. Very, very carefully, Penny scooted forward, trying to close the gap between Mittens and herself as gently as possible. She watched the cat, carefully, doing her best to try and read what her eyes were saying.
Well, it wasn't that hard. A declawed stray cat who didn't trust humans. You didn't have to be a genius to figure that one out.
"Something happened, didn't it?" Penny asked, finally. "With whoever you used to live with, I mean."
There was a change in Mittens' eyes. Not much, but enough. Penny leaned back, a sympathetic expression on her face, and she could tell, somehow, that the cat had realized her slip. Mittens scowled, and turned to try and retreat even farther into the darker corners of the barn. Penny stopped her, reaching out and putting her hand on the cat's back as gently as she could manage. She could feel the cat tensing, nervously, but she did her best to stay resolute all the same. Mittens looked at her, accusingly.
"Oh, come on," Penny said. "How do you think I knew? I'm not stupid, you know. Declawed cats don't just decide to become strays. It's not hard to figure out. Now calm down, okay? You can't go lumping humans together just because some crowd of morons didn't appreciate you for what you were. I just want to be your friend."
Mittens hesitated, and then, slowly, very slowly, she began to relax under Penny's hand, if only slightly. Penny smiled.
"That's better," she said, gently picking Mittens up and setting her down in her lap. The cat didn't resist, this time. Penny stroked her gently between the ears.
"Now, look," Penny said. "I don't know what happened to you, and obviously I never will. But that doesn't matter, alright? What does matter is that you clearly mean something to Bolt, and I can tell that he means something to you. I wish I could know what happened when he left, but I can't. But that doesn't matter either, because whatever it was I know you must have been part of how he managed to get back. And I can't say for certain, but I have a feeling that you might even have been part of why he came back." She paused, and looked at Mittens sincerely. " . . . And I'll always be grateful to you for that."
Mittens remained quiet. She made no sound, instead, she simply curled up tighter, silently trying to burrow deeper into the girl's lap. Penny obliged her.
"There, see?" Penny said. "It's not that hard. It's okay if Bolt is the most important part of it to you, but we're all a big family now, alright? I just want you to understand that. You'll always have a home with us. I promise you we'll never leave."
For the longest time, the cat in her lap didn't make the slightest noise.
Penny sat in silence, and then sighed heavily.
" . . . And here I am trying to give emotional counseling to a cat," she said, rolling her eyes. "Hollywood messed me up good, I can tell."
Her tone was lost on Mittens, however. Something about the cat's countenance had changed at the mention of the word home, but she'd stayed quiet nevertheless. Now, though, while Penny laughed to herself about her predicament, Mittens finally let herself melt completely into the girl's arms, and with what seemed almost like a sigh of relief, began to purr.
It was a quiet, gentle noise, but it was enough.
Penny relaxed, happily, content that she'd finally managed to do something right by the cat.
For the longest time Mittens' purring was the only sound in the dark barn, and Penny simply sat there, stroking the cat fondly. Half an hour later, just as Penny's foot was starting to fall asleep, there was the sound of old, rusty hinges swinging open, and the noise from the rain outside grew louder. Penny looked over to the barns doors, which stood open once again, and shone her flashlight on the newcomer.
Bolt stood in the doorway, thoroughly soaked, with a puddle and a hamster dripping off of his sweater. His false nose was gone, and one of the antlers was lopsided, but other than a great deal of mud Bolt himself was safe and sound. He trotted through the door and, with a triumphant look on his face, dropped the umbrella he was holding in his mouth at Penny's feet.
The sound it made when it hit the floor was the second-best thing she'd heard all night.
Much later, home and dry again, they all stood on the porch and watched the rain as it continued to fall. Penny had changed back to her normal clothes, and Bolt, even more happily, was at last free of his ugly, unseasonal sweater. He stood at the edge of the porch, nose in the rain, cheerfully letting the water splash across his face. Penny stood behind him, with Mittens dangling happily from her arms.
Bolt turned away from the rain for a moment, and watched the two of them, curiously.
"You look awfully comfortable for 'tentative residence,' he said, glancing at Mittens with a smile.
"Tentative?" Mittens replied, through a blissful, sleepy expression. "Who said tentative? You're stuck with me, Wags, whether you like it or not. You all are."
Bolt turned back to the rain, happily. "I think I can live with that."
They all stood there quietly, then, watching the rain, and feeling safe and complete. Admittedly, when the lightning started, they let themselves be frightened, but only for a moment before they went back inside where it was dry and warm. It seemed appropriate, really; it was just the sort of night that needed a healthy scare or two.
It was Halloween, after all.
