The Black Cat & The White Dog (one evil, one good)

By Joefan1

The creature materialized a short distance from the ranch house, sniffed the air, and smiled. He was in the right place, and he had made it in plenty of time. A few moments later, a second creature appeared not far from the first and scowled. The other had already arrived.

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Joseph Cartwright cocked his head slightly to the right and listened intently—nothing. He resumed walking towards the barn.

“Meoow,” The cry came again, louder and more plaintive. He stopped and waited, listening. A third cry reached his ears. ‘It’s behind the bunkhouse,’ he thought and strode off in search of it.

“Well, you’ve gone and got yourself tangled up good,” he uttered as he peered into a thick bramble bush. “Need some help?”

“Mew”

He reached in and began gently separating the soft black fur from the twigs and sharp thorns. Several ouches and dangs later, the cat strutted out of the brush and rubbed against his leg.

“Meow.”

“You’re welcome.” He laughed and gazed down at the creature. The black cat looked up at him with a mesmerizing stare. ‘What strange eyes,’ Joe thought, staring into their yellow depths. ‘I could easily lose myself in them.’ 

“Joseph.”

“Huh?” Joe mumbled, breaking eye contact with the creature. 

“Joseph,” Ben bellowed a second time. 

“Be right there, Pa,” he shouted and hot-footed it to the barn. Stopping just inside the door, he looked around and then glanced questioningly at his father. “When did you get the dog?” 

“What dog?” 

“That one.” He pointed towards the back of the barn.

Ben turned and frowned at the large white dog but immediately redirected his attention as the animal trotted up to Joe and rubbed against his leg.

“What is that animal doing in the barn?” 

` “Maybe it’s one of Hoss’ strays,” Joe suggested, and reaching down, he scratched the animal between its ears. Straight away, his head jerked up, and a faraway look appeared in his eyes. “Did you say something, Pa?”

“No”

“Are you sure? I thought I heard someone whispering to me. But I couldn’t make out what you were saying.”

Ben regarded his son closely, a concerned look on his face.

“No, Joseph, I didn’t say anything. Are you feeling all right? You sound…” He fell silent and promptly turned towards the door as a low, menacing hiss reached his ears. His eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed together. Not ten feet away, a large black cat, back arched, stood hissing at the dog. 

“Now where did that creature come from?”

Joe grimaced.

“It was caught in the bramble bushes behind the bunkhouse. It must have followed me.” 

A wry smile crossed Ben’s face. “Take it back to where you found it.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Joe removed his jacket and slowly approached the agitated cat. Speaking in a soft, gentle voice, he wrapped his jacket around the animal and picked it up. It began to purr. Immediately, a strange lethargy came over him. Stroking the cat’s soft, black fur, he strolled, mindlessly, to the back of the bunkhouse. He stood there, stroking the cat’s fur and staring into the distance. 

“Joe!”

As the sound of Hoss’ bellowing penetrated his awareness, Joe started. He shook his head and set the cat on the ground.

“Back here, behind the bunkhouse,” he called out.

“What are you doing back here, Little Brother?”

“Pa told me to bring the cat back here.”

“Cat, what cat? There’s no cat here.” 

“That… it was right there.” Joe’s eyes quickly searched the area, but there was no sign of the animal. “Now, where could it have gone?” he mumbled to himself. “Hoss, are you sure you didn’t see a black cat back here?”

“No, I didn’t see no black cat, and I didn’t see Pa’s white dog in the barn either. C’mon and help me unload the supplies.”

‘It’s like it just vanished,’ Joe thought. 

As he headed towards the wagon, thoughts of the cat vanished as quickly as the animal itself had. He had far more interesting things to think about.

“Hoss, did I tell you that Bridget O’Connor is having a Halloween party?”

“Hallowe’en, what’s that?”

“I think it’s some kind of Irish holiday. She wants us to dress up as something scary.”

Hoss’ eyes twinkled. “Gee Joe, I know the perfect costume for you,” he chuckled. “Just go dressed as yourself.”

“Very funny.”

Ignoring Hoss’ belly laugh, Joe picked up a bag of grain and carried it into the barn. Just inside the door, he stopped abruptly. There at the back of the barn sat the white dog. 

“I thought big brother said you were gone.”

“What was that, Joe?.”

“I said, I thought you said the dog was gone.”

“What dog?” Hoss inquired.

“That dog,” Joe said, looking towards the back of the barn. His eyes widened. The dog was no longer there. 

“Let me guess, it’s disappeared just like the cat. It’s not funny, Little Brother,” Hoss griped as he returned to the wagon.

“That’s just plain spooky,” Joe muttered to himself.

“You gonna help me unload that wagon or what?” Hoss demanded as he brought a case of nails into the barn. 

“Yes, I was just making sure the dog wasn’t here somewhere.”

Hoss rolled his eyes. “Stop kidding around,” he grumbled and stomped out to the wagon. 

Joe frowned and followed him out, all the while looking for the dog, but there was no sign of it. Like the cat, it had vanished. 

Later that day, as they sat down to supper, the subject of Hallowe’en came up again. 

“Hop Sing, were you able to get that face paint?” Joe asked as the cook/housekeeper set a succulent roast in front of Ben.

“Number Three Cousin bring paint you want. I put in room.”

“Thanks, Hop Sing.”

Hop Sing nodded and returned to his kitchen. 

“What’s this about paint?” Ben queried.

“It’s part of my costume for Bridget’s party.”

“Costume, what kind of party is this, Joseph?” “Bridget  called it a Hallowe’en party. I think that’s some kind of Irish holiday.”

“Yes, it is. The name is a shortening of All Hallow’s Eve, which is the evening before All Hallow’s Day or All Saints’ Day.” 

“You know about Hallowe’en, Pa? Do you know why we’re supposed to dress up as something scary?”  

“I’m not sure about that, but I believe it has something to do with ancient times when they believed that evil spirits could cross over on All Hallow’s Eve. They would dress up to ward off these evil spirits. Of course, now it’s just a holiday, a reason to celebrate.” Ben explained and then turned his attention to carving the roast.

Later that evening, Joe, taking the stairs two at a time, hustled up to his room. He stopped at his night table, and picked up the jar of face paint Hop Sing had left. Unscrewing the lid, he inspected the contents, tentatively dipping a finger into it. 

“Hop Sing, are you sure this stuff will come off?”

“Number Three Cousin say it come off easy.”

Joe shrugged. ‘Hop Sing’s cousin better be right,’ he thought and liberally painted his face, hands, and arms with the concoction. He took a quick peek in the mirror, grinned, and headed for the stairs.

He stopped on the landing, and an impish grin crossed his face. Noiselessly, he slipped down the stairs, crept across the room, and stood in front of his father. “Pa?” he whispered. 

Ben looked up and all but jumped out of his chair. “Joseph Francis Cartwright, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“What’d you think, Pa? Do I look like someone who just crawled out of a grave?”

“Definitely,” Ben assured him. Then, eyeing his youngest son speculatively, he added sternly, “I trust I’m not going to get any complaints about you frightening half the town to death with that costume.”

“No, sir, no complaints.”

Ben nodded. “Oh, and Joseph.” 

“Yes sir?”

“Have a good time, son.”

“Looks like the party’s already started, Cooch,” Joe remarked, leading the paint over to the small corral.  He turned his friend out with the other mounts and headed up to the house. As he reached the stoop, he paused, his eyes alight with mischief. Quietly, he climbed the stairs and slipped inside the house. Then, staring straight ahead, eyes unfocussed, he shuffled across the room, grunting and groaning. Instantly, everyone went still and quiet. Seconds later, a scream echoed around the room, followed by a cacophony of screeches and squeals, most of them fake. 

“Joseph Cartwright,” one of the girls shouted, pretending to be outraged.

Joe feigned remorse and apologized profusely. Then, winking at the girls, he went back into his act, shambling across the room towards Bridget and his friends.    

While guests at the O’Connor house enjoyed themselves, the clock raced forward and was soon closing in on a new day. The party was ending, and most of the guests had left. 

Joe, in an attempt to steal a good night kiss, had maneuvered Bridget into a dark corner of the stoop. “It was a great party,” he enthused as he moved a bit closer. “And the food was delicious, Mrs. O’Connor,” he quickly added, putting space between himself and the girl. 

“Thank you, young man,” the older woman replied, ushering her daughter back into the house. At the door, she turned back. “I think your friends are trying to get your attention, Joseph.” 

Joe turned. Mitch and Seth were waving frantically at him. 

“I thought you two left ten minutes ago.”

“We did, but we saw your brothers standing outside the Golden Palace. They were daring each other to walk through the graveyard on the stroke of midnight. We thought you might like to know.” 

Mitch and Seth watched gleefully as a calculating look that meant no good for his brothers crossed Joe’s face. 

“The graveyard?” the two boys asked in unison.

“Where else?”

Mitch and Seth grinned at each other and left.

Shortly before midnight, Joe stood at the entrance to the cemetery, staring into the darkness. He hadn’t expected it to look so sinister. He considered turning around and going home, but that would mean backing down in front of Mitch and Seth. So, taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and entered the graveyard. Slowly, cautiously, he moved amongst the headstones. Suddenly, a loud screech rent the air. He halted and, breathing heavily, checked out every corner. A few moments later, he let out a sigh of relief. “Just a dumb owl,” he berated himself and continued inching his way through the graveyard. 

Creeping along, alert and on edge, he passed an old, upended headstone. As he did so, an eerie feeling coursed through his body, and his eyes shot back to the marker. He peered into the shadows enveloping the gravestone, and without warning, two bright eyes stared back at him. He stood, spellbound, staring into the large yellow orbs and felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into their depths. Then slowly, unconsciously, he began to move towards the eyes. He edged closer and closer and was almost upon the creature when a deep, ferocious growl jolted him out of his stupor. He quickly backed away from the hypnotic eyes and turned towards the dog. His mouth dropped open. The dog had blood-red eyes and huge, jagged teeth, and it was snarling at him, not the cat. Panicking, he started to draw back from the terrifying creature but was stopped by a loud hiss emanating from behind him. Slowly he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes grew enormous, and his heart hammered against his ribs. Directly behind him, a huge pit had opened up. He quickly changed direction, edging away from the immense chasm. The nightmarish hound immediately bared its teeth and began to close in on him.

` “Yowl!” The piercing cry resonated through the air as the black cat leapt over the abyss onto the dog. Joe watched transfixed as the much smaller cat attacked the malevolent beast and forced it into the grave. He stared, disbelieving, as the pit slowly filled with soil and disappeared before his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, too stunned to think of anything else to say.

“You’re welcome,” the cat replied in a gentle, reassuring voice. Then, just as Joe’s friends entered the graveyard, it strolled off, taking with it all Joe’s memories of the evening’s misadventures.

“Psst, Cartwright,” Mitch whispered.

“Are they coming?” Joe asked.

Mitch and Seth grinned and nodded. 

On the stroke of midnight, Joe Cartwright was scaring the living daylights out of his brothers while a large black cat was transforming itself into a glowing white form with large iridescent wings. Slowly, it ascended into the heavens.

“Thanks, Johnathon,” the young, blond-haired woman told the angel.

  “You’re welcome, Marie,” he replied. 

The End