The Cat Who Had 60 Whiskers

“Uncle Louie’s wife. Hannah. She’s a wonderful woman and does what needs to be done. She can accompany the chorus or even direct the show, and yet she’ll sweep the stage if necessary, or make sandwiches for the cast. It’s amazing what the McLeods have done with the orphan they adopted.”

“So is Frankie doing all right?”

“It appears so.”

He asked, “Do you think he would make a good interview on piano tuning? I could kill a couple of birds with one stone and do chauffeur service for a rehearsal.”

“I know. This is what we’ve worked out. We could drop off Frankie at the barn, and you could drive him back to the theater at seven-thirty. You could give him a bite to eat; he isn’t fussy, and he’d love to see the barn and meet the cats. I know the barn doesn’t have a piano, but Frankie has one of those roll-up keyboards!”

Qwilleran agreed. “You’re an expert coordinator, Daisy.”

He had decided against doing a Qwill Pen column on piano tuning. It was another no-story.

When one of the Linguini brothers (Mungojerrie, not Rumpleteazer) arrived at the barn, Frankie jumped out the passenger side, gazing in rapture at the lofty barn and saying, “Oh, wow! Oh, wow!”

Qwilleran realized high praise when he heard it.

Koko and Yum Yum were cavorting in the kitchen window as they always did when a vehicle arrived, and—as first-time visitors always did—Frankie asked, “Are these your cats?”

Qwilleran always felt like saying, “No, these are a pair of pet crocodiles.” But he said amiably, “Yes, this is Koko and Yum Yum.”

Both Qwilleran and the Siamese found Frankie a likable guest. The Siamese followed him around and put on their flying-squirrel act from the top balcony to entertain him.

The Siamese were fascinated by the “thing” strapped to his back, somewhat like a blanket roll but actually a four-octave electronic piano. (Later, when they heard it, though, they went and hid.)

“Do you come from a musical family?” Qwilleran asked.

“My dad raises horses, but my mother is a piano teacher, and I have an uncle who’s a piano tuner.”

“Did he teach you about felts and hammers?” He was enjoying a private joke.

“He taught me everything,” Frankie said seriously.

That explained everything except his inability to drive, and his friendship with Libby Simms had taken care of that.

Locals in both counties had said, “They’re a darling couple. Do you think they’ll marry? It’s a touching romance.” And then there was the incident of the bee sting.

Now Qwilleran was about to show Frankie the premises.

“First we must order our dinner,” Qwilleran said, handing his guest a menu card. “Order anything you like and it’ll be delivered in fifteen minutes. I’m having ham and sweet potatoes with asparagus spears…a cheese muffin…apple-and-walnut salad…and chocolate cake. I have my own coffee machine.”

“I’ll have the same,” Frankie said.

“While we’re waiting, Koko will show you their apartment on the third level. They have a twistletwig rocking chair that you might try sitting in; it’s an experience.”

Apparently the three of them were “communicating,” because Frankie had to be called down for dinner. It was served in the screened gazebo, and that was another experience, since small animals came up to the screen and communed silently with the Siamese.

Frankie said, “Libby would have loved this. Did you ever meet her?”

“Yes. Charming young woman.”

Two tears rolled down the young man’s face. “Now my life’s ruined. Libby and I…we were gonna get married and travel around on concert tours. But she went out to the garden without the kit the doctor gave her.”

“I hear she kept it in the pocket of her garden coat.”

“Yeah, but she wore that jacket when we went on dates, too. She must’ve taken the bee kit out and forgot to put it back. She ruined my life as well as her own.”

The Siamese, not used to seeing anyone cry, came forward to watch, and stroking them gave Frankie some comfort.

From then on, he was a sullen guest…. “I hafta get back to the theater.” He jumped up and bolted out to Qwilleran’s vehicle without a word to the cats.

Qwilleran drove him back to the concert hall. He dropped him without receiving thanks, but Daisy was in the lobby.

“Thanks, Qwill! How did it go?”

“Okay, but I think he was nervous about getting back on time.”

After dropping off Frankie unceremoniously at the concert hall, Qwilleran returned to the barn to feed the cats and was greeted by two agitated Siamese. It meant the phone had been ringing but no message had been left.

He prepared their plate of food and watched them devour it, but they did so nervously, with frequent glances toward the back door. While they were bent over their plates the phone rang—and they jumped a foot.

Daisy was calling from the theater. “Frankie got back on time but he was a wreck. Hannah had to sub for him. What happened?”

Qwilleran said, “Bears discussing, but not over the phone. I’ll see you tomorrow.”