The real Mother Goose

“No buts.” Mother stood, her lips set in a firm line they all knew well. “It’s your responsibility to keep them out of trouble. Yours and Jacks. They are your charges. If you can’t handle such a simple task-”

“Simple!” Jill nearly screeched the word, but she was cut off by the sound of hissing and howling just outside the drawing room window.

“Lucy and Molly.” Willie pulled what was left of the curtains aside to reveal a tumble of black and white fur going by outside. Toby, the boy cat, sat on the sidelines watching, his green, slitted eyes bright in the sunlight as the female felines turned and twisted on the grass, clawing and hissing and making a general ruckus.

“Fine.” Mother sighed, standing and going over to the window. Molly had Lucy pinned, her teeth at the other catwoman’s neck. They were normally quite friendly, all of them, but lately had been fighting over the young Tom’s attention and Toby did nothing but encourage it.

“Blue, Jack,” she addressed them without turning, seeing the cat girls give up their fight as Toby wandered over, looking smug. “Three cages, but inside please. Use the second guest room, and make them roomy and comfortable.” Blue helped Jack up from the floor and the two of them went out of the room without a word. Jill went to follow, but Mother called her back.

“You and I have some veterinary work to do,” Mother said with a sigh, looking down at the two bleeding cat women on her front lawn. “Willie, get me some bandages, would you please, dearest?”

The little man sighed, but went off to do his mistress’ bidding.

* * * *

Mother looked, content, around the room at the scene of domestic bliss before her. Lucy was curled at Blue’s feet, her cheek resting against his thigh. He was absently stroking her, and the purr filling the room was loud. All three cats seemed happy enough, really-Toby was sleeping in front of the fire, curled around Jill, who was sleeping there as well, and Molly was close to Mother, as usual, the best behaved of them all, ignoring the yarn Jack was winding into a tight ball. Not an easy feat for a cat, that-yarn and string was nearly irresistible.

They had been chastised, she supposed, by their caging. Mother missed them at night, but Willie insisted they be caged especially then, because they had been sneaking down to the kitchen at night and eating the raw poultry and drinking all the milk. Incorrigible, wild things, Mother thought, running her hand through Molly’s sleek fur. The catwoman smiled up at her in response, flashing her sharp incisors for a moment. Not that she blamed them. She had her own tendency to run wild, she knew, and needed a firm hand to keep her on the ground.

“Mother, a message.” Willie appeared silently at her side.

“Goodness, Willie!” Mother startled, her hand going to her throat. “I’m going to put a bell on you as well as the cats!”

He smirked, but didn’t respond. Instead, he held out a silver tray, a white card centered there, written with a fat, lazy scrawl. Mother knew it immediately.

“Well, we’ve been summoned, then,” she murmured, using a long fingernail to ease open the edge of the envelope. Her hands shook when she removed the thick card.

Join me tomorrow evening just after sundown. I have word of your husband and wish to discuss. Bring your two new charges. -Cole That was all, but Mother had a sinking feeling. Word of Artan? How? The thought was both exciting and terrifying. Was he alive? Was he coming home? The last didn’t give her pause. Old King Cole liked to break in all of their charges at one point or another, and he had a penchant for redheads. For all things red, really-of course, he was married to the Queen of the Hearts, so it was no surprise. They were, after all, his charges really. She just trained them.

Mother looked up to see all of them, even a sleepy Jill lying nude by the fire, looking up at her expectantly. She put on a bright voice and face.

“We’ve been invited to see the King!”

Blue raised an eyebrow, but didn’t stop stroking Lucy, from tip to tail. She rubbed her face against his knees, his thighs, his crotch, purring loudly, the only one to ignore the announcement.

“He sold us to you,” Jill frowned, stretching, her pink tipped breasts flushed from the heat of the fire. “Why does he want to see us again?”

“He charged you to me,” Mother corrected, glancing at the note again. Word of your husband. She decided not to tell them that part, and slid the card back into the envelope. “I’m sure he just wants to see you’re doing well.”

“They’ve been broken in nicely, Mother,” Blue praised, his eyes moving over Jill’s lazy form as she snuggled against the boy cat.

“Yes,” she agreed, glancing over at Jack, still winding yarn. “They’re obedient enough, for the most part.” She stood, taking the card and tossing it into the fire. The