Story 178: Reza Shadey and the Jolly Roger of Catford
"Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones. Let me tell you a tale about a very cheeky and magnificently fluffy Persian cat who spotted a skull-and-crossbones flag flying above the Jubilee Grounds, and decided — immediately, and with complete confidence — that Catford was being taken over by pirates."
It was a breezy Saturday. Mrs Higgins was humming happily in the garden while watering her flowers, and Reza Shadey was perched proudly on the garden wall performing his Weekly Strategic Perimeter Audit.
His magnificent brown-and-black fur rippled gently in the wind as he surveyed the rooftops, the chimneys and the neighbourhood's pigeon traffic.
Everything appeared perfectly normal.
Then his emerald eyes caught something fluttering above the Jubilee Grounds.
A black flag.
A white skull.
Two crossed bones.
His tail shot upright like a bottle brush.
"Penelope!" he yowled, leaping into the flowerbed. "Hostile takeover. Maritime division. Jolly Roger sighted. This is not a drill."
Penelope, the elegant white cat, paused halfway through washing her paw.
"Rezzi, it might just be..."
"No time for 'might'," Reza interrupted, puffing out his chest until he looked like a very fluffy admiral. "Tiger! Ginger Tom! Emergency board meeting. We must stop these pirates before they seize our sunbeams and tuna reserves."
Tiger came skidding across the lawn.
"Pirates?! Bet! Do I get an eyepatch?"
Ginger Tom stretched lazily along the fence.
"It's prob'ly a festival", he muttered. "But if there's snacks, I'm in."
Reza was already marching towards the gate.
He was a champion Blunderbuss, a master Muck-upper, a Plungetist of the very highest order, and today he had appointed himself Chief Executive Officer of an entirely imaginary crisis.
When the four cats reached the Jubilee Grounds they found the Catford Weekender in full swing.
Families wandered between colourful stalls. Music drifted through the warm air. Storytellers entertained excited children. Local history displays stood beside craft tables, while volunteers in pirate costumes welcomed everyone to a day of seaside adventures and swashbuckling tales.
To everyone else it was a cheerful community festival.
To Reza...
"...they've already established regional headquarters", he whispered.
He pointed solemnly towards the pirate flag.
"Observe their branding."
Tiger followed his paw.
"It does look piratey."
"Exactly."
Reza lowered his voice.
"Tiger, create a diversion. Maximum bounce."
Tiger looked around for something suitably pirate-ish and immediately spotted a row of empty wooden barrels beside one of the displays.
"Cannons!" he cried.
Before anyone could stop him, he dived headfirst into the nearest barrel.
The barrel tipped gently onto its side...
...and rolled happily down the grassy slope.
"Wheeeee!"
Children laughed.
Parents applauded.
Tiger emerged dizzy and delighted.
"I've been cannon-balling!"
"Excellent initiative", Reza nodded. "Very motivating."
"Ginger Tom."
"Yeah?"
"You are Director of Treasure Security."
Tom looked around thoughtfully.
"Fair enough."
He wandered over to the refreshments and immediately discovered a sausage roll that somebody had accidentally dropped.
He stood beside it looking extremely official.
After making absolutely certain nobody claimed it...
...he quietly ate it.
Meanwhile, Reza marched confidently towards the nearest pirate.
The pirate happened to be an elderly volunteer with a magnificent fake beard and an enormous feathered hat.
"Ahoy there!" the pirate boomed.
Reza gave a dignified nod.
"I represent Shadey Maritime Consultancy."
"Do you now?" the pirate smiled.
"I do."
"And what exactly do you consult on?"
"Leadership."
The pirate raised an eyebrow.
"We've already got several captains."
Reza sighed sympathetically.
"Far too many."
He leaned closer.
"What you really need is someone to organise everything properly."
The pirate chuckled.
"And who might that be?"
Reza smiled modestly.
"Myself, naturally."
The volunteer laughed so heartily that several nearby parents turned to look.
"Perhaps", he said, "you should speak to the Admiral."
He pointed across the field to a small stage where a storyteller dressed as Captain Blackbeard was gathering a crowd of children.
Reza nodded gravely.
"I knew it."
"Senior management."
He strode across the grass just as Captain Blackbeard called out,
"We need one brave volunteer to help us!"
Before another child could move...
Reza leapt onto the stage.
"I accept your unconditional surrender."
The audience burst into delighted laughter.
Captain Blackbeard bowed deeply.
"Oh dear", he cried. "The Pirate Inspector has arrived!"
Reza froze.
He had been recognised.
Very slowly he paced across the stage, inspecting imaginary paperwork, occasionally nodding to himself.
"Hmm."
He tapped one paw thoughtfully.
"Your piracy lacks proper organisation."
Captain Blackbeard looked worried.
"What should we do?"
Reza cleared his throat.
"Firstly..."
He paused for effect.
"...appoint me Supreme Executive Pirate."
The children cheered.
"Secondly..."
He glanced around the stage.
"...there is far too much sword waving."
Captain Blackbeard saluted smartly.
"Aye aye, sir!"
"And thirdly..."
Reza pointed dramatically towards the refreshment stall.
"...every successful pirate operation should include more biscuits."
The applause was enormous.
Children clapped.
Parents laughed.
Even the actors struggled to keep straight faces.
Just then Mrs Higgins arrived, having heard reports of "a very opinionated fluffy cat" stealing the show.
"There you are!" she laughed, scooping him gently into her arms.
"You really have turned a lovely community festival into your own pirate pantomime, you silly sausage."
Reza looked up at her with complete dignity.
"My dear Mrs Higgins, by the time ordinary citizens realise there was never any danger, good leadership has already succeeded."
Mrs Higgins kissed the top of his slightly glittery head.
"I suppose it has, has it?"
"It certainly has."
That evening, the garden glowed softly in the golden light of sunset.
Tiger was still enthusiastically demonstrating his barrel-cannon technique.
Ginger Tom finished the last of what he insisted was "official pirate treasure."
Penelope quietly untangled a paper pirate hat that had somehow become wrapped around Reza's fluffy tail.
Reza curled himself into a magnificent executive ball upon his favourite cushion.
"A thoroughly successful consultancy", he purred.
Penelope smiled.
"Was it, Rezzi?"
"Naturally."
"You didn't actually become Pirate CEO."
Reza opened one eye.
"My dear Penelope... I had already finished organising the pirates before they realised they needed organising."
Nobody knew quite what that meant.
Least of all Reza.
Penelope simply smiled.
"There We Are Then!"
Reza closed his emerald eyes and purred happily.
Tomorrow, he decided, he would conduct a full review of Viking leadership.
After all...
History rarely managed itself.
A very important message from Mrs Higgins: Community festivals are wonderful places to learn about history, meet new people and have fun together. But it's always best to find out what flags and costumes really mean before jumping to conclusions. Funny mix-ups can happen — and remember to keep your paws (or hands!) off the displays unless you're invited.
Night night. Sleep tight.