Story 37: Reza Shadey and the Witch's Cat
The mist was swirling like a ghostly cat around Mrs Higgins' garden as evening tiptoed in. Reza Shadey, magnificent Persian cat and self-proclaimed King of Everything, was surveying his domain from the top of the shed. Suddenly, a new cat appeared at the edge of the gardens. She was sleek, black as a starless night, with eyes like two tiny, glowing moons. She moved like a whisper.
"Meeeow? Who goes there?" Reza Shadey called down, his voice full of importance (and a teeny bit of suspicion).
The black cat looked up. "They call me Shadow", she purred, her voice as soft as cobwebs. "And you must be Reza Shadey. I've heard... tales."
Reza puffed out his chest. "Tales of my magnificence, no doubt!" he thought. But a new cat? In his territory? And so... mysterious? He was instantly jealous.
Soon, Penelope, Ginger Tom and Tiger gathered around Shadow, their eyes wide. Shadow spoke of her home with a kind lady who grew herbs and knew all sorts of interesting things. "She's a witch, you see", Shadow whispered, her moon-eyes twinkling. "She makes potions and can even fly on a broomstick! And she doesn't much like other cats wandering into her garden, if you catch my drift." Shadow gave a tiny, almost invisible wink.
Penelope gasped. "A real witch? How enchanting!"
Tiger bounced. "Wow! Can I fly on a broomstick?"
Ginger Tom's nose twitched. "Does she make... witchy biscuits?"
Shadow chuckled, a sound like rustling leaves. "She makes lovely lavender biscuits. But she says naughty cats who misbehave, especially those who sneak into her garden uninvited, might just find themselves turned into... frogs!"
The other cats shivered with delightful fear. All except Reza Shadey.
"Pah!" he scoffed, though his tail gave a nervous twitch. "Witches? Frogs? Utter nonsense! I am Reza the Grand Wizzard! My powers are far too grand for any mere garden witch!" "Though a quick peek under a bush wouldn't hurt, just in case of stray frog-transforming spells", he added to himself and promptly hid under the largest rhododendron.
The next day, Reza was determined to prove Shadow was a fibber (and that he, the Grand Wizzard, was fearless). "I shall undertake a Wizzard's Quest!" he announced to a passing ladybird. "To expose this 'witch' and her so-called magic!"
Under the cloak of twilight (actually, just behind the compost bin), he snuck into the neighbouring garden. It was filled with fragrant herbs. "Aha! Potion ingredients!" he whispered, recognizing parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme from Mrs Higgins' cooking. He saw a sturdy broom leaning against the shed. "A lesser Wizzard's travel staff, no doubt! Inferior to my own invisible one, of course."
He tiptoed past a row of clay pots, but his magnificent fluffy tail (which sometimes had a mind of its own) knocked one over! Clatter! Then another! CRASH!
A sleepy voice hooted from the apple tree. "Hooo-WHOOO's there?"
"A fearsome magical guardian!" Reza gulped, his Wizzardly courage wobbling. He dived into the nearest shed, squeezing under the door.
Inside, it was dark and smelled of earth and old tools. Suddenly, a large, spooky shadow fell across the dusty window! Reza's fur stood on end. "The Witch! She's enormous!" He squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, please, please, kind Witch, don't turn me into a frog!" he whimpered, his voice very small. "I'm far too magnificent to be green and slimy! I'll be a good cat! I'll never chase your magical owl again! Just please, not a frog!"
The shed door creaked open. Reza peeked through one eye. It was Shadow!
"Lost, Grand Wizzard?" she purred, a twinkle in her moon-like eyes. She nudged the door wider. "The lady of the house, Agnes, is just bringing Hoot his supper. He's a bit grumpy if he misses it."
Reza scrambled out, trying to look dignified, which was hard when covered in cobwebs and trembling slightly. Agnes, a kind-faced lady with flour on her apron, smiled. "Oh, hello there! Another visitor? Shadow, is this a friend of yours?" She didn't look like a scary witch at all. More like Mrs Higgins, but with more herbs.
Shadow licked a paw. "Next time, Reza", she murmured, "perhaps don't go poking your magnificent Wizzardly nose into other people's potion ingredients. Some witches are very particular about their parsley." She then added, "And by the way, being a black cat doesn't make me spooky, you know. It just means I'm excellent at hide-and-seek in the dark. And Agnes isn't a scary witch; she just knows a lot about plants and helps people feel better. Some folks get funny ideas about things they don't understand. Sometimes a little story keeps curious paws out of her prize-winning lavender, if you know what I mean." Shadow winked again, very deliberately this time.
Reza Shadey returned to his own garden, muddy, wide-eyed and a little less puffed up.
"Well?" asked Penelope eagerly. "Did you vanquish the witch, Grand Wizzard?"
"Hmph!" Reza declared, fluffing his fur. "It was merely a daring reconnaissance mission! The 'witch' is no match for my Wizzardly intellect and her owl was clearly in awe of my powerful aura. I was never scared at all! Not even a tiny bit wobbly in the whiskers!"
He stalked towards his cushion, then paused. "Though", he mused silently, "being a witch's apprentice... learning 'advanced potion-making'... especially if it involves lavender biscuits... that might hold a certain... Wizzardly appeal."
The other cats exchanged knowing glances. That was Reza for you. Always the Grand Wizzard, even when he was more of a quivering kitten.
Mrs Higgins just sighed when she saw the muddy paw prints leading to his bed. "Oh, Reza", she murmured, "what adventures have you been on now?"
Night night. Sleep tight.