Story 59: Reza Shadey and the Whispering Wall
One terribly quiet Monday, Mrs Higgins' garden was holding its breath. The clouds had nipped off for a biscuit, the breeze was having a kip, and even the birds were keeping mum. Reza Shadey — the grandest, fluffiest, most tremendously important Persian cat in the postcode — was deeply suspicious. "Quiet is duller than a rainy bank holiday", he muttered, flicking his magnificent tail. "And when things are dull, it's my royal duty to make them properly brilliant!"
He promenaded along the garden path like a tiny king in furry slippers, tail aloft like a feather duster of supreme importance. Then he heard it. A whisper! A proper, actual whisper coming from the mossy wall behind the rose bushes:
"...rustle-rustle... twitch... shiny crumb... flap-flap-flutter..."
Reza's emerald eyes sparkled like stolen jewels. "GOOD GRIEF!" he gasped, fur tingling with self-importance. "A prophecy! Meant only for the brainiest and most dashing ears in the garden! Which are, naturally, mine!"
He summoned his "staff", who were inconveniently enjoying the sunshine. "EMERGENCY MEETING!" he yowled. "THE WALL'S GONE CHATTY!"
Penelope, looking posh and proper, blinked slowly. "It's just the wind, Rezzi. Or your tummy rumbling after those extra treats."
Ginger Tom rolled over, showing his rotund tum. "Probably just mice. Or your ego bouncing off the bricks like a furry tennis ball."
Tiger gasped and did four bounces. "Ooh! What if it's pirates? Can I be captain? Can I wear an eyepatch?"
Reza raised a paw dramatically. "SILENCE, my adorably dim subjects!" He leaned in conspiratorially. "This is no ordinary noise. The wall has revealed a HORRIBLE SECRET!"
He paced like a tiny barrister. "'Rustle-rustle' clearly means squirrels plotting to pinch our cushions! 'Twitch' means their suspicious noses! 'Flap-flap-flutter' means they've got... FLYING MINIONS!"
Tiger's eyes became saucers. "And the shiny crumb?"
Reza clutched his chest. "That's MY PREMIUM SALMON BISCUITS they're after! But fear not! I, Reza Shadey, Grand Poobah of Fluff, shall save the day!"
He issued battle orders:
1) Ginger Tom was sent to raid the kitchen for "anti-squirrel weapons" (because he could sniff out snacks blindfolded)
2) Tiger got "aerial defence duty" (chasing anything that moved)
3) Penelope was told to guard the shed while looking "terrifyingly posh"
Chaos erupted! CRASH! BANG! WALLOP! Ginger Tom knocked over Mrs Higgins' flour bag, becoming a ghostly spectre. "Why do I always fall for Reza's bonkers plans?" he wailed, sneezing snowy clouds. "ACHOO! PUFF! ACHOO!"
Outside, Tiger bounced into the prize petunias. "BOING! SPLATTER!" "Got one! A leafy villain!" he declared, covered in soil and purple petals.
Meanwhile, Penelope sat sternly on the shed roof. When the postman arrived, she hissed magnificently. "YIKES!" he yelped, scattering letters everywhere. "FLUTTER-FLUTTER-THUD!"
And Reza? He supervised from his throne (a garden chair). "I don't make the chaos, I simply interpret the wall's wisdom!" he announced grandly.
The ruckus peaked when Tiger, leaping at a "flying minion", landed headfirst in the compost bin. "WHOOSH-SPLAT-SQUELCH!" Penelope hopped onto the wobbly wall to rescue him... and discovered the truth.
Not squirrels. Not flying minions. Not stolen biscuits.
A family of starlings! Four fluffy chicks chirping as mum delivered a shiny beetle lunch. "Tweet-rustle-flap! Chirp-chirp-munch!"
"Those were the whispers", sighed Penelope, shaking her head.
"So... no pirate squirrels then?" asked Tiger hopefully, banana peel dangling from his ear.
"Just hungry birds", groaned Ginger Tom, still snowy white.
Reza blinked twice, then delivered the most magnificent shrug in feline history. "Ah. Yes. Well. Mission accomplished!" He began washing a paw. "The garden is squirrel-proofed, mysteries solved and spiritually blessed by yours truly. You're welcome."
As he sauntered inside, tail swishing like a furry windscreen wiper, he whispered to the starlings: "Keep it down tomorrow, feathered tattletales. I've got a brilliant theory about the Great Snail Uprising..."
Night night. Sleep tight.