The noise brought everyone running to the barn. Dogs were barking down the road, a bedroom light went on over at the Detlow house next door where Jeffery lived. Over on the other side Dilby yelled at his dog Drake to stop barking. The two large barn doors lay on the ground like broken wings.

Bill ran his fingers through his hair. “Can’t imagine what could have caused this,” was all he could say.

Grace looked up at the bent metal door track hanging down. To no one in particular, she observed, “Guess we won’t have to oil those squeaky wheels after all.”

“Very funny, Grace.” Java reminded his sister, “MeMe was inside.”

At that, everyone ran into the barn, yelling, “MeMe! MeMe!”

“What are these cats meowing about?” Bill grumbled as he and Susan looked in through the open doorway. “They’re running all over meowing and meowing like they’ve gone nuts. It’ll wake up the whole neighborhood.”

“We’re in the country, Bill.” Susan reminded him soothingly. “Nobody can hear them out here.”

Bill pointed toward the neighboring house.

“See Detlow peeking out his window? I told him if he ever found one of those UFO’s he’s so crazy about, I’d let him hide it in here.”

“Imagine hiding a flying saucer in our barn!” Susan laughed.

Bill left Susan safely outside and ventured in.

After looking around with his flashlight, he called out to Susan, “Seems OK. Must have been a freak wind gust. Looks like someone went over the floor with a leaf blower.”

“Do you think it was a tornado, Bill?”

“Only the kind that knocks down doors, if it was.”

“I’ve heard of stranger things, Bill.”

As they walked back to the house together, Bill said over and over, “It’s the strangest thing, can’t imagine how it could have happened.” He turned around, “What about the cats?”

“They’ll be fine. I’ll be in the kitchen working on my book. They’ll meow when they want to come in.”

Watson was in a panic. “There’s no sign of MeMe anywhere! We even looked under those big doors. She doesn’t answer.”

“She must be hurt! Knocked unconscious!” Java cried out.

This sent everyone searching again.

Watson called out, “Anyone seen that freaky cat Ridley?”

“She must have stolen the saucer,” Java hissed. “I knew that cat was no good.”

Sona lashed her tail, “Ridley wouldn’t do that.”

Chocolate ran back with wild eyes.

“That Mau cat’s gone! Door’s wide open.”

Everyone let out a shout and ran for the chicken coop.

Off in the weeds, Jeffery sat with tucked paws, folded up in doubt. After the ship flew away, suspicion tugged at his thoughts that maybe the smooth-talking Mau had fished him in. When he saw an angry crowd rush toward the chicken coop, Jeffery slipped away quietly to hide under the Detlow’s back porch and make himself scarce.

Instead of finding Mau, the cats found me, covered with scratches and painful bites, wandering in a daze out in the garden. Just as I predicted on Monday morning, the cats drove me back to the barn in front of an angry mob, where I figured they’d put me to death. All that was missing were the pitch forks and torches.

I tried to tell them I’d done my best to save MeMe from Mau. But Java and Chocolate goaded me painfully with nips and swipes.

“What did you do to MeMe?” Chocolate demanded.

My feeble attempts to explain were shouted down.

“Why did you let Mau out!” Java screamed.

“I told you to guard the ship.” Grace fumed, “What happened?”

Java faced the others, “I know what happened! She ran away again and left MeMe alone with that monster!”

“Where is she? Where is she? Why did you let him out?” they screamed.

What was the point of explaining anything to these cats?

Dr. Mina tried to calm them down. “Can’t you see Ridley’s hurt? Maybe you should let the poor cat tell her own side of the story.”

“I’d never believe Ridley, no matter what she said.” Java spat. “We trusted her to guard the barn, but she let Mau out and ran away again.”

Sona protested, “You don’t know that.”

But there was no stopping Java. “We’ve got her now and she’s gonna pay! That cat’s been trouble from the moment she set foot here.”

I was furious, too, aching all over, scratched and bleeding, ear split open from fighting Mau who’d bitten me over and over. The cats jumped away as I took a swipe at Java and ran from them. Skipping up the ladder to the hay loft, clawing up the bales, I stood defiantly at the very top of the mow.

“I don’t know what happened,” I screamed down at them. “If I knew where MeMe was, I’d go find her myself, but I don’t know!”

MeMe and I had dragged her Egyptian sarcophagus out of the ship, but the lid was stuck fast with dried beeswax. After tugging and pounding on it, we finally gave up. We giggled like kittens, as MeMe told me about Cat Camp and the things we’d do together up in Canada. Later, we hugged each other in the dark barn, listening to her ghost stories she’d heard around the campfire last summer, nervous as Dracula’s bats.

Out of nowhere, Mau jumped us and we were both fighting for our lives. MeMe knew Mau would kill to get his collar back, but she hadn’t been able to get it off. He used it to drag her screaming and clawing into the ship. The barn doors blasted open with a shock wave that threw me all the way down the back stairs.

Head spinning, ears ringing, I staggered out the stable door searching everywhere for my friend, but it was hopeless. MeMe went away with the ship.

From my perch at the top of the hay loft, I could see Java clawing up the bales with murder in his eyes.

“You’ll fall and break your neck!” Grace called out to him. “Come down from there.”

And so, Java came down — only not the way he planned.

Measuring the climb, the cat leaned out and lost his balance. He grabbed desperately at the hay mountain towering in neat bales all around. As Java snatched at straws, bits of hay sprinkled down on the terrified cats below. With nothing to dig his claws into, Java’s foot slipped. He tumbled backward with a shriek, hit the loft floor and bounced over the side.

By the grace of Java’s razor sharp claws, he managed to grab the edge of the tie beam. Dangling eight cat-lengths above the hard yellow-pine floor, Java cast a rueful glance at the cats below, who held their breath in case he didn’t land on his feet. What would summer be like if Java were in a cast until September? — or worse!

Fortunately for Java, he was a tree-climbing fool who’d developed some powerful muscles. Carving deep scratches in the old oak beam, he struggled to pull himself up with super-cat strength. After a great deal of effort, the cat lay panting and safe at the edge of the loft.

His friends below heaved a sigh of relief.

With angry eyes flashing up at me, Java carefully lowered himself down the ladder rung by rung. Once his feet were finally safe on the floor, all the cats glared up at me because if Java had been hurt, it would have been my fault for making him mad enough to chase me.

Cat logic.

His sister cuffed him. “Serves you right, you furry fool!”

Watson tossed his head toward the loft. “Don’t worry, Java. That miserable cat will be gone by morning. She’ll never dare show her face around here again after what she’s done.”

Chasing everyone from the barn in a rage, Grace screamed, “What do you know about anything she’s done?” She clawed at Watson, driving him toward the house. His screams and tufts of his white fur floated across the moonlit yard, mingling with Grace’s angry shrieks.

I glared down from the top of the loft, hurling daggers with my angry green eyes. Several bats careened drunkenly under the rafters, their squeaking radar orchestrating a bitter reverie that poisoned my thoughts.

To hell with those cats! I had to get MeMe back. But how?

Casting my green gaze around the floor, I thought about a time not too long ago, when disappointed with my life, I stood at this very same place ready to cast myself down to bring my wretched existence to an end. That was before I knew MeMe.

Now everything I’d come to love had vanished in an instant. What a fool I’d been to think it could have turned out any other way for a cat like me.

Some cats are destined to lead a miserable life, like the black cats that get kicked because some dope thinks they bring bad luck. The only one with bad luck is the poor cat who’s been born with the wrong color fur.

Life should never be like that for anyone.

Down to the floor, any of my remaining confidence vanished like smoke in the wind. I gave one last gloomy glance to the rough boards I’d once hoped would be my home.

If anyone had been watching, they would have seen a sad broken cat slip down the back stairs, squeeze painfully under the cracked board in the stable door, and they would have seen her run across the field toward the woods without a backward glance.