It took us three girls over an hour of climbing to catch up with Java and Watson. We flopped down in the grass, watching the two boys crab-walk in circles, smacking each other’s heads with their paws.

Java cried out, “Ow! You’re not supposed to use your claws, Watson! We’re only playing.” Then Java jumped on his friend when he wasn’t looking, biting at Watson’s paws. Watson bit back and accidentally snapped at Java’s sore foot which brought the game to a painful end.

Grace shook her head scornfully. “Take a good look, girls. This is why we don’t play with boys.”

Ignoring Java and Watson, we lay in the cool grass listening to birds. Grace answered the birds with little staccato chirps. Then she flicked her tail, twitched her fur, and impulsively ran thirty feet up a cedar tree as easy as you’d chase a rabbit across the yard. Grace the athlete.

From the tree, she had a good view of the canyon over the ridge. Cicadas buzzed, crows cawed. A bright yellow goldfinch on a branch above her head sang passionately about a dark-eyed Junco who’d left her with a broken heart and a clutch of eggs after he’d migrated to Canada in the spring.

Two daredevil squirrels taunted each other into death-defying stunts, like suicidal acrobats on laughing gas.

Three crows worried a good-sized red-tailed hawk who was circling perilously close to Grace’s tree. The crows took turns diving at the angry bird until the hawk flew upside down, driving the startled crows down the canyon.

Already nervous, the sudden cry of a flicker above Grace’s head startled her and she lost her balance. Clawing desperately to keep from falling, cedar bits sprinkled down on us as we watched her from far below.

By then Java had climbed up the tree, which was kind of amazing, considering he still had that bandage on his right foot. He was yelling up at his sister from a few branches below. “MeMe was right! But I sure hope Ridley was wrong!”

“Is this more of your silly cat logic, Java?” Grace called down impatiently.

When she saw where Java was pointing she lost her balance and fell off the branch, then bounced off the limb below and landed on Java. He shrieked when she raked his back with all eighteen claws. Together, they scratched down the trunk, falling the last ten feet onto Watson who was looking up with his mouth open.

Java and Watson retreated down the hill like mad hornets. Right behind them, Grace close-hauled MeMe in a mad scramble to safety.

Then I heard something.

“Meow! Help me. Please!” It sounded like a kitten.

As I ran back up the hill toward the cry, a dark shape glided overhead. Birds stopped singing, even the cicadas quit buzzing. For a time, the forest was wrapped in silence.

A violet light flashed down with a sharp electric crack. It hit the tree above me with a bang, showering wood chips and leaves. A tree limb crashed down across the path. Dozens of birds who’d been hiding under the trees suddenly shot into the air with a frantic rush of wings.

In the brief silence that followed I heard the cry again.

Crack! A blinding ray of intense light dazzled my eyes. Oak tree bark exploded all around. From somewhere down the path I heard Grace scream, “Ridley! Ridley get down here. You’ll be killed! Run, Ridley, run!”

Another big branch fell across the path in a crash of leaves. Shafts of bright morning sunlight broke through the canopy overhead as the dark thing glided away making that same sound like a musical top spinning up, faster and faster.

The eerie silence was first broken by crows cawing. Then a few songbirds lit up the woods with their melodies, squirrels raced down trees, and then the hot weather bugs took up their insistent buzz once again.

Just beyond the fallen branches, staring straight ahead with wide terrified eyes, a young grey cat stood petrified with fear.

Grace ran back up the path to see what was wrong.

“Come down, Ridley! Answer me!” Grace stamped her foot impatiently the way she does when she wants your attention. Running closer, she saw the frightened kitten. It was the one who lived with young Ann, the girl in the grey house next to the farm.

“Jeffery. What are you doing all the way up here?” Grace said gently. “You’re too little to be on the mountain alone.” But Jeffery only meowed sadly.

We looked him over to see if he was hurt. Grace said, “We’d better get him home to Ann before that thing comes back.” She quickly shepherded the little guy down the path under fallen branches and around a litter of leaves, to safety in the arms of the person who loved him most of all.

MeMe hung back while I licked my foot. “That was a brave thing you did, Ridley. Your tail’s scorched and your feet are burned.”

Not much of a hero, I shrugged. “I wanted to run but my feet wouldn’t move.”

MeMe smiled. “What do you suppose Jeffery was doing up here?”

“Maybe they wanted to find out where we live.”

She flashed a worried glance at the sky.

“Won’t Mr. Detlow be surprised if they go to his house by mistake!”

“His dream of a lifetime, you mean! He’d be famous.”

“Where do you think Java and Watson went?”

“They’re probably in Maryland by now.”