Act 2, Scene 2

Stripe pawed through the tight passage. Her green eyes glowed in the dark. “You coming, Spot?” she called.

Spot grumbled, “This isn’t what I’d call fun, is it?”

“No, but it is exciting.” Stripe pushed her way through a thick spider web.

Groaning, Spot watched his sister bat a dust bunny away. He and his twin sister had been born in the opera house, unknown to the humans. Their mother had died when they were kittens, so they had looked out for each other right from the start.

From the very beginning, they’d known of the Ghost Cat. The Opera Cat manager before Norb had believed in the phantom and told them about it. And of course there were the many incidents that occurred in the building. None of the incidents could be explained away by earthly causes. 

“Where exactly are we going?” Spot asked, coughing at the dust the two cats stirred.

Stripe shrugged. “As far as we need to. If a cat is in this passage, we’ll catch up with him. I want to be able to tell Norb that there was no sign of a living cat.”

Spot wrinkled his nose. The only sign of life, oddly enough, was one of death. It smelled as if something had died in the passage not long ago. He wondered what Stripe thought of it, and not for the first time he wished he could have a fraction of her courage.

He wondered for a brief moment where they were. They’d left the basement, or so he thought. Their route had taken them upward. Perhaps they were near the stage? He doubted that. They hadn’t walked that far. Maybe they were near the dressing rooms for the humans.

A hiss erupted in front of the cats. They both froze. Spot shivered, his short fur sticking out from his body.

“Can—can we go now? I think we found what we needed. There’s no one here,” Spot whispered.

Stripe stepped forward. “No, there’s someone here,” she hissed. “I saw something move. Come toward us, whoever you are!” She pricked her ears forward. The only sound was her breathing mixed with that of her brother’s.

“Come out or I’ll charge!” Stripe yowled.

Spot hunkered down on the cold passage floor. “Stripe, don’t—”

Without warning, Stripe bolted down the passageway. Spot scurried after her as fast as possible. Spider webs swiped his fur as he ran after his sister, and the death smell became stronger.

“Stripe?” Spot pricked his ears forward. He’d lost sight of his sister. From ahead, scuffling and whimpering echoed to where Spot stood. “Stripe!”

Spot raced through the passageway. He stepped on something warm and sticky. A sharp, iron-like smell pervaded this section of the passage. Spot lowered his face. And screamed.

A crack formed beneath him, and a shaft of light sliced through the crack and into the passage. Spot twisted himself around and ran back the way he and Stripe had come. Behind him, the limp body of his sister rolled on the crack. The crack grew, becoming large enough for the body to slip through. The body fell through the opening, dangling from a metal hook.

#

“AHHH!”

Susannah rushed from her dressing room and fled toward the source of the screams. They had come from the rooms reserved for the young girls of the ballet. Susannah put her hand to the doors she passed as if to sense which room held the wailing girls.

The door ahead of her swung open, and a group of screaming girls ranging from ten to fifteen spilled out into the dim hallway.

“What’s the matter?” Susannah asked, her heart racing with fear. She grabbed the nearest girl’s arms and squeezed them.

Tears flowed from the girl’s eyes. She blinked rapidly. “The—the—the—”

“There’s a dead cat in there!” an older girl exclaimed, pointing a shaky finger at the room.

Susannah’s eyes widened. For a moment she feared it might be Roxanne. She gently shoved the trembling child at the older girl before she flew into the room.

A dead cat dangled from a hook swaying from the ceiling. Blood dripped from its mouth to the floor. The poor creature’s tongue lolled out, adding the finishing touch to the grisly scene. Susannah placed a hand over her thumping heart. It wasn’t Roxanne.

“What is the commotion? Some of us need peace and quiet!” Maria’s voice boomed from the hallway.

Susannah turned to the girls. “Tell Maria to leave. This will only upset her.”

The older girl—Susannah recognized her and thought her name was Evelyn—turned toward Maria, her long black hair spinning around her. Susannah heard the girl warn Maria, but then the door banged fully open, and a loud gasp drew Susannah’s attention from the poor cat.

“That—that’s a corpse,” Maria stammered, her face growing white.

Susannah sighed. “It’s only a cat, Maria. You act as if it’s a human body.” Susannah clenched her hands into tight fists. It was up to her to diffuse the situation, not only for the girls but for Maria as well. “Why don’t you go to your dressing room, Maria?” she softly added.

Maria lifted her chin. “I’ll stay here if I want to!” But her hands twisted at the collar of her shirt, and she stared nervously at the shadowy corners.  

“What about Olga?” Susannah asked. There had to be something Susannah could say to get the haughty prima donna out of the room. “If this poor cat has been killed, who knows what could happen to your cat or any of our cats? They might be in danger.”

Maria’s hand flew to her mouth. “You mean there’s a cat murderer on the premises?” She stumbled out of the room. “Oh no! Olga, Olga dear! Mummy’s coming!” With that, Maria raced down the hall.

Evelyn made her way through the weeping girls to Susannah. “I don’t think anyone is killing cats, at least not in the opera house,” Evelyn muttered.

“I know,” Susannah said with a sigh. “But I needed Maria out of here. She gets easily agitated by everything.”

“Who wouldn’t be bothered by a dead cat falling through the ceiling?” Evelyn asked, sweeping her hand out behind her, indicating the distraught ballerinas in the hallway.

Susannah bit her lip. “Do you think you could get them out of here, too? Maybe have them practice at the barre.”

“What are you going to do?” Evelyn’s voice shook.

“Take the cat down, for starters. I’ll think of where to take it after that.”

Evelyn nodded. She turned around to shepherd the other girls out when two men barreled into the room.

“We heard the screaming from the orchestra pit. Is everything okay?” Phillip asked. When his gaze fell on the cat, he gasped.

Stone shook his head in disbelief. “A cat? A dead cat? How in the world did this happen?”

“Perhaps we can theorize after the girls leave.” Susannah nodded at Evelyn, who was having difficulties in herding the girls out. “They’re already terribly upset by this. No reason to make it sound worse than what it is. It was only an accident.”

Phillip placed a hand on Susannah’s shoulder. He looked at the girls, then at Susannah. “Stone and I will take care of everything. Why don’t you deal with the girls? I’m sure Evelyn could use the help,” he said.

Susannah stared at Phillip’s brown eyes. His gentle gaze soothed her. Phillip always remained calm no matter how horrible the situation grew. With a small nod of her head, Susannah said, “All right.”

Once Susannah stepped out of the room, the young girls visibly relaxed upon seeing her, their faces regaining some of their lost color. Susannah walked beside Evelyn a few paces behind the girls.

The girl Susannah had grabbed earlier craned her head around. Several freckles dotted her light brown skin, and her curly hair was piled on top of her head in a bun. Surprise filled Susannah at how calm the girl seemed after witnessing such a horrific sight in their room.

“I think it was the Phantom Cat that hurt the poor kitty,” the girl said. The other girls nodded in agreement.

Evelyn groaned. “Really, Alma, not the Phantom Cat again.”

“Who’s the Phantom Cat?” Susannah asked, intrigued.

“The Phantom Cat is the ghost of a cat who died in the Shelley Opera House while it was being built. A workman accidentally dropped a hammer on the cat’s head,” Alma explained excitedly. She tapped the top of her head for emphasis. “The Phantom Cat has haunted the building ever since.”

“Whenever a ballet slipper or a pair of tights goes missing, they blame the Phantom Cat,” Evelyne explained. She rolled her eyes. “The younger girls claim they see its shadow cross the hallway or hear it hunt mice at night. I’ve never seen it.”

Susannah shrugged. “I guess all theaters have their ghosts. Why not have stories of a Phantom Cat as well?”

“Surely you don’t believe it?” Evelyn asked in an exasperated tone. 

“I believe something must have happened to create the legend,” Susannah said with a small smile. “But I don’t believe in ghosts, human or feline alike. Nothing of mine has been stolen, nor have I seen shadows cross my path.”

Alma grabbed Susannah’s hand. “Don’t you have a cat?” she asked, her face crinkling with worry.

Susannah tilted her head. It never ceased to amaze her how a child’s attitude could change so fast from one extreme to the next. Alma had been cheerily explaining the Phantom Cat’s story, and now the girl’s mirth had vanished at the thought of Susannah’s pet. “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?” Susannah asked.

“The Phantom Cat might not be scary to you, but it might hurt your kitty!” Alma wailed.

By now the gaggle of girls had reached the end of the hall where the ballet studio was located. Evelyn opened a door leading to a large room with a mirror covering one entire wall. The girls flooded into the room, talking about the Phantom Cat in excited whispers. Alma and Evelyn remained with Susannah.

Susannah tried thinking of comforting words to give the young girl. She supposed that to a child of ten, any ghost seemed scary, even a feline one. Susannah leaned toward Alma and said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll keep an extra special watch over my cat. Besides, nothing scares her, not even ghost cats.”

This seemed to pacify Alma. She smiled, then pranced into the studio.

Susannah stood, watching the girls leap and twirl in the room, apparently having recovered from the fright of finding a dead animal swinging in their dressing room. She rubbed her temples. The sight of the mangled cat hanging from the ceiling would give her nightmares for a long time.

Someone lightly tugged Susannah’s sleeve. For an instant, she thought it was a ghostly cat, and fear filled her, but when she looked down, she saw only Evelyn.

“They don’t need help believing in the Phantom Cat,” Evelyn grumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Susannah said. She crossed her arms. For some reason, the room had grown quite chilly. “I didn’t want her to worry about my cat.”

Staring at her pink shoes, Evelyn asked, “What are they going to do with the cat? Not the ghost one, the one that fell into our room.”

Susannah could tell by the girl’s voice that she worried about the dead animal. “I’m sure they’ll take care of it in the gentlest way possible,” she said. Phillip was there. He would ensure the cat wasn’t simply thrown in the garbage bins, she felt sure of it. “I’m going to my dressing room now. Alma has me worried about Roxanne—that’s my cat. Will you be all right?”

Evelyn nodded. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t think I could’ve gotten the girls here by myself.”

“It was nothing,” Susannah said. She grabbed Evelyn’s hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. With a wave, she turned and headed to her dressing room.

At least that had been her original destination. Her feet led her back to the room where the cat had been found. Inside, Phillip stood on a stool, slowly lowering the cat down to Stone, who held a burlap sack open. Susannah watched the cat disappear into the bag, then she entered the room.

“What are you going to do with it?” Susannah quietly asked.

Phillip stared at her, his face showing his surprise at Susannah’s return. “Susannah, what are you doing here?” he asked.

Stone clucked at Phillip, silencing him. Glaring at Susannah, he grumbled, “We’re going to chuck it in the rubbish bins. What else should we do with the mangy beast? Give it a funeral?”

Ignoring Stone’s harsh comment, Susannah said, “I told the girls you would take good care of it.” She twisted a handful of her dress. She hadn’t wanted the cat to be thrown in the trash, either. The thought made her feel small and childish.

Phillip stepped off the stool and yanked the bag from Stone in one swift motion. To Susannah, he said, “Listen. My grandmother lives on a little farm outside the city. I’ll drive there and bury the cat under an apple tree. How does that sound?”

“Awful! I was joking about a cat funeral!” Stone bellowed. “Besides, you have practice!”

Susannah ignored the angry manager. She gazed upward at Phillip’s face. “You just bought that car. It… I don’t know… Phillip, are you sure you want a dead animal in it?”

“You promised the girls we’d take care of the cat, right?” Phillip gently placed the sack (Susannah tried not to think about its contents) on the floor. Susannah nodded. Phillip smiled and said, “So I’ll take care of it. It’s fine, really.”

Waggling a finger at Susannah and Phillip, Stone snapped, “You two are not going over my head in this grisly matter!”

“I insist I do,” Phillip said, narrowing his eyes at Stone. Stone dropped his finger. “Some things, Stone, require time and a sympathetic hand. I’ll return as soon as possible.”

“I’m taking it out of your pay!” Stone grumbled before leaving the room.

Turning to Phillip, Susannah said, “Really, I didn’t mean for you to drive out of the city with a dead cat in your car. And what about your pay?”

Phillip waved a hand. “He’s bluffing. He’ll probably forget the whole matter by the time he gets to wherever he’s going.” Phillip gripped the bag tighter and headed for the door.

“Would you like some company?” Susannah asked, half of her hoping he’d say yes and the other half regretting asking the question in the first place.

“You should stay here in case the girls need comfort,” Phillip said once he reached the door. He waved for Susannah to follow. “You can walk with me to the street, though.”

They made their way through the ornate opera entrance and outside in a drizzling spring rain. Susannah wished she had grabbed her cloche hat before they had left the building, but alas, she hadn’t. Phillip flung his jacket over Susannah’s head, and she clutched it tight over her ears. She couldn’t afford catching a cold. Once they reached Phillip’s automobile, Phillip placed the sack on the back seat. He then turned and gripped Susannah’s shoulders.

“To be honest, I wish you could accompany me,” Phillip said, almost sadly, “but you’re needed here more. No sense in you losing pay either, eh?" Phillip chuckled. "Besides, I should think you’d want to check on Roxanne.”

Susannah’s eyes widened. “You’re right. I forgot!” She remained standing outside with Phillip. The sweet smell of rain sent a wave of restlessness through her. A change of scenery would be nice, and she wanted to be with Phillip, but he was right. She was needed here to check on Roxanne and comfort the girls. Her shoulders sagged at a new thought. “I wish I was needed here as a prima donna instead.”

“You will be, soon.”

Susannah sighed. “I should just be happy I’m in the opera company at all, shouldn’t I?”

Phillip placed a small kiss on Susannah’s forehead. “Don’t let small roles placate you. Aim for the stars!” He then hopped in his car. With a toothy grin, he started his yellow Nash, then turned onto the busy street. He waved as he drove away and out of sight.

Susannah watched him until he disappeared. Where Phillip had kissed her, her skin felt pleasantly warm. Blushing, she swiveled around and darted inside the building, determined to find her precious cat.

“Jumpin’ Jahosafat!” Susannah paused once she entered the building. “Phillip forgot his jacket!”