Pun Detectives and the Case of the Kidnapped Kitten! (Part 4)

It all started at the end of summer, just about a month ago, Monty and Tuesday explained as I picked my confused jaw, loosed by the seeming non-sequitur of a request, off the floor. Lily was listening, attent.

That’s right, I thought. I remembered now. They’d said this was about a disappearance right at the beginning. I mentally added “Your detective has the memory of a goldfish with Alzheimer’s” to the list of things I refrained from telling them.

Monty told us the story.

Three might not have been enough to make an official club. But it was enough to join a local karate tournament. At least one that was being held around here anyway.

That was how Lily and I learned that Theo Thurston, the former club member we had been told about before, was a part of the team right up until recently — he had only quit a month ago, right before the school year started.

The three of them — Monty, Tuesday, and Theo — had joined an unofficial single-elimination team kumite tournament in another city with the hope of boosting their morale, which was at an all-time low, before the start of the year. That way, Monty said, they would be able to psych themselves up, recruit a fourth member, and go official in no time flat.

Reality was not so kind. As it turned out, the tournament only plummeted them from an all-time low to an all-time lower.

In the first round of their first match, Tuesday went toe-to-toe with her opponent and came just shy of winning. In the next round, Theo punched above his weight to come out on top. It kind of made me wonder what sort of karate organization allowed mixed-gender teams, but that was the unofficial tournament circuit for you.

Finally it was time for Monty’s match: the tie-breaker that would determine whether they made it to the next round or fizzled out in their very first. Things started off well, with Monty leading by a number of points. But then, out of nowhere, right in the middle of a jumping roundhouse kick, Monty suddenly fell asleep where he stood. He collapsed in an exhausted heap right in the ring, leaving the ref to count Zs where just a moment prior he was counting points.

Needless to say, they lost the match and were knocked off the bracket. It was a single elimination tournament, which meant all they could do was pack up and go home.

So that’s what they did.

Theo never came back.

Later on, once school started, Theo told Monty and Tuesday that he was quitting the club. That he was better off focusing on other interests. Because karate club, frankly, just wasn’t taking off.

They didn’t hold it against him. In fact, they said, he was right.

“We never were the kind of club he wanted us to be,” lamented Monty. “I just hope he knew that we were never the kind of club we wanted to be either. Besides, it was my fault.” He was looking down. He hit his thigh. A practiced motion. “Who just passes out like that? And when everyone was counting on me no less.”

Uh. Not me. Nope. Couldn’t relate. Haha. Why would you even suggest that?

Tuesday looked like she was about to say something, but stopped herself. I thought that maybe she was going to try to tell Monty that he was wrong, that it wasn’t his fault, but couldn’t find the words to make him believe it.

Lily wondered if it was a sudden bout of narcolepsy that brought on the sleeping spell, but Monty denied it.

“I don’t have narcolepsy. At least as far as I know.”

“It was exhaustion,” Tuesday said, this time without a hint of hesitation. “You were working yourself to the bone at your job at the time, and then you were coming home and practicing karate all night and day. Something was bound to give, and surprise: it was you.”

Another pained expression crossed Monty’s face, like he was sitting on needles. I took that to mean Tuesday was right. “If only there were more hours in the day,” he said, his voice, his expression, all of it distant, as if suddenly he were somewhere else, looking at something completely different from what the rest of us were seeing. “Then I could really devote myself to karate. Really turn this club into something great. And never make any stupid mistakes again. If only I had more time...”

He was right, and I couldn’t say I didn’t feel for him. He was a senior. He only had a few months left.

“And it’s only gotten worse now that we’re back at school,” Tuesday continued. “Juggling school, homework, work work, karate class, and the club. Don’t ever think we don’t respect you for it.”

“Thanks,” said Monty, but he looked a little embarrassed. He was pulling at his collar a little bit. “But on top of that, it’s basically been impossible to get our spirits up with this situation with Teabone.”

That was it. We’d finally gotten to the heart of the matter. Teabone, we were told, was Wednesley’s pet kitten. She was a small calico who had only been born earlier this year. The two of them were inseparable. Until one day they were, you guessed it, separated.

“She went missing,” Wednesley said, still looking down and not at us. Without a trace, if the scant details the three of them then provided were to be believed.

“We only had her here for a week or two, since Wendesley joined, but she kind of became our club mascot, you know?” Tuesday explained. “But we haven’t been able to find her for almost two weeks now. Plus, we just narrowly missed having four club members for the first time ever, cause we would have if only Theo stuck around.”

I got it. I could see why they were so down in the dumps. I could also see why they wanted to resolve this feline fiasco as soon as possible. They only had a few more months to recruit their fourth member and become an official club, but it was hard to keep their collective chin up with Teabone missing. That’s where me and Lily came in.

It was no wonder that Monty blamed himself either. If only he hadn’t worked himself to the point of exhaustion, they might have advanced in the tournament, Theo might have stayed on, and they might have official club status already.

Unfortunately for them, in this case, “might” didn’t make right. Because none of that was true. If only things had zigged instead of zagging, they probably wouldn’t be in this mess, but there was no use thinking about what could have been at this point.

For the first time since we’d gotten there, Wednesley stood up. I hadn’t noticed it before, but he was positively cadaverous. His legs and arms were like chicken bones, skinny with big ball joints, cauliflower-bunched cartilage. His face was skinny, long, sunken. He didn’t need to take his shirt off for me to know that his ribs poked out like a skeletal hand encircling a fragile skin-and-bones stomach.

He was kind of like a fleshy, emaciated, way-lamer Bionicle. He didn’t look like the type to be interested in martial arts.

Even still, he looked straight at me when he made his request:

“Please find her. Please find Teabone.”

Behind the fog and makeshift mend of his glasses, I saw something in his eyes, a look that I couldn’t quite place but that — fact that I was technically obligated to lend a hand aside — I couldn’t possibly refuse.

Come on dude… don’t look at me like that!

The end of Pun Detectives and the Case of the Kidnapped Kitten! (Part 4)!
To be continued in Part 5!