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You Know Who

by Beverley, Napier, New Zealand


I was dreaming about a trip on a cruise ship last night when the alarm went off. The noise was so ghastly that I nearly had a heart attack. John was yelling "turn it off, turn it off."

But I couldn't find the alarm control. "It'll be the alarm in the garage," I yelled to John. "I'll have to turn it off in the kitchen - but I'm not going out there alone!" We both fell out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen where I turned off the alarm. The silence was deafening. The clock said 2.00 a.m. The rain was sheeting down and we glared at the innocent-looking garage.

"I bet it's 'You Know Who'," I growled to John. Since reading Harry Potter books I tend to talk in Harry Potter language. "I bet you you locked him in the garage last night."

"Did not," yelled John.

"Did so," I yelled back.

'did, didn't, did, didn't'.

"Perhaps 'You Know Who' followed Ted into the garage," I said. "He was helping Ted paint the kitchen and was there when Ted put the paint away."

As the door swung up and the light flicked on 'You Know Who' was revealed - sitting on the back of the car. He yawned, looked at the rain in disgust and turned his back on us.

"We've got to get him out or we can't lock the garage again," I groaned to John. "You'll have to get him, there might be a burglar around out there."

"Burglar my foot," growled John but he got his raincoat and went to the garage. 'You Know Who' let John get within centimetres of him and then gaily leapt onto the roof of the car and from there into the rafters of the garage. John needed help. I got a coat and a plate of cat food and went out to the garage.

'You Know Who' was putting on an amazing gymnastic performance. I began to wonder if he'd been watching the Olympic gymnastics. A vault over the horse, a spot of work on the bars, a nifty bit of balancing and one glorious somersault. John was frothing at the mouth. "That bloody cat," he screamed. "Come on, get down here."

'You Know Who' simply took John's shouting for applause. He smirked and bowed a couple of times. I produced the food. "Come on Ollie," I crooned, "come on my little darling.."

"He's not my darling," shrieked John.

'You Know Who' didn't need asking twice. After all, it wasn't often he got fed in the middle of the night. He bounded down to the food and was captured. As the garage swung down and Ollie gulped all the food we decided he'd be better inside for the rest of the night. Forget it. As 'You Know Who' swallowed the last morsel he evaded my snatching hands and cavorted off down the garden path in the rain.

We went back to bed but not for long. Half an hour later there was a frightful noise outside the bedroom window. It went something like this 'meeeeoowwwww muarrrumph eeeeee argrph'. I opened the window and 'You Know Who' leapt in. He was soaking wet. But worse was to come. In his mouth was a squirming, lively mouse. John gave a shriek. "That bloody cat. Get him out. We'll have a bloody mouse in the bed next."

I took 'You Know Who' out to the back patio and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. I stroked his throat until he gulped. The mouse leapt free and sped off down the garden path. By a superhuman effort I managed to restrain YKW and took him indoors to towel dry. The clock said 3.30 a.m. YKW was deeply happy. He spent a little time sitting on John's face and finally migrated to the centre of his bed. Later when I looked, John was asleep around the perimeter of the bed. YKW occupied pride of place in the centre. There had to be some sort of wizardry involved. I thought of Harry Potter and then softly uttered the name of He Who Must Not Be Named. 'Voldemort' I breathed.


Editor's note:

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