Susan Salt wished really hard (using a magic chant she learned from her friends at school the other day) for time to hurry faster. The old grandfather clock across the room was right now her chosen enemy. Until it struck 1 o'clock, she would be nailed to the couch.
She tried to a backwards somersault, to pass the time. Failing that, she chewed her hair, then she put both feet behind her neck. The cats were watching her with interest.
She loathed being babysat by Ms. Hobbs, but over time developed a sort of wariness of her.
It was the way the senile old bat never seemed to notice anything Mouse did. Mouse was used to being caught and rather banked on adults' predictable reactions. But the way Ms. Hobbs just never noticed her attempts caused Mouse to be deeply suspicious of her.
Ms. Hobbs actually only knew of one way to deal with kids. She sat her down on her couch, and gave her horrible ancient imported chocolate cookies to eat. Mouse rebelled the first couple of times and fled the couch, but in time she became quite docile. It was no accident that the Salts kept choosing her as her babysitter.
It was probably the fascination that Ms. Hobbs would go through the same motions each time, regardless of the result she got.
In Mouse's mind, it was long decided that Ms. Hobbs was a witch, and Mouse was determined to find her out and catch the moment when she drops her mask.
The old woman sat motionless in her armchair in front of the old clock.
Mouse was watching her like a hawk.
Half a dozen cats were doing the same.
After ten minutes of being intensely monitored, she suddenly spoke.
"Ah...I believe it is time to feed Mitzi."
Mouse perked up. She rather liked Mitzi who was one of the old lady's gentler cats.
"Ah...On the other hand, I'll feed her. You feed Mr. Tibbles."
Tibbles the old tomcat stared at Mouse through his one good eye, with a pose that suggested bloodshed and murder and the loss of at least one arm if somebody tried to stroke it and call it "cute kitty".
Mouse hesitantly took one of the bowls Ms. Hobbs brought in, and pushed it in front of Tibbles.
Just as the old tabby threw itself at the food, the phone rang.
Mouse.snatched it greedily before Ms. Hobbs could even identify where the noise was coming from.
"Susan dear, it's mom. Can you please say goodbye to your babysitter and..."
Mouse darted to the door like a bullet.
"Bye old hag!" she shouted back to a flustered Ms. Hobbs. "I'm leaving! Summer's coming back home!"
"Eh? What did she say? Summer's coming back? I better close the drapes!"
---
Summer entered through the front gate to find Mouse jump into her arms.
"You're back!" she stated. "How was it?
Ooh, you'll NEVER guess where dad had planned the family holiday!"
"Oh no, you don't say..."
"Yes!"
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