The Bug Light Boys — Episode 3: The Search

By Lloyd W. Alexander

By the time Mickey’s car appeared around the bend, Big Donnie had already told the same story twice.

The second telling was better than the first, mostly because it had acquired a boat, a state trooper, and a man from New Hampshire who apparently owed Donnie an apology.

“There was no boat,” Slim said.

“You weren’t there.”

“Neither was the boat.”

Charlie sat back with his hands folded over his stomach. He had the expression Eagle Eye was beginning to recognize: the one that said he was enjoying himself too much to interfere.

Mickey’s car crawled into view so slowly that Eagle Eye noticed the movement before he recognized the vehicle.

“Mickey,” Slim said.

“Could be anybody,” Big Donnie replied.

“Nobody else drives that slow.”

It took Mickey another minute to park. He emerged carefully, closed the door, straightened his sweater, and smiled as though he had arrived precisely when he intended.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” His eyes found Eagle Eye. “Hello, young sir.”

“Hi, Mickey.”

“And Maggie isn’t here yet?”

“She’ll be here,” Charlie said.

“Then I’ll save her a seat.”

Big Donnie looked at the row of empty folding chairs. “You’ve got choices.”

“A gentleman likes to be prepared.”

It was the kind of afternoon Eagle Eye had started to look forward to. There was no plan. There rarely was. Beyond the screen of leaves, the road continued toward the boat launch. Across the harbor Portland rose in the distance, a city he knew by heart, while this little clearing seemed to exist on its own time.

He had his camera beside his chair, not in front of his face. That was becoming a habit.

A woman’s voice came from the road.

“Excuse me? Are you gentlemen here often?”

The talking stopped. A woman stood a few feet from the clearing, holding a phone with both hands. She looked tired. Her sneakers were dusty, and her face had the strained look of somebody who had been trying not to panic for hours.

Charlie stood. “Most days. Everything all right?”

“I’m looking for my cat.”

Big Donnie glanced at Slim. Slim glanced back. Neither said anything.

“He got out yesterday,” the woman said. “We think the back door didn’t latch. He’s never been outside. Not once.”

She held out her phone. On the screen was a gray-and-white cat with a white blaze down his nose, sitting on a sofa as though the furniture belonged to him.

“His name’s Oliver.”

Charlie studied the photograph. “Good-looking fellow.”

“He’s my baby.” She attempted a smile and couldn’t quite manage it.

Mickey stepped closer. “When did you last see him, ma’am?”

“Last night. We live a few streets over. I don’t even know how far he could have gone.”

The woman continued. “We’ve looked everywhere. I’ve been walking since six this morning. My husband drove around. We’ve called him. Nothing.”

Eagle Eye looked at the photograph again. “You said he’s never been outside?”

“Never.”

He looked toward the road and then past it, toward the industrial property and the places where weeds and old equipment made narrow pockets of shade.

An indoor cat. New smells, open sky, engines, gulls, strangers. Everything enormous. Everything wrong.

People often imagine a frightened animal running as far as it can. Sometimes it does, but often the first thing it wants is somewhere small enough to disappear.

He knew what that felt like.

“Have you checked right around your house?” he asked.

“Under the porch, the bushes, the shed. My husband even crawled under the deck.”

“That was good,” Eagle Eye said. “He might not answer even if he hears you.”

“He always comes when I call him.”

“At home he knows he’s safe.” Eagle Eye paused. “Out here he might be too scared to move.”

The woman stared at the picture in her hand. Charlie did not rush to fill the silence.

Big Donnie rubbed his chin. “That’s a lot of ground to cover for one cat.”

Charlie looked at the woman, still holding the photograph as though it were the only thing keeping her moving.

“Not just a cat to her,” he said. Then, gently, “We’ll take this seriously. Let’s get a number where we can reach you.”

“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Charlie told her.

“Thank you.” She showed them the photo once more, as if repeating it might help them remember. Then she walked on toward the launch.

Big Donnie watched her go. “Poor woman.”

“Poor cat,” Mickey said.

Eagle Eye was still looking toward the industrial lot.

From their clearing he could see only pieces of it: a stretch of fence, some grass, and beyond that the ends of long pipes stacked near the working waterfront. Some were wide enough for a man to crawl into. Others were scarcely larger than a cat. The stacks looked orderly from a distance, but the ground between them was full of awkward gaps.

He had seen the pipes before. He had never had a reason to think about them.

Now he did.

He leaned toward Charlie. “Can I tell you something?”

Charlie turned at once. “Sure.”

“Those pipes over there. If the cat came this way, that’s where I’d look.”

“Why there?”

“It’s dark. Tight. Sheltered. He could hide without having to keep running.”

Charlie followed his gaze. Then he nodded and looked around the circle.

“Eagle Eye thinks we ought to check those pipes.”

Five faces turned toward him.

It happened so quickly that Eagle Eye felt the familiar heat rise in his neck. He had told Charlie quietly. He hadn’t expected to become the center of the conversation.

“Pipes?” Big Donnie asked. “Why would a cat go in a pipe?”

“Because you wouldn’t fit,” Slim said.

“I could fit in a pipe.”

“Not one a cat likes.”

They laughed, but Eagle Eye was aware of their eyes on him. He tried to organize his thoughts in the right order. He could hear himself getting ready to explain too much.

Charlie waited.

“If he’s frightened,” Eagle Eye said, “he’s probably not exploring. He’s hiding. He may have moved only when it was quiet, and those pipes would feel protected. He might be right there and never make a sound.”

Slim looked across the road. “Makes sense.”

“But wouldn’t he come out for food?” Mickey asked.

“Eventually, maybe. Fear can be stronger than hunger for a while.”

Charlie looked at Eagle Eye again. There was no teasing in his face now.

“You know how a frightened animal thinks,” he said. “Tell us how to look without driving him farther in.”

Eagle Eye hesitated under the attention, then answered. “Quietly. From the edges first. Nobody reaching into anything.”

Charlie nodded. “All right. That’s our plan.”

“So we go look,” Big Donnie said, already rising.

Charlie raised one hand. “We don’t go climbing around an active industrial yard.”

Big Donnie sat halfway back down. “I wasn’t going to climb.”

“You were halfway there,” Slim said.

“I was standing.”

“Dangerous start.”

They approached the gate from the public side and found a worker near a service vehicle. Charlie explained that a woman was searching for a missing cat and asked whether somebody could safely check the stored pipes. The worker considered the question, then agreed to show them where they could safely look. They would stay away from machinery and the dock.

“Nobody goes into the stacks,” he warned.

“Understood,” Charlie said.

Slim looked at Big Donnie.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“Usually am.”

They walked along the edge of the storage area, following the worker. The pipes lay in rows of different sizes, some resting on timber blocks, some nested close together. Weeds grew around their ends. From a distance the dark openings looked identical. Up close, each held its own patch of shadow.

Eagle Eye stopped at the first group and crouched without reaching inside. He studied the ground: dust, dry leaves, little scraps of grass caught against the metal.

Big Donnie leaned toward a large opening. “Here, boy! Come on, boy!”

Slim turned. “It’s a cat!”

“Cats hear, don’t they?”

“They also have standards.”

Mickey chuckled. “Oliver might be offended.”

“I’m trying to help.”

“Then stop barking at him,” Slim said.

Eagle Eye smiled despite himself. He had been afraid they would all look to him for answers. Instead they were being exactly who they were, and the familiar rhythm helped him think.

“We should keep our voices down,” he said.

Big Donnie closed his mouth with theatrical effort.

“That’s the hardest job you’ve given him,” Slim murmured.

They moved slowly, looking from a safe distance into each accessible opening while the worker watched the yard. Charlie took one side. Slim inspected the lower gaps. Mickey kept an eye on the grass behind them. Big Donnie held a flashlight and, to everyone’s surprise, used it without delivering a speech.

Eagle Eye watched for movement rather than a whole animal. An ear. A whisker. A shape where a shape had not been a moment before.

Near the far end of the row, something pale caught his eye.

He stopped.

Between two pipes, deep in shadow, a small white triangle showed for an instant and disappeared.

“Charlie,” he whispered.

Charlie came beside him. Eagle Eye pointed without moving closer.

“I think he’s there.”

For a moment nobody spoke. Then a pair of eyes appeared in the dark.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Slim whispered.

Big Donnie drew breath. Charlie gave him a look, and he let it out silently.

“We found him,” Mickey said softly.

“Not yet,” Eagle Eye replied.

The cat was wedged well back where nobody could reach safely. The worker would not let them shift pipes, and Charlie agreed immediately. They needed the woman, a carrier, and patience.

Charlie checked that everyone was clear of the stacks, then asked the worker to keep the nearby activity away from their end of the row if it was safe to do so. He did not try to reach the animal or take over Eagle Eye’s approach.

“What do you need?” he asked Eagle Eye.

“His owner. A carrier. And quiet.”

“Then that’s what we’ll get.”

Charlie called the number she had left. His voice stayed calm. “We may have found your fellow. Don’t rush. Bring his carrier if you have one.”

While they waited, Eagle Eye crouched at a distance and kept his gaze slightly away from the opening. He could see Oliver watching them. The cat’s body was invisible, but the eyes remained.

“Why aren’t you calling him?” Big Donnie whispered.

“Because he doesn’t know me.”

“He doesn’t know any of us.”

“Exactly.”

“So what do we do?”

“Give him a reason not to be more afraid.”

Charlie settled beside Eagle Eye, leaving plenty of space between them and the pipe. He said nothing. Eagle Eye was grateful for that.

The woman returned with her husband and a plastic carrier. She nearly ran when she saw the men, but Charlie met her before she reached the stacks.

“Easy,” he said. “We think he’s in there. Let’s not frighten him farther back.”

When she saw the eyes, she put a hand over her mouth.

“Oliver?”

The eyes vanished.

Her face fell. “Oh, no.”

“He heard you,” Eagle Eye said. “That doesn’t mean he’ll come straight out.”

He asked her to place the carrier on the ground near the safe edge and open it. She had brought a small blanket from home. He suggested putting it inside with a little food and then sitting nearby without reaching into the pipe.

“Can I talk to him?” she asked.

“Quietly. Like you would at home.”

She sat down on a patch of dry ground. Her husband stayed beside her. The rest of the group retreated several steps, leaving the cat a clear way out.

Big Donnie stood with his hands jammed into his pockets. Slim looked at him.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. Keep it up.”

Minutes passed. A gull cried overhead. Somewhere beyond the stacks, metal clanged, and Oliver disappeared farther into the dark. The woman flinched, but Eagle Eye shook his head gently.

“Give him a little time.”

It was harder than it sounded. Eagle Eye could see it in the way she held herself: every part of her wanted to reach in and pull him to safety. He understood the urge. But the animal had to believe that coming out was safer than staying hidden.

At last a white nose appeared.

Nobody moved.

The cat took one careful step, then another. He paused when he saw the open space. The woman whispered his name. Oliver froze.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s me.”

He turned toward the familiar blanket. One paw reached the edge of the carrier. He sniffed, retreated, then came forward again.

Big Donnie made a small sound in his throat. Slim elbowed him.

Oliver climbed inside.

The woman leaned forward slowly and closed the door. Only then did she begin to cry.

Her husband knelt beside her. “You got him,” he said.

“He came out,” she whispered.

Charlie looked toward Eagle Eye, but Eagle Eye was watching the cat. Oliver sat inside the carrier, blinking at the blanket as though he had awakened from a bad dream.

The woman stood and tried to thank everyone at once. Mickey took her hand. Big Donnie assured her that Oliver had been in excellent hands, though he did not specify whose. Slim reminded the couple to have the cat checked if he seemed injured or unwell after his time outside.

“You boys are wonderful,” the woman said.

“We’re mostly available,” Big Donnie replied.

Charlie smiled. “Glad he’s going home.”

They watched the couple carry Oliver toward the road. The worker returned to his duties, and the group walked back to the clearing.

Big Donnie broke the silence first. “I knew he was in there.”

“You were calling him like a Labrador,” Slim said.

“I was establishing contact.”

“You were establishing that you’ve never owned a cat.”

Mickey laughed. “I rather liked your technique.”

“Thank you, Mickey.”

“It didn’t work, of course.”

Big Donnie shook his head. “Nobody respects experience anymore.”

When they reached the chairs, Maggie’s car was pulling in. She got out and took one look at their dusty shoes.

“What did you idiots do now?”

“Rescued a cat,” Big Donnie announced.

“From what?”

“Certain death.”

“From a pipe,” Slim corrected.

“A dangerous pipe.”

“A stationary pipe.”

“They’re the worst kind. Sneak right up on you.”

Maggie looked at Charlie. “What really happened?”

Charlie nodded toward Eagle Eye. “He figured out where to look.”

Again the attention shifted toward him. This time it did not catch him quite so hard. He told Maggie about the frightened indoor cat and the pipes, keeping the explanation short. When he finished, she smiled.

“You really do see things the rest of us miss.”

He looked down. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes is plenty,” Charlie said.

Big Donnie pulled his chair closer to the table. “Of course, once I started calling him—”

“Donnie,” Slim said.

“What?”

“It’s a cat.”

The laughter came easily. Eagle Eye joined in.

Later, while the others argued over whether a cat could recognize its name, Eagle Eye looked toward the road. He thought about Oliver tucked into the pipe, hearing people call and still unable to move. He thought about the woman wanting desperately to reach for him. And he thought about Charlie, on that first afternoon, leaving him enough room to decide for himself whether to stay.

Nobody had pulled him out of his car. Nobody had demanded that he join them.

They had made space.

Across the harbor, Portland caught the late light. Inside the clearing, Big Donnie was explaining why he could have trained Oliver in half an hour, and Slim was explaining why that would be a crime against cats.

Eagle Eye rested his camera beside his chair.

He did not pick it up.

He stayed.