Author: James Kowalczyk

“I’ll get the head nurse on the late shift to translate and write it out for me,” Oscar said. Toby stopped playing with the ball of gauze he’d swiped from an orderly on the third floor, took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Not going to work. I tried that before. Not all humans speak cat. Turns out mammalian commonality is not enough. The person needs to be static free so they can vibe in and connect.”

Both cats sighed and continued their stroll to the geriatric ward. It was their favorite route, complete with smiles, petting and the pure happiness they spread by being there. The pediatric ward was a close second. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Oscar had witnessed what he believed was a crime. Oscar shared everything with Toby right after it happened.

He’d been hanging out in room thirty-five on the cardiac ward that night. It was not the usual night nurse doing rounds. She had such negativity about her that it gave Oscar a headache when she walked into the room. When she took the syringe out of her pocket, the sinister glance she shot Oscar was undeniable. Oscar felt powerless and scared, but stayed. When the nurse left, he noticed that the liquid in the IV bag changed color. The next day, when Oscar woke up, the patient was gone.

Now he needed to connect and solve the crime-but how?

“Hey Toby, the woman in room forty-eight, you think she understands Feline?”

“She seems to. I mean, it’s worth a try. Whenever I’m in there I definitely get the vibe and connection. And not just through food.”

That night Oscar visited the patient in room forty-eight. He jumped up on the bed while she slept. He positioned himself so that he could gently press his forehead against hers and then fell asleep.

In the morning, the detectives were questioning the night nurse. She gave Oscar the same sinister look as he walked by her. He went to find Toby and tell him the news. He was probably already on the geriatric ward. Oscar smiled. All was right with the world.