I sat near Aunt Ellen in the garden, the large book on my lap. The pictures of squirrels on racks, in the iron maiden, or staked over ant hills was fascinating in a repulsive sort of way. I was reading about the Squirrel Inquisition when from out of nowhere two figures dashed across the lawn. The figure in front had something flopping on her back. I looked closer. It looked like a.... Yes, it WAS a camera on a leather strap. She was running for dear life from another girl who was brandishing something in her hand like a sword. I marveled at the Doppler effect as they passed. The mournful sound of "heeellllllpppp" fading into the distance.

"What the...?", I sputtered.

Aunt Ellen looked up. "Oh, that's just KS and her little friend Beeg, dear." She sighed fondly. "They play so well together don't you think."

They circled the camillas and charged back across our view. "Doooo soooomthiinnnnggg," wailed Beeg. Beeg seemed to be staying out in front fairly well and I knew one thing for certain: I wasn't getting involved in this for all the sweet iced tea in the South.

The cat, having no such qualms, sauntered into the path of the galloping hooligans. "Stop!" yelled KS. "Animal on the field!"

Ever mindful of fair play, Beeg stopped instantly. Bodies slammed together. Planets wobbled in their orbits. The camera went flying, but Beeg snagged it out of the air like a fly ball.

The dust settled, revealing a wounded Beeg, a ball point protruding from the lens of her camera.

"Gotcha, goober," murmured KS.

With a disdainful glance at the tangled and bruised limbs, the large orange cat moseyed back and settled once again upon the bath robe and licked its paws.

Aunt Ellen shook her head fondly. "Come, have some lemonade now. You don't want to get overheated in the sun. No, not that lemonade, dear. That's grownup lemonade. Let's go inside and I'll make some just for you."

I sat up with realization I had been staring at something on the far side of the garden.

"Aunt Ellen, what is that very odd plant growing in the corner of Jon's garden?," I asked curiously. "There's one just like it pressed here in the Tales of Slaughter."

"We mustn't talk about that now, dear." sighed Aunt Ellen. "Oh, how I wish that Mique was here." she whispered to herself.

In the kitchen, Aunt Ellen settled Beeg and KS at the table with lemonade and lady fingers.

"Share with your little friend, now," she said. KS arranged all the lady fingers in a row. She took a meat cleaver out of a drawer, raised it high, and severed the lady fingers neatly. She pushed half across the table.

"Yours," she muttered.

"There now," said Aunt Ellen. "Enjoy your snack while we go into the library for a big folks talk."

I leaned over and whispered to Beeg as I followed Aunt Ellen to the door. "Whatever you do, don't go into the bathroom alone."

We went through to the library. The large orange cat was curled up in front of the fire.

"Mr. Spoochy sure looks comfortable," I noted. "Oh, that's not Mr. Spoochy. That's Miss M'lou. She stowed away in my luggage on my last visit to Beth's. When Beth gets here, you must remember to call the her Sir Accuse. I told Beth and Jeff that I got a new cat. Miss M'lou absolutely refuses to return to that wild house. She likes peace and quiet." Miss M'lou or Sir Accuse rolled over on her back and purred loudly.

"Now where did I put that botanical reference book?¨ As Aunt Ellen scanned the shelves, I noticed two well dressed women playing chess at at table by the window.

"I hope we won't disturb the game," I said.

"Oh, no, dear. They've been playing for days. They won't even know we're here."

It was certainly an odd game if they'd been playing that long. Although the pieces had been moved all around the board, none had been captured. Just then, the white player did take a red rook. She stood the piece beside the board. The red player picked it up and put it back in its square.

"One more time!" she stated emphatically.

It was going to be a long game, indeed.

I wandered over to the sofa and sat by Aunt Ellen. She had pulled down a large tome and was leafing through it.

"Ah, here we are. The Latin name for the plant in the garden is Consumius Forestus. It's called the Walkabout Plant in Australia. In the southern states, it's Kudzu. Oh, no!" she gasped. "Colloquially, it's known as squirrelnip!"

"But...but...," I said. "There ARE no squirrels in the garden."

"Precisely, my dear." she sighed. "We must act quickly before Eileeeen completes her diabolical plan."

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Oh, thank heaven. That must be Beth. At last." I ran to answer the door. Beth came in and flung her pennants on a table in the hall. "Aunt Ellen, I'm here only because of the dire need of the squirrels. I must request that for the duration of my stay, you keep away from all kitchen appliances, including eggbeaters!"

"Oh, very well,dear! KS is quite capable of managing the kitchen on her own. Although, I don't know why you keep bringing up all that ancient history."

"Because I lost a perfectly good cat that day. I haven't seen Miss M'lou since. Now, then," continued Beth. "I saw five squirrels on the road in. It's too late for two of them," she shuddered. "But, the other three threw nuts at the car so there's still hope. Where's the computer? If we can get the message out, we may still be able to save most of them. "Oh, by the way," she continued. "Someone outside has your new cat Sir Accuse by the tail and won't let go!"

I opened the door and stuck my head out. "No, but I can understand the confusion. I think those are bagpipes. How odd.... It sounds very like the Canadian national anthem. I wonder...."