Bethel and I slept in. I don’t know how we managed it. Everybody else was making one hell of a racket. We staggered into the workshop and I saw that a framework for the mirrors was already in progress. Bethel went and peed in a corner. Not ideal, but I sure wasn’t letting her out to go potty. I saw that Jill had made an old cooler into a litter box for Lexington, and a half empty sand bag from the fly system sat beside it.
“Sleeping beauties. Dreaming of knockers,” Moira said.
“I hope I wasn’t screaming your name.”
“Don’t dream about me, ” Moira warned. “I like you, but I don’t LIKE you.”
Trish had recovered a little and had gotten into the act. She had a screw gun in her hand, and it looked natural there. Jill was the only one who wasn’t busy. Her butt was balanced on a sawhorse, her elbows were on her knees, her chin was in her hands, and she was staring at a stack of speakers.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jill said, “about how we can make the bird not come when the gate goes up. The gate is going to alert the bird. The only way to avoid the gate sound is to leave from the back door, and it’s going to be a long damned way around the block, inside that box. We’d rather the bird not be very interested in us so we can leave through the front door and just cross the street, right? So, I’m thinking that we can use sound to deter the bird.”
“That’s a thought, Jill, but what sound would a bird not like?,” Mike asked.
About an hour later, Jill had a recording studio set up.
“Laaaadddddiiies and gentlemen. In this corner, we have Lexington. Weighing in at 15 lbs., his hobbies are eating tuna and shitting in a box. His opponent, wearing the lovely purple collar, is the Goddess of Gotcha, she put the ‘Can’ in ‘Can Opener’…it’s Beeeeethel!”
“Mike, this isn’t funny. We wouldn’t normally encourage them to fight, like this,” Jill said. “We just need the sounds.”
“OK, OK. I’m sorry. But, I’ve got $5 that says Bethel destroys Lexington.”
Jill looked quietly at Mike, and he put away his $5. Since it was his only money, I briefly wondered if he was seriously trying to grow his dough.
Our attention turned to Bethel and Lexington. They were both on high alert. I had a small can of tuna. There was one bowl on the floor.
“You ready?,” I asked Jill.
She hit the ‘Record’ button. “Go for it.”
I jerked the pull tab on the can. A helluva racket began immediately. Lexington and Bethel were no fools. They knew there was only one bowl. Yowls and growls and barks filled the room. The noise intensified when the tuna hit the bowl. There was a brief period of actual violent contact, where each tried to claim the bowl and contents. Lexington screamed his fury that some bitch would try to take his tuna AND bite him. Bethel screamed her fury that some bastard would try to take her tuna AND scratch her. They both opted for snatching tuna and gobbling it outside of the bowl. We all remained quiet until the tuna was gone and the growls subsided. Jill turned off her machine and said, “I’m going to loop this, so it will be much longer. I’m going to make an announcement tape, too. If we tell them we are coming, maybe somebody will be there to open the doors for us.”
“Oh. Wow,” I said. “It really never occurred to me that they might not let us in.”
“Why wouldn’t they let us in?,” Mike said. “We are going to be in a big mirror box, playing a cat and dog fight as loud as we can. Who wouldn’t want us to come over?”
By the end of the day, the mirror box was basically finished. We’d hauled a sound system up to Jonathan’s office. We fought an initial impulse to just go, and resigned ourselves to one more night in the greenroom. We decided to have a pajama party, maybe watch a little TV.