Israelcraft

Chapter 4 Johannes Draws Stubbytail in the Public Garden and Makes his own Time Travel Correction

Johannes had just started sketching Stubbytail with charcoal when he noticed the notebook by her and picked it up. The pages were much smoother than any he had ever seen, and this little book held many pages, and they were all uniform. What a fabulous product of ingenuity, he thought. Then he noticed the first page had printing on it. He read:

I know I am just a feline, and one who doesn’t really have any tail to speak of, but tails are not entirely essential, and Stubbytail is exactly who I am. And I love the sound of it. So…Leaving my imperfections aside, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY.

Johannes’ first thought was that Stubbytail had finally figured out she was a she. His second thought was: What could Stubbytail possibly have to say? Then he realized she might have plenty to say, being charismatic and a time traveler.
Then he studied the letters she had printed. The line didn’t vary in width. It was consistent and well defined. What had Stubbytail written with? He knew of no writing tool that could do this. It must be here somewhere, he thought, and combed the area. The grass was high and dense around Stubbytail and he couldn’t locate it. He kept searching.
He didn’t want to be around when Stubbytail woke up.
If he didn’t find it soon, he wouldn’t have a chance to draw her before she woke up. 
And then there it was: a wooden shaft with a gray point at the end. Next to it was a flexible rectangular object the size of his thumb.

He quickly rubbed out the charcoal lines he had drawn using the wad of bread from his shoulder bag, and started again; this time using the pointed shaft. Drawing was so easy with it. He made a mistake and tried erasing it with his wad of bread, but it didn’t work. Maybe, he thought, that’s what that other tool is for. So he tried it and it worked like a charm.
He finished his drawing and put the drawing shaft and eraser down by the notebook.
He decided he would follow Stubbytail when she woke up, hoping it would lead to his sketchbook.
He found a comfortable spot out of her view and waited.
Meanwhile, he thought. Stubbytail was bigger than he remembered her; maybe by a month or two, and the backpack that might have his sketchbook in it was nowhere to be seen.
So why was Johannes here? Then he remembered that when he was transported from the stone bench in the courtyard in front of the studio, his thoughts had been on the sketchbook and Stubbytail; or, rather, on Stubbytail primarily and secondarily, on the sketchbook, because he felt such an affinity with her. From the moment he saw her on the platform in the studio in Utrecht, she had dominated his thoughts. His drawing of her at the time reflected that affinity.

If he were to retrieve his sketchbook, he realized, he would have to focus on it alone.

Stubbytail woke up a moment later and bound away. Johannes went back to where she had been sleeping. Her notebook, the drawing shaft, and the eraser, were still there. He put them all into his shoulder bag; found his bread and cheese, and ate.

Then, with intention, he focused on his sketchbook.

Chapter 4 The Animal Shelter

Johannes time traveled. He turned up at the corner across from the building where the book signing had taken place; the same corner where Stonewall and his twin brother had first noticed that Stubbytail was following them earlier that evening. Trees had fallen, blocking the entrance he had taken into the building. It had rained hard, the temperature had plummeted, and the streets were bare.

Stubbytail was also at the street corner, not far from him, sitting with her back to him, by the backpack. A strange closed in wagon with wheels but no horses stopped in front of her. A side door opened, and a hand appeared, palm up, with something in it for Stubbytail to eat. When she had finished eating, the hand disappeared for a moment and then appeared again with a net on a long handle which scooped her up. Then the hand came out once again and snapped up the backpack. Johannes knew he needed to stick with Stubbytail and the backpack, so he slipped in through the back door of the covered wagon.
The trip was short. The covered wagon went much faster than a horse drawn one. It was being powered by something inside it. Johannes let himself out when they reached their destination, and watched from a distance.

Above the storefront where the Animal Shelter wagon had parked was a sign: 

Animal Shelter 
Volunteer Association

And below: 

In Charge This Evening: Dr. Cohen

Dr. Cohen was printed in black on a rectangle of wood with holes in the upper corners so it could be hung on the hooks provided.

Dr. Cohen, as you may remember, worked at a kitty clinic just past Catnip Arcade. He also volunteered at the Animal Shelter once a week, and in case of emergency. As soon as he heard a storm was brewing and flooding expected that evening, he had made his way to the Animal Shelter. He knew how important it was to get the mobile van in service as early as possible.

Johannes wanted to go unnoticed, but he also didn’t want the backpack to leave his sight. So when Dr. Cohen took Stubbytail and the backpack into the Animal Shelter, he hung back until it was quiet and then casually stood by the front window looking inconspicuous, and glanced in to see what he could see.

He could hear muted barking and meowing. There was a large metal table at the back of the front office with the word “INTAKE” printed in large letters above it. Stubbytail in her cage, and the backpack, were on the table. Next to it was a platform and white backdrop for photographing.
Stubbytail was waking up now. A teenage volunteer lifted her out of her cage, and noticed she had no tail. She put her on the platform and took a photograph of her, made photo copies, and gave them to another volunteer whose job was putting the photos in cardboard frames with Animal Shelter details on them, and pinning them up on notice boards around the city. He left shortly afterwards, with two bags full of these posters and a staple gun.

Stubbytail was back in her cage now, curled up sleeping. There was now a yellow ribbon tied to the cage handle, and another to the backpack next to it. 

Dr. Cohen was nowhere to be seen, but the shelter had rooms behind the office as well as an open area for cats on one side and dogs on the other. From where Johannes was standing, he could see occupied cages lined up on shelves, and young people busy tending to them.

A volunteer came through the front door dragging a sign post that he positioned by the front entrance. The sign on it read:

Volunteers Needed