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The Knitting Needle

Betty J. Sayles

    “Come here, boy,” demanded the old woman who sat on her porch knitting. Fifteen year old James resented being called boy and he didn’t want to stop to see what she wanted because a radio station was playing old “Green Hornet” programs after school and he didn’t want to miss one.
     “I can’t stop now, Mrs. Debbin, I have homework to do”, answered James.
    “You can do that later,” said the old woman, “ I need you to take Fritzi to the vet. She has an ear infection.”
    Mrs. Debbin lived with six cats. Fritzi was a cute little, white Angora with a sweet disposition. Ordinarily, James wouldn’t mind too much as he liked most of the cats, but he didn’t want to miss the “Green Hornet”. “I can’t take her today, I’ll take her tomorrow, it’s Saturday [no Green Hornet].
    Mrs. Debbin’s wispy, grey hair flew up in the air as she leaned forward, looked down her long, narrow nose at James and pointing her long knitting needle at him said loudly, “She’s in pain, you will go now.”
    It seemed James’s feet had a will of their own as he trotted up the steps towards the basket in which Fritzi was covered up. He picked it up and started for the veterinarian’s office. He thought, “Well, of course I can’t let Fritzi suffer, I’m doing this because I want to, not because I’m being made to do it.” James shook his head, what was he thinking?

    James was a good- hearted boy. Good looking too, with long lashes covering his hazel eyes, a straight nose and a warm smile. His family had lived next door to Mrs. Debbin for six years and James had visited her and her cats often. Without knowing how it had happened, he had developed respect for her long knitting needle. It was made of a beautiful polished wood. Once he thought he had seen it hit it’s companion [a blue metal needle] when a mistake was made in the cat coat being knitted.

    Browser was a big, gray alley cat, a fighter. He had only one eye, a tattered ear and a broken tooth. He spent his days near Mrs. Debbin so she could reach down and scratch his ears occasionally. His nights were a mystery, known only to himself and possibly, Mrs. Debbin. The other cats were strays that people dropped off at her house, never speaking to her because they were wary of her.

    One of her neighbors reported her to the Board of Health because of the cats. She was forced to give up six of the twelve cats she had to the animal shelter where she heard they were put to sleep.
    The next day that neighbor was startled when stones pelted his large picture window. One big stone put a crack in the window from top to bottom. He could see no one outside, only a big, battered looking cat sitting on the sidewalk looking at the window.
    Browser came back from a stroll around the neighborhood and jumped into his mistress’s lap. He purred while she scratched his ears. “Good Cat,” she said.

     Later in the week, two boys on bicycles rode past Mrs. Debbins as she sat knitting on her porch. One of them called, “How many cats have you got now, you old witch?” The knitting needle dropped a stitch and pointed at the bikes. They collided and the boys were thrown off and landed face down on the cement. Both faces were scraped and noses were bleeding. The boys got back on the bikes as fast as they could and sped away. The knitting needle went back and picked up the dropped stitch.

    There was one especially vicious bully on the block. He was 16 years old and had just gotten his driver’s license. He bragged about his dad letting him drive his expensive new car. One day on his way home from school, James saw the boy stabbing a jackknife into a small animal. It was Fritzi. James yelled and the boy ran off. James took the little cat to the vet who, after examining her, said she’d live.

    James went to tell Mrs. Debbin. She was napping on her porch with her knitting in her lap and Browser on the floor beside her chair. He stood thinking for a bit, then gently slid the wooden knitting needle out of the cat coat in progress and backed away. As he left, Browser got up and followed him.

    James found the boy who had stabbed Fritzi sitting in his dad’s new car. Browser jumped up against the car door and raked his claws into the new paint. He seemed to enjoy it because he did it in several more places. The bully yelled and tried to open the car door, but the knitting needle gave a flick and the doors locked. Browser jumped onto the roof and began shredding the fabric top. The knitting needle flicked and the car started to roll. Browser was afraid to jump off. The car went faster until it rammed into an open restaurant dumpster. The front of the car crumpled, the doors flew open and the bully and Browser went sailing into a week’s worth of ripe garbage. They both howled. Browser climbed out, by way of the boy’s back, and streaked for home. When James got to the car, the boy was crying and moaning, “ My father, my father.” James warned him to leave Mrs. Debbin and her cats alone.

    Mrs. Debbin still slept as James slid the knitting needle back in the cat’s coat. It moved around a bit until it found where it had left off. Browser was purring beside his mistress’ s chair. Mrs. Debbin opened her eyes, scratched Browsers ears, wrinkled her nose and asked James if he and Browser had a nice walk.
    James told her that Fritzi was at the vets, but would be okay.
    She thanked him. “Will you have a cup of tea, James?”
    He noticed she hadn’t called him “boy”. “Thanks Mrs. Debbin. I have to get home now, but I’ll be back later to give Browser a bath.” If he hurried he’d get home in time for part of the “Green Hornet.”

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