Conversations with Critters
Walk with the animals. Talk with the animals. And Chapter 5 of The Case of The Misplaced Priority Envelope…
Today, Critters, we return to our Tuesday Detective Storytime programming and present to you Chapter 5 of The Case of The Misplaced Priority Envelope. The Critters are on a Road Trip to San Francisco! So please, Dear Gentle Readers and Dear Gentle Critters, fasten your seatbelts and join our Core Community Cats, Jasper Kitten and Chris, for an introductory excellent investigative commentary and conversation on the path unwinding all the way to the Golden Gate! Take it away, Critters!
Jasper: Hello, Friends! Thank you for being here with us and for your rapt attention! I’m back in the driver’s seat with Chris riding shotgun and most of all, in luvluvluving memory of our beautiful Senior Shining Star, our Little Dog is the Back Seat Driver. Furever and Ever.
Chris: Thank you for this compelling conversation starter, Jasper. We’re going on a Road Trip to solve the mystery of The Case of the Misplaced Priority Envelope! What. Nefarious. Activity. Is. Going. To. Happen. Next?
Jasper: That really is the question, Chris! So, let’s find out all of the latest in Chapter 5!
The Case of The Misplaced Priority Envelope
Book 1 from the J Kitten, Sleuth & Purveyor of Bright Shiny Objects Detective Agency
By Jasper Kitten, Chris & Star
Dedicated in luvluvluving memory of Star in Heaven Furever and Ever
Chapter 5
Golden Gate
The Critters crossed the Golden Gate Bridge under sunny skies, the marine layer hugging the distant Pacific horizon before the fog, always the fog, began to drift and roll toward the San Francisco Bay.
Star gazed up at the spires of the Golden Gate Bridge, rising 500 feet above the roadway as they sped along. She watched the towers from the rearview mirror as they receded into the distance on the approach to San Francisco. From the Back Seat, she felt the slight sway of the suspension bridge.
“Gosh, that sure is an expensive toll,” said Star, waving a cinnamon brown paw at the bridge.
”No stopping. All lanes. All the time. Gosh, that sure does help with traffic flow,” she went on. “And the Golden Gate Bridge paint job matches your own coat, Jasper Kitten. International Orange like the warmth of the sun and visible in the fog.”
”Thank you, Star,” replied Jasper Kitten, keeping steady pressure on the gas pedal as they drove southbound into the City.
“You’re welcome. It’s hard not to wax poetic on the Golden Gate Bridge.”
”Hey, do we have Fastrak?” asked Jasper Kitten.
”Yes, I created an account with my phone while we were on the road,” said Chris. “Our license plate will be scanned because there wasn’t enough time to order and receive delivery of the electronic transponder. We will be charged nine dollars and twenty-five cents.”
”Thank you for planning ahead as best as possible, Chris,” said Star, tucking her coin purse back into the compartment of her carrier.
”You’re welcome, of course of course,” said Chris. “We’ve saved twenty-five cents over the tiered system with a License Plate Account, One Time Payment of nine dollars and fifty cents and, even more so, we’ve saved a full dollar over the Toll Invoice of ten dollars and twenty-five cents.”
”A tiered system if ever there was one,” said Star. “Gosh, talk about paying a toll.”
The Serval sat quietly next to her, watching the Cityscape before them.
“Mr. Serval, does anything look familiar?” asked Star.
”I’m afraid not, Star.”
“Given your amnesia, do you suppose that you left your heart in San Francisco? Heartbreak can be quite traumatic, especially when coupled with a concussion,” surmised Star.
”If only I could remember, Star. If only. If only.” He clutched his chest.
Traffic slowed to a crawl and then gridlocked.
”Gosh, I spoke too soon about the well engineered speed control,” sighed Star, gazing out on the traffic. “Oh my goodness, some of these cars do not have drivers.”
”Correct, Star. They are fully automated automobiles.” Jasper Kitten tapped a white gloved paw on the steering wheel.
”Well, I much prefer having you at the wheel, Jasper Kitten.”
”Thank you, Star. Thank you very much.”
”You’re welcome!”
”Chris, tell me more about the transponder and license plate reading system, please,” mewed Jasper Kitten as they sat idling in their lane.
”Sure,” he said, pointing a toebean at the license plate of the car ahead of them by way of illustration.
“For example, if you do not have the electronic toll device, known in the vernacular as a transponder, which automatically records your vehicle when you go through the toll booth and which, furthermore and consequently, deducts the cost of the crossing from your payment account, then! Critters! A photo of your license plate will be taken. This identification will generate your name and your address and, I suspect, many other facets of your existence and identity, and thus! Voila! You will have to pay the toll. The end.”
”Does the transponder beep?” asked the Serval.
”Good question,” said Chris, “the older models beep, but the newer models are not battery operated and so they don’t beep. Full stop.”
”I see, thank you, Chris.”
”Mr. Serval, do you recall a beep on a bridge?” queried Star.
”I’m just not sure,” he shrugged.
”Chris, what happens if no toll account is established?” asked Jasper Kitten.
”Then your license plate is photographed and an invoice will be sent to your address, but it will cost you.”
”Thank you, Chris. That explanation is most edifying. If my instincts serve me correctly,” continued Jasper Kitten, “the possibility exists that the Big Rig might have crossed The Golden Gate Bridge or even one of the other bridges of the San Francisco Bay Area. There could be a treasure trove of data and identification in that case.”
”Excellent technological thinking,” said Chris. “I will look into it, Jasper Kitten.”
Jasper Kitten navigated across the City toward their lodgings in the Dogpatch Neighborhood.
”Gosh, so many of these streets are named after the States. I could almost arrange my West Coast to East Coast maps accordingly,” observed Star. “Texas, Mississippi and Pennsylvania and oh my goodness, we’re driving under the 280 freeway, and Indiana, Minnesota and Illinois.”
At last, after so many hours on the road from their Condo in the Wooded Valley, they were grateful to spot the small cottage.
”Gosh, another vibrant paint job,” admired Star. “Preservation Park Bench Green. And how original to 1906 is that.”
The Earthquake Shack sat back from the road, nestled between two dockside warehouses. Jasper Kitten pulled into the driveway and they proceeded to unpack the car, moving in to the historic tiny house, originally built after the devastating 1906 earthquake that had displaced thousands in San Francisco.
“Chris, you did amazingly well finding this short term rental online,” complimented Jasper Kitten.
“Thank you, Jasper Kitten,” said Chris. “Not only do we have off street parking, but we have a contemporary Catio addition to this historic Earthquake Shack.”
”That must have been quite a permit process with the City planning department,” replied Jasper Kitten.
He set his attaché case of evidence on the coffee table and double checked the locks, ensuring the security of the Treatise on Animal Magnetism, the Priority Envelope, the Haiku clues and the chrome plated bell.
”There’s no place like home,” said Jasper Kitten. “The Earthquake Shack checks a lot of boxes. Afterall, cats and canines really bond with where they live.”
“Critters, I learned a great deal from the online listing. Please, allow me to elaborate and pontificate,” said Chris.
“Please, by all means, we’re all ears,” said Star, nodding.
“ After the 1906 earthquake, in order to house an estimated 250,000 displaced people, San Francisco built many of these temporary homes in the Presidio. Then, as people bought lots in neighborhoods throughout the city, the Earthquake Shacks were moved and became permanent homes. Now, over a century later, we have our short term rental.”
“Is a short term rental similar to a short term memory?” asked the Serval.
”Not exactly,” said Jasper Kitten. “The first is temporary housing, the latter pertains to cognition and specifically to the ability to recall recent events.”
”Thank you, Jasper Kitten. I understand the difference now,” said the Serval, scratching his head.
”This historic tiny house feels so bespoke, Chris. It really has a vibe like our Condo in the Wooded Valley. It’s just perfect in every way as we further our investigations in San Francisco,” complimented Star as she gazed around the Shack.
“We definitely were lucky it was available, especially on short notice and with off street parking and the Catio. And check out the fridge!”
”And Mr. Serval,” said Star, “short notice is also in a separate category from a short term rental and a short term memory.”
”Oh, thank you, Star. That makes a lot of sense. Thank you very much.”
They stretched out on the Couch in the Catio, a welcome respite from the road. Chris supplied them with an array of snacks and a pitcher of Ginger Ale.
Water lapped at the docks in the distance. They inhaled the salt air filling the Catio, fragrant and calming.
”Mr. Serval, do you have enough room?” asked Star.
“Yes, thank you for your consideration,” replied the Serval. He extended his legs over the seat cushions, his toebeans gently resting on the edge of the coffee table.
”I’d sure like to explore the neighborhood before it gets dark,” said Jasper Kitten, hopping down from the Couch. “Would anyone care to join me on a walkabout of Dogpatch?”
They ambled into the hip neighborhood with its urban amenities, full of eateries and loft spaces mixed with an industrial Victorian history of ship building.
”Gosh, I feel like I’m stepping into pockets of the nineteenth century,” said Star as she padded along with her cinnamon brown paws. “Almost like a time warp.”
“It is most atmospheric,” agreed Jasper Kitten, looking toward the docks.
A wall of posters caught their attention and they stopped on the sidewalk, viewing the cultural and musical events, activities and ads. They were about to move on, but one poster stopped them in their tracks.
The bold letters confronted them.
”Missing!” read Jasper Kitten outloud. “At risk! Have you seen this Critter?”
The photo of a serval stared back at them.
”Gosh, this photo looks exactly like you, Mr. Serval!” exclaimed Star. ”Text or call Dock of the Bay Tipline if you have any information as to the whereabouts of this critter.”
”How curious. Why is there no reward offered?” murmured Jasper Kitten.
”Why, that’s a good question,” said Chris as a text message pinged on his phone.
”Mr. Serval,” said Star, “surely, your life is worth a reward!”
”Oh gosh, thank you Star, thank you very much,” said the Serval.
”I find this most suspicious,” cried Jasper Kitten. “My instincts tell me this could very well be a trap!”
”A trap!” cried Star.
”Critters!” cried Chris. “I have received a cryptic text message on my phone! The sender is blocked!”
”Read it to us at once, Chris!” Jasper Kitten swatted the poster with a white gloved paw.
“It’s! It’s another Haiku!”
Jasper Kitten, Chris, Star and the Serval all looked at the message that lit up the phone screen:
The fog will billow
orange kitten orange bridge
time to pay the toll
But when the Critters of the J Kitten, Sleuth & Purveyor of Bright Shiny Objects Detective Agency looked up again, the Serval, their Client, was nowhere in sight.
Notes:
Opening Image: Substack Comic Generator with the prompts “Golden Gate Bridge and Orange Cat”
Dog Patch Neighborhood, San Francisco
Photo Credit: Earthquake Shacks
Catch up with Chapters 1-4, The Case of The Misplaced Priority Envelope
I love the twist the story has taken, Heidi. Great to see the CwC crew on a road trip investigation. Looking forward to Chapter 6!
Great episode Heidi!
---
Have our sleuths been lured
to dock of the bay rental?
Suspicious Serval!
---