so he tried to sound very grown-up.
"Mypenrye! Never mind! It must be the ghost that comes around at night to pull our toes. He won't hurt us."
"Oh-h-h," wailed Malee, "let's call grandmother!"
"Don't forget that I'm a boy scout," Dang said stoutly. "I'm not afraid of any old ghost." Why, on his boy scout camping trip, Dang had learned how to deal with ferocious tigers. Besides, in Thai language, boy scout is "the son of a tiger."
He slowly put one bare foot down, then another, onto the smooth wooden floor.
Malee held her breath and buried her face in the pillow.
Click! In a moment, the bedroom was flooded with light as Dang found the switch and turned it on. He laughed with relief when he saw a surprised cat blinking back at him from the window sill.
"Hey!" he yelled. "It's only a cat."
Malee sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I'm a silly monkey to be afraid of a cat."
"This is a Children's Day surprise," Dang said, stroking the cat's cream-colored fur. "I wonder where it came from?"
Malee pattered over to the open window and gently touched the cat's silky paws. "Look, he's got brown paws, a brown face—and the tip of his tail is brown, too." Malee's cheeks were pink. She was smiling happily, and looked as pretty as a flower. That was why her parents had called her Malee. In Thai, it means "flower."
"I've always wanted a cat." Malee said wistfully. "Do you think we can keep it?"
Dang thoughtfully ran a tanned hand through his black hair.
"I guess so. That is, if it's all right with the family."
A voice came from the doorway.
"My goodness! A cat like that has been someone's pet, yes indeed!"
Their grandmother walked slowly into the room and sat on Malee's bed. Her wrinkled face was full of smiles. She called to the cat the way they do in Thailand, "Here, kitty—meow-meow-meow-meow-meow!"
The strange cat gracefully jumped down and rubbed his back against her ankle, purring loudly.
"You know, children," she said, bending down to pet him, "this is no ordinary cat. . . no plain, run-of-the-city cat."
"It isn't?" Malee asked, her eyes big and round. "Tell us, Yahee, is it bewitched?" Her grandmother chuckled.
"Maybe yes. . . and maybe no! One thing is certain: it has all the markings of a royal cat!"
"Royal cat!" Dang and Malee exclaimed.
"Of course! In the first place, all royal cats are Siamese. And this handsome fellow is Siamese."
Malee thought the cat looked like all the other cats that prowled around the klong.
"How can you tell it's a Siamese cat?" she wanted to know.
"A Siamese cat has that lovely cream color with chocolate brown markings. Its eyes are as blue as the skies over Thailand, and it is the only cat in the world that can smile."
"Does that make him a royal cat?" asked Dang suspiciously. He wondered if his grandmother was spinning another one of her yarns.
Yahee's kindly eyes twinkled. "No, it doesn't." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "There's only one sure way to tell. . . and that's by his tail. All royal cats have crooked tails!"
Dang didn't quite believe his grandmother, but he couldn't help staring at the tail that gently swished back and forth.
"I think I see a little kink in it," Malee said hopefully. "What about the crooked tail? What does it mean?" She cuddled down in bed, waiting for the story.
Dang hopped into his bed. He was sure there was no such thing as a royal cat but he was too polite to say so.
The old lady picked up the cat and held him on her lap as she talked in a low, sweet voice.
"A long time ago, when Thailand was known as 'The Land of the White Elephant,' only very important people could own Siamese cats. Some of these beautiful cats lived in the palace with the royal family. They were pets, but they worked hard, too. They guarded the royal jewels. Siamese cats are smarter than watchdogs."
The cat winked and said, "Meow!"
"He agrees with me," Grandmother gravely remarked.
Malee giggled and Yahee went on with her story.
"These cats would take turns watching the chest that held the Queen's jewels. It wasn't left alone for a moment. The cat that sat up all night always curled his tail around one leg of the chest, in case he happened to take a cat nap. If a thief sneaked in and touched that chest—why!—the cat set up such a howling din that all the guards in the palace came running!"
"Do you think this cat guarded the royal jewels?" Malee asked, squirming with delight at the thought.
"They don't use cats now," Dang said, grinning at his young sister's foolish question. "Valuable things are kept in steel boxes with heavy locks on them, aren't they, Yahee?"
"That's right," she nodded her gray head. "But when I was a young girl like Malee, they didn't use steel boxes. Royal cats were just as good.
"Every royal cat got a permanent loop in his tail from winding it around the leg of the jewel chest," she continued. "All his children and their children were born with crooked tails."
"Do you suppose our cat came from the royal palace?" asked Malee.
"Maybe yes, and maybe no," Yahee said in her mysterious way. "Here, you take the cat and have another sleep while I prepare breakfast." She was always the first one to get up every morning and say her prayers before the statue of Buddha that sat on a high shelf in the living room. Then she made breakfast.
Malee put the cat on her pillow and watched Yahee quietly glide from the room, turning off the light as she went.
"I'm sure the cat will bring us good luck," she said, "and I bet he is a royal cat, don't you?"
"I don't know," mumbled Dang. "Fairy tales aren't true."
"It isn't a fairy tale," Malee said in a firm voice. She looked deeply into the cat's brilliant blue eyes. "Tell me, are you a royal cat?"
The cat purred huskily, "Thrr-rr-rr. Thrr-rr-rr."
In the dusky morning light, he looked as if he had a secret. And he did.
Chapter Two
