Sydney the barn cat sat silently watching the proceedings inside the house, face clouded over with apathy, tail swishing from side to side. Her bright yellow unblinking eyes took in everything; and after ten minutes of silent vigil, she turned without warning and, jumping off the old crates (which served as her vantage point), she dashed across the moonlit yard towards the ancient wooden barn.

  Breaking into a trot as she neared the great, garish red-painted doors, she peered from side to side suspiciously. Upon reaching the doors, she lifted a white paw and sang out a morose meow. Slowly, the door creaked open and a gentle, brown eye peeked out.

"Sydney? Is that you? Well, come on in, honey! We were just talking about you!"

It was Sarabeth, the milk cow. She invitingly pushed the door open all the way. The horses, Hattie, Gertie, and Firefly, turned curiously to watch the tabby cat. Sydney lazily licked a front paw, then daintily trotted into the barn, past Brandun the donkey, Bessie and Lulu (Sarabeth's sisters), and Morgan and Ella, the goats. Basking in the attention all the animals were bestowing upon her, she painted a smug face on and sat doing nothing at all for a full minute while the animals stared expectantly at her. Finally she spoke.

 "It's nothing, really. Nothing at all. It's only a birthday party."

 "A birthday party? For who?"

 "Oh, I don't know." She performed an I-could-not-care-less-so-I-don't-know-why-you-do head toss.

 "Oh, come on!" coaxed Ella. "This is for you, if you tell us." The female goat nudged forward a bowl of milk. Sydney noticed the milk appreciatively, then turned back to the rest of the animals.

 "All right. The party is for Jackie, you know, Mr. Hill's daughter? She's ten years old."

 "Ten years!" giggled Brandun. "Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Ten years! And she's just a kid. We're only three years and we're old!"

 Sydney gave him a Look. "Years are different for the..." and this she said with obvious disdain..."..humans. Anyway, none of this really matters to me. In fact, I only watched because Gertie and Hattie asked me to," she finished airily.

 "Go on, sugar. Is that all?" inquired Sarabeth.

 "Not hardly! Hill really went all out this year. Old Jackie got a doll, two video games...Video games! Imagine! And....best of all...." and here she paused..."..a kitten."

 "A kitten?" repeated Firefly in obvious disbelief. "What does she want a kitten for?"

 "Well, I think it's obvious! Jackie wants a kitten to...to...kill the rats that live in her bed!" Sydney answered quickly, indignant.

 "There are rats living in her bed? Is that true?" Gertie sat stupidly, open-mouthed. "Rats are disgusting!"

 "Hey!" replied several squeaky voices from the corner.

 "No offense," said Gertie quietly.

 "Why does she want a kitten? After all, she could play with you," pointed out Bessie.

 Sydney appeared astonished. "I? Play with a human...a child, no less? I for one consider myself to be above that sort of degradation."

 "What do those words mean?" mumbled Gertie.

 "Okay, I think that's enough. Sydney's told us plenty. Give her the milk, Ella," concluded Hattie.

 While Sydney lapped the milk in the corner, feeling very self-satisfied and pleased, the other animals discussed it.

 "Is Sydney going to be replaced?" queried Lulu. "I mean, why else would they have a kitten?"

 "Well, Sydney doesn't think much of humans," shrugged Morgan. "Maybe this will be a house cat, not a mouser like Syd."

 "Ah ha ha ha ha! House cat! That's silly! Think about a house shaped like a cat? Or maybe a cat the size of a house! Ah ha ha ha ha!"

 "It's not nearly as funny as you think it is, Brandun," Firefly said quietly to the hyper donkey.

 "Sydney's not going to be replaced, and that's that," said Hattie, trying to change the subject.

 "Well, kids, it's been real, but I think it's time we all hit the sack," Bessie yawned.

So they did.


 Meanwhile, inside the house, Jackie was rejoicing in all her presents and stuffing her face with cake. "What'll I name him? How about Fluffy? Or Cutie Pie? Or Thusneldo? The possibilities are just endless," she gushed.

 "I don't know," replied her good-natured mother. "You'll think of something."

 While Jackie set up one of her video games, the kitten jumped on to the counter and looked out the window. He could see the barn in the distance. He knew there was someone in there--another cat, at least, but maybe more animals. He had seen the cat  watching before, then leave and go into the barn. Who was she? What was going on in the barn? He could see shapes moving around in the darkness, and he could faintly hear them talking to one another. He couldn't pick out words, though. The kitten's thoughts were interrupted as Jackie lifted him heavily and dropped him in her lap. He decided he'd think about it in the morning and settled down, purring.

 Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. The sun was shining merrily in spite of the crisp temperature, and Jackie was up immediately, watching cartoons. Her kitten, who had just that morning been christened Louie, had tired of the mindless cartoons Jackie liked and was staring out the window again at the frost-covered barn, waiting for something to happen. He wanted to go out there.

 Inside said barn, most of the animals were just waking up. Sydney stretched and purred for no reason in particular and then started to saunter towards the doors. Sleepily, Bessie opened the door for her, but the barn was greeted by a blast of cold air. Sarabeth and Bessie shut the doors immediately. Ella concluded that it was a cold front.

 "So we're stuck in the barn for today, folks," groaned Bessie. "Oh well. Might as well make the best of it. Hill will be out here soon with food for us."

 "Mmmmm," said Firefly hungrily, licking his lips. "Hot oats."

 Brandun giggled for no apparent reason. Sydney looked a bit shocked and disappointed at being stuck in the barn, but none of the other animals seemed to notice.  Morgan was in the corner, silently conferencing with Brandun. Gertie was gossiping mindlessly with Hattie, whose glazed-over eyes seemed to be fixed on the rafters.

 "All right, everyone!" Hill opened the doors with a flourish and startled the horses. Ella looked up, but Morgan didn't even appear to notice that the farmer had come in and didn't stop his discussion. "Boy, it's a cold one, ain't it?" Hill had a habit of chatting with the animals, and he continued as he rubbed his hands together and got down a bag of oats. He poured some warm water from a large jug he had brought in and mixed it with the oats for the horses, goats, cows, and Brandun's feed. He poured some tuna chunks from a can into Sydney's dish. She tried not to look at it and succeeded in ignoring Mr. Hill and her food for about five seconds before digging in greedily. Soon all the animals were chomping down happily, except Morgan, who had gulped his food as quickly as he could and was still talking in low tones with Brandun, who gave an understanding nod once in a while as he munched his donkey food.

 As soon as Hill left the barn, Morgan and Brandun trotted to the doors as quickly as they could, nudged them open and ran off before the other animals could ask where they were going. Sydney slithered out after them before the doors swang shut.

 She didn't follow Morgan and Brandun, like all the animals thought she was doing. Indeed, she didn't really care where they were going. However, it was easier for her to do what she wanted if the other animals didn't know what she was doing--less questions that way, and that's the way she wanted it for this particular activity. In truth, she was curious about the new kitten. She wanted to watch him and find out exactly what he was for, but if she wanted to maintain the illusion to the animals that she didn't care about what went on concerning the humans, she couldn't allow them to know that that was exactly what she did (and had always done). Sydney shivered in the cold and jumped on the crates, huddled next to the house for what little shelter the narrow outcropping of the roof offered, and stared in the window. To her shock, the kitten was staring back at her. Surprised, she jumped and slipped off the crate, landing none too gracefully on her backside. Hurriedly climbing to her feet, she wandered around the back of the house and found a bit of warmth emanating from the heating vent. She proceeded to lie down on it and stay there for the rest of the day. After all, she couldn't go back to the barn without news on Morgan and Brandun, and she couldn't have that kitten watching her.

  Louie had puzzled over why she'd run away like that, but still couldn't come up with a satisfactory explanation. He wanted to go outside and find her so he could ask her, but all his requests to go outside were ignored by Jackie and Mrs. Hill. Finally Jackie told him that he couldn't go out because it was cold and he was just a kitten, and besides, he had a litter box for that. Frustrated, Louie finally settled for watching the mindless Saturday morning drivel.

 Off in the very corner of the pasture, the extreme edge of the Hills' property, Morgan and Brandun were still talking.

 "We will construct a piece of modern art," Morgan was explaining. "It will have a meaning to it, a meaning so deep that no one will ever be able to figure it out. While the Hills are trying to figure out what it means, we will go into the house and take over the farm!"

 "What'll we make it out of?" Brandun queried.

"I found these," Morgan replied, and lifted up three old saddles, a crate of mulch from the pine tree that had been chopped down, and two coils of wire that Hill used for repairs. "Along with proper enhancements such as paints, flowers, and old sacks, we should be able to make the most meaningful sculpture that man has ever even imagined."

 "What kind of meaning will it have, Morgan?" Brandun asked.

 "Oh, but that's just the smartest part. There won't be a meaning. It will just be so incredibly abstract that everyone will know it must have a meaning, but they won't ever be able to figure it out!!"

 "Ingenious!! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!"

 Three weeks later, things had warmed up considerably. Sydney still hadn't managed to learn anything good about Louie, Morgan and Brandun had continued disappearing for extended lengths of time, and the other animals were still under the impression that Sydney was spending her time finding out what Morgan and Brandun were up to. To keep them thinking this, Sydney made up stories about what Morgan and Brandun were doing. Of course they all believed her, but Bessie was a bit skeptical as to why Morgan and Brandun had gotten part-time jobs at something called a "fast food joint" (which Sydney knew about from staring at the TV from the windowsill). After Sydney had explained to him about fast food, Brandun still couldn't get over how funny it was that they were called "French fries." He would laugh for hours on end and make such hilarious comments as "What if they were called Spanish fries? Or English fries? Ah ha ha ha ha ha!" Even though it was he the rumors were about, Brandun didn't seem to notice this and continued in his merriment.

 Finally, a very important day occurred. On this day, Louie had managed to slip outside. Brandun had moved on to laughing about why they were known as hamburgers if they weren't made out of ham. And, mysteriously yet quietly, a huge modern sculpture had appeared on the front lawn overnight.

 Louie slipped around the house and came upon Sydney. She nearly fainted at seeing him, and ran off towards the barn. He followed her as fast as he could shouting after her, "Wait!"

 The Hills had all come out to the lawn and were staring at the sculpture. A plaque underneath it read, in scrawling but legible letters, 'A Deeep Peese of Moddern Art'. As Mrs. Hill scratched her head and Jackie and Mr. Hill stared blankly at it, a goat and a donkey silently but quickly entered the house.

 Sydney by this time had reached the barn, but Louie was not far behind. She urgently got Sarabeth to let her in and tried to close the door, but Louie managed to get in earshot before the door was shut. Sarabeth heard his shout. "Well, who are you, honeypot? Come on in!" Out of breath, Louie entered the barn in amazement and stared at the other animals.

 Firefly sniggered. Louie introduced himself.

 "Are you the one that kills the rats in beds?" Gertie asked with genuine curiosity.

 "Of course he's not. Now let's talk about something else," Hattie interjected.

 "What else? You never want to talk about anything," complained the simple horse.

 "Well, I don't know. But we shouldn't be talking about this."

 Sydney was sulking in the corner, but grudgingly shook paws with the kitten when it came her turn to say hello. Surprisingly, Sydney and Louie hit it off. After the first few small meows, Louie had commented on how Sydney did so many important things and was obviously the most indispensable animal on the farm. After that the conversation took off, as this was a topic that Sydney was all too willing to talk about. The kitten had been satisfied at last, and he went off towards the house. As Louie was about to enter the house, he heard a shriek.

 "Why is there a donkey in my kitchen?!" That was Mrs. Hill.

 "What in Sam Hill are you doing in here, Morgan?? Come on, clear out!"

 "Mo-om, Brandun is trying to eat my pillow...!!"

 Two minutes later, Morgan and Brandun were ushered outdoors. Sulking, they walked towards the barn. Louie, and Sydney, who had followed him out, asked them what they were doing.

 "We...made that sculpture for the Hills' enjoyment," supplied Morgan. "And we were going to clean the house for them too, for a surprise, but they came in too quickly."

 "We were cleaning the toaster! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!"

 "What kind of abstract sculpture is that anyway, Morgan?" inquired Sydney, her tone dripping snootiness. "It doesn't look so enjoyable at all to me and not very meaningful either."

 The other animals had come out now too. "It doesn't even look like anything," commented Gertie, somewhat stupidly.

 Morgan and Brandun did not know what to say.

 Suddenly, Ella gave a gasp of enlightenment and began speaking. "Of course it's meaningful! Observe....the sharp twists of the wires...symbolizing inner turmoil and eternal agony...and just look at the sporadic sprinklings of the bits of hay and mulch, symbolizing sudden changes in nature's course...the unexpectedness of whatever life throws at you...how can you not catch the meaning?"

 "What do those words mean?" Asked Gertie, turning to Firefly.

 As the afternoon faded into sunset, the animals one by one wandered off to the barn, leaving at last only Brandun and Morgan.

 "Well, it didn't work," said Brandun glumly, or as glumly as the inordinately exuberant donkey could ever manage.

 "No," agreed Morgan. "But tomorrow's another night."

 "What are we going to do tomorrow night, Morgan?"

 "The same thing we do every night, Brandun. Try to take over the farm!"

 "Yup!! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!"

 The last rays of the sun were extinguished and night fell over the barn like a smothering blanket. All was quiet. The stars twinkled merrily and expectantly, welcoming whatever the next day would bring.

THE END