Annie Evans

Sebastian, A Black Cat Tale

Sebastian is a word-loving feline whose barn mates include a depressed rooster, a speed demon thoroughbred and their twelve-year old human Deidre. When a boy lures them into a pre-industrial world where all creatures speak the same language, Sebastian learns that a Sorceress and her followers desperately need his black cat skills to help fight a usurping General.

When Deidre is captured, Sebastian must find his inner hero and rescue her while fighting the urge to eat the mouse army. Their many adventures culminate in a grueling, booby-trapped horse race, which they must win in order to return his companions safely home.

Literary Agent:
Liz Nealon, Great Dog Literary
email: liz@greatdogliterary.com
phone: 917-207-8703

Read an Excerpt

Full Synopsis

Sebastian, a black cat, is content to earn his keep catching mice and riding through the woods with his companions – a 12 year old human named Deidre, her ex-race horse and a depressed rooster. Everything changes when a boy on a white horse kidnaps him into a pre-industrial world and his friends follow in hot pursuit.

In this new world, all creatures speak the same language thanks to a benevolent Sorceress who believes in the Oneness of all beings. Sebastian, ever a witty kitty, loves speaking his mind, but this world is too dangerous for Deidre. A General has overthrown the Sorceress and murdered all the black cats leaving her without a helper. Her followers live in exile in the mountains guarded by bears and raccoons but always on the run. While empathetic to these troubles, Sebastian rejects the request by the boy Otter and the Sorceress to become the new helper. He only wants to get his companions safely home, until the General’s soldiers raid their camp and capture Deidre and Henry the rooster. Desperate to rescue them, Sebastian joins forces with the Sorceress and her rebels despite being reluctant to embrace her ways of Uniwasa – universal harmony. He also must listen to the Sorceress talking in his head now that he is her official helper. He travels with Otter into the heart of General Towne to hook up with the Cat Resistance who has a lead on Henry the Rooster’s whereabouts. Guided by the Sorceress, Sebastian announces himself to the General at the rooster-fighting arena and successfully gets thrown into the dungeons. With the help of a brave inchworm and mouse army, they execute a daring rescue of Deidre and other resistance members.

But the General foils their escape, surrounding them in the town square. Their fate seems sealed when Deidre’s horse Winny challenges the General, saying she and Otter’s horse Magnus can beat him and his team in his infamous eight-legged horse race – where two horses are tied together by a string and run a steeplechase-style race. The General accepts the challenge, agreeing to release them if they win. But everyone knows the General cheats and they are banned from the field until race time. Sebastian and the resistance animals must find and disarm booby traps while the race is in progress. It’s a grueling dash for their freedom by Deidre, Otter, Winny and Magnus galloping in perfect unison. Avoiding traps and clearing every obstacle, the two teams are neck and neck in the final stretch when the General pulls a pistol out to stop them but it gets knocked out of his hand. The companions win, but the General reneges on his promise to let them go. This angers the town folk, giving them the courage to stand up to him. Their bravery grants the Sorceress enough power to magically return and remind the town of Uniwasa and the fact they don’t have to live in fear of a tyrant. The town rises against the soldiers allowing Sebastian and friends time to escape. The Sorceress reopens the portal home and the companions return safely to their barn. Just as Sebastian is curling up to sleep, he hears the Sorceress say “Hello.”

X

Let us begin…

Greetings, human beings. My name is Sebastian and I am a black cat.

Cats are not usually storytellers. Most of us prefer a solitary patch of warm sunlight, sixteen-hour naps and our meals served in porcelain bowls away from the family dog. But ever since I was a kitten, I could understand words. I thought all animals did. But as you will learn in this adventure, black cats have a particular gift of language. No wonder we are often paired with witches in fairy tales, or have silly superstitions written about us, like if we cross your path it is bad luck. I promise, dear reader, nothing bad will happen if I mosey in front of you!

Human words have always fascinated me. My back arches with pleasure whenever I hear words like discombobulated or flibbertigibbet. So, when it came time to record this story for posterity, my companions voted that I dictate our tale. Deidre, my human, will have to put this into written form, since one cannot type with paws. But we do have to hurry before I lose my power of speech – yes, you read correctly. I can speak. But alas, this gift may soon leave me, so onward with our story.

I get three companions

Our tale begins on a beach where I lived the first five of my designated nine lives. During this juvenile period, I was what humans rudely call feral. In reality, I was simply roughing it. If I had wanted a permanent home, I can purr, leg rub and lap kneed with the best of my species. I just had not found the right human. I survived by hunting, digging up saltwater treats and dumpster diving before the humongous truck took away the leftovers. Oh, that is another good word – humongous! It even sounds big! But I digress. Be warned, I do that often.

In my sixth life, a skinny, eleven-year old girl named Deidre rescued me from stone throwing teenagers near an abandoned fishing shed.

“Leave him alone!” she had screamed, charging up the ramp on her thoroughbred, sending the hooligans scattering. The courageous horse leapt right onto the collapsing porch, her sleek, bold head held high.

“Yeah, right, who’s brave now!” Deidre called after the lowlifes. “How about a few hoof prints on your behinds before you go?”

She hopped out of the saddle and cautiously approached me as I hid under some cracked boards. “It’s okay, you can come out. Those nasty boys are gone.” She held out her index finger. I slid out into the open and slowly rubbed my nose along it. Her dirty, dry finger smelled like a horse and I loved it. I loved her. I let her pick me up, and for the first time, I truly understood the word home. I felt at home in Deidre’s arms.

“I bet you have some stories to tell, eh, tough guy?” she asked, stroking my fur.

I most certainly did. I had seen ancient creatures crawl out of the sea to lay their eggs and huge mammals leap into the air, flapping their tails like a kitten playing with a feather. But since I could only “meow,” I allowed myself to purr, the international cat expression of happiness. Deidre smiled down at me and scratched behind my ears. Want to put a cat in a trance? Scratch behind his ears!

“Brrrrrkkk!” A rooster’s dinosaur eyeball suddenly glared at me a few inches from my nose. His three-pronged legs stuck out straight from a baby carrier hanging in front of Deidre.

“This is Henry.” She rubbed the rooster’s bright, red comb. “Be nice to him. He lost his hens to a fox a few months ago and he’s still depressed about it.”

Henry let out a long, involved series of clucks that I figured meant something like, “it was horrible, I tried to stop him, I almost died, my heart is broken…”

“This rooster is a talker,” I thought.

For the record, non-humans are excellent at figuring out what we are trying to say to each other, even without words. Nature is always communicating. You just need to pay attention.

“Are you good at catching mice?” Deidre asked. “Our barn needs a good mouser.”

I gave her an obvious stare that said, “Excellent, of course. How else do you think I survived these last six lives?”

“I’ll take that stare as a “yes.” She placed me in the crook of her arm and swung back into the saddle. Henry let out another series of clucks that I knew meant, “Move over, I ride in front.”

Not wanting to cause a fuss, I hopped back onto the thoroughbred’s hindquarters. She did a few, quick steps in place, unsure if she liked my paws on her backside.

“Relax, Winny. We’re adopting a cat. His name is…”

I really did not want to end up being called “Fluffy,” “Spooky,” or any other cutesy cat name. I already had a name given to me by my mother before she and my siblings disappeared into a van with the letters “A-N-I-M-A-L C-O-N-T-R-O-L.” I focused hard on Deidre and thought, “Sebastian. Sebastian. Sebastian.”

“…Sebastian,” said Deidre. “His name is Sebastian, everybody. He’s our new barn mate.”

At that time, I was unaware that black cats could focus their thoughts and connect with a human that way. I was just grateful not to be “Midnight” for the rest of my life.

From that day forward, I dedicated the rest of my lives to Deidre. Any human who would barrel on horseback into stone-throwing battle to rescue a mangy cat deserved my forever fealty. With Deidre came two other companions: Henry the depressed Rhode Island Red Rooster and a speed obsessed, ex-racehorse named Winny.