Coraline: A New Enemy? Part 4

“Breakfast!” Wybie’s grandmother called. He looked up from a picture he had been sketching. “Just a minute!” he shouted. Quickly, he looked at the black and white tarantula that was hanging in his window and drew in the eyes of it on his sketch. “Perfect.” he whispered to the spider with a grin. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen, almost knocking over the chair as he sat down.
“Why in such a hurry?” his grandmother asked.
“No reason.” Wybie replied. He wolfed down a few bites of cereal.
“Wybourn, there’s always a reason when you’re rushing. Now what’s wrong?”
“I...Wanted to find Coraline. She’s missing, you know.”
She nodded. “Alright, but sit up straight, won’t you? You’re going to be stuck like that.”
He sat up, almost a foot taller.
“Thank you. That’s much better.” she smiled. “Now finish your breakfast and you can go looking for your friend.”
Wybie immediately began devouring the rest of the cereal. By the time his grandmother turned around, he was out the door, his bowl completely empty. “That boy.” she laughed.
The morning air was frigid and full of the low-lying fog that was a fairly common sight in the mornings. The cat was standing a ways away, only its head poking out of the fog.
“Alright, cat. Where do we look first?” he asked it. It led him around to the side of the house, but stopped dead. Wybie knew why. Right in front of him was Miss Spink and her three yipping little black terriers.
“Hello Wybourn.” she said. “How are you this fine morning?”
“Great, Miss.” Wybie replied. “You haven’t seen Coraline, have you?”
“Oh, no. I heard her mother is dreadfully worried though.” she muttered. “Are you looking for her?”
“Yeah.” Wybie said.
“Well, I did tell her she was in danger a few days ago. It was terrible danger, I said. But I had thought her problems, whatever they were, had passed since then. Good luck, anyhow.”
“Thanks.” Wybie said, and took off toward the garden. It was empty. She was not behind any trees, bushes, or shrubs, and she certainly was not in any of the better hiding spots. Wybie knew them all. He dashed off, the cat right behind him, and looked near the well. Nobody was there, either. “So, cat?” Wybie muttered. “Where would she be?”
The cat paced over to the well. Oddly enough, it was completely clear of dirt and dust, as if somebody had opened it recently. Carefully, Wybie slid it off and peered inside.
It was too dark to see anything, but there was definitely something wrong. He put his mask back on, turning on a light he had put in for bug hunting. The bottom of the well was a long ways down, but it was slightly visible. And completely empty.
The key and the hand were both gone.
He took off toward Coraline’s apartment.

Lucky for him, the front door was left unlocked. Wybie and the cat snuck inside, past the kitchen, and into the living room. The tiny door was closed. Wybie slowly opened it, and a tunnel expanded through to the other side. He took a deep breath, crouched, and crawled inside.
“So, apparently we’re going to save the damsel in distress?” a voice said behind him. It was the cat. Wybie stopped and gaped.
“What, you’ve never seen a cat before?”
“Not one that talks.” he replied. “That’s against at least three laws of science.”
“Cats can meow, though, can’t they? We meow and think and talk. You talk to me, so why can’t I reply?”
“Because cats don’t have the intellect or the vocal cords to speak English.”
“I find that rather insulting.” the cat muttered, and turned around.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Away, since you don’t need me.”
Wybie thought a moment. “Okay, look, let’s just forget that whole speech thing, okay? You can obviously talk. Besides, who feeds you every night?”
The cat turned back around and walked up to Wybie. “I suppose. The food is rather good.”
They reached the other door, and it opened to reveal almost the same room they had just left. With a gulp he looked around. The only differences between this room and the other, real room were the windows and the picture of a happy little boy with ice cream.
He explored further. “Coraline was right about all this stuff.”
“Didn’t you believe her?” the cat laughed.
“Yeah, but I thought she might’ve been exaggerating the details. I didn’t believe...”
“No one believes. If I tell you mice are delicious, would you really believe they were delicious?” it interrupted.
“Well, no, but...”
“If I told you cats don’t have names, would you believe I am never called by a name?”
“I didn’t...”
“If I told you there was another version of you in this house, would you believe me?”
“This is just getting silly.” Wybie snapped. “I call you ‘Cat’ every day. And why would that creepy ‘Other Mother’ lady make another me? It’s obvious I get on Coraline’s nerves more than anyone else.”
The cat shook its head and began to clean its paws. Wybie turned to the mantel, where a variety of snow globes identical to Coraline’s sat. And one black, shining button. He picked it up. It had a sort of glisten to it, as if it was meant for him. As if he should keep it safe. “What did she say the buttons were for, again?” he asked the cat.
“Well, the Other Mother has buttons for eyes. I believe they are used for other things too, though.”
“Oh.” Wybie replied.
“Why?”
“No reason.” he closed his fist around it. “We’d better go find Coraline.”
With that, he and the cat dashed down the empty hall and out the front door.