The Khat Who Became a Hero 1

Khat Goes AWOL

If you’re a reader of the Pecan Springs mysteries, you may remember Khat, the Siamese shop cat at China Bayles’ Thyme & Seasons herb shop. Khat appears in Thyme of Death, the first book in the series, where he originally belongs to one of China’s customers. This is the first of five episodes of Khat’s story, reimagined and much expanded from a shorter story-sketch that appears in An Unthymely Death and Other Garden Mysteries (2002). The story includes extras (at the end) that take you deeper into the story, the writing process, and its literary context.

It was a gray, drizzly Tuesday afternoon outside, but inside Thyme & Seasons, the air was sweet and lavender-scented. Soft music was coming through the open door of Ruby Wilcox’s adjacent Crystal Cave, Ruby’s favorite: lilting flutes and a Celtic harp. China Bayles had hung a dozen cheerful dried-chili ristras on the walls and she was about to shelve a box of  newly-arrived books on aromatherapy and herbal adaptogens, two topics that customers were asking for these days.

Every now and then, as she looked around her shop, China had the feeling that her life was entirely complete. A wonderful husband, two children, work she enjoyed in a business of her own, a quiet life in a pleasant small town. What more could anybody want?

Except that something was definitely missing this morning, and she was beginning to worry about him. Khat’s kitty bowl was full of his low-cal kitty food, his catnip mouse was napping peacefully in the corner, and his red velvet pillow was waiting on the window sill. Khat himself was absent.

Khat K’o-Kung

Khat—a stately Siamese who looks out on the world with an air of imperial authority and an inviolable dignity—is Top Cat at Thyme & Seasons. He wears a fawn-colored coat with luxurious taupe trim, sable sleeves and paws, a pair of impressive ebony ears, and a royal tail that darkens to café noir at the tip. Depending on his mood, his eyes are an electric blue or the gentle azure of a benign sky.

Before he came to live at Thyme & Seasons, Khat made his home with a customer of the herb shop who had the misfortune to die under mysterious circumstances. Finding himself alone in the world, he moved into the shop and announced that he was devoting his life to making sure that the Boss Lady (China Bayles) understood the rules. Cats’ rules. Don’t disturb while napping. I live here—you’re just visiting. Stroke, do not rub. And so forth. If you live with cats, I’m sure you understand their rules, too.

At the time, China could take cats or leave them (preferably the latter), but her wishes apparently didn’t count for much. When Khat makes up his mind on a subject, no mere fallible human can dispute him. China did, however, insist on changing his name. His deceased owner had called him Pudding, which didn’t suit this regal, aloof Siamese, who always wore an air of mystery.

But nothing fitting came to mind, and she fell into the habit of calling him simply Cat, or The Cat, to which he did not object. Ruby amended this to Khat, or rather Khat K’o-Kung, in honor of Kao K’o-Kung, the talented Siamese cat-sleuth in the famous Cat Who mysteries, which you have probably read. Ruby, a right-brain intuitive who teaches classes on astrology, tarot, and the I Ching, insists that all cats—the familiars of witches and symbols of instinctual energy, mystery, and magic—are psychic, but that Khat got an extra dose.

“It’s all in the whiskers,” she explained to China. “Khat has almost twice as many as ordinary cats, and they’re thicker. They function like radar and sonar, you know. They help him see and hear things we can’t. I believe he’s an old soul,” she added thoughtfully, “even for a cat. He’s inhabited more lives than we can count. More than nine, I’m sure.”

Since China is a left-brain linear thinker and trained as a lawyer, the idea that this isn’t Khat’s first rodeo is a bit . . . well, uncomfortable. But she took Ruby’s word for it, which she usually does because Ruby is usually right. And anyway, who’s to say who’s right or wrong on a question like that? Who’s got the proof? I certainly don’t, and you don’t either, so we’ll accept Ruby’s explanation and get on with our story.

So this is how it happens that, every morning, China unlockes the door, steps inside, and Khat, his purr at full throttle, wraps himself around her ankles. If she is even a minute late, she finds him waiting impatiently on the front step, charcoal tail looped around four charcoal feet, blue eyes registering displeasure at her dismal lack of punctuality. Next stop, breakfast, and just a little extra liver, please, to make up for your tardiness.

This morning, she was two minutes late. But Khat wasn’t waiting on the step or in the shop or the tea room or next door, in Ruby’s Crystal Cave. And he wasn’t around all day, doing what he normally does: patrolling the shop, tutoring customers on how to pay their respects to a cat of great distinction, and making sure that China performs her tasks as required.

She wasn’t worried at first. Khat is an inquisitive, adventurous cat and enjoys a daily saunter around the neighborhood. But now it was almost time to close. She was concerned.

“Here’s the menu for the Football Moms’ lunch, China.” It was Cass, who manages the kitchen at Thyme for Tea, the tea room that China and Ruby opened a few years ago behind the shops. Blonde and energetic, Cass also handles their subscription meal program, the Thymely Gourmet.

“Looks great,” China said approvingly. The menu included Cass’s spinach and carrot quiche, a favorite, and something called “Caprese Salad with Bocconcini.” China was familiar with the salad—tomatoes, basil, mint, with Cass’s signature balsamic dressing. But bocconcini?

“Little mozzarella balls,” Cass explained. “Marinated in olive oil and basil vinegar, with red pepper flakes, minced rosemary and thyme.” She looked smug. “A gourmet touch, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a little too gourmet for the Football Moms?” China suggested. Most of the football moms wear cowboy boots and drive pickup trucks. Some are probably open-carry. Like it or not, this is Texas.

“We have to raise their standards,” Cass replied reasonably. “Otherwise, we might as well send them over to Lila’s Diner for cheeseburgers and onion rings. Or Beans’ Bar and Grill, for goat fajitas.” She frowned. “I’d better give Cavette’s Market a call, though. Those cheese balls may be a little hard for Mr. Cavette to find.”

China handed the menu back to her. “Speaking of being hard to find, have you seen Khat? He didn’t show up to help me open this morning.”

Cass shook her head. “Not a sign of him all day. I baked a tray of his favorite salmon-and-sweet-potato biscatti, thinking the scent would bring him running.” She made a sad face. “But no Khat. And now he’s missed both breakfast and dinner. Poor kitty, he’ll starve.”

“Not for a few months yet,” China said wryly. Khat tops the scale at nineteen pounds, and although they feed him low-cal cat food and monitor his biscatti consumption, he is . . . well, substantial. A missed meal or two won’t hurt him. “But it would be nice if he’d check in. Suppose he’s been hit by a car? Or climbed a tree and can’t figure out how to get down.”

“He does love to go adventuring,” Cass agreed. “But I’m sure he’ll show up tonight. You know how he feels about his work.”

China knows. Khat might be Top Shop Cat during the daytime, but at night, he becomes a junk yard dog—as one startled Pecan Springs police officer discovered when he thought he saw somebody lurking in the shadows of the hops arbor behind the shop after midnight. Khat launched himself off the arbor and sank his sharp claws into the cop’s shoulder.  

Trespassers, beware.

Thyme & Seasons is patrolled by The Attack Khat Who Takes His Work Seriously.

A Note from Me

The story behind this story goes back several decades.

When the China Bayles mysteries moved to Berkley Books in the early 1990s, I had the privilege of working with Natalee Rosenstein, the senior editor of the Prime Crime imprint. She was also the editor who discovered Lilian Jackson Braun’s Cat Who mysteries.

The Cat Who books were quite different from the then-popular hard-boiled mysteries: they had no violence or profanity, and they featured intelligent animals who helped solve the mystery. This is old-hat now, but back in the day, mysteries were still very noir and bloody and cats were just cats. Natalee told me she loved Lilian’s books but it took her a while to figure out what genre they belonged to. The Cat Who “ultimately created a whole new chapter in the American mystery,” she said.

Which is true. Lilian’s well-intentioned characters, clever cats, small-town settings, and nonviolent plots helped to create the American “cozy” mystery. The star cat is a Siamese named after a 13th century Chinese artist: Kao K’o-Kung, more familiarly, Koko. Koko’s first book was The Cat Who Could Read Backward (1966).

But Koko had at least three interesting literary antecedents: Rudyard Kipling’s “The Cat That Walked by Himself” (Just So Stories,1902); Elizabeth Coatsworth’s Newbury award novel, The Cat Who Went to Heaven (1930); and Polly Cameron’s The Cat Who Thought He Was a Tiger (1956)—and there may be others that I haven’t yet tracked down. The cat-who stories obviously have quite a history.

And here’s some personal history. When the first version of “The Khat Who Became a Hero” was published 20 years ago, I was 64 (and happy to be doing a rewrite for you now, at 84). When Natalee bought the manuscript of The Cat Who Saw Red (the first of the Prime Crime Cat Who titles) Lilian was 73. When she died at 97, her 30th book, The Cat Who Smelled Smoke, was still a work in progress.

I think you see my point. These days, age seems to have become a cultural red flag. But we are all a work in progress. It’s never too late to open another chapter.

And now for the extras

. . . in roughly the order in which they appear in the story.

Photo by Stephanie Klepacki on Unsplash

Ristras

As the story begins, China is hanging ristras in her shop. These aren’t just colorful decorations but a convenient way to keep chiles until you’ve used them. And yes, you can make your own ristra. Here is a video demonstrating just how easy it is. Tips: 1) I work outdoors and wear latex gloves when I’m making with chiles because I am very sensitive to their heat. 2) I keep my ristras indoors because the outdoor humidity invites mold. And a suggestion: China’s 7th mystery, Chile Death, is all about what goes on at a Texas chile festival. Also at that link: a great recipe for chuckwagon chili, if you’d rather eat your peppers instead of hanging them on the wall.

Books

As the story opens, China is shelving books on aromatherapy and herbal adaptogens and nootropics (herbs that improve mental clarity and focus). Here are four titles I’m sure she carries. Each is a comprehensive review of its subject, including the recent relevant science.

• The Complete Book of Essential Oils and Aromatherapy, by Valerie Ann Worwood

• Advanced Aromatherapy: The Science of Essential Oil Therapy, by Kurt Schnaubelt Ph.D.

• Adaptogens: Herbs for Strength, Stamina, and Stress Relief, by David Winston

• The Complete Guide to Adaptogens: From Ashwagandha to Rhodiola, Medicinal Herbs That Transform and Heal, by Agatha Noveille

The Shops

If you’re not familiar with the layout of the shops, it might help to know that they began as one two-story house. Thyme & Seasons occupies one large room, Ruby’s Crystal Cave is adjacent, and the door between is always open. The tearoom is directly behind the herb shop and the kitchen is behind that. The gardens are off to the right and behind. (Next time I’ll do a better sketch.)

Khat: How many lives?

Ruby tells China that Khat has “inhabited more lives than we can count. Many more than nine, I’m sure.”

There’s some disagreement about how many lives a cat has. Nine, in many cultures. In Italy, Germany, Greece, and Brazil, it’s seven. In Arabic tradition, it’s six. Clearly, our Khat is no spring chicken.

But while the number may be up for debate, the fundamental idea is the same. Cats are magical, mystical, mysterious creatures. They belong to a goddess: in Egypt, to Bastet; in Greece, to Artemis. In Asia, to priests and temples. In Europe, to witches and the realm of the supernatural. As you’ll learn in the next episode, Khat himself once worked the night shift in a temple in ancient Siam and he’s consorted with a witch or two in the north of England.

China is fortunate that Khat is spending this life at Thyme & Seasons. It is unfortunate, of course, that she doesn’t speak his language. But maybe Ruby can? We’ll have to see. And do you suppose that China can learn?

My cats

In Thyme of Death, Khat asserts his claim to China by putting both front paws firmly on her foot. Toward the end of the book, China says, “I still wasn't keen on cats, but this one had decided to come home with me and I didn't have what it took to argue with him.  He was a cat of great determination.” While Khat went on to appear in all of the Pecan Springs novels, the story you are reading here is the first to explore his earlier lives and mysterious abilities. (That’s okay. You’ll get used to it.)

Like China, I was adopted by a Siamese. Two of them, actually. I met PK 1 (Pussy Khat, of course) on a street in Berkeley in 1970. He put a paw on my shoe, followed me home, and after grad school, moved with the kids and me to Texas.

PK 2 appeared at our door the week before Bill and I married in 1986, invited himself to lunch, and lived with us for the next 16 years. Both PKs had the most stupendous whiskers—probably not sixty (as in Lilian’s The Cat Who Had Sixty Whiskers) but close to it. I still consider PK 2 as a reincarnation of PK 1 and China’s Khat as the fictional counterpart of both of them.

Finally, the Recipes!

I know—that’s what you’re here for. Okay. Let’s start with the menu for the Football Moms’ Lunch.

Tomato Basil Cocktail
Cheesy Breadsticks
Caprese Salad with Bocconcini
Spinach and Carrot Quiche
Ginger-Peachy Melons

Tomato Basil Cocktail

2 cups tomato juice
6 fresh basil leaves, large
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
4 cups club soda
6 smaller basil leaves, 6 lemon wedges
Ice cubes

Place basil leaves in a 2-quart pitcher. Crush lightly with a spoon. Add tomato and lemon juice and steep for 10 minutes. Remove leaves, add club soda. Pour over ice in 6 glasses, garnish with basil leaf and lemon wedge.

Cheesy Herbed Breadsticks

Cass would no doubt begin with her favorite yeast bread dough, shaped into sticks. At our house, we use this easy version. Perfect for a quick supper or when unexpected company shows up.

1 tube (12 ounces) refrigerated buttermilk biscuits
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 teaspoons garlic powder
2 teaspoons dried herbs (thyme, savory, rosemary chopped fine)

Preheat oven to 400°. Separate the biscuits and roll each into a 6” stick. Brush with oil. In a plastic zipper bag or shallow bowl, combine cheese, garlic powder, and herbs. Coat sticks in cheese mixture. Bake on a greased baking sheet until golden brown, 8-10 minutes. Other herb possibilities: sesame seeds, poppy seeds, red pepper flakes.

Caprese Salad: Anestiev, Pixabay

Caprese Salad with Bocconcini

“Caprese” means “from Capri,” an island off the coast of southern Italy, and the ingredients are traditionally Italian. “Bocconcini” is derived from the Italian word “boccone,” mouthful or morsel.

Here’s what you need:

• cherry or sliced salad tomatoes (Beefsteak, Red Brandywine, Cherokee Purple)

• fresh basil leaves

• a few lettuce leaves or other greens, to fill out the salad

• fresh mozzarella “pearls” (bocconcini), cubes, or slices

• vinegar and oil dressing

Dressing

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/3 cup olive oil

A balsamic glaze is often drizzled on this salad, in addition to the dressing. Here’s how Bon Appetit makes it.

Spinach and Carrot Quiche

This quiche is on the tearoom menu in China Bayles’ Book 26, Queen Anne’s Lace. You can find the recipe for it on this page, as a downloadable pdf, along with several other carrot-based recipes from the book. (Lace is a mystery that centers on the 19th-century use of herbal abortifacients.)

And let’s not forget the biscatti!

I’ve stolen the word “biscatti” from one of the Cat-Whos (sorry, don’t remember which.) This is a recipe for the biscatti Cass makes for Khat. I’m sure these will please your finicky feline.

Salmon and Sweet Potato Biscatti

1/2 cup canned salmon (drained)
1/2 cup cooked sweet potato, mashed
1 cup oat flour
1 egg
2 tablespoons fresh chopped catnip, if you have it

Preheat oven to 350°F. In a mixing bowl, combine the canned salmon, mashed sweet potato, oat flour, egg, and catnip. Mix until well combined and a dough forms. Roll out the dough on a floured surface to about 1/4 inch thickness. Use cookie cutters or a knife to cut out treats suitable for the size of your cat. Place them on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake for 15-20 minutes or until the biscatti are firm and slightly golden. Allow to cool completely.

The April Book Bundle

To enter this month’s drawing, just leave a like and a comment. On Saturday, I’ll randomly choose a winner, who will receive 5-6 of my books to keep or give away. Congratulations to our previous Book Bundle winners: Debbie Fraker and Pamela Finley.