Words With Fiends by Ali Brandon

me. That’s something you and Hamlet will have to figure out for yourselves. And if that doesn’t work . . . well, I’ve found that the Universe has a way of shaking things up for you when you need shaking up.”
    Then, when Darla stared at him, he added, “I always include a free follow-up visit on any consultation, so I’ll pop back in sometime in the next week or so to see if there’s any progress. And you have my card, so feel free to call me if you need to chat before then.”
    With another guileless smile, he made his way to the door, his hand carefully wrapped in his coat as he turned the knob and wandered out into the crisp morning air.
    â€œWell, that was special,” Darla announced to the empty store, unable to contain her disappointment. She wasn’t certain what she’d expected to happen from this visit, but what she did know was that she could have left Hamlet to his own devices without benefit of Brody’s consultation and accompanying exorbitant fee!
    On the other hand, maybe Mr. Feline Behavioral Empath had communicated something of value that would put Hamlet’s cat brain in motion and jog him from his apathy.
    She repeated the same sentiment to James and Robert a couple of hours later when they arrived for their shifts.
    â€œMy main worry,” she finished, while both Robert and James listened intently, “is that he’s not eating like he should, and he’s not getting any exercise.”
    â€œI hardly think he is going to shrivel up from hunger,” James replied. “Cats do have a strong sense of self-preservation. But perhaps there is something to Mr. Raywinkle’s theory about allowing him to perform a service. Suppose that we stage an event that would require Hamlet’s intervention?”
    â€œI could, like, pretend to hurt myself so he could run get help,” Robert suggested, and promptly performed a dramatic pratfall worthy of a professional comedian.
    Impressed, Darla reached a hand to help him up again. “That would make a great YouTube video,” she conceded, “but Hamlet is too smart to be taken in by something that obvious.”
    â€œOkay, then, what about a shoplifter?” the youth countered with equal enthusiasm as he dusted himself off. “I can get a friend to, you know, pretend to steal a book in front of him. Hamlet can pounce on him and save the day.”
    â€œNot altruistic enough,” Darla declared, while James nodded his agreement. “I hate to say it, but if Brody is right, the only way Hamlet will recover is if he overcomes a situation similar to the one that sent him into this tailspin in the first place.”
    Which meant that the doughty cat would have to face down another killer. And not only was that something that Darla would never allow, it wasn’t like she had any desire to conjure up a murderer strictly for therapeutic purposes!
    Discouraged now, she exchanged looks with Robert and James, who both appeared equally discouraged. Then the latter shook his head.
    â€œI am certain we will find some way to perk him up again. Maybe Jake will have a suggestion.”
    But Jake, too, proved of little help when they met that evening at Thai Me Up. After they’d settled in their favorite window spot at the restaurant, Darla gave her friend a blow-by-blow account of her conversation with Brody.
    â€œI really don’t know what to do with Hamlet now,” she finished and took a miserable stab at the last curry puff on their appetizer platter. “If Brody is right, and Hamlet really is trying to atone, this might never get resolved. Any brilliant suggestions?”
    â€œâ€™Fraid not, kid. I could use a few brilliant suggestions, myself. I haven’t had much luck tracking down Alex’s mother.”
    â€œMrs. Putin,” Darla exclaimed. “Sorry, I forgot about her, worrying about Hamlet all day. What happened?”
    â€œI made the