He raised the sword, took a step toward me, and Cat flew through the air and latched onto Hatchet’s face.

“YOW!” Hatchet shrieked, dropping his sword, batting at Cat.

Diesel grabbed a handful of Hatchet’s tunic and lifted him off the floor. “I’ll take it from here,” Diesel said to Cat.

Cat disengaged from Hatchet’s face, gracefully landed on the floor, and flicked away a clump of Hatchet’s hair that was stuck in his claw.

Diesel carted Hatchet at arm’s length to the open door, pitched him out, closed and locked the door.

BAM, BAM, BAM. Hatchet was hammering on the door.

Diesel opened the door and looked down at Hatchet. “Now what?”

Hatchet had a bunch of cat scratches and punctures that were beginning to ooze blood. “I think I left my sword in your living room.”

Diesel retrieved the sword, gave it to Hatchet, and closed and locked the door again.

“Have you ever thought about getting shades on those kitchen windows?” Diesel asked me.

“Shades cost money.”

“Maybe I should spend the night here. Make sure you’re safe.”

“Not necessary. I have Cat.”

My clock radio went into music mode at 4:15 A.M. Still dark out. Cat was asleep at the foot of the bed. No rain slashing against the window. All good signs. I dragged myself out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed in my usual uniform of jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers.

The floors throughout the house are wide plank yellow pine. Some very, very old. Some new. The ceilings are low. The walls are old-fashioned plaster. The windows are wood, with small panes. The kitchen is far from high tech, but perfectly functional, and it feels cozy. I have my pots and pans hanging from hooks screwed into ceiling beams over my little work island.

I started coffee brewing, poured some kitty nuggets into a bowl for Cat, and gave him fresh water. I ate a small container of blueberry yogurt while I waited for my coffee, and reviewed my day.