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Dark's Tale
Dark's Tale
Amazon.com Amazon.com
Powell's Books Powell's Books

Deborah gives an overview of the book:

San Francisco's Golden Gate Park is a thousand acres of trees, open ground, lakes, waterfalls, and biking trails. During the day, the park is full of people. It's a popular destination, for locals and tourists alike. But when the sun sets out over the Pacific, the park becomes a different place. A whole new world emerges, the night world that the thousands who pass through the Park during the sunlit hours, will never see or understand. One summer night, a young adult cat named Dark is abandoned in Golden Gate Park by the couple who had raised her from a kitten. And from the moment Dark realises they aren't coming back, she must begin from scratch, learning to survive in an alien world. She quickly rediscovers her instincts, and they become her most important tool to get through the first few critical weeks. She learns to move first and ask questions later when her...
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San Francisco's Golden Gate Park is a thousand acres of trees, open ground, lakes, waterfalls, and biking trails. During the day, the park is full of people. It's a popular destination, for locals and tourists alike.

But when the sun sets out over the Pacific, the park becomes a different place. A whole new world emerges, the night world that the thousands who pass through the Park during the sunlit hours, will never see or understand.

One summer night, a young adult cat named Dark is abandoned in Golden Gate Park by the couple who had raised her from a kitten. And from the moment Dark realises they aren't coming back, she must begin from scratch, learning to survive in an alien world.

She quickly rediscovers her instincts, and they become her most important tool to get through the first few critical weeks. She learns to move first and ask questions later when her instinct tells her to run, or to climb a tree.

But it takes more than that to survive in the Park: it takes alliances, friends, learning who to trust. Dark's first friend in the Park is a raccoon named Rattail. It's Rattail who educates Dark on the complexities of the night world in the Park, and shows her the human components: the resident homeless population (the Cores), the people who live outside the Park but who are kindly disposed toward the animal population (the Warms), the oblivious masses (the Blanks), and the people who, through malice or inadvertence, mean harm (the Dangers).

With Rattail's help, Dark quickly finds her place in the Park. She makes friends with Casablanca, a white cat whose former owners moved away and left her behind. Casablanca knows secret ways into her old house; unbeknownst to the new resident, she sleeps in the garage in bad weather. Casablanca introduces Dark to the nightly feedings by a Warm couple, Jack and Angie.

Cats have a strong respect for the proper order of the natural world. But there are creatures and things in the Park that seem to fall outside that order, and Dark must come to grips with them: Ghosts, moving between the trees. Memorie the owl, an uncanny creature who watches over the Park's night world from the skies. Streetwise Sal, the tiny old woman who knows marvelous stories a thousand years old. Jesse, a Core with a home outside the Park, who speaks not only Dark's language, but the language of every creature in the Park.

The Park has a biosystem, and the biosystem has its own internal rhythm. The predators leave each other alone, understanding by instinct that the delicate balance of respect for each other's territory is crucial to their joint survival. The biggest danger to that balance is human.

But not every danger in the night world of the Park walks on two legs. One night, Dark and Rattail hear the first murmurings of a new predator in the Park: the coyote. This interloper, a mysterious trickster, neither knows the ways of the Park, nor cares about anything beyond surviving and thriving. The coyotes begin with the killing of the Park's fox population. From there, they move on to hunting the raccoons and the cats.

Dark forms a close bond with Jesse, the Warm Core who speaks her language. One night, gathering for their evening meal with the Warms Jack and Angie, Dark and her friends hear a piece of news that means no good to them: the city's administration, confronted with a public outcry about the coyotes, has responded by making it illegal to feed any "wild" animal on any public city street. While Jack and Angie are angry, and choose to ignore it, Rattail takes the news in the worst possible way: as a betrayal of trust by the human world. His anger changes him, driving a wedge between him and the two cats who are his closest companions. Because he can't or won't believe that not all people are alike, he mistrusts Jesse and draws back from Dark.

But when a coyote comes out of the trees and goes after all three of them, the situation comes to a head. And Rattail makes a choice that costs him his life.

Dark in the Park is a story of survival, cooperation, and trust. It's about the choices we all must make, and the loyalty to our real families: the ones we choose.

 

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The first couple of days after they dumped me, I did a lot of practicing, and even after the bug-catching indoors, I needed the practice. I went hungry, no food for nearly two days, until I discovered the dumpsters. I did a lot of dumpster-diving. There's plenty to eat in the park dumpsters, if the raccoons and the Cores don't beat you to it.I didn't want to starve, but the first time I saw a small mob of raccoons biting at each other over who got what out of the dumpster I'd been heading for, I decided to try for gophers. The park's got about a million of them, and they turned out to be a lot easier to catch than I thought at first. What happened was, I was sitting on the grass, in the little not-quite-meadow near the big stone sign that says "AIDS Memorial", and I felt something move, underground.I went very still, waiting. Something was down there, not too far down; I could feel it. It was almost as if the ground itself was letting me know: pssst, hey Dark, there's food down here, maybe a mouse or something, dinner, check it out, this is your lucky day.I walked, keeping quiet, one step after another, following the little pattering movements that were making the ground vibrate under my paws. It tunneled in a twisty line and I went right along with it, very light on my feet, not letting whatever it was know I was there. I was Dark and I was my own name, a part of the darkness that moment, unseen by anything, just moving along, waiting to feed...The pattering stopped. Just ahead of me, I heard a tiny whoomph!, and out of nowhere, a little spray of dirt flew right up into the air and settled, making a mound. Another whoomph, more dirt. The mound was getting bigger. Whatever was making it was right there under me, digging, a body length away. I flattened myself out, became part of the earth I was moving on. One leg forward, another, then the rear. Half a length, close enough to reach out and -Right in the middle of the mound, a head popped out.I wasn't thinking. I wasn't even aware I was moving. But I must have been, because one second I was looking at the mound, and the next there was dirt from the destroyed mound scattered everywhere and a dead gopher, with its neck broken, was dangling from my mouth. I could taste it, earth and fur and a coppery tang that might be blood."WOW-ow. Nice catch."The voice came from right behind me, a harsh little chattery voice, very friendly. I must have jumped a mile. I went straight up and then down, turning in midair with the gopher still dangling from my mouth. My tail had fluffed out huge, and all the fur on my back was standing up in a ridge. I can't have looked very dignified.He was sitting there on the grass, watching me with his head tilted. There are lots of raccoons in the park - too many, if you ask me. Getting them annoyed with you is a bad idea, because they can climb as well as cats, and that means they can chase you. I was still very nervous of them, back then."I'm sorry." He was a little guy, young, and sort of goofy-looking. I was too preoccupied with hanging on to my dinner to consider why. "Did I scare you? I don't scare anyone usually.""That's okay." Standing there with all four legs planted and my dinner cooling off between my teeth, I realized why he looked so weird: he was missing most of the fur on his front legs, and all the fur on his tail. His back end was as bald as a possum. "But this is my gopher. Don't get any ideas.""What?" He reared up on his hind legs, stretching his neck and looking around like a prairie dog, and settled himself back down. "I can't really hear you - you sound all shmooshy. It's okay to put the gopher down. I don't eat those things, not if I can help it.""Sorry." I opened my mouth, and let go. The raccoon was right - I was mumbling, trying to talk around a mouthful of dead dinner. It was starting to get heavy anyway, hurting my jaws."I like watching hunters hunt. Um, if they aren't hunting me, I mean." I was starting to like his voice - he broke up certain short words, so that hunt became HUH-unt, and name became NAY-ame. "What's your name, cat?""Dark." He seemed friendly enough, and anyway, he didn't seem interested in stealing my dinner. Mostly, raccoons just waddle straight at you if you're eating something they want, and if you have half a brain, you'll back away fast and find something else to eat. This was the first time one of them had wandered over just to hang out and chat. "What about you? I don't know much about raccoons. Do you have names?""Well, sure. Everyone has names. Hello, Dark. I'm Rattail.""Oh. Hi." Actually, it was a pretty good name. I could see why he was called that - that stripped bald tail of his did remind me a little bit of a rat. It wouldn't have been polite or kind to say so, though. "Pleasure to meet you. Hey, you don't mind if I eat, do you? I was going to take it into the bushes. I don't want to attract attention.""Please do." He watched me pick the gopher, and skittered along next to me. I'm not that big, and the raccoons I'd seen since the dumping had mostly been lots bigger than me. Rattail wasn't, though. He was just about my size, just heavier. "So, were you born in the park? Because I was.""No."He must have seen me tense up. "Oh, I'm sorry - did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to.""It's okay."He was quiet, and I tore off a piece of gopher.

It wasn't okay, not really. I'd loved my life, loved having a big padded cushion to sleep on and a bowl with a picture of a cat that looked like me on it to eat from. I missed the way the man would tickle my ears, and the way the woman used to laugh when I'd chase the feathers she'd dangled for me. I missed sleeping in a patch of sunlight without worrying if something was going to come after me, missed running down the hall when they came home and rubbing up against their legs. When we rub, it's to mark our territory. I'd always thought the People were my territory, but I guess I'd been wrong.

 

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Note from the author coming soon...

About Deborah

Deborah Grabien is a cook, guitar player, cat rescuer, traveller, and all-around rocker chick. She also writes a little: she's the author of the Haunted Ballad series (St. Martins Minotaur), six standalone novels, and the Kinkaid...

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