Though the house had been all but leveled in the storm, the place underneath had not been touched-- so when the master cleared the basement door, a very grateful Oliver, Molly, and Jaz emerged.

"Who would have thunk it," Jaz said wearily. "Saved by a concrete room."

She looked at Oliver but his attention was on the master, who was making his way out of the rubble, with tears streaking his reddened, weathered face, repeating the name of the one he had lost.

"Sammy..."

He searched the yard, turning over bits of debris as he went. Then, giving up, he sat upon the trunk of a fallen tree and buried his face in his trembling hands.

Jaz hung her head. "Poor Sam..." And in that moment her heart ached genuinely for the tom who had bothered her to no end. Maybe it was a little bit of Oliver seeping in, the way he'd spoken about the master and his mercy.

But if Sam was gone, then his time for mercy had ended with his life. No amount of grieving would ever bring him back.

"He wanted this," the orange tom said. "He looked right at the master and did not come, even though the door was open. He wanted to be free in his own way and so..." He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "He granted his own wish."

The others were silent.

At the end of the day, help came from a place up the road. It was a man-place which the master called "church". They would offer their homes to the master--and his cats--and eventually help him rebuild what had been destroyed. After that, life went on nearly the same as before, except that a brother was missed and a few existing relationships made stronger. One thing was now certain-- Although Oliver, Molly, and Jaz could never fully understand why their master did the things he did, and didn't do the things he didn't do, they knew that he cared for them and would always protect them, right up to the end.

They loved him for it.