Claws! (5 page)

The next morning, Mom and Dad left for work early. So I couldn’t tell them about the cat cries and what had happened to my fish. Mom left a box of cereal and the milk at my place at the table. I choked some of it down. But I didn’t feel like eating.

I felt groggy. My head weighed at least a hundred pounds. It nearly dropped into my cereal bowl. I kept shaking my head, trying to wake up.

I’m the kind of kid who needs his sleep. Amanda is always bragging about how late she stays up. But if I don’t get seven or eight hours, I feel totally weird. Like I’ve been hit by a truck.

I don’t think I had ten minutes of sleep. I was too afraid to close my eyes.

I stayed awake and alert. Waiting for more cat cries. Waiting for the terrifying shadow to appear on my wall again.

Amanda met me on my front stoop and we
started across the lawn to feed Bella. The sun hurt my red, tired eyes. I couldn’t stop yawning.

“I—I have to tell you something,” I said. “Something scary.”

“You won’t believe what happened to me last night,” Amanda said. “My cousin Reeny came over. You met Reeny, right? Well, she brought this new Wii game. It’s a horseback-riding game. It’s totally awesome. And the two of us …”

I couldn’t get Amanda to stop telling me about the game. I kept opening my mouth. But she didn’t take a breath. I couldn’t get a word in. And I was too tired to shout or clap my hand over her mouth.

“I have something to tell you later,” I said, my voice hoarse and weak.

I don’t know if she heard me or not. She was still telling me how totally awesome the horseback-riding game was.

We stepped into the Caplans’ house—and we had a problem.

We couldn’t find Bella.

She wasn’t in the living room, waiting to greet us. She wasn’t in the kitchen. Amanda and I scrambled around the house, calling her name.

Of course, that was dumb. Her name wasn’t really Bella. She didn’t
know
her name yet. But we shouted it anyway. And I kept asking if she
was hungry. But maybe she didn’t know that word, either.

We found her right where we started. She had squeezed under the living room couch. Curled up under there, acting innocent, as if she didn’t know two people were frantically running everywhere trying to find her.

Amanda reached down and gently pulled the cat out. She didn’t try to resist. Amanda held her in her arms for a few moments. The cat seemed to like it.

“She’s getting calmer,” Amanda said. “I can tell she’s getting used to this house.”

“I hope so,” I said.

Amanda petted her. “You look so much like Bella,” she told the cat. “I’m just going to forget the old Bella ever existed.”

I sighed. “We’re going to be late for school. I’ll give her breakfast.”

I walked to the kitchen, pulled the bag of cat food from under the sink, and filled Bella’s bowl. “Breakfast!” I shouted. “Are you hungry?”

No cat.

I hurried back to the living room. Bella was still in Amanda’s arms. “Let her down so she can eat her breakfast,” I said. “We have to get out of here.”

“She’s in a cuddly mood,” Amanda said. But she set the cat down on the floor.

Bella stretched, bending from her middle, poking her tail straight up in the air. She made a soft sound like a yawn.

“Hungry?” I asked her. I motioned to the kitchen. “Hungry? Breakfast? Chow time?”

To my surprise, the cat turned and darted back under the couch.

“She doesn’t understand,” Amanda said. “Go back in the kitchen and rattle her food dish so she hears it.”

I started back for the kitchen—but stopped when I heard a loud noise behind me. “What’s that?” I asked Amanda.

Amanda was staring under the couch.

Bella let out an ugly screech. She was on her back. It took me a few seconds to realize what she was doing.

“Oh, no!” I cried. “No! Stop her!”

The cat was scratching frantically on the couch bottom. Screeching like a trapped animal and ripping the bottom of the couch with her claws.

Ripping and clawing faster … harder.

“Do
something!” I shouted to Amanda.

She turned to me, pale, her eyes wide. “Do
what?
I’m not going to try to pull her out.”

Riiiip rippp ripppp.

“She’s pulling all the stuffing out!” I screamed.

Pieces of white foam rubber came flying out from under the couch. And the cat kept scraping out more.

“She’s crazy!” I cried. “What’s
wrong
with her?”

Riiiip rippp ripppp.

Clawing frantically, the cat kept screaming like a maniac.

I dove for the couch and dropped to my knees. I started to reach under the couch with both hands.

What was I thinking?

The cat clawed at my hands. She turned her head toward me and, eyes glowing bright yellow, she snapped her teeth.

“Owwwwww!”

I jerked my hands away.

Pain shot up my hand and arm. My palm had dark red claw marks down the middle.

I jumped to my feet and backed away. “I—I can’t do it. I can’t get her out.”

Clawing furiously, like a machine out of control, the cat was ripping out the whole bottom of the couch.

“We’re going to be really late,” Amanda said. “Let’s go. Give her time to calm down. Maybe she’ll be better if we leave.”

“But the mess —” I started.

Riiiip rippp ripppp.

“We’ll clean it up after school,” Amanda said.
She tugged my T-shirt sleeve. “Come on. I can’t stand this.”

“What’s her problem?” I said.

Amanda didn’t answer. She was already heading out the front door. I followed her and closed the door behind me.

We stood on the stoop, catching our breath. I could still hear the cat’s wild screeches from inside.

I shifted my backpack on my shoulders and started down the steps. I stopped when I saw the three men walking along the sidewalk.

Three men in gray uniforms.

I pulled Amanda off the stoop and behind a tall shrub.

“Look —” I pointed. “He followed us. The guy from Cat Heaven. Lou. And two pals.”

We hunched down behind the thick bush.

“It’s too late. I think they saw us,” Amanda whispered.

Peeking through the needles of the evergreen shrub, I watched the three men approach. They were walking slowly, studying each house. I felt my throat tighten. I tried to duck lower. My legs were trembling so hard, I almost fell into the bush.

Amanda squeezed my arm. “Why did they follow us?” she whispered. “Why did Lou bring two other guys?”

I couldn’t answer her questions. I just shook my head.

I stood very still as they came nearer. They were on the sidewalk, staring up at the Caplans’ house.

I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out in a long, silent whoosh.

Please don’t see us. Please keep walking.

“They have hundreds of cats in their store,” Amanda whispered, her mouth right in my ear.

“What’s the big deal that we stole one little cat?”

“Shhh.”
I pressed a finger to my lips.

But she ignored me. “Okay,” she whispered. “So we did a bad thing. We stole a cat. But what’s the big crime?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know the answer.

I only knew I didn’t want to be caught. I didn’t like the grim looks on the faces of the three men. And I didn’t like the way they were staring at the Caplans’ house.

Were they coming up the front walk? Did they know the stolen cat was inside?

If they came up here, we were dead meat. They would see us hiding behind the bush.

I held my breath again. And watched them through the prickly evergreen needles.

They squinted up at the front window. Then they started walking again. They walked slowly, side by side, gazing at the next house.

And as they moved on, I heard Lou talking to the others. His words sent a chill down my back:

“We have to find them,” he said. “They have no idea the trouble they are in.”

Amanda and I waited behind the bush till Lou and his two partners turned the corner. My face was drenched with sweat. My backpack felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.

Finally, we crept out and began to walk to school. We stayed behind hedges and walked through backyards. I kept glancing behind us. I was sure the three store clerks would sneak up and grab us.

“M-maybe we should give them back their cat,” I stammered. We were across the street from our school. No other kids in sight. We were definitely late.

“We can’t do that,” Amanda insisted. “You don’t want to tell the Caplans what happened to Bella, do you?”

“I—I—” I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I just didn’t want three angry-looking men searching for me.

“They’ll give up and go back to their store,”
Amanda said. “It’s just one little cat. It’s not such a big deal.”

“Then why did they say we don’t know the trouble we’re in?” I asked.

Amanda shrugged. “Guess they don’t like cat thieves.”

We crossed the street and ran the rest of the way to the front doors of the school. Miss Harris wasn’t in the classroom. So she didn’t see us sneak in late.

I dropped my backpack on the floor and sat down in my seat. I mopped the sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt.

I realized I hadn’t told Amanda about the cat sounds in my room last night. The meows and the floating shadows that kept me up all night and what happened to my poor fish.

I’ll tell her at lunch,
I decided.

My friend Aaron sits next to me. He’s a big, happy-looking guy with glasses, spiky red hair, and a lot of freckles. Aaron always seems to be grinning. That’s his natural expression.

He poked me in the ribs. “What’s your problem, Mickey?” he asked. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Don’t SAY that!” I cried. “Don’t mention cats!”

“Well, of course slavery is what divided the states before the Civil War,” Miss Harris was
saying. “But what was the actual cause of the war? Anybody have an idea? Raise your hand.”

Miss Harris is the coolest teacher in our school. She is young and awesome looking with straight blond hair and big blue eyes.

She wears jeans and T-shirts with the names of rock bands on them. And she has a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on the back of one hand.

“Anybody know the direct cause of the war?” she asked. “Let’s see some hands. Did you read the chapter?”

I turned my head so Miss Harris wouldn’t see me yawning. I couldn’t stop yawning all morning. I felt so sleepy, I just wanted to put my head on the desk and conk out.

This was an important morning to be awake and alert. She was starting the Civil War unit this morning.

I should have been taking notes.

But my ears were ringing. And my eyes kept going blurry. And my mouth kept opening in yawn after yawn.

I know I’m only twelve. But like I said, I’m not a night owl. I really need my sleep.

“That’s right,” Miss Harris was saying. “The root cause of the war was
secession.”

She wrote the word on the whiteboard. “Now we are going to go back in time a little and …”

I missed what she said after that because I yawned again. It was taking all my strength to
try to hold in my yawns so she wouldn’t see them. But it was a losing battle.

I pulled some paper from my backpack and wrote at the top of a fresh page:

Secession. Root cause.

I raised my head to see what she was writing on the whiteboard now. And that’s when I heard the first meow.

I jumped a mile.

The cat’s cry was right behind me.

I spun around hard.

I didn’t mean to bump Aaron. But I jerked around so fast, my shoulder crashed into his head, and I almost knocked his glasses off.

“Hey!” he cried out. “What’s your problem?”

“Didn’t you hear it?” I whispered.

“Is there a problem?” Miss Harris turned to stare at Aaron and me.

Meeeow.

“N-no!” I stammered. “No problem.”

“Well, Mickey, do you have something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” she asked.

“No. Sorry,” I said. “I … uh … dropped my pencil.”

Yeeeeow.

Another cat cry. This time under my seat.

I bent down to find the cat. Nothing under there.

Yeeeeoww.

I sat back up. I felt dizzy. The room started to spin.

I heard another cat cry behind me. And then a long, shrill yowl from under my desk again.

I jumped to my feet. I stepped away from the chair. Then I spun around to see the cats.

“Where are they?” I cried.
“Where?”

Kids turned to stare. A few kids laughed.

“Mickey, what’s wrong?” Miss Harris asked. “Are you okay? Sit down, please. Sit down.”

Yeeeoowww.

“But—don’t you hear them?” I cried. “Miss Harris, don’t you
hear
them?”

Kids started to laugh. I guess they thought I was goofing.

Aaron grabbed me and tried to pull me back to my seat. But I missed the chair and landed on my butt on the floor.

That made everyone roar.

I saw Miss Harris laughing along with everyone else. I could feel my face getting hot. I knew I was blushing like crazy.

I was frightened and embarrassed at the same time.

Aaron helped pull me to my feet.

The laughter rang in my ears. But I didn’t care about that. I gazed all around, searching for the cat.

Finally, Miss Harris gave the school signal for quiet—two fingers raised above her head. The room grew silent.

Yeeeooow.

I was still on my feet. My legs trembled. My heart was thudding in my chest.

“Don’t you hear it?” I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hear what, Mickey?” Miss Harris asked. She came down the aisle till she stood right in front of me. “What do you hear? I’m listening. I don’t hear anything.”

Yeeeooow.

“There. It did it again. It’s—it’s a cat,” I stammered. “There’s a cat in here. But I can’t find it.”

She narrowed her blue eyes at me. She frowned. “Is this a dare? Did Aaron dare you to do this?”

Aaron shot both hands up in the air. “No way!” he screamed. “I didn’t do anything. He’s
crazy
!”

“It’s not a dare,” I said. I raised my right hand. “I swear.”

Miss Harris turned to face the class. “Does anyone else hear a cat? Is Mickey the only one who hears it?”

A few kids laughed. No one raised a hand.

“Amanda, please —” I called. She sits in the front row. I needed her help. “Amanda—do you hear it?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mickey. I don’t hear anything,” she said softly. “Maybe …” Her voice drifted off. She didn’t finish her sentence.

“Everyone look under your seats,” Miss Harris said. “Look all around. Find the cat.”

She turned back to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I hope someone finds a cat, Mickey,” she said. “I hope you didn’t interrupt the Civil War for a joke.”

“Not a joke,” I muttered.

Chairs scraped as kids looked under their seats. On the other side of the room, two boys cupped their hands around their mouths and meowed.

“Last chance,” Miss Harris said. “Does anyone see a cat in here?”

“Yes! I do!” Aaron cried. He pointed under Miss Harris’s desk. “I see it! There it is!”