Spy Cat

  Half an hour later, they were shooting baskets in Alex’s driveway when Benjie dashed toward the house.

  “I found a kitten,” he yelled. “A truck came and I spied on it and the people put a box in the street and left it there and the box was moving and when I looked inside, there was a kitten!”

  “A purple-and-gold kitten,” Alex told Rocky as he dribbled toward the basket.

  “One that plays the clarinet,” Rocky said.

  “While it flies over the trees.” Alex shot, missed, and got his own rebound.

  “Hey!” Rocky said, pointing to Benjie. “He really does have a kitten.”

  Alex dropped the basketball and looked at his brother. He and Rocky followed Benjie inside, where Benjie was telling his parents what had happened.

  “Can I keep it?” Benjie said.

  “We already have a cat,” Mrs. Kendrill said.

  “That’s right,” said Pete. “You already have the perfect cat, who deserves to be the only pampered pet in the family, so don’t even think about keeping that one.”

  “Pete is really Alex’s cat,” Benjie said. “Alex got to choose him at the humane society, and Alex got to name him, and Pete always sleeps with Alex. I want a pet of my own that I get to name.”

  “Pete is your cat, too,” Mr. Kendrill said. “He’s a family pet.”

  “Pete runs away or hides under the table when he sees me,” Benjie said.

  “Pete only hides when you shout or slam the door,” Mrs. Kendrill said.

  Which is most of the time, Pete thought.

  “Please?” Benjie begged. “The kitten is so cute.”

  “All baby animals are cute,” Mr. Kendrill said, “but they grow up quickly.”

  “I’m plenty of cat for two boys,” Pete said. “Look at me!” He flopped on his side, then stretched out to his full length. “I could easily be two cats in one skin.”

  “Alex, did you take Pete for his walk?” Mrs. Kendrill asked.

  “Yes. I had him outside for nearly an hour.”

  “Then why is he meowing?”

  “Maybe he wants to see the kitten,” Benjie said. He walked to where Pete lay and set the kitten on the floor.

  Pete jumped to his feet.

  “Oh, it is adorable,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “Look at those tiny paws and that sweet face.”

  Pete looked. Then he sniffed. Pe-uw! The kitten was seriously in need of a good bath. Pete sighed. Knowing how inept the humans were in such matters, he supposed he would have to do it himself. He put one paw on the kitten’s back, to hold it still, and began licking its ears.

  4

  Look,” Alex said. “Pete’s grooming the kitten.” “He likes the kitty,” Benjie said. “He wants us to keep it.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Pete said. “I’m only washing her so she won’t stink.” He continued licking the kitten’s ears. When they were clean, he licked the kitten’s face and chest.

  The kitten held still, with its eyes closed. It didn’t purr, but it kneaded its tiny claws in and out, the way Pete always did when he was happy.

  “I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl,” Rocky said.

  “It’s a girl,” Pete said.

  Mrs. Kendrill picked up the kitten and looked under the tail. “It’s a girl,” she said.

  “I told you that,” Pete said. “Nobody listens to me.”

  Mrs. Kendrill didn’t put the kitten down right away. Instead, she held it up under her chin and cuddled it.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Benjie said. “I’ll feed her and brush her and she can sleep on my bed. I’ll play with her every day.”

  “She isn’t getting any of MY food,” Pete said.

  “See?” Benjie said. “Pete wants to keep her, too.”

  That was just like a human, to twist words around so that they appeared to mean something entirely different from what the speaker had intended. Still, the kitten was small and helpless. Pete had been that little once, with no one to take care of him. If Alex hadn’t selected him at the humane society, Pete didn’t know where he would have ended up. Given Pete’s own history, it didn’t seem right to deny the kitten a home.

  “Oh, all right,” Pete said. “I suppose you can keep her if she stays out of my way—and out of my bowl.”

  “She’s free,” Benjie said. “We don’t have to pay anything.”

  “Ha!” said Mr. Kendrill. “Fat chance.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Benjie said.

  Alex looked at the kitten. She was two shades of brown, with black stripes. Alex had seen many cats who looked exactly like her. She was cute because she was so tiny, but Alex doubted she would ever be beautiful. He didn’t say that, though.

  “Kittens are a lot of trouble,” Mr. Kendrill said. “Remember how Pete climbed the drapes when he was little? He walked on the piano keys at night and woke everyone up, and he ran through the house all the time like a crazy thing, leaping on the furniture and knocking all the throw rugs out of place. Come to think of it, he still does that sometimes.”

  “Only when I have a cat fit,” Pete said.

  “For the most part, he grew out of all that wildness,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “Pete’s a wonderful cat now. He never climbs the drapes or walks on the piano keys anymore.”

  “I vote to keep the kitten,” Benjie said.

  “So do I,” said Mrs. Kendrill.

  “It’s okay with me,” said Alex.

  “She can’t eat any of my food,” said Pete.

  “I can see it doesn’t matter how I vote,” Mr. Kendrill said.

  “I’m going to name her Elizabeth Van Lew,” Benjie said.

  “What?” said Mr. Kendrill.

  “Elizabeth Van Lew was a spy during the Civil War. She took food and medicine to the prisoners, and they told her secrets about the Confederate Army, and then she told the Union Army what she knew. Elizabeth Van Lew was a hero.”

  Mrs. Kendrill looked dubious. “Elizabeth Van Lew,” she said.

  “That’s quite a mouthful for such a small cat,” Alex said. “I can’t quite imagine calling her to come.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “Here, Elizabeth Van Lew. Here, Elizabeth Van Lew.”

  Benjie giggled. “That will be her real name,” he said, “but I’ll call her Lizzy.”

  “Could I hold her?” Rocky asked.

  As Alex watched Rocky pet the kitten, he realized it was the first time today that his friend had smiled. Even when they had played “horse” with the basketball, Alex could tell that Rocky’s heart wasn’t in the game. The terrible knowledge that strangers had broken into his house and taken his family’s personal property had hung over Rocky like a black cloud all day.

  “If you had decided not to keep her,” Rocky said, “I was going to ask if I could take her.”

  “You should have spoken up,” Mr. Kendrill said.

  “It’s too late now,” Benjie said.

  Benjie no longer looked worried about the burglars, either. In fact, he was grinning as if it were his birthday.

  Alex rubbed Pete behind the ears. “You’re a good boy, Pete,” he said, “to wash the kitten and not fight with her.”

  “She needs a role model, and who could do a better job of that than me?”

  “He is a good boy,” Mrs. Kendrill agreed. “Some cats refuse to accept another cat in their house. My friend Annette tried to take in a stray, and it was a disaster. For weeks, her cat did nothing but hiss and run away. Then the cats began fighting, and they both ended up at the vet with abscesses from scratching and biting each other. Talk about a catastrophe! Annette finally had to find a new home for the stray.”

  “The perfect word,” Mr. Kendrill said. “Cat-astrophe.”

  “I liked disaster better,” Pete said.

  “Kitty num-num for you tonight,” Alex told Pete.

  “I’ll need it,” Pete said. “Being a substitute parent will take a lot of energy.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Kendrill gasped. “I just thought of something
!”

  “What?” Mr. Kendrill asked.

  “We need to take the kitten to the vet as soon as possible,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “We don’t know where she came from or whether she might have a disease that Pete could catch.”

  Alex picked up Pete and carried him away from the kitten.

  “Kittens are usually immune to disease when they’re this small,” Mr. Kendrill said, “especially if the mother cat was vaccinated.”

  “She probably wasn’t,” Alex said, holding Pete closer. “People who care enough about their pets to get them vaccinated don’t dump them on a street corner.”

  Mrs. Kendrill called the veterinary clinic, explained the situation, then said, “Thank you. We’ll come right away.”

  After she hung up, she said, “They don’t have any openings today, but they’ll squeeze us in whenever we get there. Meanwhile, we’re supposed to keep Lizzy away from Pete.”

  “I’ll go outside,” Pete offered.

  Alex said, “I guess we should have thought of that before we let Pete wash her.”

  “If she isn’t healthy,” Mr. Kendrill warned, “we may not be able to keep her.”

  Benjie picked up Lizzy and held her tight, as if he were afraid someone was going to snatch the kitten away right then.

  “She doesn’t act sick,” Pete said, “and now that she’s clean she smells all right.”

  “The sooner the vet sees her, the better,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “I’ll take her now.”

  “Do you want Pete’s carrier?” Alex asked.

  “She can have it to keep,” Pete said.

  “Let’s use the box she was in,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “If she is sick, there’s no sense getting germs on Pete’s carrier.”

  “I want to hold her when we go,” Benjie said. “She doesn’t want to be shut in that dumb box again.”

  “She needs to be confined in the car, and when we go into the vet’s office,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “You know what it’s like in that waiting room—dogs on leashes, and people talking, and phones ringing. Lizzy will be less frightened in her box.”

  “Then I’ll put a towel in it so she’s comfortable,” Benjie said.

  “Not one of the bathroom towels,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “Take one from the rag pile.”

  Minutes later Mrs. Kendrill carried the box containing Lizzy to the car, with Benjie running ahead to open the door.

  Alex and Rocky played a game of Clue while they waited for Mrs. Kendrill and Benjie to return. Rocky had just won when Mary knocked on the door.

  “Did your power get turned on?” Alex asked, after he introduced Mary to his dad and Rocky.

  “Our power is on, and the furniture came,” Mary said. “The phone company was here, too.” She handed Alex a piece of paper. “Here’s our new number; Gramma thought you should have it.”

  Alex told Mary about the kitten.

  “We have kitten formula and doll bottles,” Mary said, “for when Gramma has foster kittens. If your kitty hasn’t been weaned yet, let me know, and you can have what you need to feed her.”

  “Thanks. She looks big enough to eat out of a dish. She’s about the size Pete was when we got him.”

  “Be sure to give her a dish of her own,” Mary advised. “Pete will accept her more quickly if he doesn’t have to share his food.”

  “Rocky’s the one whose house got burglarized this morning,” Alex said.

  “Have they found out who did it yet?” Mary asked.

  “Not yet,” Rocky said. “Sheriff Alvored says we may never get our things back. There are thousands of burglaries every year, and only a small percent of the items are ever recovered.”

  After Mary left, Alex found a small bowl for Lizzy and put it on the other side of the kitchen, away from Pete’s dish. He didn’t put food in it, in case Lizzy needed a different kind of food than what Pete ate.

  Soon Benjie burst into the house carrying the cardboard box. Alex could tell from the expression on his brother’s face that the kitten was healthy.

  Benjie set the box on the floor and opened it. Lizzy scrambled out.

  “She’s fine,” Mrs. Kendrill said. “She got her first shots, and she got wormed. She’s supposed to go back in a month. Dr. Rice says she’s a tabby cat, one of the most common kind.”

  “She’s about seven weeks old,” Benjie said, “and she matches!”

  “Matches?” Rocky asked.

  Benjie pointed to Lizzy’s face, and then to her chest. “Dr. Rice showed me. Her left side is exactly the same as her right side, as if one half of her was a color copy of the other. See? All the stripes and the fur colors match perfectly.”

  Alex saw that it was true. “She’s a copycat,” he said.

  Benjie laughed.

  “How much did it cost?” Mr. Kendrill asked.

  “Twenty-nine dollars,” Mrs. Kendrill said, “including a bag of kitten food. I wrote a check.”

  “Typical free cat,” Mr. Kendrill said. “Costs money right away.”

  “She’ll be worth it,” Benjie said. “Lizzy’s the best cat in the whole . . .” He hesitated, looking at Pete. Then he said, “Lizzy’s the best girl cat in the whole world.”

  Alex looked closer at Lizzy’s symmetrical patterns. She may be a common tabby cat, he thought, but Benjie was right: her markings were beautiful.

  Benjie took Lizzy to bed with him, but after he fell asleep, the kitten went downstairs and sat on Mr. Kendrill’s lap.

  Alex and Rocky were watching a movie. Alex nudged Rocky with his elbow, then nodded at his dad, who was petting Lizzy and smiling at her. The two boys grinned at each other.

  Later that night Lizzy curled up on the rug next to Pete, nuzzled her face up under his front leg, and purred. Her front claws kneaded in and out on Pete’s fur.

  “Isn’t that sweet?” Mrs. Kendrill said, before she and Mr. Kendrill went to bed. “She thinks Pete is her mother.”

  How embarrassing, thought Pete, but he lay still until Lizzy went to sleep. Then he eased away from her and began his nightly rounds. As the night watchcat he had to stay alert, especially with what had gone on in the neighborhood recently.

  5

  Pete crouched on Alex’s window ledge with his nose to the screen, glad that Alex liked fresh air at night even in winter. Pete inhaled deeply as he peered through the dark trees toward the house next door. His fur rose along the ridge of his back. He smelled fear, sharp animal fear, although he couldn’t tell what kind of animal was in danger.

  Something was wrong at Mary’s house.

  Pete stepped down to the bed, walked across Alex, who stirred and turned over, and jumped to the floor. He walked along the edge of Rocky’s sleeping bag, then trotted downstairs to the living-room window. It was closer to Mary’s house, but he could see only the trees and shrubs that were between the two properties.

  He raced back upstairs to his first viewpoint. A van stood in the neighbor’s driveway, its rear door open.

  As Pete watched, a figure hurried to the van and placed a large object inside. Pete tried to slide the window open farther, but it held fast. Frustrated, he pawed at the window.

  The figure returned to the house and came back a few seconds later carrying another object. It’s the burglar, Pete realized. He’s stealing things out of Mary’s house!

  Pete squinted, trying to get a better look, but the person went back inside. A gray animal about the size of a football came out the door. It had a heart-shaped face, small ears, and dainty pink paws. When it turned, its long skinny tail made it look like a rat from the back side.

  That must be Pearly, Pete thought. Mary’s possum was loose! He watched as Pearly waddled away from the house, toward the trees.

  Pete leaped on top of Alex.

  “Oooff!” Alex said. “Get off me, Pete. I was sound asleep.”

  “Get up,” Pete said. “There’s trouble next door.”

  “I fed you before I went to bed,” Alex said. “If you ate it all at once, you’ll have to wait unti
l morning for more.”

  “Look out the window,” Pete said. “The burglar is taking things out of Mary’s house, and he let Pearly out.”

  Alex groggily rubbed his hands across his eyes, then reached for the small clock on his nightstand. “It’s two o’clock in the morning,” he said. “I’m going to shut you in the laundry room at night if you act like this.”

  Pete leaped to the window ledge and pawed frantically at the glass. “Look!” he said. “The van is still there.”

  “What’s the matter with Pete?” Rocky said. “Is he sick?”

  “I think he’s trying to catch a fly,” Alex said. He clicked on the bedside lamp, then sat up and looked at the window. “I don’t see any fly,” he said.

  “You’re wasting time,” Pete said. “The possum is out there alone, headed for the woods.”

  “He seems excited,” Rocky said.

  “As long as I’m awake, I suppose I may as well feed him,” Alex said. “I can see we won’t get any sleep until I do.”

  Alex plodded down the stairs, but Pete didn’t follow.

  When Alex reached the bottom, he looked back. “Come on, Pete,” Alex said. “Are you hungry or not?”

  “You can’t see anything from down there,” Pete said. He dashed back into Alex’s bedroom.

  Wearily, Alex climbed the stairs. He kneeled on his bed and started to lift Pete off the window ledge. “You lost your chance to get fed,” he said.

  Just then he heard a sound from outside, like a car door closing. Apprehension slid down Alex’s arms. He turned off the light and looked out. Mary’s house was dark.

  “Rocky,” he whispered, “I heard something from next door.”

  Still holding Pete, Alex pushed the window farther open.

  Rocky stood beside Alex. “I hear it, too,” he said. “Someone just started a car, but they haven’t turned the lights on.”

  “Burglars?” Alex set Pete on the bed. “Hurry,” he told Rocky. “Maybe we can get out to the street before the car goes past and see who it is.”

  The two boys raced down the stairs, out the front door, and ran down Alex’s driveway. They were not yet to the street when a maroon-colored van passed through the pool of light from the streetlamp.