by Coco Simon
Each kitten looked different from the others, though they were all tiny, with oversize heads, short skinny tails, and super-fluffy fur. One kitten had an orange back with a mostly white face and chest; one had pale orange and white stripes all over; and the other was darker, almost solidly orange, with a white triangle on its chest. The mom also had orange and white stripes, and big white paws.
“They’re little Creamsicle fluffballs!” I cooed.
Isabel seemed amused by them, but she was acting standoffish, almost as if she didn’t want to like them.
I wanted to say, “I guess now that you’re a snake person, you can’t find kittens cute, right?”
But I didn’t.
I kept picking up the kittens and snuggling them until they struggled to get away. Then I’d scoop up another one. “They don’t want me to hold them! They keep running away!” I said.
“Keep trying. It’s good to handle them,” said my mom. “It helps to socialize them.”
“Why are their ears like that?” asked Isabel. The kittens’ ears were all sort of small and folded in.
“Because they’re still so young,” said my dad. “Their ears will get bigger and open up in another week or two. They’re practically newborns.”
“Wait, so how old are they now?” I asked.
“We think about six weeks,” said my dad.
“Are they boys or girls?” asked Isabel.
“Actually, we can’t tell yet,” said my mom. “They have to be around eight weeks old for us to know for sure.”
“Huh,” I said. “Are you sisters or brothers?” I leaned in and asked them in baby talk.
“Does it matter?” laughed my dad. “They don’t care. They’ll still play together and have fun and snuggle up either way.”
I thought about it, and then I shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”
Suddenly the doorbell rang. “It’s Tamiko and Allie!” I said. “I’ll get it.” I hopped up, and my family closed the circle to cover for where I’d been. I wondered how Isa would treat Tamiko and Allie.
I flung open the door. “Chicas!” I cried. “Wait till you see!”
They put down the bags they were carrying and scurried across the living room to where my family sat and the kittens were waiting.
“OMG!” cried Allie, putting her hands to the sides of her face, almost as if the kittens’ cuteness pained her.
“Seriously? These are ridiculous!” said Tamiko. “Hi, Isabel! Hi, Drs. Perez!”
“Hi, girls!” my parents greeted my friends. Isabel didn’t say anything, but she scooted over to make room for the three of us to join the circle.
“Where’s the mommy cat?” asked Allie.
“Up there,” said my dad, pointing to the back of the sofa, where the cat had curled up and fallen fast asleep.
Tamiko laughed. “She sure doesn’t seem too concerned about us holding her babies!”
My mom smiled. “She’s been so vigilant for so long. Mama cats get tired from all the work. They have to nurse the cats and herd them so that they don’t wander off. Then the moms are always licking them clean, and their licking motion helps the babies go to the bathroom, which they can’t even do on their own. When the kittens get to an age when they don’t need their mama to hover over them, sometimes the moms need a break. She must trust us and feel comfortable here already if she’s gone off to sleep like that. She needs the rest.”
“Poor thing,” said Allie. “That sounds like a lot of work.” She looked back at the kittens. “Is it okay if we touch them or pick them up?”
“Sure,” said my dad. He snagged one of the kittens and offered it to Allie.
“Oh! What a little cutie!” she said as she snuggled the kitten against her chest. “I wish I could have another cat.”
“I wish I could have one,” I said quietly.
My mom put her hands in the air. “Remember, people. This is just temporary! These cats need forever homes!”
I sighed and caught Allie’s eye. She raised her eyebrows at me, and I knew she was asking about Naga. I gave a tiny shake of my head to let her know that my parents still didn’t know. Allie rolled her eyes.
Tamiko saw the look and gushed, “Hey! Amber says Gizmo is doing great!” Amber was our friend who had adopted the abandoned shih tzu that we’d fostered.
“I know!” I said. “She showed me a photo this morning at school. He’s all groomed and filled out and handsome now.”
“That pup was a fighter,” said my dad, shaking his head in admiration. “We didn’t think he’d make it at first, he was so skinny and sick.”
“Remember Roman, Dad? Isa and I were just talking about him. . . .”
“He’s still a client of ours!” said my mom happily. “We get to see him at least once a year. He’s doing great! His name is Paco now.”
“You’re so lucky. We fall in love with all these animals for a few days, and then we never see them again!” I said.
Isabel spoke up. “Yeah. You’re with pets all day, so you don’t realize what it’s like. We foster these guys, and then they’re gone!”
My parents exchanged a look, and my mom sighed. “I know. Maybe when you’re in high school we can get something low-maintenance and easy and you girls can be in charge of it.”
I glanced at Allie, then looked quickly away. Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, I pleaded silently.
Tamiko interrupted with a cheery, “Hey, so what are y’all naming these critters?”
Isabel and I looked at each other. We always picked names together for the animals that stayed with us, even though their names usually changed once they were gone. (Gizmo had been “Chichi” before Amber adopted him.) Usually we’d each write three names down on scraps of paper. Then we’d pull the name or names out of a dish, and that would be that. It was the only fair way. The Team P way.
But today my dad had another idea. “Why don’t each of you name a cat? Here.” He handed the dark orange one to Isabel, the mostly white one to me, and the light orange one to Allie, and he gestured to the mama cat for Tamiko.
I looked down at the white one in my lap and thought for a second. Then I said, “Marshmallow.”
Allie smiled at hers and said, “Butterscotch.”
Tamiko grinned and said, “Honey.”
We all looked at Isa expectantly. Would she play along with us or go totally rogue and name hers “Spike”?
“Cinnamon,” she said, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. “But I’ll call her ‘Monster’ as a nickname. Get it? ‘Mon’ from ‘Cinnamon’! My little monster!”
“Oh, Isa!” said Allie, laughing. “Always the renegade!”
“Hey, the gift!” said Tamiko, hopping up and scurrying to their bags by the door. “We bought this for you guys on the way over.”
Tamiko and Allie presented me with a small plastic bag. I opened it and inside found the toy that Allie’s cat, Diana, loved best—a telescoping wand with a long ribbon on it that pulled a little tuft of feathers and streamers around.
“We used to play for hours with Diana with one of these, and she loved it,” said Allie.
“I remember! Thank you so much!” I looked at Isa and spontaneously held the toy out to her. “Here. You try it first,” I said.
Isabel hesitated, but then took it from me and extended the handle. She dangled the toy in front of Marshmallow, and she (or he?) instantly pounced on it, rolled onto her back, held it in her front paws, and scrabbled at it with her rear paws.
Cinnamon bounded over to see what was up, and she got in on the act too. She stood on her hind legs, opened her front paws wide, and dive-bombed Marshmallow. We all cracked up, watching the kitten antics. Every time Isabel could get the toy free, she’d zoom it around, and the kittens would chase and pounce and wrestle.
“It’s funny how they play together,” said Allie.
“They remind me of you two when you were little!” my mom said to me and Isabel.
“Totally!” a
greed my dad. “You’d tumble all over the place, wrestling over things and getting into mischief, and then we’d find you both exhausted, curled up together, fast asleep.”
“Awwww!” teased Tamiko.
I stole a glance at Isabel to see her reaction. She was looking down and jerking the toy around, but she was smiling. Sisters forever, I thought.
After a bit, my parents went to start dinner, and Isabel wandered off upstairs. Tamiko found a cardboard box in our garage and with a box cutter and some packing tape quickly created a play space for the kittens, complete with ramps, different levels, and a little hiding area.
When it was finished, we all oohed and aahed over it. I caught myself about to say “It’s just like Naga’s cave!” but luckily I didn’t.
My friends had to go by six thirty. They were reluctant to leave, and I was sad to see them go. Hanging out with the three of us and Isa—even for that brief time—had felt like the old days, when things had been happier and less complicated at my house.
Little did I know how much more complicated things would get!
CHAPTER FIVE
KITTEN CAFE-FOR A DAY!
The week passed in a blur of after-school activities and kitten fur. I spent every free moment I had at home playing with the kitties (to the harm of my homework). During the school day and workday, when the cats were home alone, they were kept closed up in the kitchen with their food (wet for the kittens, dry for the mom), water, and litter box. When Isa or I got home after school, our job was to release them into the living room and play with them for a while.
It was funny how the cats’ personalities wound up being just like the people who’d named them. Honey, the mama cat, was inquisitive and into everything. I kept finding her sleeping in new and more outrageous places every day, like in the linen closet, in a potted plant, and once, when she had somehow gotten into the garage, on the hood of my parents’ car. She was definitely sporting Tamiko’s flair and originality.
Butterscotch was just like Allie: she was sweet and cuddly and mellow. Marshmallow was, ahem, everywhere and into everything. Anytime another kitten would start playing with something or checking something out, Marshmallow would race over and poke her nose in. All week as I watched Marshy, I thought about Isabel’s criticisms of me, and that made me see myself in a new (not entirely positive) light. Why did I sign up to help with everything? Why did I need to be helping and volunteering all the time, even if it compromised my schoolwork? Why couldn’t I say no to anyone? The way she’d said it had been mean, but it did make me think.
As for Cinnamon, “Monster” was a good nickname. She was tough and brave, and she was the one always venturing farther and farther away from “home”—her siblings, her play space, and her mom. Maybe that was Isa’s jam. She was ready to try things away from our little family.
It just hurt that I was being left behind.
I wondered how Marshmallow and Butterscotch felt. They did nothing but play with each other all day. No sibling problems here.
On Sunday I needed to be half an hour early to work at Molly’s Ice Cream to make up for the week before, so I conscientiously finished all my extracurricular work and homework on Saturday. I had to admit that it felt amazing to wake up Sunday morning without a care in the world! After church and brunch, my parents went to see an emergency patient and check on the renovations. They said they wouldn’t be home until six and they’d bring home pizza for an easy dinner. I was in charge of babysitting the kitties until it was time for me to leave at eleven forty-five. Then Isa would take over until our parents got home.
I was dressed and ready to go to work by eleven thirty, and just as I was pulling on my shoes, I heard a muffled scream from upstairs.
“Isa?” I called.
“Sierra! Come quick!” Isabel’s voice sounded far away, but I could hear the panic in it.
I glanced at the kittens, and they seemed like they’d be okay for a minute alone, so I bounded up the stairs, two at a time.
Isabel’s door was closed, so I pushed it open and poked my head in. Isabel was pale and shaking a little bit.
“Come in and close the door. Quick!” she said.
I did as I was told while asking, “What’s up?”
Isabel looked at me in horror. “Naga’s missing!”
“What?” My mouth formed an O of shock as my eyes darted all around the room. “Is she in here?”
Isabel shrugged miserably as she cast her eyes all over. “I don’t know. I left my bedroom door open when I went to take my shower. I guess I didn’t put the books back properly after I cleaned her tank earlier, and she pushed her way out. She might be here or . . .”
“OMG, the kittens! Could she have gone downstairs?” Francie’s word—“constrictor”—passed through my mind.
“I don’t know!”
Scared and frustrated, I glanced at my phone. It read 11:35.
“Isa, I am so sorry, but I have to go. I have to leave for work in the next ten minutes.”
Isabel glared at me. “Fine! So when I need help, I don’t count? Allie and Tamiko come first?”
I sighed. “Isabel, it’s my job. I was late last week because I was helping you with the tank, and now I’m in trouble. I can’t be late again or I’ll be fired.”
“What am I going to do? I can’t watch the kittens and look for Naga at the same time. And what if Mom and Dad come home before I find her?”
“Isa, you have to tell them either way. This has gone on too long. If you don’t tell Mom and Dad about Naga tonight, I’m telling them.”
Isabel looked downcast. “You know what? I don’t really want to keep her anymore,” she said in a small voice. “She’s too much work. Also . . . she’s cool and all . . . but . . . she’s not that cuddly.”
I nodded sadly at Isabel. “I’m sorry.”
“The kittens made me realize . . .”
I nodded again. “I know.”
“I just need to find her another home, I think,” she said.
“I’m sure Mami and Papi could help you find her a home.”
“I guess,” she said quietly.
I took a deep breath, and then, thinking of the cat cafés in Japan that Tamiko had told us about, I blurted, “I’m going to take the kittens to work with me. Just let me find a box, and I’ll leave with them. Then you can look for Naga without any distractions.”
Isa looked up gratefully. “Really?” she said. And then, “Wait. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
I was actually getting enthused by the idea the more I thought about it.
“Yes! We need to find homes for the kitties, right? Plus, Mom said they need lots of handling to socialize them—which they’re not getting enough of here—and it solves our Naga problem. I’m doing it!” I finished confidently. “As soon as you find Naga, you can come to Molly’s and pick them up, and don’t tell Mom or Dad. Okay?”
“O-kaaaay?” said Isabel skeptically, but I was already committed.
“Let’s just pinky promise to keep each other’s secrets for now. Deal?”
Isabel nodded and stuck out her pinky for me to hook with mine. “Deal,” she said solemnly as we shook on it with our pinkies. For a second I felt like we were five again, or eight, or even eleven, when we’d still been partners in crime.
I jogged down the stairs and popped into the garage to find a spare box. Unsurprisingly, given the state of our garage, the box that the cats had arrived in was still there. I grabbed it and the towel that was folded inside, and I went into the living room to bundle the kittens into the box. I’d leave Honey behind. She was too big to sit in a box for an hour, and anyway, I figured she could outrun Naga if need be. Or at least I hoped she could.
I put the box into an old laundry cart we had and added a water bowl and some food, then called Tamiko to tell her my plan. She thought it was a “killer” idea and offered to meet me outside Molly’s in fifteen minutes or so. I was relieved that she didn’t think I was crazy.
I se
t out for Molly’s, walking as fast as I could, avoiding the bumps and cracks in the sidewalk as I pushed the laundry cart. I had sweet, furry precious cargo, after all!
I rounded the corner and spied Tamiko waiting for me under the blue-and-cream-striped awning of Molly’s. She saw me and darted over to say hi.
“Like I said, animal cafés are all the rage in Japan. Since we can’t charge an entry fee like they do there, we’ll just have to charge a little extra ‘playing fee’ for people who want to sit with the kittens and play with them. Right?”
I nodded, suddenly nervous. Tamiko had a tendency to come up with marketing and publicity ideas for Molly’s that she thought were great but that Mrs. Shear found kind of hasty and half-baked. I worried this might fall into that category. (Ha-ha. Get it? “Cat”-egory?) I gulped when we reached the door, and Tamiko held it for me so that I could wheel in the kitten cart.
As luck would have it (or not), Mrs. Shear was standing right inside the door, straightening some menus. Noontime was always pretty quiet at Molly’s, I’d noticed. The real daytime rush was after lunch and then again after beach time, in season.
“Girls! Hi! You’re here so early today! I just sent Allie to the grocery store to buy some sugar for my Saint Louis Cake ice cream,” she said cheerfully. “What’s in the cart?”
Tamiko took center stage, explaining the idea but talking a mile a minute. “See, we have some kittens that need to be adopted, and you know about cat cafés, right? In Japan? And so we thought it would be so cool to do that here? And we can put it up on social media to get people in, and it would be really good publicity, and maybe we could donate some of the fees to the animal shelter. . . .” Tamiko hadn’t even taken a breath. I already knew the plan, and even I was confused!
Mrs. Shear shook her head as if to clear it. “Okay, wait, slow down. What?”
I jumped in and explained about the pet cafés in detail. Mrs. Shear folded her arms across her chest, leaned back against the counter, and listened. Then Tamiko interjected again, saying, “We thought it would be cool to do it here. Today. Since Sierra’s watching these kittens.”