Random Acts of Kittens

by Yamile Saied Méndez

  But the nest wasn’t by the couch where I’d left it last. My heart went into drumming mode.

  “Where are they?” I asked, looking around and then zooming in on my sister with what I hoped was a smoldering look. Next to her at the kitchen table was Hayden. He was pressing his lips as if trying not to laugh.

  Julieta grinned. “You haven’t said the magic words, Nati.”

  I glared at her. “Where are they?”

  Finally, Beli came over to me, draped her arm over my shoulder, and said, “Hayden helped me move them to the laundry room, mi amor.”

  “Why?” I asked, following Beli to the small room off the kitchen, where the nest was on the floor.

  “The mom kept moving the babies around,” Hayden hollered from the kitchen.

  “She did?” I asked Beli, horrified at what could happen if she hid the kittens and I couldn’t find them.

  “She did! They like quiet and warm places. And look, it’s much warmer in here, and if the kittens get used to the room, it’ll be easier to keep them contained and safe. They only eat and sleep now, but in a few weeks … Your mami agreed that it was best in the long term.”

  The kittens were nursing, and after one of her hello blinks, Gigi closed her eyes again. Poor mama! If I was sleep deprived, I couldn’t imagine how tired she was.

  “Breakfast’s coming soon,” I promised her as I crouched to check on the tiny one, Max, as Mami had named her.

  Like her still-nameless siblings, Max was kneading her mama’s tummy as she nursed. It reminded me of how Bodhi, Meera’s little brother, squeezed his applesauce pouch to extract all the goodness out of it. That had to be a lot of work for such tiny babies.

  “They’re the cutest things I’ve seen in my life,” Beli said, smiling brightly.

  “But what if my mom won’t let me keep them, Beli? Can you convince her?”

  Beli shook her head, and my heart sank. Then she added, “I believe your sister already put in a good word for you, and you must be asleep still because you didn’t realize what I said before.”

  I leapt to my feet. “Really? When? I saw Mami when she left for work, and she was acting hard to get. You know how she is.”

  Beli laughed. “You remind me so much of Gina when she was your age; it’s like going back in time.”

  Just when I was going to say I didn’t see how the two of us could be even remotely similar, Julieta came to look at the kittens, closely followed by Hayden. Suddenly, I realized he was probably smiling because of my hair, which had a life of its own in the nighttime. I usually woke up with a bird’s nest on my head. He didn’t seem to notice when I redid my ponytail. Instead, he was looking at the kittens adoringly. It was magical how people’s expressions changed when they saw the newborn cats.

  “I helped Juli place that makeshift litter box,” he said. Although he’d known my sister for years, he still struggled to say her name correctly, the J like an H. When he said Juli, it sounded like Wooly. I disguised my laughter into a cough, even though I felt better this morning.

  “I had a couple of boxes of litter and a scratching post at home. When Juli told me about the kittens, I thought you might need them more.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “How do you know so much about what cats need?”

  Hayden raked his fingers through his shaggy brown hair and said, “Remember Catsby and Bagheera?”

  “Who?”

  Julieta clicked her tongue. “Remember his cats? Bagheera did this to me in fifth grade.” She rolled up her sleeve and showed me three silvery lines along her arm. “It was the first day I went over to your house. Remember, Hay?”

  Hayden got a melancholy look in his murky blue eyes. “How could I forget?”

  “Best day of my life.” If I had to sit and look at Julieta’s gooey expression for one more second, I’d get a sugar spike.

  “The cat did that?” I asked, tracing my finger on her scars. I had no idea. But then, we were six years apart. I’d been too young to remember.

  “Bagheera scratched me that day, and forever and until the day they died they both hated me. Catsby would wait for me by every door and bite my ankles.” She laughed, but I recognized the fear she still felt when she remembered.

  “They were jealous,” Beli said. “Because you spent so much time with Hayden even then.”

  Hayden blushed and nodded. “They respected you in the end, though. Right, Jul?”

  Julieta scrunched up her nose. “Did they?”

  We all laughed, more to break up the tension than because it was funny. I’d never known Hayden’s cats had been her enemies. That explained why she didn’t like cats. But then, why did she want a kitten for Hayden? To compete for his attention? It didn’t sound smart to me.

  “Ah!” Beli exclaimed, startling us all, including Gigi. “I left the quesitos in the oven.” She ran to the kitchen.

  “So,” I said eagerly, “to make sure I understood correctly: Mami said yes? Just like that? She said I can keep the kittens until they’re old enough?”

  Hayden petted Gigi, and Julieta smiled again. “Yes. She said you won’t get to keep any of them, but that they can stay until they’re old enough.”

  That had been exactly what I wanted, but the thought of saying goodbye to the cats dampened my mood like a cloud blocking the sun on a pool day.

  “She also said that if you can’t find homes, they’ll have to go to the shelter, so to keep that in mind. They go on Valentine’s Day and not a day later. Also, she won’t be in charge of anything. It’s your time to shine, sis.”

  I knew now the shelter wasn’t the scary place of outdated movies. But I loved the kittens, and if I couldn’t keep them, I wanted to be the one finding them the best homes. Now I had to figure out how to place them.

  Julieta and Hayden left to go skiing with their friend Sienna, and I ate a slightly burned pastelito by the nest, mesmerized at how beautiful the kittens were. Until someone knocked on the door.

  Beli went to answer, and a voice exclaimed, “You gotta be kitten me! Still not dressed for the day?”

  I laughed even before I turned to see Reuben’s face, reddened by the cold.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I asked.

  Beli ruffled his hair as he walked in. “I have a plan!” He grinned and showed me the first page in his notebook, entitled “Operation Kitten Cupid.”

  Reuben and I plotted while the kittens slept. They would be ready to go to their fur-ever homes at eight weeks old, but the logistics would start now. Operation Kitten Cupid would help us find their future owners.

  They only woke up to nurse or when their mama left them for some much-needed food and potty breaks. Every time the babies missed their mama’s warm body next to them, they meowed pitifully and tried to find her, their tiny limbs jerking in fits. As soon as their cries became frantic, Gigi gobbled down her food and went back to her babies. She licked the crumbs of the kitten milk replacement powder sprinkled on the menudo Beli had prepared.

  “At least someone loves my food,” Beli said dramatically.

  After much deliberation, we finally agreed on the most important thing—names. Going with the royal theme, we settled on John (Johnnycakes) for one of the gray kittens, Josefina (Fifi) for his twin, Meghan (Meggie) for the orange girl, Henry (Harry) for the tuxedo boy, and Maxima (Max) for the rainbow baby.

  I wondered what Meera would have wanted to name them. Last year, she would have been here with us.

  Reuben insisted that once we had names, the following item on the agenda was the adoption plan.

  As we thought, I ate the mac and cheese I’d made myself from a box mix. To make my grandma happy, I’d put some beans in a corner of the plate, but I didn’t love the spices in Puerto Rican food, and I definitely didn’t like menudo.

  Reuben was another story. He ate anything put in front of him, especially if the food had taken hours of preparation, like his mom’s arepas or Beli’s menudo. Judging by the three servings and the look of utter bliss o
n his face, the menudo was exceptional. I didn’t know where he stored all the food he ate. He was skinny like a straw. He was tall, though, compared to me at least. Between bites, he scribbled in the notebook.

  “We could stand by a corner at the roundabout with posters,” Reuben said as he sipped on the kids’ piña colada Beli had made him. “You know the girl who sells the fudge there earns tons of money every week?”

  “I’m not interested in standing for hours, begging for someone to take them off our hands, Reuben.” I had a hot chocolate for dessert in front of me. “If we do that, any person could come asking for a kitten and we’d have no way to know if they have good intentions.” The babies hadn’t even been born yesterday at this time, but by now, they were my heart. I had to make sure they’d be happy forever, and that their future humans really loved them unconditionally and in the way they deserved.

  “We need to make it so everyone wants one. Supply and demand, remember?” I said.

  Math was my weakness, but I loved how businesses worked. I started Slime Supreme because I loved playing with slime, and I loved to share it with others. But materials were expensive, so I had to charge more than that to buy supplies. Still, I couldn’t keep up with the demand, so Papi had explained to me the laws of supply and demand. The more limited the goods were, the more expensive or difficult to get they became.

  There were only five kittens, plus the mamacat, and I was hoping there would be more than six families who wanted them.

  Reuben exchanged a look with Beli, who was sitting in a sunbeam by the window as she knitted with pink and red yarn.

  “We can’t make it look like we want to get rid of them,” I said. “They’re precious. Don’t you see?”

  “It would be easier, that’s all I mean,” Reuben said, and Beli nodded, siding with him. “Besides, your mom said that if the kittens don’t have permanent homes by Valentine’s, then they go to the shelter. Which, you know, our local shelter is a good place, but they’re swamped already. They can use all the help they can get.” He accentuated each word with a knock on the table. “What should we do?”

  I eyed Beli. She was concentrating on counting stitches. I took my chance and whispered my idea to Reuben. “I was thinking that we could set up a contest. Kind of like the lottery we did for the most exclusive slime flavors. Only serious slimers could buy a ticket. Remember?”

  Reuben shuddered, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was cold, or if my words brought back bad memories. He had reason for both. It was freezing in here, and I still had nightmares about Slime Supreme.

  At first, the exclusive slime lottery had been a total success. But soon, people started complaining that the new system made them feel left out. Meera and I couldn’t agree on a solution, and without consulting me, she’d posted the recipe for Caribbean Blue on our AstroSnap account. Caribbean Blue was the special formula Papi and I had created. She had no right to give it away.

  The whole fifth grade took sides, mostly with Meera. They thought I was just being mean, keeping the recipes and exclusive slimes to myself for no reason. When word reached Mrs. Snow, the principal, she’d declared Slime Supreme done forever. Meera and I had hardly spoken since. I may have been in trouble plenty of other times, but it was Meera who earned me my reputation. Instead of apologizing to me, she’d started crying, saying she’d wanted to include everyone.

  “It will be different this time,” I said, patting Reuben’s hand. “We could have an application with questions to weed out people who aren’t serious about having a pet, or who wouldn’t be ideal candidates. In the meantime, I’ll make profiles for the kittens, like in the book Mrs. Jenkins read the class last year, remember Gaby, Lost and Found? Then I’ll match up each kitten to one of the candidates and have them meet on Valentine’s Day. Or no! The day before so they can spend their first Valentine’s together. What do you think?”

  “Valentine’s is on a Saturday this year,” Reuben said. “I guess it would work.” Reuben shrugged a shoulder, and I knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. That given my reputation and the whole thing with Slime Supreme, not a lot of people would apply for a kitten if they knew I was behind the Kitten Operation.

  “No one has to know I’m in charge,” I said quietly. “Or that you are, for that matter, because then they’ll put two and two together, and people will guess.”

  “It’ll be hard to keep it from Meera,” Reuben said. He tried to seem neutral, but every time he talked about her, he blushed to the tips of his ears. She was a topic we avoided for the sake of our friendship. I was sure he already knew about Cap, and I was grateful he’d come to help me when she probably needed just as much support. But Meera had a lot of friends. I only had Reuben.

  Unlike everyone else in our grade, Reuben had refused to take sides, staying friends with both of us. I pretended it didn’t hurt that he didn’t completely side with me, but until now, his split loyalty hadn’t been a problem.

  Meera and I had known each other most of our lives, being neighbors and all. Then we met Reuben at resource class, where Meera and I both got the extra help we needed for math. Meera because of her dyslexia, and me for dyscalculia, two faces of the same coin. My dyscalculia was why I had a hard time understanding numbers, just like Meera mixed up letters and words.

  Reuben had ADHD, but not the disruptive kind. He just traveled in his mind and missed complete lessons if he wasn’t careful.

  “Meera can’t know,” I said, and it sounded like a warning. “If she finds out, then the whole school will know the truth, and the kittens will end up in the shelter. Like you said, the shelter needs all the help it can get, and we can help. Besides, we can be more detailed with the application process.”

  Reuben’s eyes widened. “More extra, you mean.”

  I sighed, frustrated.

  Reuben patted my hand and said, “You make it sound like it will be a catastrophe if you don’t find the kittens homes.”

  “It will be, Reuben. I’m serious,” I said. “What if the kittens go to homes where they’re not treated the absolute best? I know there’s a perfect home out there for each of these little cuties. And if you betray me and the kittens go to less than ideal homes because you can’t keep the secret from Meera … then I guess you’re not a real friend after all. You don’t have to help me. I understand.”

  There was a brief pause, and who knew what was going on in his mind, but I prayed silently that he wouldn’t leave, that he’d choose me instead of Meera for once.

  Finally, when my eyes had startled prickling, he nodded and said, “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  “Good,” I said, hoping my voice sounded cool as mamacat’s nose and not shaky with relief like I actually felt. “The plan is this, then: I’ll study the applicants and watch them closely before making a decision. When people don’t really talk to you, you have the chance to observe them. I’ll be able to match the kittens to the kids who deserve them.”

  “So, we make a cat-alog, and a people-log,” Reuben said, taking notes. He still had two bright splotches in his cheeks.

  “Exactly,” I said, not falling for his cheesiness this time, but appreciating it all the same. “The pairings have to be perfect so everyone wins.”

  Reuben leaned toward me with his forearms resting on the table. “But how do we spread the word if you don’t want to put up posters? You don’t have access to your Astro account yet, do you?”

  I shook my head sadly. AstroSnap was the school platform for social media communications. The PTA had come up with it to keep students off sites parents couldn’t control. My account got locked when Slime Supreme collapsed. After all, I did the main marketing through AstroSnap. I tried to convince the principal that Astro hadn’t been the problem. That it was all Meera’s fault for posting the recipe there. But without listening to my reasons, Mami and Principal Snow agreed that it was best if I canceled my Astro, which ended my social life.

  Which didn’t mean I didn’t keep up with the school thr
ough a loophole Mami hadn’t known about. I’d just created a Fake Astro, a FAstro. Everyone had one.

  “I don’t have an Astro …” I said, adding a pause for suspense. “But there’s my FAstro.”

  Reuben smiled slyly. “I knew it! You’ve been lurking the whole time? What’s your username?”

  Now it was my turn to shrug only one shoulder. The less he knew, the better. “It’s not important. Tonight, I’ll change it to Operation Kitten, or … wait!” I exclaimed, my mind lighting up with an idea. “What about Operation Kitten Cupid. OKC for short.”

  Reuben raised an eyebrow. “Oklahoma City? Like the Thunder?”

  “Yikes, no, then … What about Kitten Cupid?”

  “Purrfect!” he said.

  “I’ll post a link to the survey-slash-application, and then I’ll update with pictures and videos of the kittens. That way we’ll keep the interest going until before Valentine’s and spread the word on the importance of volunteering and fostering, and even spaying and neutering pets. That way, the message will help other kittens besides mine.”

  Reuben thought, tapping a pen to his chin. He must have not found a flaw in the plan because he finally nodded. “I’ll help you write up the application and then read the entries with you. How about that?”

  I loved the idea.

  Then he scrunched up his nose and asked, “We’re making a profile for the mom too, right? A total of six cats to find homes for.” He stuck his tongue out as he jotted in his notebook.

  Something wild jumped in my heart, just like when the mamacat had made herself bigger and fiercer when she was protecting her babies. “Not the mama … I’m going to keep Gigi,” I said, and Reuben looked at me as if I were speaking in pig latin. “If no one claims her, I’m going to keep her.”

  Reuben chewed at the end of his pencil. “And … your mom will let you?”

  If I asked my mom now, she’d say no. And really, I had no idea what mess I was getting myself into wanting to keep Gigi, but I couldn’t imagine having her go through the whole process of finding a new family. She’d chosen me to protect her. She’d found me. I shrugged.