by Judi Curtin
And then I remembered. ‘If you don’t want to see your mum, then how come you want to …?’
‘Aha!’ she said. ‘I have a very special plan.’
So Beth told me her plan and to be fair to her, it was an amazing plan.
Come on,’ I said when she was finished talking. ‘Hurry up. Let’s go to Rico’s.’
* * *
‘Do you ever feel that you’ve spent too much of your life standing on a footpath, watching old-fashioned cars going by?’ asked Beth.
It was ten minutes later (or around forty years earlier), depending on which way you looked at it.
‘I feel like everyone’s staring at us again,’ I said. ‘I wish we’d had time to dress up. Maybe you could have worn the clothes I “borrowed” from my granny’s house.’
‘Oh no, we should have brought them back with us,’ she said. ‘Your granny might be looking for them.’
‘Too late – I think my mum sent them to the charity shop.’
‘Speaking of clothes, maybe we could go to the hospital and look for your jeans?’
‘No way! The cars and the way people are dressed make me think we’re in 1975, but we don’t know for sure what date it is. The nurses and the police might still be looking for you, and …’
‘OK, I get it. Maybe that wasn’t the best plan in the world. Hey, look who’s over there.’
I turned around quickly to see where she was pointing.
How many people did we know in 1975?
And how many of them did we actually want to see again?
I smiled when I looked up the road and saw Donna and Pam on their Chopper. It was lovely to see them, but for a minute I was confused.
Would they know Beth and me?
If we ran over and said their names would they think we were some creepy weirdos?
Beth seemed to be thinking about the same thing, but she was thinking out loud.
‘So if they know us, then we know it’s after our last visit, and if they don’t know us, then Rico’s got it wrong – and that’s so not like him. I wonder if …’
By now the girls and their funny purple bike were beside us.
‘Hi, Molly! Hi, Beth!’ said Donna.
‘Hey,’ I said, as I got ready to hug them, before remembering that friends didn’t hug in 1975. I took a step backwards and pretended I’d been fixing my hair. Beth giggled, but Donna and Pam didn’t say anything. Maybe they were just being polite.
‘Donna, Pam,’ I said. ‘It’s so good to see you again.’
It was the truth. I was happy to see them. Only problem was, I had no clue what to say next. How could I ask things like, ‘Would you mind telling us exactly when it was that Beth and I spent time hanging out in your house? Was that last week? Or a month ago?’
I was all out of ideas, so I looked desperately at Beth.
‘So … er … what’s been happening since we saw you last?’ she asked.
Pam gave her a funny look. ‘Not much has happened,’ she said. ‘You only left our house about an hour ago.’
‘That’s brilliant news,’ I said.
‘Why?’ asked Donna.
Because even though we saw you an hour ago, since then we’ve been back to our present, and weeks have passed by and my dad is much happier and he’s started writing again, but now Beth and I have come back to do one more thing for him, and now, because of what you just said, we know that Rico has landed us in the exact time and place we need to be.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘It’s just brilliant to see you again, that’s all.’
For a second Donna and Pam stared at us. I think Beth and I are nice people, but I couldn’t blame Donna and Pam for thinking we were very, very weird. But then Donna and Pam both smiled, showing us that they were nice girls too.
‘We’ve got to go,’ said Donna. ‘We just came down to buy some chocolates for my granny, and Mum and Dad will be waiting for me to get back so we can leave.’
‘We’d still like to meet you tomorrow,’ said Pam.
‘Yeah,’ said Donna. ‘We could have a lot of fun making that Swingball.’
‘And we can go to my place after,’ said Pam. ‘We’ve got a Sodastream!’
‘Wow,’ I said, hoping she wouldn’t guess I had no idea what a Sodastream was, and why we should be excited about it.
I really wanted to park all my mixed-up thoughts, and hang out and have fun with our new friends, but I knew that was impossible.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘We’d love that too.’
‘We still have your number,’ said Beth. ‘And if there’s any way at all to make this work, we’ll be in touch again, we promise.’
‘Sure thing,’ said Donna. ‘See ya!’
Then, wobbling a bit at first, our new friends raced off on the coolest bike I’d ever seen.
‘I like them,’ said Beth. ‘I wish we could spend a day hanging out with them, making Swingball.’
‘Me too. I wonder what Donna and Pam are like now – I mean in our now.’
‘They’ll be all grown up. Maybe they’ve got kids of their own. Maybe they’ve got amazing jobs they never could have dreamed of.’
‘They’re going to have such an exciting time. Imagine how surprised they’ll be when we get a woman president, and when they learn that women can do anything they want in life.’
‘Well, nearly anything,’ said Beth. ‘I heard my dad say that men are still in charge in most of the big companies all over the world.’
I smiled. ‘That’s bad – but you and I can work to change that.’
By now, Donna and Pam were at the end of the road. They stopped for a second, waved, and disappeared around a corner.
‘Right now we need those two to hurry home so Donna and her family can get going on their visit to her granny’s,’ I said.
‘Why?’
‘Because soon some nurses and receptionists from the hospital will be calling Donna’s house, expecting your parents to be there. We need that house to be empty.’
‘Hey,’ said Beth. ‘You mean …? I don’t want to get knocked down all over again, Molly. That was not exactly the best day of my life. That cut on my head’s just got better and my hair’s starting to grow back.’
‘And I so don’t want to go through another cold and lonely night in Eddie’s treehouse.’
But then my brain went all fuzzy. This was very confusing stuff for a thirteen-year-old.
‘Does all that stuff have to happen again?’ asked Beth.
‘I don’t know. I hope not. Maybe if you and I just keep away from that quiet country road and don’t bump into our other selves, everything will be fine.’
‘Good idea. Let’s not take any chances. Let’s just do what we came here to do, and get back home.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘Have you figured out how we’re actually going to do this?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Beth as she started to walk. ‘But we know we’re arrived at the right time, which is always good.’
‘True.’
‘And there’s some shops over there – maybe Rico’s got it right again.’
I followed her and we could see loads of shops selling weird and wonderful old-fashioned stuff. A second later, I smiled as I read the sign over the last shop – Animal Welfare Centre.
‘Remind me to get a medal or something for Rico,’ said Beth. ‘It looks like he’s worked his magic again.
‘Let’s hope we’re on time. Let’s hope Pablo is still here.’
‘But if he is, we still might have a problem. I know it’s 1975 and things are different, but I’m guessing they don’t just hand cats to random kids who walk in and say they want one. Won’t they ask hard questions and want to do a home-check and talk to our parents and stuff?’
‘Now you think of that?’
‘I guess we’ll figure it out as we go along, but first, let’s go and find Pablo.’
We crossed the road carefully. I wasn’t taking any chances so I held Beth’s hand like a mu
m would. She didn’t pull away, so I knew she was scared too.
Outside the shop were baskets of bright yellow T-shirts and hats and tea towels, all with the animal welfare logo. A sign next to them read – ‘Please buy one and support our good work.’
‘Those T-shirts are actually kind of cool,’ I said. ‘In a 1970s way! I wish we had money to buy one.’
‘Me too,’ said Beth as she opened the door of the shop. ‘But we’re looking for a cat, remember?’
I covered my ears to block out the sounds of barking and miaowing and squawking.
The woman behind the counter smiled. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘The animals are like children – they get a bit excited when the door opens. They’ll settle down in a minute.’
True enough, it wasn’t long before the shop was pretty quiet, except for the gentle chirpy sounds coming from a cage in the corner.
‘Well girls,’ said the woman. ‘Can I help you, or did you just come in for a look around?’
‘We’re looking for a cat,’ I said.
‘We always have lots of cats,’ said the woman. ‘Would you like a grown-up, or a cute little kitten? We have some very sweet black ones.’
‘Actually, what we’d like is a grown up cat,’ said Beth. ‘With grey and black stripes and a white patch under his chin.’
‘So you’re looking for a tabby,’ said the woman. ‘We actually have two of those.’
‘That’s great news,’ I said. ‘Is one of them a boy, with only three legs?’
The woman gave us a funny look. ‘That’s rather specific,’ she said. ‘With strays you generally have to take what you can get – and I’m afraid I’ve never had a cat exactly like the one you describe. Would you like to take a look at the tabbies we do have – even though they all have four legs?’
‘No, thanks,’ I said. ‘We especially wanted a three-legged one – you know – so we could give it extra love.’
The woman shook her head. ‘Well, if you change your minds, do come back in, but bring your mammy or daddy with you – you’re welcome to look around anytime you like, but we can’t actually give animals to unaccompanied children.’
‘OK, thanks,’ said Beth.
‘Well, that was a big success – not!’ she said when we were back out on the street.
I hugged her. ‘It was a great idea, and it’s not your fault it didn’t work out. I’m glad we never got a medal for Rico. Let’s get back home before … well, you know …’
Beth grabbed my arm. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I recognize that blue car.’
She was right. Eddie’s dad’s car stopped right next to us, and reversed into a parking space.
‘Ha!’ said Beth. ‘I knew Rico wouldn’t let us down. We’re just in time to—’
‘But if Pablo goes into the animal welfare shop we won’t be able to get him back. You heard what the woman said. If we don’t bring some grown-ups with us, we won’t be able to—’
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Oh Molly, I really wanted this to work, and now …’
Eddie’s dad had got out of the car, and was walking around to the back door.
‘Quick,’ I said, grabbing one of the bright yellow T-shirts. ‘Put this on.’
‘But—’
‘There’s no time to explain. Just do it.’
Beth didn’t argue. She pulled the t-shirt on over her uniform, and I did the same. Then I grabbed a cap for each of us, and we put them on.
‘What’s the plan?’ began Beth. ‘What are we—?’
Eddie’s dad was beside us now, holding the box with Pablo inside.
‘Hello, sir,’ I said. ‘How can we help you today?’
Next to me Beth stood up straighter, and I knew she knew what I was doing.
Up close, my grandfather was a serious, scary man. Part of me wanted to run away, but I knew I had to be brave, for my dad’s sake.
‘Can we help you with something?’ I asked, trying to stop my voice from shaking.
‘You look very young to be working here,’ he said.
‘Oh, it’s a special EU initiative,’ said Beth. ‘They’re trying to get us used to work at an early age.’
‘What’s the EU?’ he asked.
I knew the EU had been around for ages, but I guess it was called something different back in the day – only trouble was I had no clue what exactly that was.
Then Pablo came to our rescue by miaowing loudly.
‘Are you dropping that cat off?’ I asked.
‘Unfortunately, I am,’ he said. ‘One of my children is very attached to him, but my other child has been ill, so we don’t have a choice in the matter.’
Even though what you’re doing is so cruel?
Even though Eddie is still going to be upset in forty years’ time?
For a second, I wondered if I could make him change his mind. ‘You know cats are very clean creatures?’ I said. ‘They spend half their lives washing themselves.’
‘She’s right,’ said Beth. ‘And did you know that pets make people feel calm – and being calm would help your child to get better quicker.’
‘Are you telling me my business?’ he asked in a cold voice.
‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘We were just making a suggestion, but we can see now that you’ve already made up your mind. Why don’t you let us take the cat for you?’
I tried not to look too surprised when he actually handed me the box.
‘His name is Pablo,’ he said. ‘He likes warm milk, and chicken, and he’s afraid of balloons.’
For a second he looked like he was going to cry, but I guess men weren’t supposed to do that in the olden days. Maybe it was hard being a man when you had to pretend to be tough all the time.
‘Please do something for me,’ he said. ‘Please make sure that Pablo goes to a good home.’
‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘Tell your son that we will find him a wonderful home. Tell him not to be too sad. Tell him that Pablo will always be loved, and—’
‘How did you know that my child was a son?’
‘Oh,’ said Beth quickly. ‘I guess there was a fifty-fifty chance – and Molly got it right first go. She’s good at guessing.’
He was looking very suspicious, but luckily Pablo miaowed again.
‘We’d better get this guy inside,’ I said. ‘It must be time for his tea. I’ll warm the milk, Beth, and you can get that lovely chicken from the fridge.’
My granddad reached out and touched the lid of the box. ‘Bye, Pablo,’ he said. ‘Be good.’
I felt sorry for him. I guess he was just trying to do the right thing, and had no clue how much damage he was doing at the same time.
‘Tell Ed— I mean, tell your son that Pablo is going to be fine,’ I said. ‘We promise.’
‘I will,’ he said and then he jumped into his car and was gone.
‘Great idea, Moll,’ said Beth. ‘That was really—’
Just then the door of the shop opened and the woman came out.
‘Still here, girls?’ she said, smiling. I noticed that she was looking at our T-shirts and hats.
‘Oh,’ I said quickly. ‘We were just trying these on. No offence, but we don’t love them – yellow really isn’t our colour.’
I put the box down on the ground so I could take off the T-shirt, and once again, Pablo gave a loud miaow.
The woman stared at the box. ‘Have you got a cat in there? You didn’t have that with you a few minutes ago, so where did it come from?’
Answering either of those questions truthfully so wasn’t an option. If we had to hand Pablo over …
‘Miaow,’ said Beth loudly. ‘Miaow. Miaow.’
‘She does that sometimes,’ I said to the woman. ‘It’s kind of a protest because her dad won’t let her have a cat. It drives him crazy.’
‘So if your friend is the one who is making that awful noise, please tell me what is in the box,’ said the woman, who wasn’t smiling any more.
‘Have you ever heard of pet
rocks?’ I asked.
Now the woman made a face. ‘Indeed I have. They are the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. Don’t people know how many beautiful living, breathing animals we have here? Don’t they see what a waste it is to lavish time and money on a … stone? And the worst thing is, I’m afraid that foolish fad is never going to end.’
‘Oh, I think it will die out eventually,’ I said. ‘One day there will be a whole lot of kids who’ve never even heard of pet rocks.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ said the woman. ‘Now put those t-shirts and caps back in the basket – and be on your way.’
So we did as she said, then I picked up Pablo and we set off for home.
Chapter Nineteen
‘I see you brought a little friend back with you,’ said Rico.
The box was still closed and Pablo was being quiet for once, so I had no clue how Rico knew. For a second I felt scared. Was bringing animals back from the past against the rules?
Were there even rules?
What if time travel was dangerous for cats?
What if we did all this and …?
‘Er, is that OK?’ asked Beth. ‘Bringing a cat back with us? We didn’t steal him from a family or anything – we got him in the animal welfare centre.’
‘In that case, you did well,’ said Rico. ‘Not all cats found good homes in the 1970s, so I think you might have done this little guy a favour.’
‘So it’s really OK? I asked.
Rico smiled. ‘Your intentions are good, so it is perfectly fine. And animals adapt more easily than humans do.’
‘How do you mean?’ asked Beth.
He smiled, and for the first time ever, I understood that Rico wasn’t creepy – he was just a bit … different. ‘Animals don’t fret about time the way humans do,’ he said. ‘They simply live each day as it comes,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t recommend bringing an elephant or a rhinoceros back from your travels, but a cat – I think we can allow that. Just don’t make a habit of it.’
‘Thanks,’ I said as we headed for the door. ‘Thanks very much, Rico.’
* * *
When we were safely outside, I put the box down on the ground and opened a corner. Pablo’s little black face poked out and he licked my finger with his scratchy, sandpapery tongue.