Zoe finished reading her report. “How many people want to read that book, now that they have heard about it?” asked Mrs. Schraalenburgh.
Every hand in the class except Cricket’s went up.
“Now you know why Zoe got an A on her report. She has done an excellent job of sharing her pleasure with all of us. I notice that Cricket didn’t raise her hand. But she doesn’t have to read the book. She already did,” said the teacher, smiling at Cricket. “And when she gave a copy of it to Zoe as a present, she was sharing her pleasure of the book in still another way.”
Cricket could have said that when she bought the book for Zoe, she hadn’t even read it yet. But she didn’t. She liked what Mrs. Shraalenburgh said about her sharing her pleasure of the book by giving it as a present. It almost made up for the bad mark she got.
Mrs. Schraalenburgh wrote Beverly Cleary’s name on the chalk board so that everyone could copy it and said “Now when you go to the library, you’ll know who the author is.” Cricket blushed to see the correct spelling on the board. It had really been foolish on her part to write a book report when she didn’t have the book right in front of her to copy the author’s name. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
A few other students read their book reports, too. Cricket noticed that none of them had made covers for their reports. It had been silly of her to waste her time making a fancy cover if Mrs. Schraalenburgh didn’t give her extra credit for it.
“There isn’t time to read any more reports,” said Mrs. Schraalenburgh after a while. “This was just to get us started. Next month, we will have oral book reports and everyone will have a turn. So start looking for a good book to read. Don’t wait until the last minute.”
The bell rang for dismissal. Zoe edged over to Cricket. “Thanks again for the book,” she said.
Cricket nodded her head. She was relieved that Zoe didn’t ask her what grade she had gotten on her report. If the situation had been reversed and Cricket had received an A and Zoe had not read her report aloud, Cricket knew she would have been dying to ask.
“I’ll bet we have the same taste in books,” said Zoe. “Maybe we could go to the library together after school sometime. You could show me the books you’ve read and I could show you the ones I’ve read.”
Cricket found herself smiling at Zoe. It sounded as if it might be fun. There had never been another girl in school who liked to read as much as she did. Maybe Zoe was right. Maybe she would be a friend to her.
“Okay,” she agreed. And suddenly, it didn’t matter so much what grade she had gotten on her report. Next time she would get an A. And if Zoe got one, too, it wouldn’t be so terrible. After all, they were the two smartest girls in Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s class.
8
The
Teacher’s
Pets
One Monday morning in early December Mrs. Schraalenburgh came into class looking very unhappy. The students did not have to wait long to find out what was troubling her.
“My cat Marmalade disappeared over the weekend,” the teacher announced to the class. “I’ve posted signs on all the streetlights, and I hope someone will find him. If any of you see an orange cat in the area around Willow or Spruce Street, please let me know. It may be Marmalade.”
“My grandmother had a cat that got lost,” said Hope.
“Did she find it?” asked Julio.
“Nope. It just disappeared.”
“It must have been kidnapped,” said Julio.
“Catnapped,” Lucas said, correcting his friend.
“I don’t think anyone would want to kidnap Marmalade,” said Mrs. Schraalenburgh. “He’s just an ordinary cat. But he’s lived with me for six years, and so I consider him to be a special part of my family and I miss him.”
“I’ll tell my stepfather to write about it in the newspaper,” offered Zoe. “That way a lot of people will be looking for him, and someone will find him for you for sure.”
Cricket glared over at Zoe. That was just like her. She’d get her stepfather to write about Marmalade and when the cat was found—no matter who found the cat—Zoe would get the credit. It made Cricket feel furious. The two girls had never gotten around to going to the library together. And the growing feeling of friendship that Cricket had begun to feel for Zoe disappeared quickly at the thought of Zoe finding Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s cat.
All day Cricket kept thinking about Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s lost cat. Cricket had never had a pet, but she could imagine how bad her teacher felt at losing Marmalade. She hoped that Mrs. Schraalenburgh would find him, but she didn’t want Zoe to get all the credit. In the middle of a page of arithmetic problems using decimals, Cricket got a great idea. After school she would go looking for the cat herself. If she could find the missing Marmalade, then Mrs. Schraalenburgh would finally appreciate her. Cricket decided that she would have to go looking this very afternoon. If she waited until tomorrow, when it was in the newspaper, then the streets would be filled with people searching for Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s orange cat.
After making her plan, the rest of the day seemed to drag along. But finally the dismissal bell rang. Cricket rushed home and dropped her backpack in the kitchen. “I can’t stay,” she told her mother. “I’m going to look for Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s cat.”
“Where is it?” asked Mrs. Kaufman.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find it,” said Cricket.
“Are you dressed warmly enough?” asked Mrs. Kaufman. “It feels as if it’s cold enough to snow.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Cricket said, reassuring her mother. She was wearing her winter jacket with a hood, and she had on her woolen hat and matching mittens, too.
Willow Street was not far from where Cricket lived. Cricket lived on Sycamore Street and all the streets near her home were named after other trees. There was Ash and Maple and Elm and Spruce and Willow.
As she got closer to Willow Street, Cricket slowed her pace. She looked around, wondering if any of the other kids in her class had gotten the same idea about looking for the cat. It would be just like Lucas to show up, she thought. Luckily, there was no sign of Lucas and his sidekick Julio or any of her other classmates.
Cricket looked for the missing cat behind every tree and underneath the cars parked on the street. Once she thought she saw a cat jumping out of a pile of raked leaves, but it was only a squirrel. He ran up a tree and was soon being chased by another squirrel. The cold stung Cricket’s cheeks and when she exhaled steam came from her mouth. Cricket wondered if the squirrels ever got cold. Maybe the reason they run around so much is so they can keep warm, she thought. A woman came by, walking her dog. “Have you seen an orange cat?” asked Cricket.
“No, I haven’t,” said the woman. “I don’t usually notice cats, but Comet always does. He charges after them and pulls me behind. He hasn’t found any cats to chase this afternoon, I’m glad to say.”
Cricket passed a streetlight and saw one of the signs that her teacher had posted.
Lost my orange cat, Marmalade.
Reward. Schraalenburgh
17 Willow Street.
Cricket felt someone behind her. She turned to look. Standing there, reading the notice over Cricket’s shoulder, was Zoe.
“Hi,” said Zoe when Cricket faced her.
“What are you doing here?” asked Cricket indignantly. It hadn’t occurred to Cricket that Zoe would have the same idea that she had. Hadn’t she said that she would tell her stepfather to write about it in the newspaper? Wasn’t that enough for her to do?
“I’m looking for Marmalade,” said Zoe smiling. “Just like you.”
“I thought your stepfather was going to write about it in the newspaper,” said Cricket.
“I’m going to tell him about it when he comes home tonight. But in the meantime, it’s pretty cold. It must be awful for a cat to be lost outside in this kind of weather. It would be much better if we could find him today instead of waiting for people to start looking for h
im tomorrow.”
Cricket was surprised by Zoe’s words. Her classmate seemed to be really worried about the cat freezing to death. She hadn’t come just to get the credit for finding the cat.
“Maybe we can find him together,” suggested Zoe again. “Please, can I look with you? I’m afraid I’m going to get lost. I still don’t know my way around here very well. I brought the street map that comes with the telephone book. But I’m not too good at mapping skills. We didn’t study that at my old school.”
“If you get lost, your mother will have to put a sign up on the other side of these street-lights,” said Cricket, giggling.
Zoe giggled, too. “It seems silly when I’m with you. But I was really getting scared,” she admitted.
Suddenly, Cricket was no longer annoyed by Zoe’s presence. Zoe had been scared walking these streets by herself. But with Cricket beside her, she wasn’t frightened anymore. And Cricket, who hadn’t felt at all scared walking in this neighborhood, felt that it would be much more fun to have a companion during the search.
“I’ve been looking underneath cars and behind trees, but I haven’t seen any cats,” she told Zoe.
“Did you walk down this street yet?” asked Zoe.
“No,” said Cricket. “Let’s go now.”
Together the two girls crossed the street and went to the next block. They saw a black-and-white cat when they crossed the street. The cat was walking slowly, as if deep in thought. “Too bad we can’t ask the cat about Marmalade,” said Cricket. “I bet he’d know where to look.”
“When we get to junior high, we’ll get to take another language,” said Zoe. “But they never teach us Cat or Dog. That would be more useful.”
Cricket laughed. “Even if we don’t find Marmalade, this is fun,” she said. She was surprised to find that she was having a wonderful time.
“Would you come home from school with me tomorrow?” Zoe asked. “I’ll ask my mother to take us to the ice-skating rink. That is, if you’d like to go. Otherwise, we could do something different.”
“I have my piano lessons on Tuesday afternoons,” Cricket explained. It had been a long time since she had played after school with a friend. She felt a little shy. “Besides, I’m not very good at ice skating. I can’t do any tricks or anything.”
“I learned how to skate backwards last year,” said Zoe. “I could teach you. It isn’t hard.”
“Only the ice is hard when you fall,” said Cricket.
Zoe laughed. “You say funny things,” she said. “It’s fun to be with you. And don’t forget, we said we would go to the public library together, too. There are lots of things we could do together.”
The new feeling of warmth that had been kindling inside Cricket was growing bigger by the minute. Zoe really seemed to want to be her friend.
Suddenly, Cricket noticed something underneath a large hedge. Three cats were sitting together. “Look,” she said, grabbing Zoe by the arm. “Do you see them?”
“It looks like they are having a meeting or something,” Zoe whispered to Cricket.
One of the cats seemed to be the black-and-white one they had seen before. The second cat was gray and orange and black and white. “That’s a calico cat.” Again Zoe whispered to Cricket.
The third cat was orange.
“That’s Marmalade,” Cricket whispered excitedly to Zoe. She didn’t know why they were whispering. It just seemed right at this crucial moment.
“I’ll stay here and you go around the other side,” Cricket instructed Zoe. “That way, we’ll have Marmalade surrounded.”
Cricket was glad that Zoe did as she had asked, without questioning or arguing. Cricket quietly walked toward the cats. She knew that if she moved quickly the cats would be scared, so Cricket took very small steps and paused after each one. The cats did not seem to be paying any attention to her or to Zoe. That was good. Then Zoe stepped on a twig and it broke with a snap. All three cats tensed at once. The calico cat darted out from the hedge in one direction and the black-and-white one went in another direction. Cricket pounced down on the orange cat and discovered that she had actually succeeded in catching it.
“We’ve got it!” Zoe shouted. It wasn’t fair of her to say “we” when it was Cricket who had caught the cat and Cricket who was struggling to keep it now. But that didn’t seem important now at all. The important thing was that orange cat was no longer lost. Cricket was glad that she was wearing her heavy jacket and her mittens because Marmalade was fighting to get free. If all this had happened in warm weather, she would have been scratched to pieces.
“Let’s hurry to Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s house,” she panted. She didn’t know if she would be able to make it because the orange cat was struggling so hard to get away. But now that they had found Marmalade, Cricket had no intention of letting him get away. They crossed the street and half-walked, half-ran toward Willow Street.
“Is he heavy?” asked Zoe.
“It’s not that he’s heavy,” said Cricket, panting for breath, “but he won’t hold still.”
“We’re almost there,” Zoe encouraged her. “This is number eleven.”
They ran down the street, checking the house numbers as they went. The cat began to yowl in protest.
“We’re taking you home,” Zoe explained. But Marmalade didn’t seem to care.
Finally, they reached the door of number seventeen. Zoe pushed the bell. The cat was trying harder than ever to escape Cricket’s hold. Cricket wondered if she would have anything left in her arms by the time Mrs. Schraalenburgh came to the door.
When the door opened, Cricket pushed herself inside without saying a word. It was not a moment too soon. The orange cat freed itself from her hold and leaped away. Luckily, he ran farther into Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s house instead of out the door.
“We did it,” Zoe said triumphantly. “We found Marmalade for you.”
Cricket was exhausted. She stood looking around her and trying to catch her breath. She had never been inside a teacher’s home before.
“Now my stepfather won’t have to write about it in the newspaper, after all,” said Zoe.
“That’s right,” agreed Mrs. Schraalenburgh. “I found my Marmalade. He was waiting beside the door when I came home from school today. But whose cat did you bring me?”
“Didn’t we bring you Marmalade?” asked Cricket incredulously.
“No. That’s what I’m telling you,” said the teacher. “Marmalade came home by himself from wherever he spent the weekend.”
Zoe went to look under the sofa where the orange cat that was not Marmalade was hiding. “I think he’s too frightened to come out,” she said. “We found him on the next block. We were sure he was yours.”
Mrs. Schraalenburgh picked up a large orange cat that had just entered the room. “This is my pet,” she said. “This is Marmalade.”
The real Marmalade was bigger and cleaner and fluffier than the cat that Cricket and Zoe had delivered to the teacher’s house. But he wasn’t more orange. Cricket and Zoe looked at each other. It was hard to believe they had spent the afternoon looking for a lost cat that wasn’t lost. Both girls started laughing at the silliness of the situation at the same moment.
“Perhaps if I offer it some food, this other cat will decide to come out from under the sofa,” said Mrs. Schraalenburgh. She went into the kitchen. Cricket and Zoe stood where they were. Cricket wondered who this other orange cat belonged to. Maybe right now, someone else was putting a sign up on the other side of the streetlight offering a reward for this lost pet.
The cat did not come out right away. It took several minutes for the smell of the cat food to lure him. However, once he did come out he began to gobble up the contents of the dish very quickly.
“The poor thing is starving,” said Mrs. Schraalenburgh. “He doesn’t have a collar. I’ll bet he’s a stray.”
“What will you do with him?” asked Cricket.
“Poor thing,” said Mrs. Schraalenburgh. “He eats
as if he hasn’t had a meal for weeks.” She turned to Marmalade who was sitting on the floor watching the strange cat. “Sweetheart,” she said, “don’t you think we should adopt this poor fellow? That is, if he really is a stray. But I’m sure he is. Look. He ate the entire dish of food already.”
“You mean you’re really going to keep it?” asked Zoe.
Mrs. Schraalenburgh smiled and nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll post a sign that I found him. If he isn’t claimed, he can stay here. Orangeade would be the perfect name for him. Don’t you think so?”
Both girls agreed. Mrs. Schraalenburgh took them into her kitchen. She made them wash their hands after handling the stray cat. “Tomorrow, after school, I’ll take him to the vet. He probably has never had any shots or anything.”
After the girls had washed their hands, Mrs. Schraalenburgh made them each a cup of cocoa and served graham crackers with it.
“You really should give us orangeade to drink,” said Cricket.
Zoe giggled.
“You need something warm after traipsing about on such a cold day. You are both dears to have concerned yourselves so much about my cat,” Mrs. Schraalenburgh said.
“I guess Marmalade means a lot to you,” said Zoe.
“If you’ve never had a pet, it will seem strange,” said the teacher. “But I love Marmalade. And you know, I already feel a bond of affection for poor Orangeade. He looks as if he has led a hard life.”
“I don’t have a pet, but I have a baby sister,” said Cricket. “That’s the way I feel about her, too.”
Just as the girls finished their cocoa, Mrs. Schraalenburgh’s husband returned home from work. He offered to drive the girls home, as it had gotten both late and dark outside.
“Tell me,” he asked them as they climbed into the car. “What sort of a teacher is my wife? Is she a good teacher?”
“She’s a very good teacher,” said Zoe. “She’s very fair. In my old school, the teacher always had a pet. Last year it was a girl called Jeanine. Everyone hated her because the teacher favored her all the time. She was so perfect. Even when she wasn’t perfect, the teacher acted like she was. Jeanine may have been the teacher’s pet, but she didn’t have a single friend. Mrs. Schraalenburgh isn’t like that. She doesn’t have a special pet.”
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