Claws! (7 page)

Should I talk to them? Or run?

I wanted this to be over. I wanted to tell someone the whole story.

But the angry looks on their faces told me they wouldn’t want to listen. They wanted to punish me for stealing.

So I ran.

I darted into the street. Tires squealed. A car swerved to avoid me. The driver sent out a long, angry horn blast.

I froze in panic in the middle of the street. I glanced around. No way to escape them if I ran down the block. They were too close and coming on fast.

“Hey, stop! Wait right there, kid!”

They were shouting and waving, their feet pounding the pavement. Then they leaped off the curb, onto the street.

My breath came out in short wheezes. My
heart fluttered in my chest. I was so frightened, I bit my tongue.

“Owww.”
The sharp pain moved me into action.

I spun around. And dodged between two parked SUVs. I sprinted between a bunch of kids on bikes. And raced toward the school building.

I’ll be safe there
, I told myself.
Safer than on the street.

They won’t follow me into the school.

And there are plenty of places to hide in there.

“Stop!” Lou shouted behind me. “You’re in big trouble! Stop right now!”

“Somebody grab that kid!”

I heard people screaming. I saw some startled parents who had come to pick up their kids. They backed away as I ran past.

The shouts and cries faded as I grabbed the entrance doors to the school building, hurtled inside, and shut them behind me.

Where to hide?

I tore down the empty hall, past rows of gray lockers and dark classrooms.

Over my wheezing breath I could hear the cheerleaders practicing downstairs in the gym. And I heard music—a march. The band rehearsing in the music room.

I’m safe here. They won’t follow me into the school.

I gasped as I heard shouts behind me. Heavy, pounding footsteps.

I nearly fell over as I swung to look behind me. Lou and his two pals. They were stampeding down the hall.

“Freeze!”

“Stop right there! Don’t run away!”

“Stop, kid!”

Their voices echoed off the gray tile walls.

Why were they so desperate to catch me? I stole a cat. But so what? Do they send
three guys
out to capture everyone who takes a cat without paying?

“You’re in trouble, kid!”

“Stop! Just stop!”

I knew I was in trouble. They didn’t have to tell me that.

I spun around a corner. Running off balance, I slid on the linoleum floor. I skidded to a stop when I saw someone had left a locker open.

I didn’t even think about it. I darted into the locker.

I squeezed into the narrow metal locker, spun around to face the front—and shut the door.

I didn’t mean to slam it so hard. It made a loud
clannng.

Did they hear it? Could they hear my gasping breaths?

I shut my eyes and listened. Their shoes thudded on the hard floor. Their angry shouts boomed like bellowing animals.

I heard them turn the corner. They kept running.

“Where is he?” I heard Lou shout.

“Keep going,” one of his pals replied. “I saw him run this way.”

I had my eyes shut, fingers crossed. I gritted my teeth. And listened to them run right past the locker.

I let out a long whoosh of air. My heart wouldn’t stop pumping and thumping. So loud I could barely hear their fading footsteps.

My face was drenched in sweat. I suddenly realized it was hot inside this locker. My legs ached. I tried to shift my weight. I was standing on someone’s books and papers.

A metal hook dug into my back. I leaned forward, but there wasn’t room to get away from the hook.

I pressed my ear against the locker door. I listened for the three men to return. To come running back down the hall.

Would they search the lockers to find me? Were they
that
desperate?

Silence now.

I waited. Waited.

So cramped and hot and uncomfortable in the narrow space. My back started to itch. Sweat trickled into my eyes.

Time to get out of here
, I decided.
They’re not coming back.

I fumbled for the door latch.

I grabbed it and pulled up. It didn’t budge.

I tried to jiggle it. No. It wouldn’t move.

Maybe I had the wrong piece of the latch. I squinted down at the door. Too dark to see anything.

I brushed my hand over the metal gears down there. Tried to pull the latch up. Tried to push it down.

My hand found some kind of round gear. I gripped it tightly and tried to spin it. One way. Then the other.

No. It didn’t spin.

I edged my shoulder against the door. Tried to move the latch and push the door out with my shoulder.

No.

I brushed sweat from my eyes. My legs were trembling.

I listened. No one in the hall.

I couldn’t call out for help. Lou and his two partners might hear me.

I couldn’t shout. And I couldn’t budge the latch.

I was trapped inside this thing. Trapped with the hook poking into my back. And my legs trembling. And sweat rolling down my face.

Trapped in this locker the size of a coffin.

My back ached. The sides of the locker squeezed my shoulders.

I tried to squirm into a more comfortable position. But there was no room to move.

My hand wrapped around the latch once again. I tried pulling it. Pushing it. Twirling it.

I heard footsteps. I sucked in a lungful of air and held it. And listened.

Light footsteps scraping the floor.

I peeked out through the narrow air slots in the door. I saw a flash of blond hair across the hall. I squinted till I saw the kid’s face.

Greg Baum. A fourth-grader I knew from Sunday school.

“Hey, Greg —” I whispered through the air vent.

He kept walking.

“Greg—stop!” I called a little louder.

I could see him spin around. His eyes bulged in surprise. “Who’s there?”

“Greg—it’s me. Mickey Coe. I’m inside a locker.”

“Huh? Why?” he asked.

“Because I got stuck,” I said. “I’m locked in. Can you let me out?”

I kept talking until Greg found the locker. Then he opened the door without any trouble.

I came tumbling out. I stumbled all the way to the wall across from us. I hit the wall and bounced off.

Greg studied me. “Why did you shut yourself in that locker?”

“It was kind of a dare thing,” I lied.

He started to ask more questions. But I took off. No sign of the three cat store dudes. So I ran straight to the front of the school, shoved open the doors, and burst outside.

I glanced up and down the street. No. I didn’t see them.

The rain had stopped, and the afternoon sun was sinking behind the trees. I tried to stay in the long shadows as I ran.

All the way home, I kept turning and checking behind me. I kept expecting them to jump out from behind a tree or the side of a house.

It was only three blocks. But it was a terrifying run. I darted through backyards and along a narrow alley filled with trash cans.

Were they still searching the school?

I could see they wouldn’t give up. They were going to chase after me till they caught me.

And then …
what
? Turn me over to the police?

I had to talk to Amanda. We had to make a plan.

Thinking about Amanda made me remember the cat. I couldn’t run straight home. I had to stop and feed Bella first.

By the time I reached the Caplans’ house, I was exhausted, dripping with sweat, and still terrified. I found the keys in my backpack and unlocked the front door. I reached for the doorknob —and stopped.

A chill of fear ran down my back.

I pictured the cat leaping onto me, claws outstretched. Hissing. Screeching. Scratching and biting.

Was she waiting for me? Ready to pounce?

I swallowed. My hand trembled as I grabbed the knob again.

I knew I had no choice. I had to go in the house. I had to feed her and clean her litter box.

Maybe Bella had calmed down. Maybe she was used to her new home. Maybe she would be a nice, gentle cat from now on.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open just a few inches. I stuck my head inside and peered into the front hallway. “Bella?”

She was sitting there, a few feet from the front door. She sat up straighter when she saw me. Her eyes appeared to light up.

“Bella?” I stepped into the hall and carefully closed the door behind me. “Are you going to be a good cat?” I said softly.

She answered with a deafening screech. Raised her front claws—and leaped at me, snapping her jaws.

“Noooo!”

This time, I wasn’t surprised. I was ready for her.

As she jumped, I shot out both hands. I caught her around the middle before she could land on me.

She screeched and squirmed and clawed. But I gripped her tightly and held her in the air.

I struggled to hold on. But I saw something that made the breath catch in my throat. I started to choke.

The cat fell from my hands.

I staggered back, staring … staring at something
impossible.

“Noooo!” The cry burst from deep inside me. “No! It can’t be. I—I don’t
believe
it!”

I stared in shock at the cat’s tail. At the chunk of missing fur on her tail.

I pictured Amanda’s bubble gum stuck to the
first
Bella’s tail. Amanda had to cut the gum off with a pair of scissors.

The first Bella had a circle of fur missing.

But that Bella was dead.

So how did this cat have the
same chunk of fur
missing in the exact same place on her tail?

As I stared at the pink circle of skin, I felt a cold shudder run down my back.

“It—it’s impossible,” I murmured to myself. “No way …”

The cat raised her head and gazed up at me with glowing yellow eyes.

It can’t be the same cat
, I thought, staring back at it.
But she looks just like the first Bella. And the same spot of fur is missing ….YIKES!

This was too frightening for me. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.

Bella followed me as I began to search the house. I pulled open closet doors. I searched under beds and behind couches.

Finally, I found what I was looking for. A cat carrier, folded up at the back of a linen closet.

I pulled it out and unfolded it. I opened the canvas door on the side and set the carrier down on the floor.

“Go ahead, Bella,” I said, pointing. “Get inside. Go.”

To my surprise, she stepped right into the carrier. I reached down quickly and fastened the door behind her. I could see her eyes glowing in there like two fireflies.

I carried the case to the front door. Then I set it down. I didn’t really want to do this alone.

I pulled out my phone and tried Amanda’s number. It rang and rang. Finally, I got her voice mail.

“Never mind,” I said. And I hung up.

Okay. I
was
going to do this by myself. I didn’t want to wait. I knew it had to be done.

I carried the case to the bus stop. Bella had grown very still inside it.

I peered in through the screen. She was curled up in a tight ball, her tail wrapped around her legs.

“Good,” I murmured. I felt relieved that she wasn’t giving me a hard time. No screeching or hissing or clawing at the sides of the carrier.

Taking her back to Cat Heaven was hard enough.

I knew that Lou and the other store clerks were really angry. I expected them to give me a hard time.

I was ready to face them. I had broken the law. I stole the cat. I deserved to be in trouble.

I just hoped they wouldn’t call the police.

The bus ride took forever. I sat in the backseat with the cat carrier on my lap. Bella didn’t raise her head. The carrier seemed to grow heavier and heavier.

The bus driver got into a yelling fight with the driver of a red SUV. He stopped the bus and jumped out to scream at her.

I just wanted to get this afternoon over with. Horns honked. People shouted. Finally, the driver climbed back into his seat, and the bus started up again.

By the time I reached Cat Heaven, the sun had almost set. My heart started to pound as I crossed the parking lot.

A man in denim work overalls came out of the store dragging an enormous red bag of kitty litter. He heaved it onto the back of his pickup truck.

He turned to me. “What’ve you got in there, son? A cat?”

I raised the carrier. “Yeah. I’m returning it,” I said.

He climbed into the front of his truck. I was glad he didn’t want to see the cat or ask me any more questions.

I stepped up to the entrance. A sign by the door read: 2
FOR
1
SALE
. Did that mean two cats for the price of one?

The glass doors slid open. I took a deep breath and stepped into the store.

The lemony smell of air freshener and cat litter greeted me.

I heard a cat yowl. Then a few more cats joined in.

Standing at the entrance, it took me a little while to realize what was happening.

Then I gasped as the cats started to go
nuts.

The whole store came alive at once. Hundreds and hundreds of cats began to scream and yowl and cry. The sound rose up in front of me, a wall of wails and angry screeches.

I stared at the cages in the first row. Screaming cats threw themselves at their cage bars. They clawed the sides and tops of their cages. They climbed the cage walls. They flung themselves at the doors, trying to break out.

I staggered back against the wall.

I had to set the cat carrier down and cover my ears against the deafening wails and cries.

Did I cause this?
I asked myself.

Is this cat riot my fault?

I didn’t have time to think about it.

Lou and the two gray-uniformed store clerks came running down the aisle. Their faces were red. They were pointing at me angrily.

Cats yowled and howled and flung themselves at their cages, wild-eyed, drooling.

I froze in fear and total confusion.

Lou grabbed me by the shoulder. “I’ve got you!” he screamed over the racket.

He shoved the cat carrier into my hands—and dragged me out the front door.