Domino (4 page)

“It’ll get soggy,” Mia said over breakfast the next morning. “You don’t like soggy cereal. Not even Blueberry Clusters. And Mom’s going to make you put on long sleeves.”

Michael stared at his bowl. Did Mia really have to act all big sister-y now? He had other things to think about, his oral report, for one thing. His note cards were in the outside pocket of his backpack, and his model rocket was packed in a tall grocery bag with crumpled newspaper as padding. He was ready. Except … something was still missing. His lucky socks. He tried to tell himself that the socks didn’t mean a thing. He didn’t need them. John Glenn, the pilot of
Friendship 7,
hadn’t needed a lucky charm when he took his legendary
flight. He had zoomed around Earth three times, high above the planet. All Michael had to do was stand in front of his class and give a report.

Michael swirled his spoon in the bowl. Any minute Mom would come in and tell him to eat. She’d say he needed his energy, that day of all days.

But he wasn’t hungry. He felt like something was missing — something more than just a pair of socks. He wondered if this was how Domino’s family felt. What was it like in their house without him there? They had to miss him. Didn’t they? The black-and-white kitten had a way of making everyone smile. He’d scamper and skid across the floor and then look around with a funny, confused expression. He meowed whenever he came in the room, just to say hello. Sometimes, when he was excited, Domino meowed a lot.

Like now. Michael looked around. “Do you hear that?” he asked Mia. Domino’s meows were loud and plaintive.

“Yeah. Where is he?” Mia sat up straight and looked around the room.

Michael and Mia scooted back their chairs and followed the sound. Domino kept meowing. Was something wrong?

“I think he’s in your room,” Mia said as she headed down the hall. Michael was right behind her.

Was Domino scared? Was he stuck?

Mia ran into the room and spun around. “Where could he be?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said. He got down on his hands and knees. He looked under the bed. Nothing. Nothing under his desk, either. Then he saw a white-tipped black tail poking out from under his dresser. The tail swished.

“I see him!” Michael yelled. “He’s hiding behind a stack of library books.”

“Why are there library books under your dresser?” Mia asked. “I bet they’re overdue. We’re going to get fined.”

Michael ignored Mia as he crawled forward. “Come on out, Domino,” he said. “We’re right here.” He scooted the books out of the way. Now he could see the kitten crouched under the bottom of the dresser. “Come on, buddy.”

Domino let out a long meow. His tail whipped back and forth. He patted a paw toward Michael.

“Domino, we don’t have time for this,” Michael said. “We have to go to school.”

“Something’s wrong. He sounds upset.” Mia paced behind Michael. “Get him out!”

Michael wasn’t so sure Domino was upset. He was starting to get the feeling that the kitten
might just want to play. But either way, he had to get him out of there. He reached under the dresser, got hold of Domino’s back end, and pulled gently. The kitten’s thrashing tail came out first. Next came his back paws, folded under his belly. Then his head. When Domino’s front paws finally appeared, his claws were clinging to something long, white, and dusty.

“What is that? And why is it under your dresser?” Mia asked.

Michael felt a rush of excitement when he saw a stripe of green. “Domino!” he yelled. He grabbed the kitten under his front legs and swooped him high in the air. “You are the best kitten ever!”

“What’s going on?” Mom asked from the doorway.

“Domino found my lucky socks!” Michael exclaimed. “Just in time for my report. They were under my dresser the whole time. I must have thrown them on the floor after my last game.” Michael ruffled the fur on Domino’s head, and the kitten’s rhythmic purr grew louder. Michael kissed him between the ears and then pushed the kitten against Mia’s chest. As soon as she had Domino safe in her arms, Michael bent over, grabbed the lucky socks, and sat down on the edge of his bed to put them on. He propped an ankle up on his knee.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Mom said. “I’m not letting you wear those filthy socks. You can take them with you if you really want to, but you cannot put them on.”

Mom’s eyes were serious, but she was smiling. She held out her hand, and reluctantly, Michael gave up the socks.

She wrinkled her nose. “P.U.! I’ll put them in a plastic bag for you,” she said. “I don’t want your
whole backpack smelling like sweaty basketball socks.”

Michael wasn’t going to argue. He didn’t have to wear them. He just needed to know they weren’t lost. And he wanted them nearby when he did his report.

“Dad’s on the phone, but then he’ll be ready to go,” Mom said as she left the room. “It’s still cold out, Michael,” she called down the hall. “You need long sleeves.”

Mia raised her eyebrows — “See?” — and walked out with both hands on her hips. Michael pulled on his favorite hoodie, grabbed his backpack and the bag with his rocket, and followed his sister.

Dad appeared in the hallway as they were putting on their snow boots.

“Guess who that was on the phone?” He put a hand on each of their shoulders.

Michael looked at Mia. Mia looked at Michael. They both knew before Dad even said it.

Somebody had called about Domino.

Michael pressed his lips together. From the look on Dad’s face, he knew he was right. “Was it someone from Domino’s family? Someone who saw the poster?”

Dad nodded. “Mrs. Freeman, that’s her name. She said she and her husband and their kids have been out of town. They got home late last night, and right away they realized that Domino was gone. The dad went out looking for him and saw one of our posters.”

Michael looked at Mia. Her eyes glistened. She looked down and pulled the laces on her boot extra tight. “How do we know it’s true?” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Dad asked.

“How do we know they’re really Domino’s family? Maybe they just saw the sign and thought he was a cute kitten, and now they want him.”

Dad raised his eyebrows. “Well …” Michael could tell Dad didn’t know how to answer Mia.

“It’s great news, Dad,” Michael said. He reached out to touch Mia’s arm. “He probably does belong to them,” he told her gently. Mia pulled away from him and marched toward the door.

Dad shrugged and smiled at Michael as if they both understood that Mia needed a little time to get used to the idea that someone was claiming Domino.

The thing was, Michael needed a little time, too.

“Hey, why all the chatter?” Mom said as she appeared behind Dad. “You need to be heading out the door.”

“Dad just talked to a lady who says she’s Domino’s family,” Michael said. “That’s who was on the phone.”

“Oh,” Mom said. “Ohhhh.” She slowly took in the news as she handed Michael the plastic bag with his socks. “I’ll hear the rest from Dad later. Good luck today,” she said, giving him a hug.

“Thanks.” Michael shoved the bag into his backpack.

Mom put her hands on Mia’s cheeks and kissed her on the head. “It’ll be okay,” she said. Mia nodded, but Michael could tell she didn’t believe it would.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Dad turned to Michael. “You really did a great job with those posters,” he said. “You should feel proud of yourself.”

Michael smiled. He felt something. He felt lots of things. But he wasn’t sure pride was one of them.

“Anyway, the Freemans are coming over after school. They wanted to come right over earlier, but I knew you would both want to meet them.
And I know you’ll want a little more time with Domino before they come.”

Michael wondered what the Freeman family would be like, and how it would be when they first saw Domino. Was he really theirs? And even if he was, did they definitely want him back? Maybe there was still a chance that the little black-and-white kitten could stay with the Battellis forever.

Michael collapsed on the couch after school. Was it the lucky socks, in their plastic bag? The fact that he was too busy thinking about Domino to be nervous? Or was it just that, for once, he had prepared really well? Whatever it was, Michael’s report had gone perfectly.

He hadn’t forgotten any of his key points, and he’d even made his classmates laugh — twice. But now, he still had a nervous feeling in his gut. Soon the Freemans were going to come and probably take Domino away. Were they really his
people? Were they the right family for him? How would Michael know for sure?

“What do you think they’ll be like?” Mia asked. Domino was curled up in her lap. It seemed almost like she was talking to the kitten, not Michael, who was sitting across from her.

“I don’t know,” said Michael. “I just hope they’re nice.”

Mia scratched Domino’s belly, and the kitten rolled onto his back with his paws in the air. “You like that, don’t you?” she asked the kitten. She looked up at her brother. “Well, I still don’t understand how he got out. Wasn’t someone taking care of him? I don’t think they were very responsible pet owners.”

“Mia, I don’t want to hear you talk that way.” Dad stepped into the room from the office nook, and Mia blushed. “Since you’re wondering, I’ll tell you what Mrs. Freeman told me. A neighbor was taking care of Domino, but often when they’re away, Domino hides most of the time. You know
how that little kitten likes to hide. The neighbor would leave food and water, but he never saw Domino. So he didn’t know the difference when Domino escaped.”

“Whatever,” said Mia with an eye roll.

Dad frowned. “Mia, the Freemans will be here any minute, and I want you to be nice.”

“We found their cat for them. That seems pretty nice to me,” Michael said.

“Not you, too.” Dad shook his head. “Remember, fostering is not only about taking care of cats and kittens. It’s about doing the right thing for each one. How would you feel if you lost your kitten?”

Michael could guess what Mia might be thinking, but she kept her mouth shut.

The back door swished open, and a moment later Mom appeared, stripping off her gloves. “Are they here yet?” she asked.

Dad checked his watch. “Any minute,” he said.

Mia lifted Domino up and handed him to Michael. “It’s your turn,” she said.

Michael put the kitten on his shoulder. Domino sniffed at Michael’s ear. It tickled. “Hey, Domino, cut it out,” Michael said with a laugh. The doorbell rang, and Michael’s heart sank. They were here already?

The others went to the door, but Michael stayed put with Domino. As he petted the kitten, he could hear the chorus of hellos and nice-to-meet-yous. Domino’s ears twitched. Coats swished and shoes clomped off, and then a curly-haired boy and a girl appeared in the doorway with Mia. Michael thought they looked just about the same age as him and Mia. They both wore hopeful smiles as they glanced around the room. “Hi, I’m Michael,” he said. “And this is —” But he didn’t need to introduce the kitten.

“Jigsaw!” said the girl as soon as she spotted Domino. She knelt down. “Here, Jigsaw,” she said. Her brother joined her, sitting on the floor.

Domino sprang out of Michael’s arms and scampered over to meet them. Michael swallowed hard
as he watched the girl pull Domino into her lap. He could hear the kitten’s raspy purr from across the room. There was no denying it. It was obvious. Mia had to see it, too. This was definitely Domino’s real family. Only, his name was not Domino. “Jigsaw?” Michael asked.

The girl nodded. “Andy named him Jigsaw because it looks like you could take his black and white pieces apart and put him back together again.” She pointed to her brother. “That’s Andy. I’m Jill.”

Andy grinned and waved a finger at Michael. Then he pulled Jigsaw into his lap. “It’s so good to see you, bud,” he said as he stroked the black-and-white kitten. Jill reached in and gave Jigsaw a good scratch, under his chin, behind his ears, along his belly.

“We called him Domino,” Mia said softly. “It’s kind of funny that dominoes and jigsaw puzzles are both things you can play with.”

Michael smiled at his sister and reached out to
give her shoulder a squeeze. She was doing what Dad had asked — being nice.

“Thanks for taking such good care of him,” Jill said, looking first at Michael, then at Mia.

Michael nodded.

“I can’t believe you found him in the park. What were you thinking, Jigsaw?” Andy said. Now Jill was holding Jigsaw. Andy scratched him under the chin with both hands. The kitten lifted his head and looked up at Andy with happy, squinty eyes. “You’re super lucky Michael was there to rescue you, buddy. We are, too.” Jigsaw closed his eyes and relaxed into Jill’s arms, purring even more loudly.

Michael watched the kitten play with Jill and Andy. It was obvious that they loved him a lot, and Domino — no,
Jigsaw
! — loved them, too.
But what about the parents? Maybe they didn’t care about Jigsaw so much. Maybe … maybe they wanted to find a new home for him.

Then, almost as if they knew he was thinking about them, Mr. and Mrs. Freeman came into the room, followed by Mom and Dad. Mr. Freeman smiled when he saw his kids playing with Jigsaw. “Are you the one who made the posters?” he asked Michael. He stuck out his hand for a shake. “I was so relieved to see that sign that I almost cried. I wanted to call right away, but Sasha said I had to wait until you’d be up.” He pointed to his wife.

“It was almost midnight,” Mrs. Freeman said. “I knew just how he felt. I couldn’t wait to see Jigsaw again, either. But you can’t go calling people at midnight.” She squeezed her husband’s hand and smiled at him. They both beamed down at Jigsaw.

Well,
thought Michael.
That answers that.
The whole family loved Jigsaw. Michael felt sad inside,
but he made himself smile back at the Freemans. He wished he had never let himself think that he might be able to keep the kitten. The good news was that Jigsaw couldn’t ask for a more loving home. And one thing was certain: Michael bet they’d make sure he never got out again!

By the time the Freemans were ready to go, Mia and Jill had made a playdate, Michael and Andy had agreed to meet for some one-on-one basketball at the rec center, and Jigsaw had been petted by so many adoring hands that his purr rumbled through the room.

Michael hated to see the kitten leave, but he knew Jigsaw would be happy and safe. That was what mattered, wasn’t it? As the Battellis followed the Freemans onto the stoop, Jigsaw peered out from the mesh window of his pet carrier and meowed. Michael was sure he was saying goodbye. “Bye, Jigsaw,” he called.

As Michael watched Andy, Jill, and their parents walk down the steps, fluffy snowflakes began
to fall. Maybe the next day would be another good sledding day. Michael felt Mia’s fingers wrap around his. “You know we did the right thing, don’t you?” she said. This time, her big-sister act didn’t bother him at all.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled down at her and squeezed her hand. “And you know we’ll foster another kitten soon?”

“Yeah, I know,” Mia said. “And even get one of our own someday.”

Michael nodded. He was sure of it.