Catboy by Eric Walters Page A

considerate, still appreciated and still worth thanking you for,” she said.
    I followed her into the kitchen and pulled the KFC box out of one of the bags. There was another box underneath. I pulled it out as well.
    I thought about what she’d said to the guys about only having enough chicken for the two of us.
    â€œHow much chicken did you get?” I asked.
    â€œI bought enough for the two of us, and I got some more for your friends.”
    â€œFor my friends? But you said you didn’t have enough for them, and they couldn’t have dinner with us.”
    â€œNot those friends.”
    She opened up the bigger of the two boxes. It had bones and French fries and some buns. “For your cat friends.”
    â€œThanks so much!”
    â€œThat stuff was in their garbage. The guy behind the counter at KFC thought I was either a little crazy in the head or trying to get some free food.”
    â€œThe cats are going to love it.”
    â€œI know those cats are important to you. You’ve spent a lot of time talking about them over the past couple of months,” she said.
    â€œI guess I do talk about them a lot,” I said.
    â€œI also know you still miss Blinky. I miss him too. Maybe someday we can get you another cat.”
    â€œI already have about forty cats.” I paused. “But thanks, really. Someday that would be nice.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œI’m sure,” I said. “Besides, isn’t this building a ‘no pets allowed’ place?”
    â€œI’m sure there are a few cats in here, but you’re probably right. It would be better if we didn’t have a pet, at least for now.”

Ten
    â€œOkay, we only have a few minutes before the bell goes,” Mr. Spence said, “so there’s just enough time for a review.”
    We’d spent a big chunk of the afternoon studying the United Nations.
    â€œWho can tell me when the UN was founded?”
    Two dozen hands went up, including mine. He nodded to Mohammad.
    â€œNineteen forty-five,” Mohammad said.
    â€œCorrect. And now, which city, so nice it was named twice, is the home to the United Nations?”
    Every hand went up again.
    â€œRupinder?”
    â€œNew York, New York, in the United States,” Rupinder answered.
    â€œCorrect again. It’s a great city. How many people have been to New York?”
    This time only two hands were raised. I thought it would be incredibly cool to go to New York. I could hardly imagine a place bigger and busier than Toronto, but I knew New York was way bigger.
    â€œWhen you get older, you should all try to see that city. Remember, travel is a great education,” Mr. Spence said. “How many member states are there in the UN?”
    Almost every hand went up.
    â€œSimon?”
    â€œOne hundred and ninety-two countries have official status,” Simon said.
    â€œAnother correct answer, although some people have difficulty believing there are that many countries in the world. But I invite them to visit Toronto, where you can find people from every one of those countries living here.”
    â€œAnd maybe all in the same class,” Simon said, and everybody laughed.
    â€œThat would be one incredibly big class,” Mr. Spence added. “But one I’d love to teach. Now back to the review. How many of those one hundred and ninety-two countries make up the Security Council?”
    Several hands shot up. I knew the Security Council was made up of the biggest or most powerful countries. The permanent members had the power to “veto” any vote, which meant if all the other countries wanted something and one of those countries didn’t, then it didn’t happen.
    â€œAlexander, can you answer that, please,” Mr. Spence said.
    I turned around. Alexander had his head buried in a book, no surprise. He read more than anybody I’d ever met.
    â€œThere are five permanent members of the