Highway Cats by Janet Taylor Lisle Page B

to go.) A quick bite and they padded back to set up watch again, drawn by the kits’ mysterious sparkle.
    It was in the evening that this enchanting phenomenon was most visible. The velvety darkness of the little forest drew close around their glowing mound, magnifying it to a jewel-like brilliance. By this light, pine needles seemed to give off a new and intoxicating fragrance, the wind became musical, the air turned silvery with spring dew and a delicious peace descended. If this wasn’t magic, nothing was, and every cat there knew it. They had not properly appreciated the little wood before, they saw.
    They did now.
    Though most among them had never known the comfort of a family, they felt something like it as they bedded down together around the kittens in the graveyard and dropped off to sleep one by one.
    Curled on his side near the kits, gazing at a far-off sparkle of stars, Shredder also was swept by a deep contentment. For the first time in many years, he felt a sense of belonging that came close to how he’d felt in his lost home. The evening air seemed as soft here as it had been there. The sky was as wide and mysterious. Spring was coming, as it always would, dependable as the sun that rose every morning. How he loved this old earth for its ancient and beautiful ways.
    These happy thoughts were followed by such a pang of sadness, however, that the old cat laid his head abruptly on his paws.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    Khalia Koo sat nearby, ever alert to his moods.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œI thought you might feel ill.” She came over to him. Through the murk of night, her profile was barely visible, and that was just as well. She had given up wearing her containers. What was the use of hiding her face when the others had seen it anyway? She was ugly. So be it. Somehow she must learn to live with her disgrace.
    â€œI was just realizing,” Shredder replied, “how all this will be gone soon: the trees, the smells, the wind, the darkness. I’m glad I won’t be around to miss them.”
    â€œWon’t be around?”
    â€œTime is passing. I’ve grown old.”
    â€œDon’t be silly,” Khalia snapped. “You mustn’t talk that way. There’s too much to do and…you’re more important than you think. To the kits, for instance, and all the cats here. And also…” She paused. “You’re important to me.”
    â€œTo you?” Shredder’s head jerked up in surprise.
    â€œYes.” She held her breath after this admission.
    Shredder peered at her doubtfully through the gloom. It was the last thing he could have expected. Now, looking at her, he realized something he must have known all along, even before she’d thrown away her containers.
    â€œKhalia,” he told her, “I hope you won’t mind if I say that I think you’re still very beautiful.”
    Against all her business principles, Khalia’s eyes welled up. Here were the words she’d been longing for. “Shredder…” she whispered, and couldn’t go on.
    It didn’t matter. They both understood. There was no need for either to pretend anymore. They’d seen through each other’s masks and poses. They were two of a kind, whatever happened next. And whatever happened next, they’d be in it together.
    For some time after this, they sat silent atop the cemetery wall while overhead the stars seemed to sparkle with applause.
    â€œI ss-saw the road builders today,” Khalia said, drawing herself up finally. “They were in the parking lot behind the shopping center unloading new machines. I think they’ll be here tomorrow.”
    â€œWell, we bought ourselves a little time,” Shredder said. “It was nice while it lasted.”
    â€œYes,” Khalia agreed, “and I’ve been thinking about that. How would it be if we bought ourselves a little more?”
    â€œA fine idea, but not