my pocket and unwrapped the bacon
from it. I held the bacon out for the cats to smell. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
The black-and-white cat peeked out tentatively, sniffing the
bacon. For a couple of minutes, I sat still as a statue so she would learn to
trust me. Finally, she crept toward me, took the bacon, and ran back into the
shadows. I noticed a movement next to the cat and held out another piece of
bacon. Again, still as a statue, I waited. But this time I was rewarded by the
appearance of a little black kitten, a spitting image of its mother. The kitten
crept up slowly, its whiskers tickling my fingers.
“Wow,” I whispered so I wouldn’t scare it.
Paige came over to the steps to look, but Wendy stayed on the road
in front of the house.
“It’s a kitten!” she said.
“Quiet, Paige,” I whispered. “Don’t scare him.”
Paige took a pinch of egg from her stash and held it out.
“He looks like an Oreo cookie with a little bit of cream on his
chest,” I said.
Unaware of us, the kitten ate the egg and smelled around for more.
Slowly, he came out from the shadows. He wasn’t as shy as his mother, but when
we ran out of food, he quickly returned to his place next to her.
“I’m going to name him Oreo,” I said.
I looked up at the front door and saw Crazy
Mary peeking out from behind the curtain. She didn’t appear mad, or weird, or
crazy. Just curious. She looked at me with apprehensive eyes. Her white hair
was pulled back into a neat bun making her look like an eloquent queen, all
prim and proper. She was wearing a blue dress and she looked so— normal .
I was expecting wild, wispy hair and big bulging eyes with spinning pupils.
I waved to her, trying to be friendly.
She smiled at me, then stepped out of view.
“What are you doing?” Wendy said. “She’s crazy! And she hates
kids.”
“Sorry, but she doesn’t seem as crazy as everyone says she is.
Plus she smiled at me, so she couldn’t hate kids that much. I think she just
needs someone to care about her. Maybe she’s lonely. I would be, if I was
locked up in a big house all day with no one to talk to.”
“Me too,” Paige said.
I smiled at her. For being so young, she seemed to have a lot of
compassion, unlike Wendy.
“Let’s go,” Wendy said.
I looked at the door one last time before we left.
LATER, AT THE cottage, we played music on the radio and danced
with each other. Wendy lifted her hand and I turned under it. Then she put both
arms up and we both turned. We laughed.
“I want a turn!” Paige said.
Uncle Butch came on to the porch. “What are you girls up to?”
“We’re trying to dance, Daddy,” Paige said.
“We don’t know how to dance like you and Mom, but it’s still fun,”
Wendy said.
“Here, let me show you. Your mom can help too.” He put his
cigarette in the ash tray. “Lori, come here for a minute. We need your help.
The girls want to learn how to dance.”
“Is that so?” Aunt Lori came in from the kitchen, slinging a dish
towel over her shoulder and wiping the strands of hair away from her face with
the back of her hand.
“Daddy, are you really going to teach us how to dance?” Paige
jumped up and down like a bean on a hot plate.
“Sure, honey.”
“Chris wants to learn how to dance so she can dance with Dave,”
Paige said innocently.
I cringed, embarrassed. What a tattle-tale. “No I don’t.”
Wendy elbowed Paige. “Shut up.”
“Does she?” Uncle Butch asked. He studied me, like I was some kind
of secret he was trying to figure out, some sort of combination for him to
unlock.
I sat on the arm of the couch embarrassed that Uncle Butch knew I
liked Reds.
“Well then, let’s get started,” Uncle Butch said.
Aunt Lori held out her hands and asked me to join her. Then Paige
and Wendy stood in front of each other joining hands as my uncle told us what
to do.
“Now, when I say, lift your arms for a turn. Chris and Wendy, you
will be the men, or leaders, so you
from it. I held the bacon out for the cats to smell. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
The black-and-white cat peeked out tentatively, sniffing the
bacon. For a couple of minutes, I sat still as a statue so she would learn to
trust me. Finally, she crept toward me, took the bacon, and ran back into the
shadows. I noticed a movement next to the cat and held out another piece of
bacon. Again, still as a statue, I waited. But this time I was rewarded by the
appearance of a little black kitten, a spitting image of its mother. The kitten
crept up slowly, its whiskers tickling my fingers.
“Wow,” I whispered so I wouldn’t scare it.
Paige came over to the steps to look, but Wendy stayed on the road
in front of the house.
“It’s a kitten!” she said.
“Quiet, Paige,” I whispered. “Don’t scare him.”
Paige took a pinch of egg from her stash and held it out.
“He looks like an Oreo cookie with a little bit of cream on his
chest,” I said.
Unaware of us, the kitten ate the egg and smelled around for more.
Slowly, he came out from the shadows. He wasn’t as shy as his mother, but when
we ran out of food, he quickly returned to his place next to her.
“I’m going to name him Oreo,” I said.
I looked up at the front door and saw Crazy
Mary peeking out from behind the curtain. She didn’t appear mad, or weird, or
crazy. Just curious. She looked at me with apprehensive eyes. Her white hair
was pulled back into a neat bun making her look like an eloquent queen, all
prim and proper. She was wearing a blue dress and she looked so— normal .
I was expecting wild, wispy hair and big bulging eyes with spinning pupils.
I waved to her, trying to be friendly.
She smiled at me, then stepped out of view.
“What are you doing?” Wendy said. “She’s crazy! And she hates
kids.”
“Sorry, but she doesn’t seem as crazy as everyone says she is.
Plus she smiled at me, so she couldn’t hate kids that much. I think she just
needs someone to care about her. Maybe she’s lonely. I would be, if I was
locked up in a big house all day with no one to talk to.”
“Me too,” Paige said.
I smiled at her. For being so young, she seemed to have a lot of
compassion, unlike Wendy.
“Let’s go,” Wendy said.
I looked at the door one last time before we left.
LATER, AT THE cottage, we played music on the radio and danced
with each other. Wendy lifted her hand and I turned under it. Then she put both
arms up and we both turned. We laughed.
“I want a turn!” Paige said.
Uncle Butch came on to the porch. “What are you girls up to?”
“We’re trying to dance, Daddy,” Paige said.
“We don’t know how to dance like you and Mom, but it’s still fun,”
Wendy said.
“Here, let me show you. Your mom can help too.” He put his
cigarette in the ash tray. “Lori, come here for a minute. We need your help.
The girls want to learn how to dance.”
“Is that so?” Aunt Lori came in from the kitchen, slinging a dish
towel over her shoulder and wiping the strands of hair away from her face with
the back of her hand.
“Daddy, are you really going to teach us how to dance?” Paige
jumped up and down like a bean on a hot plate.
“Sure, honey.”
“Chris wants to learn how to dance so she can dance with Dave,”
Paige said innocently.
I cringed, embarrassed. What a tattle-tale. “No I don’t.”
Wendy elbowed Paige. “Shut up.”
“Does she?” Uncle Butch asked. He studied me, like I was some kind
of secret he was trying to figure out, some sort of combination for him to
unlock.
I sat on the arm of the couch embarrassed that Uncle Butch knew I
liked Reds.
“Well then, let’s get started,” Uncle Butch said.
Aunt Lori held out her hands and asked me to join her. Then Paige
and Wendy stood in front of each other joining hands as my uncle told us what
to do.
“Now, when I say, lift your arms for a turn. Chris and Wendy, you
will be the men, or leaders, so you
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