Elvis and the World As It Stands

by Lisa Frenkel Riddiough

  I wait for Daddy to say something negative. Something about how Georgina must be confused. But instead, he smiles at Georgina and says, “Okay.” He gets up and walks into the kitchen. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Positive. Can you please find out what time the shelter opens?”

  “I can tell this is important to you, Georgina,” he says.

  “It is.”

  “You know I’d do anything for Clementine. And Elvis, too.” he says. “Come eat some breakfast. Then we’ll get dressed and go. Also, why are the fancy drink umbrellas all over the floor?”

  Georgina runs over and collects all the little flaggy things.

  “I really like Daddy,” I say to Clementine.

  “Who wouldn’t?” she says.

  Georgina opens the cardboard carrier, and Clementine and I jump right in, and we walk to the shelter. The air is warm and smells of grass and cars and all the things that exist in the out-of-doors. I watch through the peek holes as the shelter gets closer and closer. Old Glory is at the top, shifting just barely. We walk right through the double doors, and the familiar scent of cats and dogs mixes with the nose-tingling smell of clean. Is there anything better?

  No one is at the front desk, so we head straight in. Georgina and Daddy walk us through the shelter, with the felines on one side and the canines on the other. It’s just like I remember. I see a volunteer pushing a cart crammed with the usual cleaning supplies and food and water bowls. Georgina stops in front of the glass room with the glass door. It’s the Second Chance Club. A poster hangs on the wall.

  “There you are,” I say to Clementine.

  “C’est moi,” she says.

  “Say what?”

  “Oh, for the love of furballs, Elvis. It’s me. The poster pet of second chances.”

  I look down the corridor to the back of the building. “My condo is down there,” I say. “The place where Etta and I lived for so long.”

  My heart squeezes in my chest.

  Georgina continues walking around, and we end up back at the front where the adoption desk is. She sets the carrier on the counter. From this perch, I can see the whole place, just like on the day of the Fourth of July Adoption Extravaganza. Across from the desk on the wall is a gigantic poster that says July Fourth. There are letters forming words that I don’t know. But I can tell it’s a poster from that life-changing day. And whose picture is plastered on the front? It’s Rupert. All fluffy and happy. You can even see his eyes. He went to his forever home and was happy about it. And they put him on a poster. Wow!

  It feels like just yesterday that I left this place. It really had been my home. Is it still my home? Do I belong here? And what about Etta? The questions whizz around my head and make me dizzy.

  I’m not sure how we are going to find out what we came here to find out, and I am suddenly worried. I mew, long and loud. Rupert is on a poster. But Etta isn’t.

  Someone approaches the desk, but I can’t see their face through the peek holes. “Are you returning these cats? We’ve had a few returns this week.”

  I dart around and strain my neck. I’d know that voice anywhere.

  “No, no,” Georgina says. “We got these cats here. Clementine a while ago, and Elvis on the Fourth of July.”

  “Elvis!”

  It’s Carly. She opens the carrier and looks in at us. “Hey there, sweet pea. And Clementine! From the poster. Our Second Chance champion.”

  “Hi, Carly. It’s me,” I say.

  “I know,” she says. “I love you, too.”

  Carly reaches in and scratches behind my ears. She strokes Clementine on her back. She is so kind, but some things never change.

  “What can I do for you all?” she says, lifting me out of the carrier and snuggling me like in the old days. I let my motor run for a moment to let her know that I still like her.

  “I’m here to help my cats,” Georgina says. “Elvis wanted to come. So did Clementine.”

  “They did? Wow, most of our residents don’t want to come back once they’ve found their forever homes.”

  “There’s something about this shelter that is very important to both of them,” Georgina says.

  “I understand,” Carly says. “I just wish they could speak to us, you know? And tell us exactly what they need.”

  “I’m speaking now,” I say, bringing my motor to an abrupt halt.

  “Aww. Elvis is so full of love,” Carly says. “Hey, you know we just got a postcard from the couple who adopted Elvis’s sister. Let me see if I can find it.”

  “Elvis has a sister!” Georgina says.

  Carly puts me back in the carrier and my heart starts pounding.

  “What’s a postcard, Clementine?” I say.

  “It’s like a letter.”

  “From the alphabet?”

  “No. The kind that comes in the mail.”

  “Oh, right,” I say, not that I have any idea what that means. “But a couple adopted Etta!” I let that sink in for a moment. Etta was adopted.

  “Elvis wants to see his family,” Georgina says. My heart swoons. She knows.

  Daddy doesn’t say a word. But he seems to be lending emotional support, like Mo.

  I sit at full attention while Georgina sticks her fingers in the peek holes of the carrier. Clementine busies herself with grooming her orange patch.

  Carly is back in a flash, her arms swinging around her body. “I got it!” she says, waving something in the air.

  “I can’t believe this, Clementine. A postcard from Etta,” I say. “Mo is never going to believe this. That we made our way to the shelter. He’s going to flip. Probably a standing backflip! The postcard has an address, right? With a zip code. Maybe Etta lives in 94611 like us.”

  “Elvis,” Clementine says, “it’s true that Mo will be happy. But let’s take it easy.”

  Carly holds the postcard in both hands. It is small, and I can see that it has lots of letters on it. Carly reads it.

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Elvis?” Carly says. “Your sister is so happy with her forever family. They live in San Jose. Now let’s take a picture and I’ll send it back to the Burton-Lees. Won’t that be nice?”

  “Is San Jose in our zip code?” I say. “94611?”

  “I don’t think so,” Clementine says.

  This isn’t what I thought would happen. I thought I would find out more. I thought I would get to see Etta. Or something.

  “San Jose is kind of far away,” Georgina says softly. She looks at me through the peek holes. “I think you miss your sister,” she says. “Elvis and Etta.” Georgina looks back at Daddy. “There were two of them.”

  “Yes, so there were.” Daddy puts his arm around Georgina.

  Where is San Jose?

  “It’s perfect,” Carly says. “All we ever hope for is that our animals are happy and well cared for. The Burton-Lees are wonderful. It’s a best-case scenario. How about a picture of the four of you now?”

  Georgina lifts me out of the carrier. I can hardly breathe. My eyes dart around, looking for signs of Etta. San Jose? I look at Clementine cuddled in Daddy’s arms.

  “You’re going to be fine,” Clementine says.

  I think of Etta’s gray fluff. Her little white paws.

  I think of us together. Listening to Carly’s stories. Pretending to be Xes. The snuggling. The treading. Our life. The one that used to be.

  “Smile, Elvis,” Clementine says. “Smile for Etta.”

  A light flashes.

  The Burton-Lees. Jonathan’s sock drawer. Etta’s forever home.

  I blink.

  My eyes sting.

  I feel dizzy.

  And sick.

  “You make a beautiful family,” Carly says.

  Chapter 30

  I settle back in the carrier with Clementine and stare out the peek holes.

  Etta is happy and safe. That is all I should hope for. But I feel empty. And lost.

  “I’m sorry, Elvis,” Clementine says. She pres
ses her face into mine. “I was rooting for you. I really was. But at least you have answers.”

  I try my best to focus on the positive.

  “Clementine,” Georgina says. “We need to find out about Clementine. Maybe she has a sister, too.”

  Daddy speaks up. “I adopted her last fall, just before Halloween. She was such a sad little gal. So scrawny. Her fur was matted and thin. But I loved her immediately. And look at her now. Healthy and beautiful!”

  I look at Clementine, who is hanging on Daddy’s every word.

  “Can we find out if she had relatives?” Georgina says. “You know, littermates. Like Elvis.”

  Why is it that every time someone says my name, my heart pounds out of my chest?

  “Oh, I didn’t start working here until May,” Carly says. “I only know Clementine from her poster.”

  “Yeah. I figured it was a long shot,” Daddy says. “I’m sorry, Georgina.”

  “But I can look in her file and see what I can find. Last October, right? Give me a couple minutes.”

  Clementine looks at me with wide eyes, but then she closes them and goes back to licking her orange patch. I press my eyes to the peek holes. I can’t see where Carly has gone. “Maybe she’ll find some information,” I say.

  “It’s not likely,” Clementine says.

  But Carly comes right back with papers in her hands and a smile on her face. “She didn’t have a littermate. But she had kittens. Four of them,” she says.

  “Four kittens!” Georgina says.

  Clementine stops preening and looks at me with a blank expression.

  “We keep pretty good files here. All four were adopted. Two of them went together to a nice family up north. One went to San Francisco—looks like Nob Hill—fancy! And the fourth. He was adopted, too. And of all the luck. He came back to us a couple weeks ago. He’s been in the back room, with the veterinarians, until just yesterday. Honestly, it’s a miracle that you’re here today.”

  Clementine stands up. “Elvis,” she says. “Oh, Elvis.” She looks at me, and I think she might faint. I think I might faint!

  Carly opens the carrier again. She reaches in and holds Clementine’s face in her hands. “Your kitten is in the Second Chance Club right this minute.”

  Everything that happens next happens so fast that it is a blur. Georgina picks up the carrier and practically runs all of us over to the glass doors of the Second Chance Club. Looking through the peek holes is not easy. I keep getting knocked around. Carly opens the doors and Georgina steps in and sets the carrier on the floor.

  “Elvis and Clementine must stay in the carrier. Policy,” Carly says.

  I have a decent view of the place and try to spot Clementine’s kitten. “Can you see this, Clementine?” I say. “Are you seeing this?”

  “Yes,” she says softly.

  Carly kneels on the floor. “Eliot. Eliot. Come on out. There’s someone here to see you.”

  I spot the gray tip of a slim tail curled around the carpeted scratching post in a corner of the room. Very slowly, a white paw reaches out, followed by another. Then the whole body of a fluffy feline.

  “Oh, Daddy,” Georgina says, squatting down next to Carly. “Eliot.”

  Clementine practically pushes her whole self through a peek hole. “That’s my boy,” she says. “That’s my Eliot.” A short, high-pitched mew escapes her mouth. I nudge up against her.

  “That’s your Eliot,” I say.

  Eliot creeps over to Carly, and she pulls him into her arms. “He’s shy and skittish. And he wasn’t good with people for quite a while, but I’ve managed to befriend him.”

  “What happened to him?” Georgina asks.

  “We don’t know for sure. Only that his owner said he went missing for a few days, and when he showed up again, he was weak and scared. He could have been hit by a car. Who knows? But then the owner had to move and felt it best to bring him back. It’s unfortunate.”

  “It’s not unfortunate for Clementine,” Daddy says. “This is amazing.”

  Clementine calls for him. “Eliot. Eliot.”

  Eliot looks over at us.

  “He knows you,” I say.

  Eliot jumps from Carly’s arms and comes right over to our carrier. He peers through a peek hole.

  “Eliot,” Clementine says again.

  “I know you,” Eliot says.

  “Yes,” Clementine replies.

  “You’re my mother.”

  What happens next fills a part of the emptiness in my heart.

  Eliot coos.

  Clementine glows.

  Georgina begs.

  Daddy stammers.

  Carly keeps saying how much she loves us all.

  And before you can say “holy habitat,” there is a third cat in our cardboard carrier. It’s not Etta. But seeing Clementine with one of her kittens saves my life in a way that I cannot explain.

  After a few moments back at the adoption desk, and for the second time in my life, I watch through the peek holes as the magnificent red bricks, the sparkling glass windows, and Old Glory—swaying in the breeze at the top of the City Shelter of Care and Comfort—fade from my view.

  Chapter 31

  I don’t speak at all in the carrier.

  Clementine preens and cleans her boy and her boy turns on the loudest motor that I’ve ever heard. It all seems as unlikely as a man walking a tightrope between two towers a thousand feet in the sky.

  They wouldn’t be together if we hadn’t built the replica of the shelter. And that wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t gone to Daddy’s for the weekend. And we wouldn’t have gone to Daddy’s for the weekend if Georgina hadn’t asked to bring me. And Georgina wouldn’t have asked to bring me if I didn’t live in her bedroom. And I wouldn’t live in her bedroom if Mo wasn’t so nice and if I hadn’t tried to leave and hurt my leg and accidentally knocked over Laverne’s bowl and gotten mad at Bambi and . . .

  I close my eyes.

  Clementine wouldn’t be with Eliot if I hadn’t tried to find Etta.

  Etta.

  You’re with the Burton-Lees. In San Jose. At your forever home with your forever family. But you’re still my sister.

  I love you, Etta. I will never forget you.

  “Mommy and I had a quick text chat,” Daddy says. “She agrees that it is best if we all go back to her house. The apartment rules and all.”

  “No cats allowed is really stupid,” Georgina says.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  “I’ll stay for the day, G, and help Eliot get adjusted,” Daddy says.

  “Yay!” Georgina says. She sticks her fingers through the peek holes. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see your sister, Elvis,” she says. “But you are here with me. With all of us. And we love you so much.”

  I close my eyes and sigh. Daddy’s rambling contraption of a car hits a bump in the road and Eliot and Clementine fall right on top of me, squishing me into the side of the carrier. They laugh. I laugh, too. There are so many emotions, but one thing is sure. I cannot wait to tell Mo everything that has happened.

  “You know, G,” Daddy says. “I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe it’s time for a bigger apartment. One that allows pets.”

  When we arrive at home, Mommy is standing on the front porch. She shakes her head. But then she smiles with all her teeth. “Three cats,” she says. “I guess this is our new normal.”

  “Mommy, it’s so exciting! Eliot is Clementine’s kitten. He’s almost full-grown, and he’s so cute. Clementine is so happy. We just had to get him. Daddy’s going to move to a bigger apartment so he can have pets, and then Elvis and Clementine and Eliot can go with me when I go to Daddy’s. It’s all perfect!”

  “Oh my goodness,” Mommy says.

  “And Elvis has a sister, Mommy. A sister. She lives in San Jose!” Georgina dances around all of us, and, honestly, you’d have to be a real party pooper not to celebrate.

  “Georgina is right, Vanessa,” Daddy says. And my first tho
ught is, who’s Vanessa? But then I figure it out. Of course I figure it out. I’m not stupid. “I couldn’t possibly leave Eliot at the shelter.”

  “I know,” Mommy/Mrs. Pemberton/Vanessa says. Then she hands Georgina a small book, opened to a page with pictures. Georgina looks at it for a long time.

  “It was on the bookshelf all along,” Mommy says.

  I watch Georgina fiddle with a plastic covering of sorts and gently take a picture out of the album. She studies it closely and then looks at Mommy. “Thank you, Mommy,” she says.

  Mommy reaches down and holds Georgina’s face in her hands, and for the first time, I watch Georgina put her arms around her mother.

  “I love you, Georgina,” Mommy says.

  “We both do,” Daddy says.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 32

  Clementine gets right to the business of showing Eliot around the house, and I beeline up to our room in search of Mo.

  Laverne splashes out her warning. “INCOMING! ELVIS!”

  I must admit that I love when Laverne shouts my name.

  Mo is sitting on the top of his plastic palace, working on his trap door or something. “I thought you were staying at Daddy’s for the whole weekend,” he says.

  “We came home early. There is so much to tell you, Mo.”

  “I’m glad you’re back. Tell me everything!”

  Mo climbs down onto the floor and comes and sits in front of me. I start at the beginning, when we arrived at Daddy’s. How his house is near the shelter. How I came up with a plan. How we built the City Shelter of Care and Comfort. And all the rest.

  “I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see Etta,” he says. “But, Elvis. What you did. It’s marvelous.”

  “Georgina understood me, Mo. She knew what I was saying. You were right. It was like magic. And then we heard about Etta. And we found Eliot.”

  “It’s a world of wonder,” Mo says.

  Clementine comes into the room, beaming with pride. “I can never repay you, Elvis,” she says. She strides over to Mo, so proud, with Eliot at her side. “Mo, I’d like to introduce you to my son. This is Eliot.”