Something Worth Saving

by Sandi Ward

  “I’m going rifle shooting,” Kevin announces, a little too loud.

  “Good for you.” Aidan’s voice is even and slow. “Going to kill some furry small animals?”

  Victoria finally picks her head up, pulling her attention away from her phone, and shoots Aidan a dirty look. “Shut up.” She smacks Aidan on the arm.

  Kevin hesitates. “Um, no. We don’t shoot animals. We just aim at cards, like out of a deck of cards? It’s a competition, called the Rifle Range Poker Run.”

  Aidan nods eagerly, as if this is just what he expected. “Wow. Shooting and gambling. Doesn’t sound very Scout-like.”

  Aidan has Victoria’s full attention now. Her body turns toward him, and she gives him an icy stare. “SHUT UP.”

  “It’s not gamb—Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” Kevin walks to the front window and looks out.

  “Why wouldn’t I understand? Because I’m not Scout material?” Aidan sounds very amused at this point. “I wanna shoot things too. You think I should apply?”

  Kevin opens his mouth and shuts it, as if he is going to answer, but thinks better of it. “My ride’s here,” he says with relief, as he yanks open the door and practically runs out.

  I don’t blame Kevin for running away. I’d run away from Aidan too.

  “Why do you have to be such an ass?” Victoria sits up straight and slaps his hand as she waits for her answer.

  Aidan just looks away. He has heavy-lidded eyes and often looks sleepy. But I can tell he’s calculating what to say to her next.

  “So.” He turns back to Victoria and starts playing with one of her braids again. “You’re going with me to Dave’s party on Friday night?”

  Now it’s Victoria’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I can’t. You know I can’t. My dad’s got me, and Friday nights we always go out to this diner in Ipswich for supper. It’s our tradition.”

  Aidan scoffs. “It’s your tradition? Your dad just moved out a couple of months ago. That’s hardly a tradition.”

  Victoria has no answer to this. She just shrugs.

  “Okay. Whatever.” Aidan removes his hand from her hair. “Blow me off. But I’m not going by myself.” He slides his own phone out of his pocket and starts pressing buttons. “Maybe Jen will go with me. Or Bunny.”

  Victoria grits her teeth. “Are you serious?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m serious.” Aidan concentrates on his phone. “I told you, I’m not going by myself. Dave’s party is go big or go home. I’m not going alone, like a loser.”

  The old grandfather clock in the hall chimes four times. I wish it would chime five times, because then Aidan would go home, and we could eat dinner. I lean forward to lick my front paws. I prefer my fur clean and bright, like butter right out of the wrapper. And, to be honest, Aidan is making me nervous.

  When I look up, Victoria is reaching forward to gently push Aidan’s phone away from him. “Alright. Just . . . just wait. Let me talk to my mom. Let me see what I can do.”

  Aidan smirks. He’s won. Again.

  I have noticed that he usually wins arguments.

  “I’m going to the bathroom.” Victoria scowls and gets up.

  “Bring me back a soda,” Aidan calls after her. He watches her go. “Something with caffeine. And ice too.”

  “Get it yourself,” she yells back at him.

  When she leaves the room, I study Aidan. I can’t figure it out: Why does Victoria like him?

  He has wide-set eyes, a broad forehead, and dark hair. There is something in his face that is essentially unhappy, no matter what day of the week he visits. Sometimes I’ll catch him staring at nothing, and he will flinch with a memory. I wonder what else is happening in his life to cause him such torment.

  When he sees me staring at him, and we make eye contact, I think that Aidan looks very dark. What I mean is: as if he thinks evil thoughts. He is a creature that could turn on you, like a mouse that you think you have caught and killed, but then suddenly turns and sinks his sharp teeth into your paw.

  Aidan and I get into a staring contest. I finally blink first.

  Humans staring at me make me uncomfortable.

  I hear a rustling upstairs, and my ears prick up. It’s Charlie, moving around. He probably has his headphones on again, and doesn’t know Aidan is here.

  I don’t want Charlie to come down. Aidan isn’t very nice to Charlie.

  Aidan comes over a lot lately, so perhaps Charlie should assume he’s here. But Aidan is a new visitor, and this is Charlie’s home. I can’t blame Charlie if he forgets to be careful in his own home.

  I hear the bed creaking, and the sink running, and then footsteps coming down the stairs.

  My heart starts beating faster.

  Oh, Charlie—

  No, no, Charlie, I think, my whiskers tingling. Don’t come down the stairs. Go back.

  But it is too late. Charlie appears on the bottom stair. He is studying his nails, which I see he has painted black. The scent of the polish is faint, but I have a powerful sense of scent, and it stings my nose. Charlie smiles absentmindedly at his work.

  I stand up on all four paws, to get his attention. I prance toward him.

  Go back, Charlie. Quickly.

  Charlie sees me out of the corner of his eye, and I think he is going to talk to me. But he freezes when he sees Aidan. His face goes pale.

  I follow his gaze, and we both see Aidan has his head down and he is playing with his phone again. Perhaps he has not seen Charlie.

  Charlie begins to move very slowly, turning toward the kitchen. I realize he is trying to get by without Aidan noticing him. Charlie moves with the stealth of a cat, and I think he will get away with it.

  I decide to create a distraction. I run and leap up onto the coffee table next to Aidan, crying out a loud rowr! so he’s forced to look at me.

  Aidan does look, and he is startled. But he quickly turns back to Charlie.

  And only then do I realize he knew Charlie was there all along.

  “Hey, fruitcake,” Aidan greets him, just as Charlie is about to disappear, out of sight, down the hall. “Where are you sneaking off to?”

  Charlie stops, and turns. I watch him force his chin up.

  “I’m just getting a glass of water,” Charlie says, keeping his voice even.

  Aidan looks Charlie over, from head to toe. “What did you do to your nails?” Aidan makes a tsking sound with his tongue. “Does your sister know you used her nail polish? I hate to be a tattletale, but . . .”

  Charlie glances down at his hands. “She doesn’t care,” Charlie blurts out. “I mean, she lets me use it. She knows I borrowed it.” He turns to go.

  “Wow. What a great sister you have. She lets you be you. Weird, wonderful you.” Aidan’s voice drips with sarcasm.

  Charlie pauses. He presses his lips together and then turns to go again.

  “Hey, wait,” Aidan calls out, as Charlie disappears down the hall. “Can you get me a soda while you’re in the kitchen? Thanks, buddy.”

  I leap down from the coffee table and run to catch up with Charlie. He stands in the middle of the kitchen with tears in his eyes. I throw my body up against his ankles. When he doesn’t respond, I stand on my back legs with my front paws on his legs, stretch upwards, and gaze at him until he reaches down to stroke my soft fur. I hope it calms him down.

  Charlie looks at the back screen door, and I know what he’s thinking.

  Should he walk out to avoid having to talk to Aidan again?

  Flee from his own home?

  Charlie shouldn’t have to fetch Aidan drinks. Nor should he have to suffer being tormented in his own house. Someone is already hurting him at school.

  How many places are there where he can go and feel safe?

  Charlie takes a deep breath, and with a last glance at me, goes out the back. He pulls the door shut quietly behind him. I wish I knew where he was going, but I don’t follow him. I give him some space.

  I wish I could tell someo
ne Charlie’s secret. Someone is hurting him at school, and Aidan is causing him pain here at home, where he should be able to relax. This isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.

  I’ve decided: Aidan has to go. And if I have to, I’m going to be the one to get rid of him.

  Chapter 6

  Rock Star

  Before he visited the hospital last spring, Dad could be very focused. Every autumn he would sit on the floor for a long time with Victoria, carving a pumpkin. They used a big sharp knife to slice off the top. Sleeves rolled up, they reached into the bowels of the pumpkin and pulled out long, stringy pumpkin meat, throwing it down on a newspaper where it landed with a splat! The slimy guts of the pumpkin were disgusting, but I could see from the gleam in Victoria’s eye that she was having fun. Victoria sketched a frightening face, and Dad cut out the shapes. They worked quietly and with a tremendous effort, stopping to laugh a few times when it got too messy or Dad cut the wrong way. They laughed until they cried, wiping their tears away.

  I watched from under the stairs, and fell asleep there. I woke later to the warm scent of roasting pumpkin seeds and a glowing pumpkin with a frowning face staring right at me.

  Scary! My fur stood on end.

  Dad also liked choosing old movies to watch with Charlie. They used to make popcorn or grab a whole package of cookies to eat while watching. Sometimes they’d laugh together. Other times, Charlie would get weepy, and Dad always comforted him, one hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Sorry, kid,” Dad would say, “I didn’t remember this movie was so sad.” Charlie would nod, grabbing a tissue.

  After the children went to bed, Mom liked to light candles in the study. The candlelight made the room glow. Dad and Mom would relax, get cozy, and talk. Mom liked to lie down on the couch and rest her head on his leg. Dad told Mom all kinds of stories about his day, and she would laugh at his jokes or squeeze his knee with worry when his stories got suspenseful.

  Now that he has moved out, Dad seems to make everyone unhappy. Sometimes, on Fridays, Charlie will get home from school and I can sense the stress radiating from him. It builds through the afternoon in a slow and steady manner, like the way the river rises and floods with a high tide during the full moon. Charlie lies on his bed, very still, his arms wrapped around himself.

  Even though his time with Dad makes Charlie upset, Mom usually insists that he go. She says it is important that Charlie spend time with his dad.

  But this weekend, Charlie is not going to see Dad.

  After a family negotiation, it was decided that Charlie and Victoria could stay home. Charlie wanted to have his friends over, and Victoria wanted to attend the party with Aidan. So Kevin is the only one who is going to stay with Dad.

  Kevin agreed that Mom shouldn’t make the others go if they didn’t want to. He was loyal to everyone involved. He seemed happy at the thought of having Dad all to himself.

  Mom made the call to Dad. I could see it was not easy for her. She held her phone in her lap a long time, sitting in a kitchen chair and practicing what she would say. I don’t think her children understand the position they put her in when they make these demands, that much is clear to me.

  Yet I don’t think Dad protested very hard. I could hear the relief in Mom’s voice with her every “thank you,” holding one hand to her forehead.

  So now it is Friday afternoon, and Charlie has a relaxed smile on his face. His best friend Karen is here.

  Karen is tall and thin, and often wears her long dark hair in a ponytail. She comes to the house about once a week, which interrupts my private time with Charlie. But I don’t mind. Karen is kind. I’m glad Charlie has a good friend.

  Mom seems to like Karen too. She watches her son and this girl from a respectful distance. Sometimes she offers snacks, or asks Karen if she’d like to stay for dinner.

  The two of them sit outside on the front step after school, each with a can of brown soda, the kind of drink that hits the pavement with a fizz! if it gets spilled. It is a fine spring day. This morning, the air was so cold that the children could see their breath in the air when they walked to the bus stop. But now, if I sit still, the sun feels warm and strong.

  I lie down between the humans, my paws just at the edge of the step. I gaze out on the river. The water is smooth and gray and glassy today beyond the marsh grass. No waves, no chop. My ears twitch at every bird cry, my eyes distracted by every beating wing. Nature is waking up after a long, tedious winter.

  The yellow bus rumbles by and pulls into the parking lot across the street, rolling to a halt. It’s not long before the boys spill out of the bus, stretching their arms and reaching down to touch their toes. They peel off layers down to their T-shirts and shorts.

  The group exits the sailing club gates and turns. About ten minutes later, they appear at the end of the street to complete their first lap of the long block.

  When they jog by, Charlie and Karen talk quietly amongst themselves, but they both watch the boys. I come to realize that perhaps Charlie doesn’t need to hide when he is with Karen because, like a dog who is part of a pack, he is stronger with another human beside him.

  Humans can be doglike in that regard. It’s a concept that doesn’t apply to cats. I am very territorial, and would never allow another cat in this yard.

  Never!

  There are three boys who are usually the last in the pack, and today is no exception. One of them glances over, and happens to see Charlie and Karen. He’s a little out of breath, and his cheeks are pink from the effort he’s making. He smiles and nods at them. “Enjoying the view?” he calls out, spreading his arms out in front of him.

  Charlie’s mouth drops open, and Karen giggles. It is the first time Charlie has sat out in the open while the boys run past. I doubt he expected any of them to address him from the street. Charlie’s eyes sparkle with surprise, but he clearly has no idea what to say.

  Of course, we do have a lovely view of the river from our steps. But I get the impression this young man is making a joke of some kind.

  The boy just keeps smiling, and continues running.

  They watch him go, keeping their eyes on him until the moment he is out of sight.

  Karen grins. “He’s funny, isn’t he?”

  “You know that kid?” Charlie asks. “He’s new.”

  “Yeah.” Karen plays with her ponytail. “He’s in my math class, and he’s hilarious. Everyone loves him. He’s a year older than us. Maybe at his old school they had a different order of math courses.”

  “You’ve talked to him?” Charlie persists. “What’s his name?”

  “I think it’s Raul, or something like that. It’s Spanish, maybe . . . ?”

  “Does . . . Do you think Raul likes you?”

  “Me?” Karen leans in and put her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Do I think he likes me?” She shakes her head. “He wasn’t talking to me. He was looking at you, Charlie.”

  Charlie opens his eyes very wide and shakes his head. “Nah.”

  “Yes, he was,” she says, singing the words. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  The birds in the trees around us seem to agree with her. They chatter excitedly. I turn my head left and right, but they are all out of my reach. What a bunch of babbling fools. I feel like they’re mocking my human friends. I could catch and kill every one of those birds before days’ end if I wanted to.

  Stupid birds.

  Karen continues to tease Charlie, but he isn’t mad. He just laughs. Although he does take a quick look around.

  “Don’t worry.” Karen adjusts her ponytail. “Aidan’s definitely not here. I saw him and your sister drive off in his car after school. They headed downtown.”

  Ah. So even Karen knows about Aidan! He’s trouble.

  Charlie and Karen talk for a long time, until the sun begins to dip low in the sky. They are eventually joined by another girl who comes walking up the street. I don’t recognize her. I wander off to stalk birds, and do not return to the house until dusk.

  I scratch a
t the back door until Mom lets me in. I first grab a drink at my water bowl, and then go to find Charlie. I gallop up the stairs and find him in the upstairs bathroom. Charlie sits patiently on the toilet and lets the girls assemble tools on the counter by the sink.

  “We’re gonna make you look like a rock star, okay?”

  Charlie looks back and forth from one girl to the other. He swallows nervously. But then he smiles and agrees, and the girls squeal with happiness.

  Karen hovers over Charlie with a focused gleam in her eye. She orders him to close his eyes so she can draw with a pencil on his eyelids, and then she tells him to open his eyes so she can feather out his eyelashes with a brush. Then she powders his nose.

  This is curious! I watch them closely.

  I figure out that the new girl is named Candice. Candice is short with brown curls. She teases up Charlie’s hair, spraying it this way and that. She works with many brushes and tools that she plugs into the wall. Brush. Spray. Brush some more.

  Okay, now this is boring. And the spray makes me sneeze.

  I stroll over to the thin paper on a roll. I’ve seen this work many times before. I wonder if I can make it go.

  I reach up, pawing and scratching, until I get more and more paper to spool out onto the floor.

  Woo-hoo!

  This is fun. Paper is everywhere.

  “Lily J. Potter, stop,” Charlie begs, waving a hand at me.

  I scamper back to my corner. Charlie calls me by my full name when I’m causing trouble.

  “Your cat is beautiful, Charlie,” Candice says. “Her fur is so long and lush. But she walks funny. Is she okay?”

  Charlie shakes his head. “She doesn’t walk funny. She’s fine.”

  Looking up at her, I notice for the first time that Candice has metal on her teeth. Metal! And elastic bands. I think it must be some kind of human jewelry that I’ve never seen before. Bizarre.

  I learn new things about the humans all the time.

  The girls continue their task, laughing and poking at Charlie, and work on him for a long time. There is a lot of back-and-forth, with the three of them talking loudly. Finally, the girls decide that their job is done.