A Sprinkling of Thought Dust
Page 10
FACING THE FEAR
February
Trevor’s parents had stopped talking about finding a home for the cats. Winter was almost over, but the mornings were still cold.
“Hurry up, Trevor,” his mother said. “You still have to feed the cats before you leave for school.”
Trevor trudged to the closed door. Brownie pressed against the window, his meows muffled by the glass. Trevor scooped cat food onto the platter.
A soft thump was followed by scratching on the door. He glanced toward the kitchen hoping his mother hadn’t noticed. Food spilled off the platter as he hurried out. He had to push Brownie aside to get the screen door open.
“No scratching,” he said in a harsh whisper. The cat stood up on his hind legs and tried to pull the plate of food down with his paws. He crunched the fish shaped bits and arched his back as Trevor ran his fingers through the fur.
Several new scratches marred the door surface near the bottom. Not that it mattered. The whole porch needed painting.
Brownie tried to purr and eat at the same time. A musical sound faded in and out. Trevor looked out across the yard, listening. Like soft singing it mixed with Brownie’s crunching.
Morning sunlight touched the overcast sky giving the clouds a pale glow. Next to the shelter, light streamed through holes in the bush. Trevor could see two eyes looking at him. Bob was waiting for his opportunity. He picked up the frozen bowl of water and went inside. Bob crept out of the bush.
On his way back to the porch with a bowl of fresh water, Trevor heard plaintive mewing.
“I’m coming, Brownie,” he said. With each step, small splashes slid down the side of the bowl. His foot crunched on the spilled food while he balanced the bowl in one hand and pulled the door open.
He stopped with his hand on the screen door. A large black dog crouched on the bottom step. Its snapping mouth revealed sharp yellow teeth. From its throat came a low rumble.
Bob was nowhere to be seen. Brownie was backed against the wall with fluffed tail and arched back. He hissed and looked up. The dog’s muscles tensed for the spring.
Trevor flung the door open and scooped up Brownie. With a horrible bark, the dog charged up the steps. Yelling in terror, Trevor flung out his hand. The bowl of water flew out of his grasp. It landed with a shattering crash, and water exploded into the dog’s face. With a wild yelp it twisted in mid air and disappeared down the street.
Brownie buried his head under Trevor’s arm. He pulled his jacket over the trembling body. Ice crystals were already forming on the spilled water.
There was a rustle in the bush, and Bob poked his head though the leaves. The branch quivered. Gold sparkles shot up and briefly shimmered in the sunlight.
A warm hand squeezed Trevor’s shoulder making him jump.
“All you have to do is stand up to them,” his dad said. “I’m proud of you.”
Trevor tried to smile. He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t thrown the bowl. It had just slipped out of his hand when he threw his arm up to shield Brownie.