The Purr-fect Scoop

by Coco Simon

  They both looked at us until we met their eyes.

  “I’m very disappointed in the lying,” said my mom. “In both of you. How do we know that we can trust you in the future? And at a time when you’re both seeking more freedom and independence! How can we trust you to tell us the truth? If you don’t have truth, you don’t have trust.”

  I could feel the redness rising in my cheeks. Allie had been right all along. We should have come clean. I’d just been selfish because I’d liked having a secret with Isa again, feeling like partners in crime, Team P, sisters for life.

  “Taking the kittens out was simply ill-considered and impulsive,” said my mom. “You should have asked us first.”

  “And if you lie or cause us to distrust you, then the consequence is punishment,” said my dad. “Both of you girls will be spending the next four Saturday mornings working at the clinic as volunteers. You’ll be cleaning up after the animals, sending specimens to the lab, filing, whatever we ask of you. Do you understand?”

  I nodded and snuck a sidelong glance at Isabel. She was nodding too. This was a drag—they’d be making us do the worst jobs there. (“Sending specimens to the lab” meant handling all the animal poop samples, and “cleaning up after the animals” meant mopping up the pee from the nervous visitors, and vomit and worse from the sick ones.) It would also kill my chunk of time for getting homework and extracurriculars done, which would effectively cancel my social life for the next month.

  “What about soccer?” asked Isa.

  My dad raised his eyebrows and looked at my mom.

  “It will be on a case-by-case basis,” said my mom. “We’ll decide which activities you can participate in.”

  “Now let’s talk about this snake.” My dad sighed and put his empty plate on the table, then sat back and folded his arms.

  I lifted my head. “Did you see it?”

  My mom nodded. “I came up when we dropped Isabel off earlier. It is a corn snake. Thank goodness.”

  Isabel lifted her chin defiantly. “I told you!”

  “It has to go, Isa,” said my dad.

  “I know!” blurted Isabel. “I don’t even want her here anymore! She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

  My mom shook her head and put her palm to her chest. “It pains me to hear people speak about animals like that. When you take on the responsibility of a pet . . .”

  “It’s for life,” Isabel and I intoned at the same time. It was my mom’s mantra, one we’d heard probably a thousand times.

  She smiled thinly. “Well, at least we know that something is getting through.”

  I tried to catch Isabel’s eye to smile at her, but she wouldn’t look at me.

  “However,” said my dad, “Naga was a mistake. We never would have approved her as a family pet. I’m sorry, Isa, but it’s true. I know she doesn’t bite, but having a constrictor of any sort in a family home is a huge liability. Besides, what do you think she eats when she graduates from baby mice?” He squinted at Isabel.

  “Grown-up mice?” she said.

  He nodded. “And then?”

  She shrugged.

  He cleared his throat and sat forward in his seat. “Rats. Rabbits, even. Depends on how big she gets.”

  Isabel looked aghast. “What?”

  My mom was nodding.

  “Kittens?” I asked.

  My dad shook his head. “That would be very rare.”

  “But not impossible?” I pressed.

  “Naga’s not an adult snake, anyway!” protested Isabel. “Why are you trying to make this all sound worse than it is?”

  “Why are you yelling at me? You don’t even want her, so what do you care?” I yelled.

  Isabel huffed and folded her arms.

  “Girls, please. Let’s not fight,” Mom said.

  “I have some contacts that I’ll be in touch with tomorrow,” said my dad as he stood with his plate to go get another slice of pizza. “I don’t think it will be a problem to find someone to take a healthy young corn snake. But I hate having to do it. It makes me look like a fool to be suffering from the ‘accidental pet’ problem in my own family.” He looked at us grimly. “Vets don’t make mistakes like that.” He left the room.

  I nearly said, “Couldn’t you just lie about who it belongs to?” but I caught myself just in time. Yikes! I was in danger of turning into quite the dishonest person.

  “In addition,” said my mother, actually wagging her finger back and forth at the two of us. “I don’t like the discord I’m seeing between you two over the past few months. Now, obviously, we can’t force you to get along, but I’d like you both to make more of an effort with each other. We’re only four people in this family, and if half of us aren’t getting along, it really affects the whole. You are so lucky to have each other, and it breaks my heart to see you at odds.”

  I stared straight ahead, not even looking at Isabel. I was sure she wasn’t looking at me, either.

  “Get it together, girls,” said my mom. “You are sisters. Sisters for life. ¿Entienden?”

  I nodded slightly. “Yes. I understand.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Isabel nod once.

  My dad came back with the box of pizza and offered it around to everyone. So they hadn’t bought garlic knots. They must really have been mad.

  But then my mom said, “Andres, what did you do with the knots?”

  And my dad said, “¡Ay! I left them in the warming bag in the car. Hang on.”

  Well. At least they didn’t totally hate us.

  I promised myself I wouldn’t even try to speak to Isabel that night, but I couldn’t stand having someone mad at me, especially if we were under the same roof. Especially when it was my sister. One of us had to make the first move. After I took my shower and cleaned up my room (sort of ), I’d run out of things to do. I was going to go downstairs and watch a movie with my parents, but I thought it was worth trying just one more time to get Isa to talk to me.

  I knocked on her door.

  No reply.

  I knocked again.

  Nothing.

  Finally I turned her door handle a tiny bit, and feeling no resistance, I opened the door. Inside, Isabel sat with her back to her closed closet door, Naga in her lap. She looked up at me scornfully and said nothing.

  I closed the door and left.

  Later I texted Allie and Tamiko to tell them about our punishment.

  You got off easy, Allie replied.

  Kinda agree, said Tamiko.

  I paused. Then I typed, Isabel is still not speaking to me. Might never again.

  I watched the screen to see what they would say.

  Finally Allie replied, Things usually look better in the morning. Go to sleep.

  And Tamiko added, What she said.

  I plugged in my phone and powered down for the night. I hoped they were right.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FRIENDS AND FAMILY

  The next morning Isabel was gone by the time I got downstairs. I was disappointed.

  I’d awoken with a fresh outlook, just as Allie had said, and I’d been hoping to make peace. It was frustrating that Isabel had left early.

  At breakfast the kitties were going to new lengths to amuse themselves. Shimmying behind the fridge and getting stuck, scaling a bath towel hanging on the laundry closet doorknob—until the towel slipped and sent the kitten cartwheeling backward across the floor.

  “They’re really into everything, aren’t they?” I said to my mom, who was leaning against the cabinet and drinking her coffee with a faraway look on her face.

  “Mmm-hmm. They remind me of you girls when you were little.”

  She kept saying that. I hesitated, but then I said quietly, “Mami, I miss Isa. Why does she hate me so much?”

  My mom came and put her arm around me. “Oh, mi amor. Being your age is so tough. All you kids are trying to understand life and who you are. I think Isa is trying to figure out who she is and what she wants to be, and unlike
most preteens, she has a mirror image staring back at her all the time. Imagine trying to reinvent yourself by changing, but you’re always basically still there. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it is to be an identical twin.”

  I swirled my cereal around in the bowl.

  “I just don’t like the same things as her anymore,” I said. “I mean, snakes . . . ugh!”

  My mom laughed. “I love snakes!”

  I was surprised. “You do?”

  “Yup. I had a few as a kid. They’re fascinating and beautiful.”

  “Huh,” I said, picturing it. “You did? So? About Isa?”

  My mom sighed. “Isa is just trying on new identities, exploring new interests, and it’s age appropriate. No one knows who or what they’re going to be for life at your age. Let’s just give her some space. The harder you chase her or push her, the more she’ll dig in her heels. Just like that one!” She pointed at Cinnamon, who was battling Butterscotch, and we laughed. “The most important thing is that Isa is always your sister and you always love each other and stand by each other. Understand?”

  I nodded. “I did try to protect her,” I said softly.

  “I know you did,” Mom said. “Dad and I talked about that. And even though you lied and it wasn’t right, I know you were covering for your sister. I understand how hard that must have been.”

  “I told her to tell you!” I cried. “What was I supposed to do? She trusted me!”

  Mom looked at me. “I trust you. Trust is a big thing. Lying, even if you think you do it for the right reasons, never ends up being the right thing.”

  “I know that now,” I said.

  “And now you know that I like snakes too,” Mom said, smiling. “Sometimes life is a little difficult. But you are loved by three people in this house, always, no matter what.”

  “I’m not so sure Isa loves me,” I said. But it was weird. As soon as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. I loved Isa and Isa loved me. Sisters forever.

  Mom and I cleaned up our breakfast and gathered our things. “I’ll drive you to school,” said my mom. “That way you don’t have to run for the bus.”

  As I closed the kitchen door behind me, I took one last survey of the kittens.

  Mama Honey was lying on her side, her tail flicking; Butterscotch was chasing Honey’s flicking tail; and Marshmallow and Cinnamon were curled up together, fast asleep.

  I looked for Isa all morning around school, but I never ran into her, which wasn’t that unusual. What was unusual was that I didn’t even see her at lunch. Now that she had new friends, she sat with them at a particular table every day, and that day she wasn’t there. Did she hate me so much that she was even avoiding me at school?

  I approached her table nervously on my way to return my tray. I cleared my throat and said, “Has anyone seen Isabel?”

  The kids looked at one another, and one girl—I’m pretty sure her name was Raven—said, “I think she’s working on her science project in one of the labs.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks,” I said.

  I had a few minutes before my next class, so I waved good-bye to Tamiko back at our table, and to our other friend, MacKenzie. Then I headed off to look for Isabel on the science floor. In the second lab I spied her through the window in the door. Her head was bent over a tank filled with wood shavings. Mice. What was she doing?

  I saw her teacher, Mr. Sacks (I had Mr. Bongort), come look in the tank from the other side. They stood there talking, and Isa was making notes in her notebook, glancing back and forth from her notes to the mice.

  Huh. What was it with this girl and mice these days? Maybe she felt bad about feeding them to Naga? Maybe she wanted to know more about their nutritional value? I shuddered. Whatever it was, it looked like she was pretty involved with it, so I didn’t bother her. I was just relieved that she wasn’t purely avoiding me.

  At dinner later she did finally appear. Granted, we were having chili, one of her favorites, so she could hardly have stayed away. The aroma had filled the downstairs of the house and then wafted its way up the stairs. My dad made the world’s best chili.

  I didn’t say anything right away, but I resolved to learn more about her mysterious and all-encompassing science project.

  Once we were all sitting at the table, with heaping bowls of hot chili in front of us and smaller bowls of shredded cheddar, sour cream, and chopped onion circulating, I pounced, just like Marshmallow.

  “What’s your science project, Isa?”

  Isabel blinked hard in surprise, then narrowed her eyes and looked away. “Just something for our biology unit.” She shrugged.

  “Oh, interesting. What are your topics, girls?” asked my mom, digging into her chili.

  I watched Isabel carefully. “I’m doing mine on carnivorous plants,” I said.

  “Wow! Exciting!” said my mom with a laugh, her hand in front of her full mouth.

  My dad rubbed his palms in fake-evil glee. “Who will we feed to it first?”

  “Dad! Those plants don’t eat people. Just gnats and things like that.”

  “One can dare to dream,” said my dad, returning to his chili.

  I laughed. “Have someone in mind?”

  He grinned. “Lots of people! Mwwaa-ha-ha-ha!” He imitated an evil laugh.

  I glanced at Isabel and could see she was trying not to smile.

  “What’s your topic, Izzy-boo?” asked my dad.

  She shrugged, then mumbled, “Genetics.”

  “Another good one! What are you researching?” asked my mom.

  Isabel wiped her mouth with her napkin and cleared her throat. “Nature versus nurture.”

  “Very interesting. And what are you finding?”

  “For some traits, nature is more important. For others, it’s nurture.”

  “What does this mean again?” I asked.

  “Sierra!” scolded my mom. “Weren’t you paying attention in class?”

  “We have different teachers. Isabel’s is better.”

  “No excuses,” said my dad, who was pretty stern about schoolwork.

  Isabel barely looked at me, but at last she explained with a long drawn-out sigh. “ ‘Nature’ refers to how you’re born—your genetics. ‘Nurture’ is how you’re raised—your environment.”

  I actually thought that our biology class had learned about that.

  “So, good news. I’ve found someone to take Naga, and he’s a really good guy,” my dad said.

  “Phew!” I said.

  “Why are you so relieved?” asked Isabel scornfully. “It’s not like she was your responsibility.” Before I could answer, I let out a little yelp of pain.

  “Ouch!” One of the kittens had just attacked my sock-clad foot. I wiggled away and tucked my feet up on my chair, crisscross applesauce, as I used to say when I was little. “I’m just saying . . . ,” I said.

  “Well, don’t say,” said Isabel, stabbing at her chili with her spoon.

  “He can come get her this weekend,” continued my dad. “I said we could bring her to the clinic with us on Saturday and he could pick her up there. He’s willing to pay for her, Iz.”

  Isabel looked up, surprised. “Really? How much? Not that I’d take the money,” she added in a hurry.

  “He offered seventy-five dollars for the snake and another fifty dollars for all the gear. You might want to take it,” said my dad. “Think about it. You can donate it to a charity that helps reptiles.”

  Isabel looked thoughtful for a moment.

  “You don’t have to decide now,” said my dad.

  I decided to ask the question that Tamiko had been pestering me about all day. “What do you think about doing an adopt-a-thon at Molly’s next Sunday, since the kittens will be eight weeks old? Tamiko would like time to publicize it if we’re going to do it. Those kittens are so adorable; I bet tons of people will come.”

  Isabel rolled her eyes.

  “What?” I said.

  “Nothing,” said Isabel. “May I
be excused?”

  “If you’re finished, sure, honey. Just put your things in the dishwasher.”

  My parents agreed to the adopt-a-thon on one condition: that we do it from three to five so that they could wrap up things at work and then come supervise and approve the adoptive families. The families would all have to agree to give the proper care to the cats. My parents even volunteered to be the cats’ vets, free of charge, for the first year. I was excited to clean up dinner and then race to text Allie and Tamiko.

  Allie checked with her mom and reported that the adopt-a-thon was fine with her. Tamiko chimed in that she’d start working on the social media stuff and said that maybe we should all get together to make posters after school. I agreed and invited them to our house on Wednesday. Tamiko said she’d take a bunch of photos of the kittens that we could post, since “they’re so photogenic.”

  Next Tamiko texted me on the side and asked if I thought we should ask anyone else to help make posters with us, like our new friend MacKenzie or even Amber, who’d adopted Gizmo the shih tzu. But sometimes Allie got kind of bummed when we invited other people to do stuff with us, because ever since Allie had left our school, she’d felt a little like we were replacing her with MacKenzie. So we had to be careful to keep it just the three of us sometimes.

  We doled out assignments for what to bring on Wednesday, and the plan was set. At breakfast the next morning I asked if Isa wanted to help us with the posters.

  “No,” she said flatly.

  Fine, I thought. Be that way.

  Tamiko and I got to my house on Wednesday just as Allie’s mom was dropping her off. The three of us piled into the kitchen, and I noticed that the door to the living room was already open and the kittens were roaming around in there. That meant Isabel was home.

  “Hello?” I called. “Isabel?”

  “In here,” she replied from the living room.

  Huh. Maybe she did want to help after all!

  I offered drinks and snacks to my friends and even called in to see whether Isabel wanted anything, but she said no. Then I noticed that she was talking to someone. I poked my head into the living room, and there on the floor, among the kittens, were Isabel and her friend Raven from school—the girl who’d directed me to the lab earlier in the week. I said hi, and then I gasped.