Rainbow Street Pets

by Orr, Wendy

  For a minute Josh felt as empty as the cage.

  ‘We can put a fresh tin of tuna in tonight,’ said his mum.

  But even as Josh straightened the towel and the overturned tin, part of him was glad that brave, crazy cat was free.

  After Josh and Mrs Lee had gone, Buster came home, and slipped back up onto the verandah.

  Buster had barely eaten since he’d got back to his house, and he was getting tired. It was hard work sneaking bits of food – and it was warm and peaceful on the verandah in the morning sun. He curled up on Mr Larsen’s chair and fell fast asleep – so sound asleep that he didn’t hear a man coming up the path.

  ‘Hey, puss!’ the man said, and patted Buster on the head.

  Buster opened his eyes and saw a man with an orange cap leaning over him. With a wild yowl, he streaked off the verandah, his ears flat against his skull.

  The man liked cats, and most cats liked him – so when he saw a cat as afraid as Buster, he knew there was something wrong.

  ‘Here, puss!’ he called. ‘Puss, puss, puss!’ He hunted all around the garden. ‘There you are!’ he said at last.

  Buster was crouched in a corner behind the garage. His tail lashed and he hissed as the man came near.

  ‘It’s okay, mate,’ the man said. He was sure that Buster was a stray that needed help. If nobody claims him, he thought, I’ll keep him. He walked up slowly – then lunged at the frightened cat. Buster flew straight up the fence and over the other side, disappearing into the piles of building materials next door. The man shrugged, and went back to his job of hammering a big sign onto Mr Larsen’s front lawn.

  What if Buster’s not hiding at his own place? Josh thought as he walked home from school. He might have run miles away!

  He looked through the fence at the building site, but it didn’t look like a place for a cat to hide.

  Then Josh heard something.

  ‘Meow.’

  It was very faint. It sounded far away, and it didn’t sound tough enough to be a giant cat with attitude.

  ‘Buster?’ Josh called, walking back and forth beside the fence. ‘Buster?’

  ‘Meow,’ the cat called back.

  It still sounded faint, and it sounded scared.

  Josh raced back to Mr Larsen’s garden and looked behind the garage. ‘Buster?’ he called again.

  He couldn’t hear the mewing at all now, but there were scuff marks in the dirt and a tuft of orange cat hair on the fence. Buster had been there.

  Josh dragged Mr Larsen’s chair off the verandah and around to the back corner. Standing on the chair, he could pull himself up to the top of the fence. He swung his leg over and jumped down into the building site. He landed on his hands and feet, brushed the dirt off his hands, and called again.

  ‘Buster?’

  The mewing started again. It was coming from the pile of aluminium air-conditioning pipes.

  CHAPTER 10

  osh raced over to the stack of pipes. He crawled all around them, peering into each one, but he couldn’t see a cat. He tried to lift one, but it was much too heavy. He hoped Buster wasn’t trapped under them!

  Josh put his foot on the top pipe and tried to roll it off. It rocked back and forth.

  ‘MEOW!’

  The sound was coming from deep inside the bottom pipe, which was bent like an elbow. It sounded as if Buster had got himself around that bend and didn’t know how to get back. Josh raced around to the other end. There was a grid across it.

  Josh wished he were so big and strong that he could just pick up the pipe and gently slide Buster out to safety. But he wasn’t big and strong. He was small and skinny.

  A little voice in Josh’s head said he should go home and get help. But he wriggled into the pipe after the cat.

  It was like crawling through the play-gym tunnel when he was in kindergarten, except that it was a lot narrower. The play-gym tunnel had been tall enough for little kids to crawl through on their hands and knees, but in this pipe there wasn’t even room for Josh to spread his elbows to pull himself along: the only way was to slither like a snake, the metal ridges of the pipe pressing cold and hard against his stomach.

  It was a lot darker than the play-gym tunnel too. And this pipe had a giant terrified cat stuck around the bend.

  Josh was at the bend in the pipe. Now that he’d nearly reached Buster he remembered all the things he should have thought of first: like a tin of tuna, or a towel to wrap him in.

  He wiggled his head and shoulders around the bend. He could just see the cat’s shape as Buster backed up further, flattening himself against the grid at the end.

  ‘Hi Buster,’ said Josh. ‘It’s me.’

  Buster mewed. It was the little kitten mew that Josh had heard from the outside.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Josh told him. ‘I’m going to get you out of here.’

  Very, very slowly, he reached towards the cat. ‘Mr Larsen wouldn’t like you to be stuck in here, would he?’ he said. He knew that Buster didn’t understand what he was saying, but he had to keep on trying. ‘Mr Larsen says you’re a hero. He wants you to come out and have some tuna.’

  Buster pushed his head against Josh’s hand and let Josh stroke him gently over his head and down his neck, which was as far as Josh could reach.

  ‘You ready to go back now?’ Josh asked.

  Buster didn’t move.

  Josh wriggled in a bit further. Now he could reach right around the cat, but he kept his face down against the metal floor. If he was going to get scratched, the top of his head was better than his face.

  ‘This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,’ he told Buster.

  With his arm around the cat’s back, he pulled Buster gently towards him. Buster didn’t scratch or fight, but he didn’t help either; he just let Josh pull him, as if he was too tired to care what happened.

  It’s not easy inching backwards around a bend in a tight metal tunnel, but it’s even harder when you’re pulling a cat that doesn’t want to move. For a minute Josh remembered his nightmare and thought he wasn’t going to be able to do it. He knew he should have gone home and asked for help instead of crawling in here all alone.

  But all he could do was slide slowly backwards, coaxing the cat and pulling him, inch by inch.

  He eased his shoulders back around the bend, then his head. Then slowly, slowly, he tugged Buster back down the tunnel.

  It seemed a long way, even further than it had been going in. Josh didn’t know how long he’d been in the pipe, and he couldn’t guess how much further he had to go.

  His left foot touched dirt.

  Josh paused. He was nearly there – but he was going to have to hold on tight to Buster. He couldn’t lose the cat just as they burst free of the pipe!

  He was concentrating so hard it took a minute to hear the voice from outside. ‘Josh! Josh – are you in there?’

  ‘I’ve got Buster,’ he called. ‘He’s really scared.’

  ‘So was I!’ snapped his mum.

  Josh was finally out. He stood up with Buster in his arms.

  His mum’s face was white and tense. Behind her were two construction workers.

  ‘When I found your bag behind the fence, I phoned the number on the gate here,’ she said. ‘These men came and let me in.’

  ‘There’s a reason it’s locked,’ the taller man said. ‘We don’t want kids getting hurt going places they’re not supposed to be.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Josh.

  ‘Lucky you’re so skinny,’ said the other man. ‘If you’d got stuck in that pipe you’d have been in real trouble!’

  Josh carried Buster to where Mrs Lee had parked, in front of Mr Larsen’s house. Buster was heavy, but Josh liked carrying him, and Buster seemed to think that was okay.

  There was a sign on the front lawn.

  FOR SALE.

  CHAPTER 11

  osh’s mum didn’t know which hospital Mr Larsen was in, so she tried to phone his son in Sydney. There was no a
nswer.

  ‘Let’s go and get Buster checked out,’ she said, ‘and then we’ll be able to give Mr Larsen the good news.’

  Mona had told them that Buster didn’t like going in cars, so Mrs Lee got the beach towel from the cage. She wrapped it around the frightened cat before settling him into Josh’s arms.

  And maybe it was because she drove to Rainbow Street so slowly and carefully, or maybe because he knew that Josh had saved him, Buster didn’t panic at all.

  Mona was waiting for them at the gate. ‘Hey, Hero Cat,’ she said softly, leaning in to stroke the furry orange head.

  Buster rubbed against her hand and meowed, sounding a little more like himself now.

  ‘And Hero Boy,’ Mona added.

  Josh blushed.

  ‘I guess your mum’s already told you what a stupid thing you did – so I’ll just say thanks.’

  She clipped a leash onto Buster’s collar and gave the other end to Josh. ‘For most cats, it’s a carry-case,’ she said. ‘But Buster’s not most cats!’

  Josh and Buster walked up the path. Buster was almost swaggering again by the time they got into the vet’s examination room.

  The vet checked inside Buster’s mouth and ears, felt all over his body for cuts and scratches, took his temperature and listened to his heart. ‘He’s hungry and tired, and still a bit shocked,’ she said. ‘But he’s going to be absolutely fine.’

  ‘There is a problem though,’ Mona said, and her eyes filled up with tears.

  Josh held his breath.

  ‘Buster’s okay, but Mr Larsen isn’t,’ she said. ‘The doctors have told him that his hip is never going to be strong enough for him to live alone again, and he’s going to move in with his son.’

  ‘But his son’s in Sydney!’ said Mrs Lee.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mona. ‘But the real problem is that his son is allergic to cats. Mr Larsen can’t take Buster with him.’

  Josh felt his breath catch in his throat. ‘What’s going to happen to Buster?’

  ‘Mr Larsen asked if we could find him a new home.’

  ‘No!’ shouted Josh. ‘We can’t leave him here again!’

  Mrs Lee had already pulled out her phone. ‘Meet us at the Rainbow Street Shelter,’ she told Mr Lee and Mai. ‘It’s urgent!’

  ‘Have you really thought about this?’ Mona asked, when the whole family was there. ‘When we talked before, you said Mrs Lee wanted a bunny and Mai wanted a dog.’

  ‘I never wanted a pet again,’ admitted Josh.

  ‘But now you’re choosing a cat?’ said Mona.

  ‘Not just any cat!’ they all said. ‘It’s Buster.’

  Mona smiled. ‘Sometimes that happens,’ she said. ‘Sometimes life chooses a pet for you.’

  CHAPTER 12

  t first Buster only liked doing the things that he used to do with Mr Larsen. He liked going for a walk at the beach every afternoon, and sitting on the deck with them when they had dinner outside.

  Mrs Lee bought him a catnip mouse, and Josh made a fishing pole to dangle feathers in front of his enormous paws, but Buster just looked at the toys as if he’d never heard of play.

  He never tried to run away, but one afternoon when Josh was walking him on his leash, Buster turned to go up the street past Mr Larsen’s old house.

  ‘You don’t live there anymore,’ Josh reminded him.

  But Buster sat down on the footpath and wouldn’t move till Josh walked up the street.

  A young woman was sitting on the verandah where Mr Larsen used to sit, watching her little twins playing in a new sandpit.

  She smiled when she saw Josh and his enormous orange cat walking on a leash.

  ‘That’s the biggest cat I’ve ever seen!’ she called. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Buster,’ said Josh.

  Buster quivered, and walked on.

  That night, when Mrs Lee was making dinner, she accidentally dropped a long, curling carrot peel on the floor. Buster leapt and caught it, then threw and chased it all around the living room till he lost it behind the couch cushions. He couldn’t get his paw down the back of the couch. He mewed loudly for someone to find it for him.

  Mr and Mrs Lee, Mai and Josh all came running. Mr Lee pulled out the broken carrot peel, and Mrs Lee peeled a new one. She tossed it on the floor – and Buster leapt after it.

  When that carrot peel was too broken to throw, Josh got out the fishing-pole toy. He trailed the feather in front of Buster, and the big cat pounced. Josh flicked it high, and Buster leapt high. They played round and round the room, trailing and pouncing, flicking and leaping.

  By the time Josh’s favorite program came on, Buster had shredded the feather and torn it right off the fishing-pole string. Josh got a piece of paper and crumpled it into a tight ball. He sat down on the couch so he could watch the TV while he tied the paper ball to the end of the string.

  Buster bounded across the room and poured himself onto Josh’s lap. As he settled in, the cat began to purr. It started off as a whispery hum, but as the boy’s hands stroked the thick fur from the top of his head, down his back to the start of his tail, Buster’s purr rumbled louder and louder. After a few minutes his whole body thrummed like a fishing boat heading out to sea.

  Dear Josh,

  Thank you for your letter and pictures of Buster — and thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, for searching for him, and for your bravery in rescuing him once you found him. Asking the folks at Rainbow Street to find Buster a new home was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it makes me very happy to know he’s settled in with you.

  I’m sending you a picture too, because last week my son and his wife brought home a little dog from the animal shelter here. It’s a mostly poodle, so my son is not allergic to it.

  I didn’t think I ever wanted to get to know another animal, but this fellow didn’t give me a choice. Buster will always have his own space in my heart, but it seems there’s room for a little dog as well.

  Thank you for finding space for Buster in your heart, and your home.

  Yours truly,

  Edward Larsen

  CHAPTER 1

  he stables on the hill were shadowed and quiet in the moonlight. As the two men in dark clothes crept down the long hall, they could smell the warm scent of clean horses and fresh hay.

  ‘Go right to the end,’ the leader hissed.

  They snuck into the last stall, where Pebbles was sleeping. She was short and stocky, silvery-white with darker grey dapples across her rump. Her eyes were soft and brown in her pretty face.

  ‘That’s not a racehorse!’ the smaller thief snarled. ‘We’re in the wrong stall!’

  A tall black stallion sprang to his feet. The men heard his hooves strike the floor. They felt the rush of his powerful body, and now that their eyes were used to the darkness, they saw his shape.

  ‘That’s Midnight!’ the leader exclaimed.

  Before the stallion knew what was happening, a rope was around his neck and looped over his nose into a halter.

  The horse’s eyes rolled white with fear and rage. He jerked back and reared, his strong front legs slashing the air. The man holding the halter was thrown into the corner of the stall. He rolled out of the way just as Midnight’s hooves thudded down.

  ‘Forget it!’ the other man screamed. ‘I’m not getting killed just to steal a horse!’

  ‘Be quiet!’ said the boss thief. He opened the stall door and pushed the smaller man out to the hall.

  The stallion pawed the floor, snorting in alarm.

  The thief ignored him. He rubbed the silver mare between her ears and breathed gently into her nostrils.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said the other man. ‘That’s not the one we want!’

  ‘I’m guessing that big devil doesn’t go anywhere without his little friend. And when you’re worth as much as he is, what you want, you get.’

  The thief slipped a rope halter over Pebbles’ head too.

  CHAPTER 2

&nb
sp; llie had wanted a horse for as long as she could remember. She liked ponies, but what she really wanted was a horse. She drew horses, painted horses, collected horse books, horse ornaments and pictures, and watched horse DVDs. She wanted one so badly that sometimes she pretended that she was a horse. When she ran barefoot on the lawn, she imagined that her feet were hooves striking the ground. She practised trotting with her knees high, and cantering fast and smooth, with her left leg leading.

  Other times she pretended that her bike was a horse, even though she had to do the pedalling.

  But mostly she just imagined what it would be like to have her own horse. She would brush its big body and comb its long mane. She would look into its eyes and climb on its back, and ride it everywhere.

  ‘Ellie,’ her mum always said, ‘you know we can’t have a horse! Horses are expensive – and where would we keep it?’

  Hannah had been Ellie’s best friend since kindergarten. They did so many things together that Ellie’s dad called them the Ellie–Hannah twins, even though they didn’t look the same. Ellie’s hair was black, short and shiny, while Hannah had a thick brown ponytail that bounced when she was happy, and drooped when she was sad.

  The other difference was that even though Ellie loved horses as much as Hannah loved dogs, Hannah had her own dog now.

  Just like Ellie’s parents, Hannah’s parents always used to say there was no way they could have a dog. But when Hannah became a volunteer at the Rainbow Street Shelter and helped look after a mother dog with five new puppies, Mr and Mrs Cooper said she could keep one. So Hannah took home the brown-and-white puppy she called Peanut – and her mum adopted his shaggy white mother.

  And even though she had Peanut now, Hannah still went to the shelter every Saturday to help Mona and Bert clean out the runs and play with the dogs that were waiting for new homes. Tonight Ellie was sleeping over, so she was going to Rainbow Street in the morning too.

  In the horse float behind the truck, the tall black stallion and the silver mare stamped nervously.