Picture Dictionary & Books : Free for English Learner!

I walk along, cussing and fuming and kicking pebbles.

I come to an air-conditioned movie and go up to the window.

The phony blonde in the booth looks at me and sneers, "You're not sixteen. We don't have a children's section in this theater." She doesn't even ask.

She just says it. It's a great world. I go home.

There's no one there but Cat, so I turn the record player up full blast.

Pop comes home in one of his unexpected fits of generosity that night and takes us to the movies.

Cat behaves himself and stays around home and our cellar for a while, so I stop worrying.

But it doesn't last long.

As soon as his claw heals, he starts sashaying off again.

One night I hear cats yowling out back and I go out with a bucket of water and douse them and bring Cat in.

There's a pretty little tiger cat, hardly more than a kitten, sitting on the fence licking herself, dry and unconcerned.

Cat doesn't speak to me for a couple of days.

One morning Butch, the janitor, comes up and knocks on our door.

"You better come down and look at your cat. He got himself mighty chewed up. Most near dead."

I hurry down, and there is Cat sprawled in a corner on the cool cement floor.

His mouth is half open, and his breath comes in wheezes, like he has asthma.

I don't know whether to pick him up or not.

Butch says, "Best let him lie."

I sit down beside him.

After a bit his breath comes easier and he puts his head down.

Then I see he's got a long, deep claw gouge going from his shoulder down one leg.

It's half an inch open, and anyone can see it won't heal by itself.

Butch shakes his head.

"You gotta take him to the veteran, sure. That's the cat doctor."

"Yeah," I say, not correcting him.