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I stick my head out the window to see if things are moving.

Something furry tickles my ear, and it takes me a second to register.

Then I grab, but too late.

There is Cat, out on the parkway between the lanes of cars, trying to figure which way to run.

"Pop!" I yell.

"Hold it! Cat's got out!"

You know what my pop does? He laughs.

"Hold it, my eyeball!" he says.

"I've been holding it for half an hour. I'd get murdered if I tried to stop now. Besides, I don't want to chase that cat every day of my vacation."

I don't even stop to think.

I just open the car door and jump.

The car's only barely moving.

I can see Cat on the grass at the edge of the parkway.

The cars in the next lane blast their horns, but I slip through and grab Cat.

I hear Mom scream, "Davey!"

Our car is twenty feet ahead, now, in the center lane, and there's no way Pop can turn off.

The cars are picking up speed.

I holler to Mom as loud as I can, "I'll go back and stay with Kate! Don't worry!"

I hear Pop shout about something, but I can't hear what.

Pretty soon the car is out of sight.

I look down at Cat and say, "There goes our vacation."

I wonder if I'll be able to catch a bus out to Connecticut later.

Meanwhile, there's the little problem of getting back into the city.

I'm standing alongside the parkway, with railroad tracks and the Pelham golf course on the other side of me, and a good long walk to the subway.

A cat isn't handy to walk with.