Page 9 - Anywhere but Paradise

“Time to pick up your mother from the beauty par-
lor,” says Daddy way too soon.

“That cat’s got some pounds on him,” says the
officer as we step out of Howdy’s cage. “He’ll probably
lose a few. Most do. At least the ones that make it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
I look into Tinkerbell’s pen. That’s when I notice.

No bowl of water. No bowl of food. No pan of litter.
No small white card on the cage.
“Y’all were supposed to take care of her,” I cry.

I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that will block out
the truth. Tinkerbell was leaving four weeks before
Howdy.
“We did our best,” says the officer.
I open my eyes and pull away from the cage.

Poor Tink. I am sure she died of a broken heart.
“Oh, Howdy,” I say. “You’ve got to be strong.”
I trudge out of the building after Daddy, my insides

tight and twisty. The waterfront just across the way
mirrors the dark gray sky.

• q •

On the drive back over the Pali Highway, I close my
eyes and count.

53