Free Homeless by Laurie Halse Anderson Page B

whisper.
    “She started having the kittens yesterday,” Jamie says. “I think it’s taking too long. She doesn’t look good. Can you come look? Please.”
    I look back at the crowd.
    The police officer is talking to Dr. Mac. The crowd seems a little calmer now, but some people are still frowning. The television crew is pointing its cameras at the crowd.
    If I interrupt Dr. Mac, everyone will notice and someone might recognize me as the girl from the newspaper story.
    “All right, here’s what we’ll do,” I say. “Take me to Mittens. First, I’ll see how she’s doing, then you two go back inside your house and wait. Where is she?”
    “Follow me!” Jamie says.
    Keeping one eye on the crowd, we quickly cross the railroad tracks and dash across the clearing.
    “She’s under there,” Jamie says, pointing under the boxcar.
    I crouch down to see. Jamie and Katie kneel next to me. Mittens is under the boxcar, right at the front edge. There is one kitten on the ground near her, but it’s dead. I shudder.
    “Stay back, Katie,” I say. I don’t want her to see this. It’s kind of gross and scary.
    Mittens is pushing hard, trying to make the next kitten come out. She meows in pain. I can’t tell what’s wrong, but I know we should get her to the clinic.
    “OK, listen to me,” I tell Jamie. “I want you to take Katie home. There’s no use getting you in trouble for this. I’m going to get Dr. Mac. Mittens needs to go to the clinic right now.”
    Jamie nods. “Can’t you just pick her up and carry her?” he whispers.
    Katie pokes me in the back. I ignore her—I’m too worried about Mittens.
    “I’m afraid I might hurt her,” I say. “We don’t know what’s going on. I’ve never seen a cat have kittens before.”
    Katie pokes again. “Su-Sunita,” she says anxiously.
    I turn around to find a raccoon trapping us against the boxcar. “Look out!” I cry.
    The raccoon’s teeth are bared, and saliva drips from its mouth. My heart starts to pound. Raccoons are nocturnal animals. They rarely come out in the day unless . . . they have rabies.

Chapter Thirteen
    M ommy!” Katie screams.
    The crowd around Gary’s truck stops yelling and arguing, and turns to look across the tracks at us.
    “Stay back,” I tell Katie and Jamie. I grab their shirts and pull them behind me.
    Mrs. Frazier starts to run toward us, but two men stop her. “Let me go!” she screams. “Jamie! Katie!”
    “Everyone, stay where you are,” the police officer orders, walking slowly toward the rail bed. He puts his hand on his gun. “I won’t fire until I have a clear shot.”
    The raccoon steps closer and glares at me with poisonous yellow eyes. This is what full-blown rabies looks like. The disease has infected the raccoon’s brain, and it’s not afraid of anything. All it wants to do is attack—attack us!
    Jamie struggles to break free.
    “Don’t move,” I tell him.
    “We have to get away!” he says in a panicked voice.
    “No,” I say firmly. “The raccoon is too close. If we try to run, it’ll catch us. Don’t move.”
    “We can’t stay here!” Jamie says.
    “I’m scared,” Katie cries.
    The train whistle blows in the distance. In a minute it’s going to cut us off from our escape route. I have to think of something—fast.
    “Shhh, it will be OK,” I say, sounding more confident than I feel. I reach behind me to the open door to the boxcar and fumble around for something—anything—I can use to protect us. My fingers close around small bits of something. Gravel? Cat food! Maybe I can throw it at the raccoon, then we can run.
    I slowly bring my hand around.
    Underneath the boxcar, Mittens meows in pain. The raccoon’s eyes dart around, then stop. He sees her lying just behind my ankles. He takes another step toward us.
    Just then, the long train to Philadelphia roars past. Dust is swirling everywhere. I squint and blink my eyes. I can’t see the grown-ups on the other side of the tracks. They