Free Edward Is Only a Fish by Alan Sincic Page B

thought about the tub, and the water in the tub, and the silent rubber plug at the bottom of the tub. A fresh red strawberry drifted across the room and into his mouth. And drifting right behind it? A bite-sized piece of strawberry shortcake. Maybe it would not be such a good idea to pull out such a calm, calm plug. Maybe it would be better, calmer and better, for the plug to stay where it belonged.

    â€œEdward! Edward!”
    That is, if it were even possible for a fish to pull out a plug.

Three
    FOURTEEN NEW FRIENDS

    Edward glided over to Mr. Billingsly’s easy chair and settled in to enjoy his lunch. It was Edward who was in charge now. It was Edward’s turn to be the boss of the house. On the floor in front of him lay Mr. B’s green and gold and purple crayons. On the wall behind him stood a long white patch of wallpaper, blank white wallpaper. The crayons seemed to be pointing up at the wall. The wall seemed to be leaning down toward the crayons. Edward seemed to be … well, there would be plenty of time for all that. The best thing about vacation was all the—
    â€œEeeedwaaaard.… Oh, Eeeedwaaaard.…”
    It was the fourteen cats in Mr. B’s hat rack.
    â€œDo you think…,” said the fat cats on top.
    â€œâ€¦ that it would be possible…,” said the medium-sized cats in the middle.
    â€œâ€¦ for you to give us a little hand?” said the skinny cats on the bottom with their tails dragging in the water. “We do not know how to swim.”
    â€œSwimming is simple,” said Edward. “You just waggle your tail.”
    â€œBut Edward,” said the fattest of the fat cats, “I do not want the water to ruin my chocolate and vanilla and butterscotch tail. Come give me a ride on your back.”
    â€œBut if I come too close, you are going to eat me.”
    â€œAbsolutely not, Edward,” said all the cats at once. “We love you, Edward. We are your friends. We would never eat you.”
    â€œBut what about the paw prints on the rim of my fishbowl? What about the claw prints on my tiny yellow lawn chair? And my umbrella—the tip of my umbrella has been nibbled away. You are always trying to eat me.”
    The water rose up to pluck the hats from the hat rack and, one by one, carry them away. The cats climbed higher.
    â€œWe just wanted to wash the honey off our claws, sweet Edward, to wash them off in the fresh clean bowl,” said the skinny cats. They smiled and blinked their eyes.
    â€œWe just wanted to cool our paws, dear Edward, to cool them off in the clean cool water,” said the medium-sized cats. They licked their lips and purred a little tune.
    â€œWe just wanted to dip our tongues, kind Edward, to dip our tongues in the bright blue water,” said the fat cats as they stepped up onto the heads of the skinny cats, as they climbed still higher to the ceiling. “It was the water that we wanted, Edward, it was the water.”
    â€œSo you want to be friends with me? With a fish?”
    â€œEspecially with you, Edward,” said the cats as they polished their teeth with the backs of their paws. “We like fish very much. We have always liked fish.”
    â€œAnd I am the boss of the house?”
    â€œAbsolutely. You are the boss of the house.”
    â€œVery well, then.”
    Edward gathered up all the hats that were still afloat and put them in a line. Then, very gently so that they would not tip over, he tied them together with the drawstring from Mr. B’s red leather Stetson.
    The water bubbled higher. The cats squeezed together at the top of the rack like a stack of flapjacks stuck together at the end of a fork.
    â€œAll aboard!” cried Edward as he pulled his line of hat boats, his line of flat boats, his fancy line of cat boats into place alongside the rack.

    The cats scratched and pushed and clawed their way into the bowlers and the boaters and the trenchers, the