Free One-Eyed Cat by Paula Fox Page A

he never felt so safe as he did, sitting with his mother and father, during such a storm, listening to his father count the seconds between the claps of thunder, hearing his mother recall other storms and how wild they had been.
    â€œPity the poor creatures outdoors on a night like this,” said Mrs. Scallop. “I can’t help thinking about them … not lucky like us with shelter, a roof over our heads.”
    â€œQuite right, Mrs. Scallop,” Papa said absently.
    But Mama said, “I don’t know that I’d agree with you, Mrs. Scallop. I imagine it could be wonderful to be out on such a night, right in the middle of all that noise and rain, not crouching inside a stuffy room like scared mice.”
    Mrs. Scallop made no reply. Ned saw her cast a glance at his mother then look down at the scraps of cloth in her lap, which she was braiding together. She didn’t seem to need light for the work she did.
    For once, Ned was on her side. It wouldn’t be wonderful to be outdoors if you’d lost your balance, and couldn’t see.
    It wouldn’t be wonderful, he thought, to be out in a storm if you were a one-eyed cat.

IV
    The Cat
    The storm swept away the last of the summer. Within a week of it, the tawny meadow grasses had grown dun colored and the trees stood black and bare as bones against the blue sky. One morning it was so chilly, the children could see their breaths, ghostly vapor that disappeared almost at once, and that made Evelyn laugh and cry out, “Look! Look, when I breathe!”
    When Janet emerged from her path to join the others on their way to school, she announced that her cat had had kittens. “Their tiny eyes are closed and they could fit right inside your hand except you can’t hold them yet, and they’re so sweet!” she said.
    Billy let out a whoop. “Itty-bitty kitty!” he bellowed, and smacked one hand against the other, then made two guns with his index fingers. “Boom! Boom! That’s what I’d do to itty-bitty kitties!” he shouted.
    â€œOne has a patch over her eye,” Janet said. “Just like a little pirate. That’s what I’m calling her—Pirate.”
    â€œYou can’t call a she-cat Pirate,” scoffed Billy. Janet completely ignored him.
    â€œDo you know the woods are full of wild cats?” Ned asked.
    â€œI wouldn’t be surprised,” Evelyn said, absently pulling at a piece of wool in her thick brown sweater.
    â€œYou’ll unravel yourself,” Janet warned her.
    Evelyn’s shoes were caked with dried mud and the hem was out of her dress. Janet was as neat as a new pine cone, but Evelyn looked like she was about to fall apart. They liked each other a good deal, Ned knew, and they often had peculiar dreamy conversations with each other that made no sense at all. Usually, Ned liked to listen to them, but since the night of the big storm the only subject which held interest for him was cats.
    â€œYou mean—you wouldn’t be surprised because you’ve seen one?” he asked Evelyn.
    â€œSix kittens,” Janet said, “one right after the other. I saw them being born.”
    â€œUgh!” exclaimed Evelyn.
    â€œIf I saw a wild cat, I’d chase it until I treed it,” cried Billy. “Then I’d get a stick or something, or a stone, and I’d go— bang !”
    â€œDid you? Did you see one?” asked Ned.
    â€œI think I did,” Evelyn said, picking a tiny fragment of eggshell out of her hair. “Now look at that!” she exclaimed. “I wonder where it ever came from.”
    â€œThe cat,” Ned reminded her. “Tell me about the cat.”
    â€œAt nightfall,” she said. “Probably after a chicken. I didn’t pay much attention. I saw old Sport run right out to the end of his chain like a fish trying to get off the hook, and he was barking and I thought I saw a cat. But it could’ve been