Free Jack on the Tracks by Jack Gantos

the rope handle. Jock gave me the thumbs-up sign and slowly hit the gas, and when the line was taut he gunned it. I thought my arms were going to be yanked clean out of their sockets as the sled jolted forward. The steering was a mystery to me and before I could master it I was heading for the bank. Luckily the bank wasn’t very steep, and somehow I went up over the bushes and was soon riding the sled down the slick, muddy road twenty yards directly behind the Impala. Jock was slowing the car down gradually, probably so I wouldn’t end up eating his tail-lights. I was screaming and hanging on for my life when the Impala hit a little dip and Miss Kitty II flew up off the roof and rolled back over the top of the wet car, off the trunk, and landed in the middle of the road.
    Oh my God, I thought. In a second I’m going to run her over with the sled and kill her.
    But Miss Kitty was quick. I came at her as fast as a rocket and she jumped up and hit me in the face. I lost my grip and flew off the back of the sled and rolled into some bushes. When I looked up, Miss Kitty II was riding the sled right down the middle of the road.
    I lurched forward and ran after them. Jock seemed to speed up for a while to give her a thrill. Finally he stopped. When I caught up to them Miss Kitty II jumped up into my arms and I gave her a big hug.
    “Good cat,” I said, and rubbed her head and ears.
    “Very fine feline,” Jock said knowingly. “She’s something special.”
    “I’ll trade you two regular cats for her,” Tack said.
    “Make it three,” Jock added, shaking his head. “That cat is talented.”
    “No way,” I replied. “Miss Kitty the Second and I are a team. I’m going to train her for the cat Olympics.”
           When I returned home I said to Betsy, “She’s a genius cat. She’s as smart as any trained dog, ever. She makes Lassie look like a yapping wig.”
    “Believe it or not,” Betsy said. “Your cat may be from China. I read in the paper that the Chinese have figured out how to breed cats and dogs together and they have come up with a superhigh-I.Q. cat.”
    “I can believe it,” I said, petting my hero.
    “You better take care of that cat,” Betsy advised me. “Once the government knows you have a Chinese hybrid they are going to take it and do what all to it in one of their secret pet laboratories.”
    “What labs?” I asked.
    “You need to read the paper more,” she said, and rolled her eyes at me. “The world is a lot bigger than this neighborhood.”
    I didn’t have time to debate the size of the world—I was going over to Tack’s house to help them decorate. I put Miss Kitty II on her dog-walking leash just in case the government came after her.
    Tack and Jock were ready to decorate both their houses. Jock had me and Miss Kitty II lie down on the sidewalk as he drew dead body profiles around us with masking tape and then made bloodstains with cherry cough syrup. Tack was arranging the Slip ‘N Slide down the front steps of one house. He had a box of ketchup packets he had collected from Burger King and scattered them on the front patio of the other house.
    Suddenly the cops pulled up and one of them slowly got out. I thought maybe he was a government agent coming to take Miss Kitty II to a lab, so I hopped up and grabbed her leash.
    “Howdy, boys,” he said, then examined the sidewalk. “Nice art work. Very realistic. But it may be wasted. You do know that Halloween is canceled?”
    “No way!” Tack hollered. “Who says?”
    “Two murderers escaped from Rayford Prison, upstate, and jumped a train,” he replied. “We had some agents board the train to flush ‘em out and we think they may have jumped off around here. So, no trick-or-treating until those guys are captured. We don’t want anyone to get spooked and shoot one of you kids.”
    “Wow,” Tack said. “Cool.”
    That’s probably what the newscaster was going to announce just before he got zapped by lightning, I