It wasn’t bad luck. I didn’t just walk under the ladder.
Mrs. Lovejoy shook her head and tried to push past me, but I stopped her.
“I’ll find the kitten and bring your ladder back. You head on home.”
She leveled me with that mom glare again but nodded, making her white hair bounce and another curler drop to the ground. I picked it up and handed it to her, and she reached into her robe pocket, pulling out a handful of something squishy.
“You’re a good boy, Mark. Here. Use this. I’ll be checking up on you tomorrow.”
She held out her hand and passed me the slimy mess she had in her robe.
Gross.
It was ground hamburger meat, and I looked behind her and saw the globs she had dropped, hoping to attract the kitten.
Great.
The only thing I’d attract with a handful of raw meat was a rogue raccoon,I thought, as I watched her totter off muttering about buying more ground beef.
At least her intentions were good. It was bad enough she had two little sugar gliders and a pot-bellied pig named Pepper that constantly escaped her backyard.
The neighborhood started a Facebook Group calledWhere’s Pepperso we would at least know where that damn pig was. Pepper was particularly fond of Ms. Petunia’s cucumbers down the street and usually ended up there. Maybe I should start a petition to have a Hawaiian Luau complete with a pig-on-a-spit if Pepper ever reached a hundred pounds.
Nah.The pig was a menace, but I wasn’t that heartless. I couldn’t imagine her with a kitten, a pig, and those sugar gliders. I laid the ladder on the side of the road and moved through the brush, looking for the kitten. I thought about leaving, but what if Mrs. Lovejoy was right? If there was a kitten somewhere around here, it wouldn’t last long. Briarwood had fox sightings at least once a week.
The prickly bushes scratched my arms and got caught on my pants as I pushed and trudged along. After ten minutes, I had to turn on my Mag-lite, and after twenty, my hands were bleeding. I hated giving up, but my eyes were gritty, and I was dead on my feet.
What sane person would go stumbling through the brush smelling like raw meat when there was a perfectly comfortable bed one street over?
I put my Mag-lite back in my utility belt and made my way back to my SUV. I slammed the door and grabbed sanitizer, slathering it over my hands to get rid of the meat smell. The Ford started with a growl, and I radioed back that all was well with Loony before pulling back on the road.
I’d barely made it thirty feet before a black flash ran in front of the vehicle. Slamming on the breaks, I lurched forward and hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand.
What the hell?
I’d seen enough car accidents to get nervous when anything ran out in front of me, even if this thing was the size of a freaking tangerine. I mashed the button to turn on my flashers, and my hand went back to my pendant before I stepped out, keeping my headlights on to see what I’d almost hit.
There wasn’t anything in front of my car, so I did a full circle around before getting on my hands and knees and shining my light underneath. On my second sweep, the light caught tiny blue eyes and jet-black fur. This little pipsqueak of a kitten was pressed against my left rear tire, its eyes tracking my movements.
Laying down on my stomach and scooting under my vehicle as best I could—the baby let out a pathetic squeak. Scooping it up and sliding out, I cradled it against my stomach.
I found the kitten, but what the hell do I do with it?
My palm opened, and my eyes found the kitten’s. It stared back, unblinking. It was small and dirty, with big blue eyes and one bent ear. I couldn’t take it home, and no shelters were open past five. It didn’t look like it would make it overnight without help, but there was no way this devil was going to Loony either. She’d try to dress it in a tutu and make it ride Pepper before feeding it raw meat.
I wracked my brain for what to do when I remembered my buddy’s vet clinic where he took his daughter’s guinea pig. Deciding to start there, I grabbed a hoodie from the back seat and set the kitten in the hoodie. It made a squeak and burrowed deeper, wobbling around in a circle on skinny legs before falling to its side.
I pulled back on the highway and drove five under the speed limit while glancing at the cargo. This vet better still be open. There was no way I knew what to do with a kitten, especially a freaking black kitten. First, almost walking underneath a ladder, and now a black kitten most definitely crossing my path—it was too much.
I’d been superstitious since first hearing the rhyme about stepping on cracks. Even if I wasn’t, having all those omens in one day would make me believe. My hoodie wasn’t moving, so I nudged it with my finger at the next red light. It wiggled, and those two blue eyes peered back at me. Thank goodness. I couldn’t imagine the number of amulets I’d have to wear to get rid of that bad juju.
I cracked my neck and gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to swerve around the cars that were all doing the speed limit. My body felt itchy, like for every moment I had this thing in my squad car, the longer my bad luck would last. I stole a glance over again, and it was still staring at me, unblinking.
AMCwas coming up on my left, so I slowed down and automatically put my hand out to protect the demon spawn. It followed my hand without moving its head, and I swear the eyes changed from blue to red for a split second.
Creepy.
The lights were off at the clinic, but I pulled in, driving around to the back on the off chance someone was still inside.
