“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he said. “But you’re right—you probably shouldn’t tell anyone else.”
Hannah’s gaze dropped, and he felt bad. Like maybe he should tell her about the dreams and how he admitted it to Gran, and what happened next.
Did they know what happened? His grandmother always said Cainsville was a “backwater nowhere” town, where they acted as if they weren’t sixty miles from one of the biggest cities in America. Gran said they were ignorant, and they liked it that way. They didn’t read newspapers, didn’t listen to the news or even watch it on television. That wasn’t true. He’d once told Mrs. Yates about going to the site of the World’s Fair, and she’d known all about it. She’d told him stories about the fair, the sights and sounds and even the smells. He’d gotten an A on his paper and his teacher said it was almost like he’d been there. He’d asked Mrs. Yates ifshe’dbeen there, and she’d laughed and said she wasn’tthatold. No one was. So people in Cainsville weren’t ignorant, but he supposed that knowing about the 1893 World’s Fair wasn’t the same as knowing what his teacher called “current events.”
“You shouldn’t telleveryone,” Rose said to Hannah. “Definitely not anyone outside Cainsville. But no one here will think you’re crazy.” She nudged Hannah with her sneaker. “Tell him about the black kitten.”
Hannah took more prodding, but when Bobby expressed an interest, she finally stood and said, “He’s sick. Momma Cat is worried he’s going to die. He doesn’t get enough to eat because he’s smaller than the others.”
“He’s not that much smaller.”
“He’s different,” Rose said. “That’s why they won’t let him eat very much. I think he’s a matagot. That’s what we were talking about when you came up.”
“A matagot?”
“Magician’s cat,” Rose said, as matter-of-factly as if she’d said the cat was a Siamese. “It’s a spirit that’s taken the form of a black cat.”
“They say that if you keep one and treat it well, it will reward you with a gold piece every day,” Hannah said.
“Gold?” he said.
Something in his tone made Rose tense—or maybe it was the way he looked at the black kitten. Hannah only giggled.
“It’s not true, silly,” Hannah said. “Magic doesn’t work that way. Not real magic.”
“What do you know about real magic?”
She shrugged. “Enough. I know it can make gargoyles disappear in daylight and tomato plants grow straight and true. I know it can let some people read omens—like old Mrs. Carew—and some see the future, like Rose’s Nana Walsh.”
He turned to Rose. “Your grandmother can see the future?”
“Futures,” she said. “There’s more than one. It’s all about choices.”
He didn’t understand that but pushed on. “If I asked her to see my futures?—”
“You can’t,” Hannah cut in. “Not unless you can talk to ghosts. I’m not sure anyone can talk to ghosts. If there are ghosts.” She turned to Rose, as if she was the older, wiser girl.
“There are,” Rose said. “Those with the sight sometimes say they see them. Others can, too. But most times when a person says they’re seeing ghosts it’s their imagination. Even if you can talk to them I’m not sure why you’d want to.”
Hannah nodded, and his gaze shot from one girl to the other, unable to believe they were talking about such things seriously. Kids at school would call them babies for believing in magic. His parents would call it ungodly. His grandmother would probably call them changelings.
“About the cat. The…matagot.” He stumbled over the foreign word.
“We don’t know if it is one,” Rose said. “Hannah says his mother thinks he’s strange. She still loves him, though.”
“As she should,” Hannah said. “There’s nothing wrong with strange.”
Rose nodded. “But we’re worried.”
“Very worried.” Hannah knelt beside the box where the mother cat was licking the black kitten’s head. “Momma Cat is even more worried. Aren’t you?”
The catmrrowed deep in its throat and looked up at Hannah. Then she nosed the kitten away from her side.
“I think she’s going to drive it off,” Bobby said. “They do that sometimes. With the weak, the ones that are different.”
Hannah shook her head, curls bouncing. “No, she’s asking me to take it.”
“You should,” Rose said. “Your parents would let you.”
