Hiding in Plain Sight Read Free

him?” I thought to ask.
    â€œYep. In the hall closet, just inside the door. I put him in it when he goes to the V.E.T.” He paused andlaughed. “I guess I don’t need to spell that now, since he’s not here. He knows the word, though. I’ve gotten in the habit of spelling it out so he won’t suspect anything when he has to take a trip there.”
    Right. I suppose when you get on in years, you can start getting a bit shaky in the reality department. I smiled and nodded as though it was normal to think a cat could figure out what you were talking about. No sense hurting the old guy’s feelings.
    I stayed for a bit longer, but it was clear to me that Mr. Stanley was actually getting anxious for me to leave. I think it was because he was eager to have Ernie taken care of. I gave him a pat on the hand as I was going and told him not to worry about the cat, that I’d take good care of it.
    It’s funny how our chance encounter earlier in the summer had brought this unexpected cat-sitting job about. You just never know what kind of turns events will take and what they’ll end up meaning in your life.
    I was thinking about this as I made my way back to the apartment building. I was also thinking that it wouldn’t hurt if Mom happened to be in a really good mood when I showed up with a cat.
    We haven’t had a pet since our dog, Brownie, got hit by a car and died two years ago. I brought the subject up a couple of times, but Mom just said we’d talk about it another time — only we never did. She’s notmuch of a cat person, either. Keeping Ernie at our place isn’t going to be an easy sell.
    The only thing that might save me is that Mom is kind-natured and won’t want to think of it suffering. I’ll need to try, without
actually
lying, to make it sound like there were no other options.
    When I reached Mr. Stanley’s apartment and let myself in, Ernie came along right away, though his movements were cautious and wary. By the way he approached me I could see he was nervous but determined. I guess the little guy had been lonely. It was a relief to see that there was still a bit of dry food in his bowl, though it was pretty low. It looked like I’d gotten there just in time.
    I patted him and talked soothingly to reassure him that I wasn’t going to harm him. Then I went to fetch the carrier, so I could get him to my house before my mom got home.
    I had this vision in my head of getting there and having her standing at the doorway with her arms crossed, shaking her head side to side and telling me there was
no way
that cat was coming inside. I figured that if he was already in, my chances of persuading her to let us babysit him for a while were a lot better.
    I found the carrier in the closet, just where Mr. Stanley had said it would be. Getting Ernie into it was another story altogether, let me tell you. The second hesaw it, he let out some weird cat screech and took off, hiding behind a big armchair in the living room. I managed to shoo him out of there, but then he took off down the hall and parked himself under the bed, right in the middle where I couldn’t reach him.
    Reluctantly, I went and got the broom from the kitchen and kind of half swept and half nudged him with it until he got fed up and dashed out of the bedroom. I followed him, remembering to shut the door behind me so he couldn’t go back in there.
    I won’t add to my embarrassment by describing how Ernie tricked me repeatedly and avoided capture over the next forty minutes. Suffice it to say that I
finally
got him into the carrier, tossed some of his things into a bag, and headed home.
    After that experience, I figured handling Mom’s objections would be a piece of cake.

CHAPTER THREE
    â€œW
hat
on earth is that noise?”
    Mom’s question wasn’t the best possible start to a discussion about my having brought Ernie home. I’d kind of imagined