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for the others. I remembered how nervous I’d been the first time I came to the junkyard with Simon. It seemed so long ago, but really it had only been less than two months. I had been visiting the cats so much since then, it seemed longer than that. Mr. Singh had joked that he should either start charging me rent or paying me a wage as a security guard. And in some ways I did feel like a security guard. Not for the yard, but for my cats. My cats—they did feel like mine. I didn’t own them, but I felt responsible for them.
    â€œDo I smell chicken?” Mr. Singh asked.
    â€œYou have a very good nose,” I said.
    â€œNot as good as the cats. I have read that cats can smell twenty times as well as humans, so I am sure they already know you are here.”
    Mr. Singh stood back, letting me lead the way. I was sure he was doing it so I could be the leader with my friends.
    We approached the cat colony.
    â€œLet Taylor go first,” Simon said.
    â€œYeah, he should,” Jaime agreed. “You’ll see why.”
    The others stopped, and I kept walking. It was better if it was only me at first. I entered the center of the colony, or as I’d started calling it, the Town Square. There were already more than a dozen cats waiting. I was expecting them to be there, and they were expecting me.
    I recognized many of them. Kittens and mothers, teenagers, full-grown tabbies and toms, and, of course, sitting on his throne—a blue Buick—in the very middle was King.
    I walked slowly, trying to be graceful like a cat. My feet skimmed slightly above the ground as I tried to keep my footfalls soft and quiet—at least quiet to human ears, but probably loud to them. I looked around without gazing directly at any specific cat. They didn’t like to be stared at, especially if they were looking directly at me.
    The cats allowed me to enter their kingdom. None of them ran from me. I edged forward even slower, an inch or two at a time.
    A rock—a big gray rock that shone against the sea of crushed red brick chips—marked the closest I’d ever been. Each day I’d been able to move it forward another inch or two. I put my toe against it and nudged it forward. I was closer to them than ever before. It was a new world record for Catboy! Perhaps I had developed the superpower to be temporarily invisible. Invisibility and a potato peeler would be a great combination!
    Then I whistled. It was neither melodic nor loud, but it was enough for them to hear, and it was familiar to the cats. Their ears perked up, and more cats came out of the wrecks and into view. Many of them I recognized. I knew them by their appearance, but I also knew their behaviors and personalities. I scanned the crowd looking for my favorites.
    â€œThat’s amazing,” I heard Mohammad say behind me.
    â€œIt’s like they know him,” Devon said.
    â€œThey do know him,” Simon said. “Can we come closer now?”
    â€œHang on,” I said.
    I slowly removed my pack. The sound of the zipper opening caused the cats to freeze.
    I removed the box of chicken pieces and opened it. The smell was strong, even to me.
    I tossed the first piece, the biggest piece of meat, to King. He pounced on it. It wasn’t that I thought he deserved it, or that I wanted to give it to him, but if I didn’t, he would chase away and swat at the cat that got the first piece. He didn’t care if it was another tomcat or a mother cat or even a kitten. Getting between him and whatever he wanted wasn’t wise. I really didn’t like him.
    I scattered bones, buns and pieces of meat on the ground for the others, and they started eating.
    â€œYou can come now,” I said. “Just be slow and quiet.”
    Everybody had saved bits of their lunches, and the cats were soon treated to an international feast. It was obvious the cats were enjoying the meal almost as much as we were enjoying feeding