Read Online Kat's Fall by Shelley Hrdlitschka - Free Book Online
Authors: Shelley Hrdlitschka
Ads: Link
soon.”
“The timing isn’t perfect, I know,” he says. “It’s just the way it worked out. And besides,” he adds, “maybe the dog will help Kat make the transition better.
Eileen turns to face Kat and Star again. “Hi, Star,” she says.
Star’s tail thumps on the floor but she doesn’t leave Kat’s side.
“Come, Star,” she signs.
With an anxious look at the sobbing Kat, Star pads across the floor to Eileen’s side. “Good girl,” she says. She strokes the dog and talks quietly to her. Eventually she speaks to Dad again. “I can see that Star has adapted well to Kat,” she says. “I’ll leave her, if you like, and we’ll just keep our fingers crossed that the move to Kat’s mom’s goes smoothly. I won’t finalize the adoption until we see how it works out.”
Dad nods. “Thank you. I’m sure everything will work out fine, but that’s probably a good plan.”
Eileen signs to Kat. “Would you like to keep her a little longer?” she asks.
Kat nods and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “How long?”
“We’re not sure yet. But for a while.”
Kat jumps up and scampers across the room to hug Eileen. Then she hugs Star again. Star’s tail thumps and she barks once.
That ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach has returned and I have to leave the room. I’m sure Kat doesn’t even notice.
Six
S tar’s arrival has wreaked havoc with our perfectly ordered routine. Now that Kat has to walk and feed her in the morning, she no longer has time to make me breakfast or pack me a lunch. In the commotion this morning, Kat almost forgot to take her medication—despite reminders from me—and she became a blubbering idiot when it was time to say goodbye to the dog and get on the bus.
I am all but forgotten.
To make matters worse, the front page of today’s paper features Mom’s release from prison. Dad was right. In the picture, the gathered mob looks angry, and Mom looks scared to death. Serves her right.
Turning the page I find myself staring into my own eyes. Talk about a vacant expression. Beside me in the picture is my father, his phony-ass arm draped across my shoulder, and Kat is leaning against me on the other side. The story doesn’t say much, except for some drivel about how forgiving and gracious we all are about Mom’s release. No doubt they’d been hoping to run a scandalous story featuring an over-protective, loving father and his fearful, distrusting children, all of whom are appalled that the mother is being given parole. I bet we were a big disappointment. Maybe I should have spoken up. Exposing some of our secrets might have put us on the front page, right there beside Mom. As it is, Ms. Wetzell’s fireworks seem to be fizzling out.
Just as I’m about to leave—lunchless—I notice Star and her sad brown eyes staring at me from the doorway to Kat’s bedroom. I have to be careful. This is one cagey dog. She figures if she’s patient long enough, and good enough, and pretty enough, I’ll eventually give in and love her. I can’t let that happen. I turn and go out the door without a word.
Unfortunately, I have to come home and collect her after school. Kat has permission from Mrs. K to bring her baby-sitting with us, and it’s up to me to come home and fetch her before heading over there.
She greets me warily, tail wagging, but not too enthusiastically. I put on her leash and we begin the six-block walk.
It is an unnerving experience.
Complete strangers feel that having a pretty dog at your side is an open invitation for interaction, to pat it and to tell you all about their dog or their neighbor’s dog or their great aunt’s dog. Kids are the worst. They’re all over Star, mauling her and asking me dumb questions. What kind of dog is she? How old is she? Is she a girl dog or a boy dog?
I’m beginning to think I may never get to Sammy’s. Then, just when I’ve unraveled myself from the last one and Sammy’s driveway is almost in sight, a car
“The timing isn’t perfect, I know,” he says. “It’s just the way it worked out. And besides,” he adds, “maybe the dog will help Kat make the transition better.
Eileen turns to face Kat and Star again. “Hi, Star,” she says.
Star’s tail thumps on the floor but she doesn’t leave Kat’s side.
“Come, Star,” she signs.
With an anxious look at the sobbing Kat, Star pads across the floor to Eileen’s side. “Good girl,” she says. She strokes the dog and talks quietly to her. Eventually she speaks to Dad again. “I can see that Star has adapted well to Kat,” she says. “I’ll leave her, if you like, and we’ll just keep our fingers crossed that the move to Kat’s mom’s goes smoothly. I won’t finalize the adoption until we see how it works out.”
Dad nods. “Thank you. I’m sure everything will work out fine, but that’s probably a good plan.”
Eileen signs to Kat. “Would you like to keep her a little longer?” she asks.
Kat nods and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “How long?”
“We’re not sure yet. But for a while.”
Kat jumps up and scampers across the room to hug Eileen. Then she hugs Star again. Star’s tail thumps and she barks once.
That ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach has returned and I have to leave the room. I’m sure Kat doesn’t even notice.
Six
S tar’s arrival has wreaked havoc with our perfectly ordered routine. Now that Kat has to walk and feed her in the morning, she no longer has time to make me breakfast or pack me a lunch. In the commotion this morning, Kat almost forgot to take her medication—despite reminders from me—and she became a blubbering idiot when it was time to say goodbye to the dog and get on the bus.
I am all but forgotten.
To make matters worse, the front page of today’s paper features Mom’s release from prison. Dad was right. In the picture, the gathered mob looks angry, and Mom looks scared to death. Serves her right.
Turning the page I find myself staring into my own eyes. Talk about a vacant expression. Beside me in the picture is my father, his phony-ass arm draped across my shoulder, and Kat is leaning against me on the other side. The story doesn’t say much, except for some drivel about how forgiving and gracious we all are about Mom’s release. No doubt they’d been hoping to run a scandalous story featuring an over-protective, loving father and his fearful, distrusting children, all of whom are appalled that the mother is being given parole. I bet we were a big disappointment. Maybe I should have spoken up. Exposing some of our secrets might have put us on the front page, right there beside Mom. As it is, Ms. Wetzell’s fireworks seem to be fizzling out.
Just as I’m about to leave—lunchless—I notice Star and her sad brown eyes staring at me from the doorway to Kat’s bedroom. I have to be careful. This is one cagey dog. She figures if she’s patient long enough, and good enough, and pretty enough, I’ll eventually give in and love her. I can’t let that happen. I turn and go out the door without a word.
Unfortunately, I have to come home and collect her after school. Kat has permission from Mrs. K to bring her baby-sitting with us, and it’s up to me to come home and fetch her before heading over there.
She greets me warily, tail wagging, but not too enthusiastically. I put on her leash and we begin the six-block walk.
It is an unnerving experience.
Complete strangers feel that having a pretty dog at your side is an open invitation for interaction, to pat it and to tell you all about their dog or their neighbor’s dog or their great aunt’s dog. Kids are the worst. They’re all over Star, mauling her and asking me dumb questions. What kind of dog is she? How old is she? Is she a girl dog or a boy dog?
I’m beginning to think I may never get to Sammy’s. Then, just when I’ve unraveled myself from the last one and Sammy’s driveway is almost in sight, a car
Similar Books
