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Authors: Patricia Reilly Giff
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when the librarian reached for it.
It was so hard to let it go. It was almost as if I’d sat in the library at home in Jales. But after I handed it to him, I watched to see where he put it. I wanted to be able to find it again.
We walked back to the classroom, and all the while I was thinking.
Suddenly I knew what Wild Girl needed.
A cat. A friend.
And I knew just where to find one.
I could imagine Wild Girl changing, becoming feisty, happy. Just as exciting, I thought of what Pai would say when he saw what had happened.
I hugged the thought of it to myself for the rest of the school day. A cat, of course. It was so easy, so perfect, I couldn’t stop smiling.
20
THE STALL
The sun beamed through the window over the filly’s head
.
She ate the warm mash from her pail, raising one hoof and then the other. Then she poked her head over the half door of her stall …
And waited
.
Would the creature come again? The one with the thick mane of hair, the one who weighed almost nothing on her back?
The filly’s ears pricked forward, listening for the sound of those quick footsteps
.
Waited
.
21
THE FARM
I sat on the floor in my room, my head back against the wall, trying to keep my eyes open. I had to be sure Pai and Rafael were asleep. Bringing the cat to Wild Girl had to be a surprise.
I thought I’d never hear them come upstairs. We’d all sat in the kitchen, talking until long after bedtime about Rafael’s first race and how Doce would run. I’d finally said goodnight, trying to give them the idea it was time to sleep.
When everything was quiet at last, I slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed down the hall. I stopped at the small lighted lamp on the table to look at the painting of the horse and jockey. I rubbed my bare foot against my leg, pretending I was the jockey racing my horse to the finish line. I thoughtagain of Rafael’s first race tomorrow, how hard he was working. He was out on the exercise track every chance he had.
Downstairs, I rummaged through the cabinets, trying to decide what a cat might like for a midnight snack. Titia Luisa would have thought it was a terrible kitchen. There wasn’t enough food to keep a family of mice alive.
I remembered there was a little leftover fish from dinner in the refrigerator. It was dry and chewy; Rafael had cooked it to leather. I didn’t think the cat would complain, though.
I scooped up the fish plate and a few mushy vegetables, grabbed my jacket off the hook, my striped boots from the floor underneath, and went out the back door.
The lights threw misty beams across the barn roof and over the exercise track. How beautiful it was at night! I looked back at the windows; inside, there was just the faintest light from that hall lamp, but the outside walls, the door, and the steps were sharp and clear.
I took a breath. “Here, kitty,” I called, trying to keep my voice down.
The cat was nowhere to be seen. But the other day I had watched her go over the fence and into the small grove of trees out back. I crossed the track and opened the back gate. Under the outline of branches it was dark. Really dark. The ground was as mushy as the cooked vegetables; there was a thick layer of damp leaves from last year.
I’m not afraid
, I told myself.
I’m wild as a cat, wild as anything that could be creeping around
. I moved from one tree to the next, waving the plate with the fish in the air.
“Where are you?” I called. “Where have you gotten yourself?”
“I’m right here,” a voice said in my own Portuguese.
I dropped the fish and jumped back, banging into a tree trunk. A woman stood there in the dark, a big woman. Her hair was caught up in a mess of a topknot on her head, her hands on her hips.
The light was too dim for me to see her face, but her voice was loud. “What are you doing?” she said. Was her voice angry? Surprised?
No more surprised than I was.
I turned and scrambled through the gate, realizing that my lovely boot had come off
It was so hard to let it go. It was almost as if I’d sat in the library at home in Jales. But after I handed it to him, I watched to see where he put it. I wanted to be able to find it again.
We walked back to the classroom, and all the while I was thinking.
Suddenly I knew what Wild Girl needed.
A cat. A friend.
And I knew just where to find one.
I could imagine Wild Girl changing, becoming feisty, happy. Just as exciting, I thought of what Pai would say when he saw what had happened.
I hugged the thought of it to myself for the rest of the school day. A cat, of course. It was so easy, so perfect, I couldn’t stop smiling.
20
THE STALL
The sun beamed through the window over the filly’s head
.
She ate the warm mash from her pail, raising one hoof and then the other. Then she poked her head over the half door of her stall …
And waited
.
Would the creature come again? The one with the thick mane of hair, the one who weighed almost nothing on her back?
The filly’s ears pricked forward, listening for the sound of those quick footsteps
.
Waited
.
21
THE FARM
I sat on the floor in my room, my head back against the wall, trying to keep my eyes open. I had to be sure Pai and Rafael were asleep. Bringing the cat to Wild Girl had to be a surprise.
I thought I’d never hear them come upstairs. We’d all sat in the kitchen, talking until long after bedtime about Rafael’s first race and how Doce would run. I’d finally said goodnight, trying to give them the idea it was time to sleep.
When everything was quiet at last, I slipped out of the bedroom and tiptoed down the hall. I stopped at the small lighted lamp on the table to look at the painting of the horse and jockey. I rubbed my bare foot against my leg, pretending I was the jockey racing my horse to the finish line. I thoughtagain of Rafael’s first race tomorrow, how hard he was working. He was out on the exercise track every chance he had.
Downstairs, I rummaged through the cabinets, trying to decide what a cat might like for a midnight snack. Titia Luisa would have thought it was a terrible kitchen. There wasn’t enough food to keep a family of mice alive.
I remembered there was a little leftover fish from dinner in the refrigerator. It was dry and chewy; Rafael had cooked it to leather. I didn’t think the cat would complain, though.
I scooped up the fish plate and a few mushy vegetables, grabbed my jacket off the hook, my striped boots from the floor underneath, and went out the back door.
The lights threw misty beams across the barn roof and over the exercise track. How beautiful it was at night! I looked back at the windows; inside, there was just the faintest light from that hall lamp, but the outside walls, the door, and the steps were sharp and clear.
I took a breath. “Here, kitty,” I called, trying to keep my voice down.
The cat was nowhere to be seen. But the other day I had watched her go over the fence and into the small grove of trees out back. I crossed the track and opened the back gate. Under the outline of branches it was dark. Really dark. The ground was as mushy as the cooked vegetables; there was a thick layer of damp leaves from last year.
I’m not afraid
, I told myself.
I’m wild as a cat, wild as anything that could be creeping around
. I moved from one tree to the next, waving the plate with the fish in the air.
“Where are you?” I called. “Where have you gotten yourself?”
“I’m right here,” a voice said in my own Portuguese.
I dropped the fish and jumped back, banging into a tree trunk. A woman stood there in the dark, a big woman. Her hair was caught up in a mess of a topknot on her head, her hands on her hips.
The light was too dim for me to see her face, but her voice was loud. “What are you doing?” she said. Was her voice angry? Surprised?
No more surprised than I was.
I turned and scrambled through the gate, realizing that my lovely boot had come off
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