When
Lewis went in to barter for the guitar, the music store owner wouldn’t budge.
He told him in no uncertain terms that the price was a non-negotiable: $350.
This was a disappointment to Lewis, as he barely had $240 and had no means – at
least in the foreseeable future – of coming up with any more. He was too young
to get a proper job. His little brother had all of the mowing gigs in the
neighborhood locked up and was raking in a small fortune. So there weren’t a
whole lot of options for a 14 year old in a suburb like his.
Feeling
a bit dejected, but nonetheless undeterred, he set out to walk back home. He’d
heard his teacher say once that necessity was the mother of something or other.
He’d never been big on all that school stuff, but in this case he thought that
lesson might be useful, so he set his mind on finding a solution.
As he
walked he thought of things he was good at, but none of those things would
result in a reasonable amount of income. He’d heard about plenty of get rich
quick schemes, but was smart enough to know that those rarely worked as
advertised.
Before
long he got bored – as 14 year old boys sometimes do – and skipped some rocks
across the sidewalk. Then he fumbled through a storm drain and found a couple
of army men that had most likely washed away from someone’s yard during the
previous weeks’ rains. He detoured through the park and bounced a little rubber
ball he found near the basketball hoops. Then he set up the army men and tried
to hit them by bouncing the ball as high as he could and landing it on top of
them. After ten or twelve unsuccessful tries, he gathered his two army men and
began just bouncing the ball as high as he could and chasing after it.
The
last time he bounced it was probably his highest bounce, but it shot off into
the woods on its second or third bounce. He ran after it at full sprint, but
wasn’t quite sure where it had ended up. He stopped looking for it when he
heard the meowing.
A few
feet away, in some tall grass, was a gray and black kitten trying to paw its
way out of the long stems. It lifted its feet and swatted at the blades in
funny ways that made Lewis stand and watch for a couple of minutes before
stooping down and picking the little fella up and rubbing his head.
“Hey
there, buddy,” he told the snuggling cat, “joo getcherself stuck in the weeds?”
The
cat did not reply.
He
carried him out of the woods and back to the street, continuing toward home. It
never occurred to him the kitten might have an owner.
Along
the way he petted and chatted with the cat. The cat meowed and tried to climb
his arms and shoulders. They walked and played and Lewis named him Frito. As
they passed the retirement home he laughed and tried to keep Frito from
climbing around the back of his shirt.
Ms.
Moles heard the laughter and called out to him. “What do you got there? A
kitty?”
“Yeah,”
Lewis told her, “I like animals and stuff alright, but not as much as guitars
and music and stuff like that.”
Ms.
Moles smiled and they petted Frito and laughed. When he tried to climb into her
arms her giggles brought other retirees over to fawn over the kitty.
They
isn’t he addorabled and aren’t you a pretty kittied and come here and let me
give you kissesed him, while Lewis watched in awe at how easily this silly
little cat brought so much joy to their hearts.
“You
guys want him?” Lewis asked.
“Oh,
no,” Ms. Moles replied. “We couldn’t take your cat.”
“You
shush up,” Mrs. Keller told Ms. Moles. “If this young man wants to give us his
cat you just leave him be.”
“It
ain’t my cat,” Lewis explained. “Some dumb body left him in the woods. Besides,
my momma’d throw me out with him if I came home with a cat.”
This
seemed to make almost all of them giddy, so Lewis went on his way feeling
pretty darn good about himself. He liked feeling good about himself. It made
him feel like doing more stuff to make people happy.
At the
drug store on the corner he bought a newspaper, a magic marker and a poster
board. From there he made sure not to allow himself to get distracted and headed
straight home.
At
home Lewis took the markers and poster board and put them to good use, while he
thumbed through the classifieds and circled the appropriate ads. When he
circled all that applied, he picked up the phone.
“Hi,
I’m calling about the kittens you’re giving away,” he told the lady who
answered. “I’m trying to find kittens to donate to the retirement home for the
people there to enjoy and I was wondering if you’d mind if I came by and got
some of your kittens.” Short pause. “Awesome. Thank you. I’ll come by this
afternoon and pick them up. What’s the address?”
He
made eight more similar calls and jotted down the information he needed on a
single sheet of paper. Then he went to his sister’s room and knocked on the
door. She told him to go away, so he offered her $20.
“Just
give me a ride around the neighborhood to pick up a few things and then I need
to go to a store.”
“That’s
it?” Stacy asked.
“That’s
it. An easy twenty bucks.”
“Seems
easy enough.” Then she slammed the door and yelled, “Gimme thirty minutes.”
Stacy
was less than happy to drive him around, but he knew she needed the twenty
bucks. She was even less happy by the time they got to the ninth house and
Lewis walked up with his cardboard box and knocked on the door. When the lady answered
he said, “Hi, I’m Lewis I called about the cats for the retirement home.”
“Yes,”
the lady said. “I think it’s so sweet that you’re doing this,” she added, just
like the others had. She put 3 kittens in his box and waved as he walked away.
“Thanks,”
he shouted back. “My friends at the retirement home will be very happy.”
He put
the box in the back seat and got in the passenger side.
“Where
to, now?” Stacy asked.
“Toys
R Us,” he told her, crossing his arms.
“Why
Toys R Us?” she asked, looking confused. “And seriously, what the heck are you
doing with all these cats?”
“Just
trust me,” he said thinking.
They
pulled into the parking lot and found a spot as close to the front door as
possible. They had to drive around the lot a while because it was fairly busy.
He got
out of the car and opened the trunk. The meowing of a few dozen cats rang out
of boxes upon boxes, and he tossed in a few more toys to keep them occupied.
They seemed happy to have so many friends to play with and the small light he
had put in there allowed them to see one another clearly. He slid the poster
board out from under them and closed the trunk softly.
He
taped the poster board to the tripod he’d borrowed from his Dad. Next to the
sign he set up a TV tray and put the box from the back seat on top of it, then
opened up two folding chairs – also taken from the back seat – and offered one
to Stacy. She stared at the sign for a few minutes, and then sat down.
“This
is appalling and ingenious all at the same time,” she told him, opening a book
and leaning back to read. “I’m embarrassed to be impressed.”
A
little girl was walking past with her mother. She heard the cats myewing from
within the box and stopped. ”Can I see,” the girl asked Lewis.
“Sure,”
he said, pulling a gray and white out and handing it to her.
“Mommy,
I want one,” she whined, holding the kitten up against her cheek.
The mother looked at the sign. “$5.00?” she
asked.
“Yep.”
The
mother scrunched her face. “I don’t know, Missy.”
Lewis
sat there smiling at the girl who was laughing and letting the cat climb on
her. “It’s okay,” he added, reaching for the cat, “I’m pretty sure I can sell
them all, so they don’t have to go to the pound. And even if I can’t, I think
it’ll be about three or four days before the pound puts them to sleep, so there
should be enough time for someone to adopt them.”
The
little girl pulled away from him, hugging the cat. “Mommy, please?” She drew
out the please, making it sound too cute.
“Well,”
the mother said, “I guess so.”
“We
should get Tippy one, too,” the girl added, making the mother groan.
“Alright,”
said mommy. “Two I guess.”
Lewis
took the ten and handed the second cat to the little girl who was yaying and
excited. When they were out of ear shot, Lewis opened the trunk again.
“My
brother, the idiot genius,” Stacy laughed.
Lewis
took out two more cats and put them in the box. “The key is,” he told her, “to
make sure you have three in the box at the same time, because it makes them
look playful and cute.” He closed the trunk lightly. “Two, and they don’t play
as much, but four or more can be complete chaos.”
Stacy
laughed, and then laughed harder when she saw he was serious.
For
the next several hours, passersby stopped and played with Lewis’s cats, Stacy
finished her book, and children walked away gleefully with new little friends.
When there were only two cats left, Lewis put them in the box and the box in
the back seat. “Let’s go,” he said to Stacy.
“You
still have cats.” She was surprisingly more patient about the whole thing after
watching her brother in action. Almost like a psychologist observing a social
experience.
“These
are spoken for. One more stop.”
They
drove out of the parking lot and Lewis pulled out twenty dollars and set it on
the seat next to Stacy. Before long, they pulled up to the retirement home. No
one was outside, now, as the sun was setting and it was starting to get dark.
Lewis got out and walked to the front door. He opened it gingerly, careful with
the box he was carrying under his other arm.
Several
of the folks were milling around in the open area off to the side, so he walked
into the midst of them and set the box on a table. Ms. Moles saw him and came
over, holding the cat from earlier. She was followed by several others who were
reaching over trying to pet Frito.
Ms.
Moles started to speak, but Lewis took the two kittens out and handed them to
ladies standing with her. They gasped and awed.
A
younger woman in what looked like a nurses uniform walked over and tsk-tsked
him. “You can’t bring animals in here, young man.”
“Like
heck he can’t,” said a crotchety old man from across the room.
“Mr.
Samples, there are rules to be followed.”
Mr.
Samples stood up and caned his way toward them. “Most of the rules here stink.
All this boy’s trying to do is bring some joy into our lives.”
“Mr.
Samples,” the nurse said as if she were speaking to a child. “I’ve let you keep
this cat. Don’t look a gift horse…”
“A
gift cat,” Ms. Moles said and the others laughed.
“Okay,
don’t look a gift cat,” the nurse corrected with a thin smile, “in the mouth.”
“It’s
just a few cats,” another lady said, “and there’s nothing on cable.”
“Yeah,”
a man next to Mr. Samples said, “first you block the good stuff on cable, now
you block the cats,” and there was more laughter.
“Okay,
okay,” the nurse agreed. Then she looked down at Lewis. “But no more, okay?”
“Okay,”
Lewis said with a grin. He petted Frito and turned to leave as the gathering
retired thanked and goodbyed him.
Lewis
walked into the music store and set the money on the counter in front of the
owner who took the guitar off the wall and cased it.
“And
throw in a new set of string,” Lewis smiled. “And a strap and some picks.”
“Yesterday,
you said you couldn’t afford it,” the owner said. “Were you just trying to talk
me down?”
“Nope.
I just started my own business,” he told him.
“And
made that much in one day? If it’s legal, maybe I should get you to come to
work for me.” The man was laughing as he counted out the stack of fives and
tens.
“Nah,
I think I’ll milk this for a while. You know anyone who’s giving away puppies?”
--The End
To read more by Tim Hall, check out his new book, Lincoln Nabb and the Bully's Father at http://www.amazon.com/Truth-About-Lincoln-Volume-ebook/dp/B0087XOTK4.
