Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper by Patricia Fry Page A

and saw him press his lips together and wipe at his eyes. He took a deep breath before saying, “So, wanna show Savannah your treasures?”
    “Yeah,” he said enthusiastically as he reached deep into one of his front pockets and pulled out a closed fist. He turned his hand over and opened it.
    “A marble…wow. That’s a nice one—a cat-eye, right?” Savannah asked.
    “Yeah,” he said excitedly. And then hesitantly, he asked, “But not a real one, right?”
    Savannah glanced at Michael, who was smiling. She looked back over at Adam. “Certainly, not a real cat-eye; no. But it’s a fine marble. And a bottle cap off of…”
    “RC Cola,” he said, turning it over to show her.
    “Good job. What else is here? A screw—gold screw. Nice,” she said.
    “And a penny. I found it over by the big trash box.”
    She hesitated. “Oh, the Dumpster? Cool.”
    “I found cigarettes and a bandage and…what else, Dad? Oh a bottle for winos.”
    Savannah la ughed. “A wine bottle?”
    “Yes. Dad said I couldn’t bring that stuff home. I found rocks, but Dad said they weren’t usual, so I should leave them here.”
    “They weren’t unusual ,” Michael corrected. “They were just ordinary.”
    Savannah squeezed Adam’s shoulde r. “Well, you did pretty good.” She looked at Michael, who sat in a chair next to her. “What do you have there? Did you find a treasure, too?”
    “Oh,” he said, looking down at the object in his hand, “I believe it’s part of an emblem off an old car.”
    “I found it; Dad’s just carrying it for me ’cause it won’t fit in my pocket,” Adam said, taking the piece of chrome from Michael and showing it to Savannah.”
    “Hmm, I wonder what kind of car,” she said.
    “Dad said maybe a…what did you call it, Dad?”
    “Could be from a Hudson or a Nash.”
    “We’re going to look it up on the computer,” Adam said.
    “Way cool, guys. Hey, how about some water? You’re probably thirsty after all of that exploring.” She pulled three plastic water bottles out of her tote bag and handed one each to Michael and Adam.
    “Are you ready to try playing with one of the cats now?” Michael asked. “…if they’re not all sleeping after having a good meal.”
    “Yeah, I guess,” Adam said.
    Michael took out his pocketknife, which drew Adam to him immediately. “What’s that?” he asked.
    “Pocketknife.”
    “Why do you have it?”
    “It’s actually a tool—you can cut with it,” he said as he cut a piece of the cord from the roll. “You can use it as a screwdriver—see the flat edge on this blade? You can open packages with i t, whittle—do all kinds of things.”
    “Cool.” Adam stood quietly for a moment and then said, “We can’t bring knives to school.”
    “Well, of course you can’t. Knives are tools for adults.” He handed Adam the cord and said, “Now, I’ll sit here with Savannah, and you walk slowly over to the hole and see if you can get any cats interested in playing. Just walk back and forth dragging the cord.”
    Adam did as Michael suggested, moving slowly toward the hole and wriggling the cord at the entrance.
    “I see a couple of cats watching you,” Michael said. “Just walk around, slowly.”
    “Oh!” Adam exclaimed, as a cat edged out from under the building, crouched, and then pounced on the cord the boy dragged through the soft dirt. “That scared me,” he said giggl ing.
    Savannah and Michael laughed. “You caught something,” she said.
    “Yeah, a cat-fish,” Adam said. He then stopped. “Hey, there really are catfish, but I caught a cat that isn’t a fish.”
    Adam was able to engage four of the young cats in various levels of play. A few of the adult cats were curious enough to sit just inside the crawl space and watch the action. After about fifteen minutes and several rounds of laughter, Savannah said, “Adam, when you’re through fishing, let’s go back to the house and have hot dogs and root beer