Snakes Don't Miss Their Mothers by M. E. Kerr Page B

path and came to water.
    It was not an ocean. It was quiet water.
    Goldie could remember the sound of the ocean, the waves slapping the beach. The Randalls loved Long Island, and before they’d moved here, they’d visited every summer. Bob would let him run free along the sand. Goldie would take off! But he would always look over his shoulder to be sure Bob was coming.
    â€œNot so fast, Elio!” said the lady.
    He felt the jerk to his collar that told him he was doing something he shouldn’t, so he slowed up.
    He heard her sigh again.
    He knew that sigh well from hearing it in Critters. It was the sigh of longing for someone who was gone forever. Dewey, the Irish setter, had sighed that way again and again, and Marshall had told Goldie that Irving used to sigh that way.
    Goldie kept his face down against the cold afternoon wind, and they plodded along.
    Goldie remembered how Rags sometimes went out and climbed the tree in the front yard.
    Bob’s mother would call Rags and call him, and all the time the cat would be sitting up on a high branch looking down at her.
    Then Goldie would be let out to look for her.
    He would sit under the tree, barking.
    â€œSo that’s where you are, Rags!” Bob would say.
    And later, when Rags finally came down and they all went inside, Rags would say—But then the strangest thing happened in the middle of this memory of Rags.
    Goldie could hear Rags saying something. It was not Rags’ usual crabby tone scolding Goldie for some offense. It was Rags telling him to avoid all gloves red.
    Goldie gave a bark of alarm.
    The lady said, “Do you hear something, Elio?”
    Goldie barked again.
    â€œWhat do you want?” She sounded irritated.
    She jerked his collar again.
    The vision of Rags up in the tree disappeared, and so did the sound of his mewing advice.
    Goldie heeled obediently as they walked along by the bay. He could not see the brown Bronco chugging very slowly along the parallel road.

24
A Future with Lot Lice?
    P LACIDO LOOKED AS THOUGH he were drooling over Snack, which he did most mornings, but there was something more important on his mind than the taste of seagull. In fact, he did not even know what seagull tasted like, whether it would be more like chipmunk or closer to bluejay. But Placido knew very well what it was like to be returned to Critters, and that was where his thoughts were, suddenly, as the New Year approached. His one eye was on Snack, but his attention was on the conversation behind him, between Jimmie and her father.
    â€œWith BrainPower out of the picture, there’s nothing holding us here, Jimmie. So after New Year’s, why don’t we sail down to Miami?”
    â€œCouldn’t I be a clown again?” Jimmie asked. “I love sculpting balloons and running around in those floppy shoes with the false nose and the polka-dot jumpsuit.”
    â€œI want you to go to boarding school, Jimmie. It’s what Mom would have wanted for you: a good education. We have her insurance money now, and she would want you to use it that way.”
    â€œI’m getting a good education on the Internet.”
    â€œMs. Fondaloot told me you had some trouble at the BrainPower audition. She said you needed to hit the books more.”
    â€œYou told me to count my victories, not to think about saying ‘consensus of opinion.’ That’s all I did wrong, Daddy.”
    â€œHave you written your essay about something unique in a country? I’ll bet you haven’t even thought of what it will be.”
    â€œIt will be the Great Wall of China,” said Jimmie. “It took ten years and one million people to build it.”
    â€œOkay. That’s good.”
    â€œI’m going to write about it as soon as New Year’s is over.”
    â€œOkay. But in Florida I’m going to get a regular job. You can’t be all by yourself every day.”
    â€œI’ll have Placido.”
    â€œI