The Painted Ponies of Partequineus and The Summer of the Kittens by Peter H. Riddle Page A

work. He’s really smart, and sometimes I take his books to him and his assignments and stuff, and that’s what I did today, ’cause of the math test tomorrow, and he needs to study, just in case he feels well enough to go to school in the morning.
    Mrs. Morris opened the door when I rang the bell.
    â€œI brought Jimmy’s schoolwork,” I told her. “How’s he doing?”
    â€œHe’s sitting out on the deck, dear,” she said. “You can go see him.”
    I followed her into the house and back to the dining room, and when she went into the kitchen I opened the big sliding door and stepped out onto the deck. Jimmy was wrapped up in some kind of a blanket, even though it was really warm out. He looked awfully pale and his eyes were sort of red and burned looking, so I knew he was having one of his headaches. He gets headaches a lot. Mom told me that he had hydro-something when he was a baby and it made his head swell up, and he had to have a couple of operations to fix it, only I guess the doctors didn’t do such a good job, ’cause he still gets the headaches, sometimes really bad, like today. But he smiled at me and said “Hi.”
    â€œI’ve got your stuff,” I said. “Mr. Parrish is giving us a test tomorrow. You think you can come?”
    â€œSure.” Jimmy always says that, even when it’s obvious that he’s too sick to go anywhere. “What’s the test on?”
    â€œChapter Thirty-four. It’s mostly review, but I thought you might like to go over it. I can help you if you want.”
    â€œThat’s okay.” He was kind of grinning at me, and I knew what he was thinking. When it comes to math, it’s usually him helping me. But English and history, that’s a different matter. Especially writing - I really like to write. But you know that already, old pal Diary. Mom says I have a really vivid imagination, and I guess she’s right, because I’m always seeing stuff that nobody else sees.
    â€œAny sign of the cat today?” Jimmy asked.
    â€œNope. I left some food out for him last night, and it was gone this morning.”
    â€œHow do you know it’s a him?”
    â€œI don’t.”
    â€œCould be a girl cat. Does your Mom know you fed it?”
    â€œUh, uh. I didn’t tell her.”
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œJust didn’t think of it, I guess.”
    That wasn’t exactly the truth. I don’t lie to Jimmy often, only I didn’t want to get into the whole thing about my Dad, how he won’t let me have any pets. Once when I was eight there was this stray cat that came into our yard, and Mom let me feed it some tuna fish, and then it started coming to the door all the time, and I wanted to keep it and Dad threw some kind of a fit, all about how we’d end up with fleas all over the house, and how cats smell and make messes and scratch the furniture. I don’t know what happened to the cat, ’cause when we stopped feeding it, it disappeared after a few days. That made me really sad. I wasn’t going to go through that again, which is why I didn’t even tell Mom this time.
    â€œWant to go look for it?” I asked.
    â€œCan’t,” Jimmy said.
    I nodded. Jimmy never explained when he couldn’t go someplace, and I never expected him to. He never talked about his spina bifida. It’s just, you know, the way things are with him, so what’s the use of talking about it?
    â€œYou gonna feed it again tonight?” he asked.
    â€œI guess so.”
    â€œDon’t let Mr. Harding see you.”
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œRemember what he said when he was yelling at me? He doesn’t want the cat hanging around.”
    â€œHe doesn’t own the street,” I said, a little bit annoyed. “Anyway, the cat’s probably gone by now.”
    Jimmy’s face kind of screwed up then, like he was in pain. He turned and stared