Chapter 89

It’s a slow ride up to the MLK. Can’t drive on the runway ... even if it is grass. I probably ought to do something about the bumps in the driveway ... road. It’s longer than the road to the River School ... but that’s public access and our little road is gated. Just the same ... bumps are part of mountain biking.

The cop ... he might have been 22 or 23 and new at the job ... asked, “You called this morning about your cat?”

“Yes ... someone swerved and killed him ... I waited but nobody came out to look. I miss him and decided I needed another cat.”

“Where did you get this one?”

“Raul?” I said it as intended. Rah-oool. Almost silent L. My cats have always had a difficult time with L.

“Yes.”

“At the Wild Animal Rescue Shelter.”

“He’s not wild.”

“According to the Shelter Manager, he jumped the fence to the Cat area.” I decided he needed to draw his own conclusions.

“And?”

“For the past 10 months he’s been playing with their injured Black Panther.”

“He stayed at the shelter voluntarily?”

“How would I know?” I questioned, “I guess you could ask him.”

I thought the cop was going to wreck his patrol car ... he ... for sure snorted coffee from his thermos cup.

“Just a suggestion,” I said.

“Tell ya what ... you ask him,” and he snickered.

“Ok.”

Another swerve.

“You gotta drive better than that.”

“I wasn’t serious.”

“I am.”

And I did. When we arrived at the gate.

“Raul?”

He came back from the road. He had been watching traffic. Even though it was late it was still too early for the bars traffic.

“Sit,”

<Is this a power play?>

“No.”

He sat.

“Did you stay at the Shelter all the time?”

<No ... I used to hunt the river bottom. I’ve been as far east as Houston and west to Ballinger.>

“I can’t tell him that.”

<I used to go over the roof and explore the area.>

The cop said, “You’re having a conversation with a cat?”

“Yes ... he says he used to go over the roof and explore.”

“Lady ... you’re bat-shit crazy.”

“Oh ... I know. Ain’t it great?”

<If he’ll go look, he can find the parking place where the guy in the pickup used to wait for cats crossing the road.>

“He says the cat killer used to wait for cats in the road. He knows where.”

“You wanna let me out?”

“Sure.”

I opened the car door and walked to the gate, unlocked it and swung it open. He drove through and stopped.

“Just for fun ... ask him where.”

<John Trevino Park. It’s closed after dark.>

“John Trevino Park ... after dark.”

He left.

I locked up and Raul and I hiked back to the hangar.

<Do I have to use that stupid litter box?>

“No.”

<Thank you. I’d rather bury my messes.>

“Don’t make a nuisance of yourself.”

<Yes, mom.>