Lending a Paw(9)

His brother Trevor, sitting on the carpeted step at the base of the shelves, snorted. “Bet he has more than one.”

“Answering questions is why I’m here,” I said. “What do you want to know, Ethan?”

He pointed to the driver’s seat. “Why does the library have a steering wheel?”

“Because this library is on wheels. You saw me drive up, remember? And if something has wheels, you need a way to steer it.”

He nodded, then pointed to a shelf of books. “If the library moves, why don’t those fall on the floor?”

“You have bookshelves at home, right? And I bet yours are flat, like this.” I held my hands out in front of me. “If books on the bookmobile were like that, they would fall off when we hit bumps on the road.” My hands made bouncing motions. “But these shelves are different. Do you see how?”

Ethan looked at my hands, looked at the shelves, and frowned deep enough to put crinkles in his forehead.

Trevor sighed heavily, but otherwise kept quiet.

Finally, Ethan pursed his lips and nodded firmly. “They tip.”

His father clapped him on the shoulder. “Way to go, kiddo! You figured it out all by yourself.”

But Ethan wasn’t done asking questions. He pointed at the laptop computer on the counter behind the driver’s seat. “What’s that for?”

I moved away from the cabinet and showed him the RFID scanner and the wiring connecting it to the computer. “We use these to keep track of where all the books are.”

Ethan was roaming, running his fingers over the shelves, his intelligent eyes hunting for things he didn’t understand. More questions were clearly imminent.

Chad watched his son. “You’ve done a great thing here.” His other five children had piles of books at their feet.

“Thanks,” I said. “We had a generous budget, but even a great big pile of money runs out at some point.”

“That’s right, you had a donation.” Chad snapped his fingers. “I remember reading about it. Some guy who grew up around here?”

I nodded, smiling as I thought of my elderly friend. “Stan Larabee. He’s about seventy now. He moved away after high school and got into Florida real estate development. When he retired a few years ago, he moved back up here and—”

There was a click that sounded a lot like the click the cabinet doors made when being opened. I looked up. Froze solid. Half a nanosecond later, my mouth started to open, but I was far, far too late.

“Hey, look!” Ethan said, pointing.

Princess jumped to her feet. “It’s a kitty cat!”

“Mrr,” said Eddie.





Chapter 3


“A cat?” Chad looked at me.

I sucked in a large breath and blew it out. “Your kids aren’t allergic, are they?” Because now all six of them were sitting or standing or kneeling in front of the cabinet, giggling and pointing.

Chad snorted. “Those kids are so healthy, my wife and I have been tempted to inject them with a flu virus so they know what it’s like to be sick.”

“Can I pet him?” Ethan asked.

“Why do you have a cat in the cabinet?” Trevor asked.

“He’s beautiful,” Princess cooed.

The middle girl asked, “What’s his name?”

“Eddie,” I said, sighing. “His name is Eddie.” I made my way through the children and crouched down. The troublesome one had retreated so far into the cabinet that his fur was sliding up against the back wall. “We’ve been discovered, pal. You might as well come on out.” His yellow eyes stared at me. “Come on,” I said, “the natives are friendly.” I danced my fingers on the front edge of the shelf. He inched forward, sniffing, and finally came forward far enough to let me swoop him up.

I kissed the top of his head, then turned around to make the introductions. “Eddie, this is Ethan. And Trevor. And Mr. Engstrom. And . . .” I looked at the other kids. “And what are your names?”

“Rose,” said Princess Girl.

“Emma,” said the youngest girl.

“I’m Patrick,” said the middle boy, “and she’s Cara.”

“Hi, Eddie,” Cara said in a voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear her. “You’re a pretty cat.”

“Mrr,” he said, and then the total and complete ham started purring. I rolled my eyes and the kids crowded closer, all reaching out to pet him. Eddie sighed and let them.

“I take it Eddie wasn’t a planned feature?” Chad asked.

Maybe the world wouldn’t end. At least not today. “He’s a stowaway,” I said, “and if word gets back to my boss that I let a cat on the bookmobile, my job will be toast.”