10 Leaves Dropping

Chapter 10 Leaves Dropping I spun around and ran toward the back of the bookstore. I saw an open doorway and flew inside. I was in a tiny office. A lady sat at a desk, talking on the phone. She had a tissue in her hand and a red nose. She looked very surprised to see me. "Sweetie, you're not supposed to be in here," she said. "This is the office. Are you lost?" "No, I'm just looking," I said, because that's what my mom always says to store helpers. "Well, just let me finish up this call, and I'll see if I can help you," she said. I peeked out the door. No-name was waiting for me. Her tail swished back and forth like windshield wipers. She was plotting how to cross my path.

I could see it in her shiny green eyes. The office lady sneezed. "Yes, I know," she said into the phone. "She's a darling kitten, but I'm so allergic. I'm sure someone will take her home on Saturday." I heard footsteps. Dad poked his head in the door. "Roscoe," he said. "That cat is not going to give you bad luck. But I will, if you don't start listening to reason." "Can I help you, sir?" the lady asked. "Just collecting my son," Dad said. He took my hand and pulled me out of the office. No-name sat in the aisle, swishing her tail and waiting for her chance to curse me. "Run, Dad," I yelled. I rushed toward the exit as fast as I could. No-name rushed after me. Just as I reached the front door, it swung open. A boy carrying a strawberry milkshake came in. I crashed into him. He crashed into me. The strawberry milkshake crashed into my Tshirt.

No-name took one look at the mess and ran the other way. I was pink. And milky. But I'd outsmarted that bad-luck kitty. "Roscoe, what happened to your white T-shirt?" Mom asked when we got home. "A strawberry milkshake ran into me," I said. "We stopped by the bookstore so Roscoe could take a guess on the megapumpkin," Dad said. "I met No-name, by the way, Hazel. She is a very

cute kitty. Although Roscoe might not agree with me." "Can we have her, Dad? Can we, please?" Hazel begged. "I could dress her in my doll clothes and name her Bitsy Boo." "Bitsy Boo? You've got to be kidding!" Max laughed. "How about Rocky?" Hazel shook her head. "Nope. She's a girl and she needs a girl name." "Well, call her what you want. But you can't dress her in doll clothes," Max said. "Right, Mom?" "Right," said Mom. "Cats generally aren't in favor of playing dress-up." "Everybody," I said loudly, "we can't get No-name." "We're just considering the idea," Dad said. "We haven't made a final decision." "But you can't get her," I said.

"Roscoe, I told you that black cats are not bad luck," Mom said. I took a big breath. "We can't get her because I heard the lady in the bookstore office say someone was for sure already taking her home on Saturday. I was sort of eavesdropping." Hazel's eyes got wide. "Mommy, what's leaves dropping?" she asked. "Listening to a conversation you're not supposed to be listening to," said Mom. "Are you sure about this, Roscoe?" Dad asked. "Positive," I said. At least I was pretty sure that's what the lady said. Maybe not exactly sure. But kind of sure. And besides, I didn't want my family to have bad luck move in with them. Shoelace-grabbing, cute-purring, big-eye-blinking bad luck. Hazel's eyes got wet with tears. "But I wanted her to be my kitty!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," said Mom. "If we decide to get a kitty, there are lots of sweet cats at the animal shelter."

Goofy trotted over to Hazel. He tried to lick her tears. She blew her nose on Mom's shirt. She looked so sad. "Hazel," I said. "Maybe…" "Maybe what?" Hazel asked, sniffling loudly. "Um, never mind," I said. I was not exactly sure what I was going to say. Maybe I was going to say that maybe I wasn't really sure about No-name being taken already. Maybe. But I guess I'll never know, because I didn't say it.