Cain's Siscer
"This will work out fine," Cain said again, and I deci~ed to believe him. When we got to our block we cut through the alley behind Jantzens' and Wilsons' to get to the playhouse in our backyard. Nobody ever goes out there but us. We made a bed for her in an old egg crate and then set out to get her fed. It was a beautiful thing how that worked out. Mom was standing in the kitchen when we walked in and without even waiting for Cain to tell me what to do I asked her about her garden, about what was that green lacy stuff coming up in the last row down by the street. She walked over to the door to look at it while she answered and Cain grabbed a cup of milk and slipped out the back door. I could hardly keep from laughing it worked so well and I almost ruined it by running out the back door to catch up with Cain, but I stopped my feet just in time so I didn't give it all away. We fed her through a straw until she was strong enough to drink on her own. Then Cain talked me into agreeing that we couldn't keep stealing food out of the kitchen and the money we got for turning in the pop bottles could buy her food. "And nobody would be the wiser," he said. Keeping the cat a secret wouldn't be hard, I thought, but giving up my little bit of money wouldn't be easy. I had plans for my wealth and feeding a cat wasn't part of them. I had enough trouble with my own temptations. For example, the Ben Franklin store down on Douglas Street had two doors along its glass front. A candy counter stood between those doors so no matter which one you chose you had to walk past it. It was a vision, that candy counter. Glass cases filled with colors and shapes to make your mouth water. Your intentions disappear. You could buy as little as could be measured into a silver scoop, or as much as could fill it, though buying a full scoop was something I'd only dreamed about. Yellow and orange corn candy wedges. Pink circles of mint lozenges. Red and black licorice twists. Maple Nut Goodies-oh, the crunchy, chewy sweetness that could so often trip me up, and all that before I even got to the chocolate stars. When I think of heaven I imagine that it has two doors with a candy counter between them and when you step through one, your pocket grows heavy with spendable coins. Same picture with temptation. If the devil wanted to turn my head around he'd just have to set up a candy counter with glass cases over rows and rows of bars and gum and rolls of mints. I found it almost impossible to walk past something that beautiful. What I'd really been saving my nickels for, though, was something farther back in the store. Near the back between Fabrics and Toys, down the aisle from Knick Knacks, were the plastic animal statues. You could get most any farm animal you wanted, although why anybody would want a statue of a pig was beyond me. But the horses, ah, the horses. Summer 2005
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