He reached out a hand to stroke the fierce-looking animal, but the cat flinched sideways and sort of crawled away from him, putting as much distance as possible between herself and that outstretched hand.
“Look at him!” the headmistress practically shrieked. “We’ve called his parents in, and he doesn’t even look ashamed!”
Tommy stared straight into the angry headmistress’s eyes. Not a trace of remorse showed on the ten-year-old’s face for the terrible thing he’d done. With a bored expression he just stood there in silence, listening to Agatha Edwards’s rant.
“Burning the class register!” her voice rose to a screech.
“Wait outside,” his father ordered in a stern voice.
The boy walked out of the headmistress’s office, slamming the door hard behind him. He didn’t care if they punished him again. He couldn’t have done any different – he’d given his word…
And as for his parents, they’d forget all about him soon enough, once they took off on another expedition.
That same evening the family council decided to send Tommy to stay with his granddad in the village for the whole summer. Maybe the old man could find a way to handle the young rebel…
*****
“This is your daily routine,” George Saville, a former soldier, pointed to a sheet of paper covered in neat handwriting. “In the village there’s no time to mess about – everyone needs feeding and watering.”
“What am I, a slave?” Tommy blurted out when he saw the long list of chores.
George smiled, taking in the defiant look his grandson threw his way. The day before, his son had dropped Tommy off, complaining non-stop about how difficult he’d become. Constant fights at school, complaints from teachers and the headmistress – all taking time away from scientific research. Tommy’s parents had left for their expedition, relieved to dump their rebellious son on his granddad.
The days slowly passed, filled with unfamiliar tasks…
Tommy was up with the roosters, helping his granddad feed the spotted cow Daisy, the four piglets and the bay horse Archie. Carrying water, stacking chopped firewood, weeding the vegetable patch…
There was always something to do, but Tommy had given his word he wouldn’t complain.
“He’s watching me, isn’t he?” Tommy asked one day, eyeing his granddad’s favourite dog, Max, who followed him like a shadow whenever he left the yard.
“He can tell you’re not from around here – he’s worried you’ll get lost,” his granddad replied with a hint of irony.
What Tommy really loved was going fishing. He quickly got the hang of handling a rod, and after a couple of weeks George started letting him go down to the river alone.
The best fishing was early in the morning when it was still cool. Tommy loved sitting on the bank with his rod, watching the sun rise and light up everything around. You’d never see that in the city!
One early morning, settled on the bank of a pretty little river with his rods, Tommy noticed movement in the tall grass.
Somewhere nearby a frog was croaking loudly, and a dog barked. Ordinary sounds, but…
The grass rustled again, and the boy decided to check it out…
Stepping carefully through the high grass, he peered into the morning twilight but saw nothing. He thought he must have imagined it and was about to go back to his rods when he heard a faint, pitiful whimper.
He bent down and parted the grass with his hands – and a cat hissed at him fiercely, ears flattened in warning. The animal’s eyes told him to keep his distance, and the hiss was clearly a threat.
“Oh…” Tommy breathed in surprise. “What are you hissing for?”
He reached out a hand to stroke the fierce-looking animal, but the cat flinched sideways and sort of crawled away from him, putting as much distance as possible between herself and that outstretched hand.
By then it was getting light, and Tommy saw bloodstains on the animal’s pale fur. A picture from recent memory flashed before his eyes – four older kids tormenting a tabby cat with a frostbitten right ear…
Tommy shuddered, shaking off the painful memory. The cat was hurt – she needed help!
He couldn’t pick her up bare-handed; she was angry and clearly in pain. Looking around, he couldn’t see anything useful. He was wearing a light windbreaker against the morning chill.
He took it off and approached the hissing cat.
“Here, kitty kitty! I just want to help you… Here, kitty!”
With the last of her strength the cat lunged sideways, but Tommy was quicker. He threw the windbreaker over her, carefully wrapped her up and pressed her against his chest. Then he ran as fast as he could back home, forgetting all about the rods…
“Granddad, is the cat going to be all right?” the boy asked for the hundredth time, watching the door of the summer kitchen anxiously.
“Don’t worry, Mildred’s a vet – she knows her way around wounds,” George said, ruffling his grandson’s hair. “Go fetch your rods for now, and when you get back we’ll have news…”
Tommy nodded and ran quickly to the river for his rods. He was in such a hurry he could barely catch his breath by the time he got back.
Just then the slight figure of Mildred appeared in the doorway of the summer kitchen. The elderly woman said something to George, which made him smile happily.
“How is she?” Tommy burst out.
“She’ll be fine,” Mildred replied. “Looks like a dog bit her… I’ve cleaned the wounds, now it’s up to you to look after her.”
“I’ll do everything!” Tommy exclaimed, and tears of joy and relief filled his eyes…
That evening the boy didn’t leave the sleeping cat’s side. He’d made an improvised bed from a box and an old blanket, placed bowls of food and water nearby, and just sat watching her sleep.
“You going to sleep here?” George asked.
“Can I?” Tommy asked hopefully.
“Better we bring her inside,” his granddad suggested.
They moved the cat into the room where Tommy slept and put the box next to his bed.
Up close, the cat’s colouring turned out to be a light beige with barely visible stripes.
Tommy sat on the edge of the bed, still watching his patient sleep.
“You know, looking at you, grandson, I’m amazed,” George said thoughtfully, sitting down on a chair in the corner. “You’re not lazy, you’re clever, responsible, and you’ve got plenty of kindness. So why all this mutiny on the ship?”
Tommy looked at his granddad and shrugged instead of answering.
“That last trick of yours with the class register…” his granddad pressed. “You didn’t just burn it for nothing, did you?”
“I gave my word, and if you give your word you’ve got to keep it,” Tommy muttered.
He reached out and gently stroked the sleeping cat’s head.
“Who did you give your word to?” George’s suspicions were confirmed – he’d never believed his grandson was guilty.
“There’s a stray cat living in the basement of the building next to the school. I used to feed him and talk to him, just like you talk to Max,” Tommy explained, sniffing. “I dreamed of taking him home, but my parents wouldn’t even listen… I gave my word to Socks that I’d always protect him.”
“And what happened to that cat?” his granddad asked in a quiet voice, holding his breath.
“Older lads from school were tormenting him,” Tommy’s voice wavered. “I asked them to stop, and they agreed – on condition that I burn the class register…”
“Bastards!” the old man burst out. “Where is that cat now?”
“A lady took him, the janitor told me,” Tommy said, stroking the cat again. “I really wish I knew how Socks is doing…”
“You did well,” his granddad said, patting his head. “You kept your word, that’s right, but why didn’t you tell your parents?”
“They never asked,” Tommy answered simply.
The days passed… The wounds on Zephyr – that’s what Tommy called the cat – healed. She stopped hissing and looking at people suspiciously.
Zephyr accepted the care of the human who’d saved her life. Soon the cat, now plumper and much better-looking, moved to sleep on Tommy’s bed.
The boy’s dream had come true, but he often dreamed of that tabby cat Socks with his frostbitten ear. The cat would rub against his legs affectionately and purr loudly when Tommy picked him up.
“Where are you?” Tommy would ask the tabby cat in his sleep, but he never got an answer.
July passed, then August…
Tommy waited for his parents to come for him, but instead his granddad announced he had to go into the city on business. After finishing the morning chores, George left the place in his grandson’s care and caught the train.
He came back in the evening, tired but pleased. He praised Tommy for keeping everything in order and, smiling mysteriously, called him into the living room, where he’d earlier brought a large box.
“Come here, grandson,” George said, pointing to the sofa. “Look who came back with me from the city.”
Tommy walked in and looked at the sofa. He blinked a few times, afraid he was seeing things.
“Socks!” the boy cried out, carefully picking up the tabby cat with the frostbitten ear. “Granddad, you’re the best!”
The cat looked healthy and well-fed. Later, George told his grandson how Tommy’s actions had impressed him, and he decided to track down the tabby cat, asking for help from Tommy’s school.
It turned out the janitor had called the shelter to take the stray cat away, fearing for its life.
At the beginning of September, Tommy’s parents arrived with the news that they had to leave for a long expedition, and the boy would have to stay with his granddad for a while.
They hardly recognised the cheerful, happy child as the old rebel.
“Dad, you’ve worked a miracle!” Tommy’s father exclaimed.
“Learn to listen to your child,” George said pointedly.
As for Tommy, he was delighted to stay living with his granddad and not have to part with Socks and Zephyr.
The rebel had turned into the most caring and responsible owner for his pets.
Author: Ilona Schwander
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