Slim's Goodbye. John R. Erickson

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      Sally May stopped and loomed over us like a thunder­head cloud. Her gaze went from me to Alfred and back to me. When it was on me, I could feel the heat of it. It was hard for me to keep up my casual smile, but somehow I managed to do it.

      “Well. What have we here?”

      “Oh, hi, Mom. We were just . . . goofin’ awound.”

      “Goofing around. Did you happen to notice that the gate is open?”

      Alfred’s eyes turned to the open gate. “Gosh. The wind must have bwone it open.”

      Her left eyebrow rose. “The wind did not blow it open. You opened it and you were trying to feed Hank in my yard, weren’t you?”

      The boy’s head sank into his shoulders. “Well, he was hungwy.”

      “Of course he was hungry. He’s always hungry, but you can’t feed him in my yard.” Her eyes swung around to me. “No dogs in the yard. Period. Ever. Is that clear, Hank?”

      I felt myself melting under the beam of her eyes. Yes ma’am.

      She turned back to the boy. “Is that clear, Alfred Leroy?”

      “Yes ma’am. But I think it was the wind.”

      A thin smile slid across her mouth. “Don’t try to tell whoppers to your mother. I know boys and I know dogs. What one of you doesn’t think up, the other one will. Oh, and save some of the scraps for the other animals. It isn’t fair for Hank to get them all.”

      And with that, she cupped her hands around her mouth and called Drover and her precious kitty. In a flash, Drover was there, huffing and puffing.

      “Hi, Hank. I touched base and made it in time for scraps. Are you proud of me?”

      I gave him a glare. “You bet. I was worried sick you might not make it.”

      “Gosh, thanks. And you waited on the scraps until I got here, huh?”

      “Oh yes. It wouldn’t have been fair if I’d gotten all the . . . Drover, did you touch base once or twice?”

      “Well, let’s see. Once. That’s what you said.”

      “Darn. I guess I forgot to tell you.”

      His grin vanished. “Tell me what?”

      “Well, you’re supposed to touch base twice. I thought you knew that. I mean, I thought everybody knew that. It’s common knowledge.”

      “It is?”

      “Sure. If you touch base only once . . . well, I’m sure you can guess what might happen.”

      “Is it bad?”

      “Oh yes, very bad. It’s so bad, I can’t even say it out loud.”

      He was looking worried by this time. “Gosh. Can you whisper it?”

      “Better not. Just try to imagine the worst thing that might happen.”

      He thought about it for a minute. “Not that.”

      “Yes, Drover. That.”

      “That would be awful.”

      “See? Didn’t I tell you? It just doesn’t pay to cut corners.”

      “Yeah, and maybe I’d better run back down there and touch base again.”

      I gave him a wink and a nod. “Great idea, Drover. And what makes it even greater is that you came up with it on your own.”

      “Yeah, I feel so proud. Maybe I’m smarter than I thought.”

      “Oh? How smart did you think you were?”

      “Not very.”

      “I think you’re on the right trail, son.”

      “Thanks, Hank. Here I go!”

      And with that, he went zooming back down to the gas tanks, which left me and Little Alfred with all the, heh heh, scraps. I turned to him and switched into a little routine we call I’ll Die If I Don’t Get Those Scraps. It seemed to be working. He plucked a juicy fatty end of bacon off the plate and was about to toss it into the air when . . . oops. She was still there.

      Madame Radar.

      Alfred’s mother.

      Sally May. “Alfred! Wait for the cat. Here kitty kitty kitty. Come on, Petey, come for scraps.”

      We waited. I hate waiting, and the kind of hating I wait the most is waiting for a cat. What a waste of time. What a waste of good scraps. I really dislike cats a lot.

      Well, at last Pete showed himself. Do you think he came running? Oh no. If he hadn’t been called, he would have come out of the bushes like a little rocket, and he’d have been crawling all over Alfred to mooch some scraps. But since he’d been called, since we had all been forced to wait for His Worth­less Highness, he came at a slow walk.

      He was purring, of course, and wearing that grin that drives me nuts. He stepped out of the iris patch and rubbed his way down the side of the house until he reached the porch. There, he rubbed against the northwest corner of the porch and waltzed down the sidewalk until he came to Sally May. He made three circles around her, rubbing on her legs as though he loved her so much he just couldn’t contain himself.