She meowed and howled and turned in her sleep. “Go sit on the toilet,” I told her. She clung to my side, meowing and howling. Vonetta yelled, “Quit it, Fern. I can’t sleep.” I paid her no mind and neither did Fern. If Fern couldn’t sleep, then we all couldn’t sleep, so too bad for Vonetta and too bad for me. I just let Fern carry on while I rubbed her stomach. It took a while, but she finally fell into sleep. Before we left for the Center in the morning, I asked Cecile for food money for tonight’s dinner. If I could hold on to two hundred dollars over three thousand miles, I could hold on to a ten-dollar bill for a few hours. Cecile didn’t bother with any questions. She just gave me the ten-dollar bill and a door key so she wouldn’t have to get up and let us in. I think anyone standing at the front door made her jumpy. Even when we ate on the floor in the living room, I’d catch her eyes shift to the door when she heard a noise. Maybe she thought the Panthers were coming back to bother her for more ink and paper.
