The sun was low in the sky, threatening to plunge into the ocean, and the shops were all still open, so the street was busy. A couple of college kids, a boy and a girl, came meandering up the sidewalk holding hands. The girl was tall and slightly plump, with short frizzy hair and a flowing hippie skirt, and the boy was a good deal shorter, with black-framed glasses and a seventies-style goatee. They slowed, and the boy said, “Ma’am, are they still closed?” I nodded. “Yeah.” The girl said, “Bummer,” and then they made sad, grumpy faces at each other. I mad a sad, grumpy face at myself in the reflection of the window as they walked on. Since when did kids get so goddamned polite? I decided if one more person called me ma’am I would sock him in the mouth. I was a little worried about being seen going into the bookstore. I didn’t want to have to answer any questions about what I was doing there, or what had happened to Mr. Hoskins. Since Mrs. Silverthorn had asked that I not tell her husband about our arrangement or what I was doing, I was pretty sure she didn’t want me telling anybody else either.
What do You think about The Cat Sitter's Nine Lives?
