8 We all screamed. The branch bobbed up and down. The cat clung to the branch with his front paws. His back legs kicked the air furiously. “Oh no oh no oh no!” Mrs. Rudolph chanted, covering her eyes with one hand. The cat yowled in terror. Somehow he managed to pull himself back up onto the shaking tree branch. Then he cried again, frightened, human-sounding cries. Mrs. Rudolph lowered her hand from her eyes. She stared disgustedly at me. “I guess I’d better call the fire department.” I knew I should grab onto the tree trunk and pull myself up. But I really am afraid of heights. I’m just not a good climber. With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Rudolph turned and started jogging to her house. She stopped when we heard a girl’s voice cry out. “Hey — what’s the problem?” Courtney rolled onto the sidewalk on her sleek red racing bike. She hopped off and let the bike fall to the ground. She was wearing white denim overalls over a bright yellow T-shirt. “What’s going on, guys?”
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