Trevor crossed off another entry on the list of shelters. Only one name was left. If it were full, surely his mom would have to let him keep the kittens.
“What’s the next number,” she said. Her voice sounded tired. She rubbed her eyes and picked up the phone.
Trevor read off the number. His mom listened for awhile, then hung up the phone. “A recording,” she said. “They’re not even answering.” Her voice took on a mocking tone, “Our shelter is overflowing. Please do not leave a message unless you are interested in adopting a kitten.” She picked up the phone. “I had no idea there were so many kittens in the state. Who’s next?”
Trevor drew a heavy line through the last name. “That’s it, Mom. You called them all.”
She closed her eyes and collapsed back in the chair. “Twenty shelters within a hundred miles and not one has room for two little kittens. We couldn’t even find someone to talk to us and give us some advice.”
Trevor blurted out, “I guess we’ll have to keep them.”
“I’ll check the Internet again to see if I missed any other options.” She smiled at him. “Feed them when it’s dark,” she told him. “No need for the neighbors to know.”
At first the kittens hid in the bush next to the house whenever anyone was around. Any loud noises sent them scrambling off the porch to disappear in the tangle.
When his mother searched the Internet for other shelters, the only help she found was a pattern for a simple wooden structure. Trevor and his father spent the weekend building it on a corner of the porch. The natural wood and green painted roof blended in with the bush and was hardly noticeable from the street.
The skies had been gray all day. A soft snow began to fall and collect on the shelter roof. Now that he wasn’t moving, Trevor felt the cold.
An icy breeze blew across the yard picking up debris and swirling it through the air. One brown and green leaf separated from the others and lazily drifted upward to the top of the streetlight. The light came on, starting with a pinpoint and growing into a bright glow. The falling snow sparkled silver in its beam.
“Nice work,” his father said as he stepped back to admire the shelter. “We finished just in time.”
Trevor shivered and rubbed his cold hands together. “At least it will keep the snow off,” he said.
“I think we can do better than that,” his mother said stepping past him. She knelt down and poked in a soft blanket. On the top she placed a couple treats. “Come inside now and let them explore.”
In the evenings, Trevor sat on the porch hoping Brownie would get used to him. At first all he got was a cold seat and numb toes.
One night he slipped out after dinner and sat down on the top step. Color faded from the evening sky and one bright star stood out in the empty expanse.
Brownie crept up and sat down beside him on the step. He was getting bigger and now had a thick fur coat. Holding his breath, Trevor reached out with one finger and scratched the kitten’s back. It purred and leaned against his hand but quickly skittered into the bush when the door opened.
Trevor’s dad sat next to him, a book tucked under his arm. He took a noisy breath and blew into what looked like a small black beach ball with white lines painted on it. When it was fully inflated, he pressed the plug into the hole.
“Long as you’re spending all this time outside at night, you might as well learn the stars.” He handed him a small flashlight.
“What’s the ball for?”
“This is a star globe. Light please,” he said and tapped the ball.
Trevor flipped on the flashlight and a soft red beam shone out. “It’s red,” he said.
“That’s so your eyes will stay adjusted to the dark and you’ll be able to see more stars. You don’t need it yet, but you will once it gets really dark out.” He turned the globe. “Here we are - Orion.” He traced out the pattern of the constellation, and then pointed it out in the sky. “Winter is the best time for star gazing.”
“Wouldn’t it be nicer in the summer when it’s warm?”
“There’s less interference when the air is cold. Heat causes distortion in the air.”
Cold crept up Trevor’s back. As the sky darkened, other stars began to appear. They twinkled like bright snowflakes. One brilliant star low on the horizon stood out from the rest.
Trevor turned the ball around looking for it, but the white marks flowed together in meaningless lines and dots. He’d never be able to figure them out. A faint siren wailed in the distance.
Chattering meows and rustles burst from the bush. Trevor dropped the ball as something flitted past his head. Bob sprung out of the foliage and dashed toward them. Inches away, the kitten skidded to a stop landing on his rear. With a hissing spit, he turned and retreated into the bush.
“That looked like a small bat,” his dad said. “There shouldn’t be any bats out in January...”
As Trevor picked up the ball he glanced around. The bright star blinked as if something had blocked it out for a second. “What’s that?” he asked.
“That is what the ancients called a wanderer. It’s a planet. That’s Jupiter. The fourth brightest object in the sky. Only the sun, the moon and Venus are brighter.”
He started to explain that he hadn’t meant the star, when silver sparkles streaked across the sky.
“Wow,” his dad said. “Did you see that?”
Trevor nodded.
“It must have been a shooting star, but it was the strangest one I’ve ever seen.”
They stayed until their fingers were numb with cold, but they didn’t see any more shooting stars.
As they got up to go inside, his dad handed him the book.
Trevor shone the red light on the cover and squinted to read the print. “The Stars. Catchy title.”
“Give it a chance. That book is a good down to earth resource for finding your way through the heavens. We’ll have to think about getting you a telescope so you can really see the planets.”
It might be a good guide through the heavens, but Trevor doubted he’d be able to find his way through the book. It all seemed so technical. Brandon would probably love it.
He glanced at the shelter. Now the kittens had a place to sleep where they would be safe from dogs. The blanket was bunched around the opening, and the tips of two sets of ears poked above the folds. He tucked the star book under his arm and followed his dad inside.