More Mystery Cats by Cynthia Manson

More Mystery Cats by Cynthia Manson

Author:Cynthia Manson [Manson, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0451176898
Publisher: Signet
Published: 1993-08-31T21:00:00+00:00


ANIMALS

by Clark Howard

As Ned Price got off the city bus at the corner of his block, he saw that Monty and his gang of troublemakers were, as usual, loitering in front of Shavelson’s Drugstore. A large portable radio—they called it their “ghetto blaster”—was sitting atop a newspaper vending machine, playing very loud acid rock. The gang, six of them, all in their late teens, appeared to be arguing over the contents of a magazine that was circulating among them.

Ned started down the sidewalk. An arthritic limp made him favor his right leg. That, coupled with lumbago and sixty-two years of less than easy living, gave him an overall stooped, tired look. A thrift-shop sportcoat slightly too large didn’t help matters. Ned could have crossed the street and gone around Monty and his friends, but he lived on this side of the street so he would just have to cross back again farther down the block. It was difficult enough to get around these days without taking extra steps. Besides, he figured he had at least as much right to walk down the sidewalk as they did to obstruct it.

When Ned got closer, he saw the magazine the gang was passing around was Ring and that their argument had to do with the relative merits of two boxers named Hector “Macho” Camacho and Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini. Maybe they’d be too caught up in their argument to hassle him today. That would be a welcome change. A day without having to match wits with this year’s version of the Sharks.

But no such luck.

“Hey, old man, where you been?” Monty asked as Ned approached. “Down to pick up your check?” He stepped in the middle of the sidewalk and blocked the way.

Ned stopped. “Yes,” he said, “I’ve been down to pick up my check.”

“You’re one of those old people who don’t let the mailman bring their check, huh?” Monty asked with a smile. “You know there’s too many crooks in this neighborhood. You’re smart, huh?”

“No, just careful,” Ned said. If I was smart, he thought, I would have crossed the street.

“Hey, lemme ask you something,” Monty said with mock seriousness. “I seen on a TV special where some old people don’t get enough pension to live on an’ they eat dogfood and catfood. Do you do that, old man?”

“No, I don’t,” Ned replied. There was a slight edge to his answer this time. He knew several people who did resort to the means Monty had just described.

“Listen, old man, I think you’re lying,” Monty said without rancor. “I myself have seen you in Jamail’s Grocery buying catfood.”

“That’s because I have a cat.” Ned tried to step around Monty but the youth moved and blocked his way again.

“You got a cat, old man? Ain’t that nice?” Monty feigned interest. “Wha’ kind of cat you got, old man?”

“Just an ordinary cat,” Ned said. “Nothing special.”

“Not a Persian or a Siamese or one of them expensive cats?”

“No. Just an ordinary cat. A tabby, I think it’s called.



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