My Brother's Keeper by Patricia McCormick

Author:Patricia McCormick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Disney Publishing Worldwide
Published: 2005-03-06T05:00:00+00:00

After I’m done, I bring the Citrus Magic into the den for Jake, who’s sitting on the floor playing with Mr. Furry. Some hip-hop song is on MTV, and Jake has Mr. Furry standing up on her hind legs, holding on to her front paws, making her dance in time with the music.

“Mr. Furry,” he says. “The J.Lo of cats.”

He pulls her paws back and forth and makes her hips swivel, which I have to admit actually makes her look like a short, hairy Jennifer Lopez with a tail.

When he sees me watching, he makes Mr. Furry take a bow.

I smile, sort of, even though I don’t want him to think I’ve forgotten about him and his friends practically getting me imprisoned for life. But it also cracks me up seeing Mr. Furry, who’s so stuck-up, looking so miserable.

Then the front door opens and our mom and Eli walk in carrying bags of groceries. I jump up, shove the Citrus Magic under the couch, and go to help my mom put the food away.

I’m stacking up the cans of tuna next to the boxes of Tuna Helper, when my mom wrinkles her nose. “It smells in here,” she says.

I don’t move.

She sniffs. She looks around the kitchen, her eyebrows all scrunched up.

“It smells like oranges,” she says, looking at me. “Toby, were you two drinking Sunkist before dinner?”

I pretend I don’t hear her.

“Toby?” she says.

I swallow.

Then Jake calls out to her from the den. “Hey, Ma!” he says. “C’mere. Watch this.”

“Mommy,” yells Eli. “Come look.”

She gives up on being Sherlock Holmes and goes into the den. I follow her. Jake’s on the floor making Mr. Furry do a ghetto move where you wag your fingers in time with music and Eli’s trying to make rap sounds but is mainly just spitting.

I look over at my mom, who isn’t a big rap fan, but she’s smiling.

I edge up next to her. “Mr. Furry,” I say. “The J.Lo of cats.” She rolls her eyes, but you can tell it cracks her up. She shakes her head and goes back into the kitchen.

When she’s gone, I walk across the room and turn the Implosion picture faceup. Then I flop down onto the couch, even though what I really want to do is lie down in my bunk and curl up into a fetal position and go to sleep for the rest of my life.

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