Page 16 of Touch the Sky
“Is it the orange cat?” I ask.
She stares up at me with wide eyes and blinks a couple times before she nods.
I clap a hand to my chest and mime out being relieved. “Oh, good. That’s Citrouille. He’s the nice one. I was worried you met the scary one.”
Shel’s eyes get even wider.
“You have a scary cat?”
I nod and glance over both my shoulders like I’m making sure no one is lurking behind me.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, lowering my voice and leaning in closer. “The black one. His name is Monsieur Fromage.”
Shel scrunches her face up as she translates. “Does that mean…Mister…Cheese?”
I nod and make my voice even more sinister. “Yes, Mister Cheese.”
Shel giggles, and it’s hard not to break character and grin back at her. She’s got an adorable laugh. Her feet tapping has stopped, and she’s not gripping her legs so tight anymore.
“We call him that because the only way we can get him to do anything is by giving him cheese,” I explain. “He’s always climbing up trees and buildings and stuff, and he won’t come down without cheese. Sometimes he climbs up in the roof of the barn and jumps down on the horses and scares the sh?—”
I catch myself just in time and shoot Tess a guilty look, but she’s grinning too.
“Uh, scares the poop out of them,” I finish.
Shel lets her knees flop out to the side, the soles of her socked feet pressed together in a butterfly pose. She looks a thousand more times relaxed than when I first walked in the room, and my chest swells with a mix of pride and relief.
I can’t seem to stop making a fool out of myself in front of Tess, but at least I’m not totally hopeless at talking to her kid.
“He sounds funny,” Shel says.
I tap my chin. “You know, he is pretty funny. Maybe scary is a strong word. Maybe he’s just mischievous.”
I take a sip of my orange juice. It’s just plain old Tropicana, but after spending the whole morning and afternoon doing barn chores and leading a trail riding group all on my own, it tastes like heaven.
“We do have an evil donkey, though,” I say after I’ve swallowed another sip. “Now, he is true evil. I think he’s possessed by a demon.”
Shel’s jaw drops. “What?”
“Possibly by many demons.”
Mamanwalks over from the fridge and smacks me with a tea towel. “Jacinthe!”
I scowl at her and then give Shel another wink. “Okay, maybe just one demon.”
“Can I meet him?”
I gawk at her. “You want to meet the demon donkey?”
She’s bouncing her knees now, but she looks more excited than nervous.
“Yeah, he sounds cool.”
I cluck my tongue. “I tell you he’s possessed by evil spirits and you think he sounds cool? You sure you’re not possessed too, Shel?”
I lean in close and squint like I’m inspecting her for signs of demonic activity, which gets everybody laughing.
“I can take you to meet him if you want,” I offer. “He’s out in his field. We can throw him a carrot from a safe distance.”
