Chapter 5

Rifle Range Poker Run

Later in the week, Charlie and I are relaxing after school in his bedroom when I hear the front door open and slam shut. Charlie has his headphones on, and he doesn’t move. I jump down off of the bed and walk to the hallway so I can peek over the balcony.

It’s Victoria and Aidan.

Aidan is a young man who is interested in Victoria. He has been to the house a lot lately, especially in the afternoons. There is a gap between the time the children get home from school and Mother arrives from work. Aidan drives Victoria here in a small red car.

Aidan sneers at everything, and I avoid him. He is an outsider, with shifty eyes. I run from him, because I don’t want him to even know I am here.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not afraid of him. I just don’t like him. I suspect he might be the type of human who thinks cats are pests.

Charlie and Kevin feel the same way I do about Aidan. They stay away from him, as far as possible. Victoria knows how we all feel about him.

But the fact that we don’t like Aidan doesn’t seem to worry Victoria. She is fond of him. She focuses on him in a way I’ve never seen her act before around another human. Her face takes on a radiant tone when he is near, her eyes bright and satisfied.

I’m really not sure what she sees in him. He smells strange to me.

I watch as Victoria slips off her light coat and hangs it on the stair railing. She takes off her shoes and places them neatly on the mat by the front door.

Dad used to yell at the children all the time to keep their things neat. Kevin and Victoria took this advice to heart. Perhaps they were sick of the nagging and decided it would be easier to just follow orders.

Charlie, on the other hand, does not always remember to put his things where they belong. I see his black sneakers lying in the middle of the hallway downstairs.

“Take off your sneakers,” Victoria says.

Aidan hesitates, and rolls his eyes, but then does it.

Victoria and Aidan are involved in a complex mating ritual. I know something about mating, having seen it up close in nature every spring.

Birds. Squirrels. Neighborhood cats. You name it, I’ve seen it.

Mating is not something I have any interest in personally. I’m not sure why. But I recognize the instinct in others.

Although I don’t like Aidan at all, I’ve been watching him from a distance, fascinated. I am trying to pinpoint why and how Aidan makes Victoria happy, but I haven’t quite figured it out yet.

Often, the two of them sit at opposite ends of the living room couch, as if trying not to get too close. It’s an old green couch, and the material is frayed on the armrests. But the cushions are soft and comfortable. Victoria studies, a textbook open on her lap. Aidan plays with his phone. And he drinks the family soda, draining can after can.

Aidan will watch Victoria with a stealthy patience, his face turning pink with the damp warmth of the room now that it is spring. He’ll strip off his sweatshirt and push the sleeves of his T-shirt up over his shoulders. But when Victoria glances at him, his face is already turning away, as if he doesn’t want to get caught looking at her.

Sometimes Victoria will slide across the couch to get closer to him. She tugs at the rope cord tied around his wrist, or glides two fingers over the hair on his lower arm. Aidan turns his head slightly toward her, and pretends to be distracted by the noises coming from his phone. “What?” he’ll demand, as if she’s interrupting something important.

But I know he listens to her every word. I watch him closely, tracking his eye movements, the flush of his cheek, the pace of his breath.

Everything about Victoria interests him. I look at her to see what he sees.

The way the rings on Victoria’s fingers, all silver, flash when a beam of sunlight hits them through the window. The way she gracefully moves her hands to adjust the textbook on her lap, nails painted blue and perfectly round. The way her necklace falls just so, against the soft part of her neck. The color of her lipstick, dark red like a bruise.

I know Aidan notices all of these things, the way I do, and is mystified by them. Sometimes he bites his thumb, or taps his foot, and I can almost feel his anxiety traveling through the wooden floorboards.

Victoria knows she has an effect on him. But I suspect she does not understand the extent of it.

I believe from what I’ve seen that Aidan is in love. But he tries to hide it. He snaps at her, and ignores her sometimes. Perhaps he is nervous about the way he feels. I’m sure it is scary when a young human falls in love. It must feel sharp and unfamiliar.

It is as if Aidan is holding his breath, trapping his love tight inside him. Maybe he is afraid it will suddenly spill out into the open, and become a thing not easily controlled.

Once the two of them are settled in the living room and seated on their favorite couch, I feel a pang of thirst and make my way down to the kitchen for a drink of water from my bowl. The water is cool and soothing on my throat.

On my way back to Charlie, I peek into the living room and glance over at Aidan and Victoria for a moment. I sit right in the doorway. Aidan sees me and scowls. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t think he likes me. But I’m not afraid. I wish he and Victoria would end this nonsense and he would just leave, once and for all.

Victoria has always been kind to me. While her exterior may look tough, and she likes to be in charge, I know her heart is in the right place. Maybe this is why she likes Aidan—she wants to take care of him. He is like a scruffy dog she picked up at the kennel. Perhaps she thinks she can fix whatever is wrong with him.

Aidan reaches up to run his fingers over Victoria’s ear. I have never seen him kiss her, but he sometimes works up his courage and touches her when she sits close enough for him to do so. Victoria has several pieces of metal attached to her earlobe. I’m often tempted to bat at them with my paw. So I can’t blame Aidan for wanting to play with her ear. But Victoria swats his hand away. So instead he takes one of the little braids she has woven into her long dark hair in his hand, and runs his fingers down that instead.

Today, Victoria is busy reading and typing things into her laptop. She ignores Aidan, who looks around the room, bored.

I hear someone coming down the stairs, and as he rounds the corner, I see it is Kevin in his uniform. It is a special kind of clothing he sometimes wears, tan with little patches all over it.

Kevin startles when he sees Aidan, and freezes. But he manages to collect himself and stand up straight.

Aidan screws up his mouth and takes a quick glance at Victoria, seeming to weigh his options. I think sometimes he views Kevin and Charlie as entertainment. They are lesser creatures he can torment.

Aidan runs his tongue over his teeth. “Nice uniform,” he mumbles. But from the tone of his voice, I can tell he means the opposite. Kevin knows it too, from the way his face falls.

“I’m going rifle shooting,” Kevin announces, a little too loud.

“Good for you.” Aidan’s voice is even and slow. “Going to kill some furry small animals?”

Victoria finally picks her head up, pulling her attention away from her phone, and shoots Aidan a dirty look. “Shut up.” She smacks Aidan on the arm.

Kevin hesitates. “Um, no. We don’t shoot animals. We just aim at cards, like out of a deck of cards? It’s a competition, called the Rifle Range Poker Run.”

Aidan nods eagerly, as if this is just what he expected. “Wow. Shooting and gambling. Doesn’t sound very Scout-like.”

Aidan has Victoria’s full attention now. Her body turns toward him, and she gives him an icy stare. “SHUT UP.”

“It’s not gamb—Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” Kevin walks to the front window and looks out.

“Why wouldn’t I understand? Because I’m not Scout material?” Aidan sounds very amused at this point. “I wanna shoot things too. You think I should apply?”

Kevin opens his mouth and shuts it, as if he is going to answer, but thinks better of it. “My ride’s here,” he says with relief, as he yanks open the door and practically runs out.

I don’t blame Kevin for running away. I’d run away from Aidan too.

“Why do you have to be such an ass?” Victoria sits up straight and slaps his hand as she waits for her answer.

Aidan just looks away. He has heavy-lidded eyes and often looks sleepy. But I can tell he’s calculating what to say to her next.

“So.” He turns back to Victoria and starts playing with one of her braids again. “You’re going with me to Dave’s party on Friday night?”

Now it’s Victoria’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I can’t. You know I can’t. My dad’s got me, and Friday nights we always go out to this diner in Ipswich for supper. It’s our tradition.”

Aidan scoffs. “It’s your tradition? Your dad just moved out a couple of months ago. That’s hardly a tradition.”

Victoria has no answer to this. She just shrugs.

“Okay. Whatever.” Aidan removes his hand from her hair. “Blow me off. But I’m not going by myself.” He slides his own phone out of his pocket and starts pressing buttons. “Maybe Jen will go with me. Or Bunny.”

Victoria grits her teeth. “Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah, I’m serious.” Aidan concentrates on his phone. “I told you, I’m not going by myself. Dave’s party is go big or go home. I’m not going alone, like a loser.”

The old grandfather clock in the hall chimes four times. I wish it would chime five times, because then Aidan would go home, and we could eat dinner. I lean forward to lick my front paws. I prefer my fur clean and bright, like butter right out of the wrapper. And, to be honest, Aidan is making me nervous.

When I look up, Victoria is reaching forward to gently push Aidan’s phone away from him. “Alright. Just . . . just wait. Let me talk to my mom. Let me see what I can do.”

Aidan smirks. He’s won. Again.

I have noticed that he usually wins arguments.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Victoria scowls and gets up.

“Bring me back a soda,” Aidan calls after her. He watches her go. “Something with caffeine. And ice too.”

“Get it yourself,” she yells back at him.

When she leaves the room, I study Aidan. I can’t figure it out: Why does Victoria like him?

He has wide-set eyes, a broad forehead, and dark hair. There is something in his face that is essentially unhappy, no matter what day of the week he visits. Sometimes I’ll catch him staring at nothing, and he will flinch with a memory. I wonder what else is happening in his life to cause him such torment.

When he sees me staring at him, and we make eye contact, I think that Aidan looks very dark. What I mean is: as if he thinks evil thoughts. He is a creature that could turn on you, like a mouse that you think you have caught and killed, but then suddenly turns and sinks his sharp teeth into your paw.

Aidan and I get into a staring contest. I finally blink first.

Humans staring at me make me uncomfortable.

I hear a rustling upstairs, and my ears prick up. It’s Charlie, moving around. He probably has his headphones on again, and doesn’t know Aidan is here.

I don’t want Charlie to come down. Aidan isn’t very nice to Charlie.

Aidan comes over a lot lately, so perhaps Charlie should assume he’s here. But Aidan is a new visitor, and this is Charlie’s home. I can’t blame Charlie if he forgets to be careful in his own home.

I hear the bed creaking, and the sink running, and then footsteps coming down the stairs.

My heart starts beating faster.

Oh, Charlie—

No, no, Charlie, I think, my whiskers tingling. Don’t come down the stairs. Go back.

But it is too late. Charlie appears on the bottom stair. He is studying his nails, which I see he has painted black. The scent of the polish is faint, but I have a powerful sense of scent, and it stings my nose. Charlie smiles absentmindedly at his work.

I stand up on all four paws, to get his attention. I prance toward him.

Go back, Charlie. Quickly.

Charlie sees me out of the corner of his eye, and I think he is going to talk to me. But he freezes when he sees Aidan. His face goes pale.

I follow his gaze, and we both see Aidan has his head down and he is playing with his phone again. Perhaps he has not seen Charlie.

Charlie begins to move very slowly, turning toward the kitchen. I realize he is trying to get by without Aidan noticing him. Charlie moves with the stealth of a cat, and I think he will get away with it.

I decide to create a distraction. I run and leap up onto the coffee table next to Aidan, crying out a loud rowr! so he’s forced to look at me.

Aidan does look, and he is startled. But he quickly turns back to Charlie.

And only then do I realize he knew Charlie was there all along.

“Hey, fruitcake,” Aidan greets him, just as Charlie is about to disappear, out of sight, down the hall. “Where are you sneaking off to?”

Charlie stops, and turns. I watch him force his chin up.

“I’m just getting a glass of water,” Charlie says, keeping his voice even.

Aidan looks Charlie over, from head to toe. “What did you do to your nails?” Aidan makes a tsking sound with his tongue. “Does your sister know you used her nail polish? I hate to be a tattletale, but . . .”

Charlie glances down at his hands. “She doesn’t care,” Charlie blurts out. “I mean, she lets me use it. She knows I borrowed it.” He turns to go.

“Wow. What a great sister you have. She lets you be you. Weird, wonderful you.” Aidan’s voice drips with sarcasm.

Charlie pauses. He presses his lips together and then turns to go again.

“Hey, wait,” Aidan calls out, as Charlie disappears down the hall. “Can you get me a soda while you’re in the kitchen? Thanks, buddy.”

I leap down from the coffee table and run to catch up with Charlie. He stands in the middle of the kitchen with tears in his eyes. I throw my body up against his ankles. When he doesn’t respond, I stand on my back legs with my front paws on his legs, stretch upwards, and gaze at him until he reaches down to stroke my soft fur. I hope it calms him down.

Charlie looks at the back screen door, and I know what he’s thinking.

Should he walk out to avoid having to talk to Aidan again?

Flee from his own home?

Charlie shouldn’t have to fetch Aidan drinks. Nor should he have to suffer being tormented in his own house. Someone is already hurting him at school.

How many places are there where he can go and feel safe?

Charlie takes a deep breath, and with a last glance at me, goes out the back. He pulls the door shut quietly behind him. I wish I knew where he was going, but I don’t follow him. I give him some space.

I wish I could tell someone Charlie’s secret. Someone is hurting him at school, and Aidan is causing him pain here at home, where he should be able to relax. This isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.

I’ve decided: Aidan has to go. And if I have to, I’m going to be the one to get rid of him.