Hey, Diary!
School’s out! And I get to stay up later now. I went to the flying field with Jimmy and his Dad after supper tonight, and they let me fly his plane, and I even got to land it, only I kind of messed up, ’cause it went over on its nose and the engine stopped. I was afraid I broke it, but Jimmy just laughed and said he used to do that lots of times. He made me try again right away, ’cause he said it’s like when you fall off a horse you have to get right back on, or you’ll always be afraid later on. I know that’s a cliché, but I guess it’s true, ’cause when I tried to land the next time I was so nervous I was afraid to push the joystick that makes the plane come down, and it overshot the end of the field and fell into some weeds, only that was okay, because the weeds were soft so nothing got broken that time either. And Jimmy said, “See? You didn’t hurt it. So try again.” And guess what? The next time I tried it, I put that old plane right down in the middle of the field, and it only bounced once - well, maybe twice - and Mr. Morris told me I was a “natural,” whatever that means.
Maggie seemed really strange today. She’s been prowling around the house, trying to get into the closets and acting kind of restless. I let her out when I got home from flying with Jimmy, but I guess she did her business real quick because she came back inside right away. Dad got mad at her ’cause she was snooping around in his den, and he hates that, so I took her upstairs and put her in my room, and right away she scratched at my closet door as if she wanted to go in, so I opened it for her and she went inside and sort of poked at my stuff on the floor, so I shoved things around to make space for her and she sat down and started to wash. I waited a while and then tried to coax her out, but she just curled her feet under her chest and looked at me. I swear, I think she wanted me to close the closet door. If I did, at least she wouldn’t be able to go downstairs and bother Dad, but I was afraid if she couldn’t get out, she might pee in there.
Mom says I have to keep Maggie out of Dad’s way. He’s been home all week, during the day and at night too, but he and Mom aren’t talking much. They don’t even look at each other unless they have to. I get the idea something happened between Dad and that woman at the university, but I’m not going to ask. That’s between them, Mom and Dad, I mean, only it’s worse for me now because they’re so tense all the time, as if they’re afraid whatever they say will start a fight. I just keep quiet when they’re around each other so I don’t set them off.
I think it may be my fault that Dad never wants to be around here much. I must have done something wrong.
Anyway, I went downstairs and found Mom in the kitchen. She’s almost never in the same room as my father if she can help it.
“Mom, is Maggie sick?” I asked her.
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“She’s acting kind of funny.”
“Funny how? Did you let her out?”
“Uh, huh, and she did her business and came right back in. She ate her supper, though, so I guess maybe she’s feeling okay.”
“She doesn’t look like she misses many meals,” Mom said. “She’s twice as fat as when you found her.” And then she got this funny look on her face, as if she’d just thought of something.
“That’s probably because the college students who had her didn’t feed her very well,” I said.
“What makes you think there’s something wrong?” Mom asked.
“She’s upstairs in my closet. She was scratching on the door like she wanted to go in, and she’s never done that before, so I opened it and now she won’t come out.”
“Uh, oh,” Mom said.
“What? What’s the matter?”
“I think I might know what her problem is. Look, you go upstairs and get that old blanket out of the linen closet. You know which one I mean? The faded yellow one with the cornflowers on it.”
“What’ll I do with it?”
“Spread it out on the closet floor for her so she can make herself a nest.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “She always sleeps on my bed.”
“I don’t think she will tonight,” Mom said.
“How come? Mom, tell me!”
“I’d better not. Maybe I’m wrong, and if I am, you’ll be disappointed. Anyway, it won’t hurt to put the blanket down for her.”
“I hate it when you do this!” I said, meaning when she kept things from me, but I didn’t really. She was sort of excited and she looked almost happy for the first time in a really long time, and that made me happy and excited too.
“Get going now,” she said. “I’ll be up in a minute to see how she is.”
I ran upstairs and dug around until I found the blanket, and Maggie was still on the floor in my closet, and when Mom came up she helped me fold it into a soft pad and spread it out, and right away Maggie sat on it and began to push it around with her paws.
“She’s making bread,” Mom said. “She wants to make herself a soft bed.”
“What’s ‘making bread’?” I asked.
“That’s an old saying of your grandma’s to describe how cats poke at a blanket, as if they were kneading dough.”
“Why does she do it?” I asked.
“You’ll see. Maybe by tomorrow morning, if I’m right. Now close the door almost all the way. Leave it open just far enough for her to come out if she wants to.”
I did what she told me, even though I didn’t know why. Mom said I should stay away from her when she’s in the closet.
I wish I knew what’s going on.