The second time I woke up the next day, it was from knowing what I should have said to Ma on the bus.

It rang through my head like a shot in the woods.

I wanted to race downstairs and call her from the pay phone, but she’d made me promise something when she’d woken me up earlier. “You can stay here today,” she’d whispered, “if you swear you won’t go downstairs.”

“Huh?” It was dark and cold in the apartment. It felt like the middle of the night.

“I have to catch the bus. Now swear it, unless you want me draggin’ you along.”

She was leavin’ for work? How could it be time to leave already? My whole body felt sore from the day before. Sore and tired. Like I needed to sleep for days.

“Swear,” she whispered louder. “Swear or get your shoes on this instant.”

“I swear,” I said, and I meant it.

All two words of it.

Then I went back to sleep and stayed that way for another four hours, which is when I woke up with the shot of knowledge ringing through my head.

I stumbled to the kitchen sink for a drink of water, and after slurpin’ upside down at the faucet, I found a note on the table. A note outlining things I was to do and not do.

Nowhere on the Don’t list was sleep all day, so I fell back into bed, thinking that at least I wasn’t breaking any rules. And then I just lay there, wishing I could go downstairs and call Ma.

I needed to tell her what I should have said on the bus.

After frettin’ about it for a while, I decided I’d write her a note. I’d get the words just right and hand them to her when she got home. But try as I might, I couldn’t get the words even close to right. I went through page after page trying, but it kept coming out wrong. How could I write whole stories but not a little note?

Finally I gave it a rest and tended to the list Ma had made. I wiped down the counter, swept the floors, scrubbed the toilet, cleaned the mirror, and picked up around the place.

Then I ate a peanut butter sandwich and got caught up in thinkin’ about Ma.

Why was I so bad at saying this?

Maybe I was using too many words.

Maybe I should make her a list instead.

Yeah, a list!

So I got busy with that, only to discover it made what I was trying to say doubly dorky.

So I ripped it up, too, and went back to Ma’s list.

Fix Carol Graves a plate and take it to her popped out at me. I figured chances were slim to none that Carol Graves would answer the door, so I didn’t get fancy fixin’ the plate. I just shoveled some Brookside Thanksgiving leftovers on and took it over.

I knocked on the door, bang, bang, bang, holding the plate away so no flakes of paint landed in the food.

I waited, then put my ear up to the door, wondering if I’d get a peek at One-Eyed Jack. Just the thought made my heart speed up. Made me remember—One-Eyed Jack might be telepathic!

So I tried again, bang, bang, bang, and this time when I listened, I could hear coughing. A slow, grinding kind of cough. Like someone tryin’ to turn over a motor when the battery’s about dead.

I knocked again and was fixin’ to call out, “Just deliverin’ Thanksgiving supper!” but changed my mind as the words were set to launch. “Delivery from Shop-Wise Grocers!” I called. “Need you to sign!”

It came out sounding all leprechaun-y, too.

My ear told me the coughing was getting closer. Very slowly closer. I also heard, “Coming,” but it was feeble as could be. Nothing admiral-y about it.

When the door finally opened, Mrs. Graves was panting hard and didn’t even seem to care that she’d been tricked. I was expecting to have to do some fancy talking, or even stick my foot in to keep the door from slamming in my face, but she took one look at me and started shufflin’ back the way she’d come, still coughing.

“I brought you a Thanksgiving meal,” I said, following her to her sunny spot by the window. The Mirror Cats were coming out to see me, mewing like they wanted the food themselves. I looked around for Jack but didn’t see him. “You want me to heat it up?” I asked.

She was in her seat now, coughing away. I waited for an answer, but I think it was too hard for her to cough and nod.

There were lots of cups and mugs on the coffee table near her, and thinking that one might have something she could drink to help with the coughing, I checked them over and saw mold floating inside them.

I raced to the kitchen and fetched some fresh water from the tap. When I delivered it to her, she was too shaky to hold the cup herself, so I held it up for her and let her sip until she pushed it away.

“Are you okay?” I asked, though it was pretty easy to see she wasn’t.

She nodded. “Take Jack home with you.”

Her voice was so little I could barely hear her, and I was sure I’d heard her wrong. “Ma’am?”

“Jack. Take him home. The others will kill him.”

Kill him?

The Mirror Cats were right there beside us, meowing and flicking their tails, but I still didn’t see Jack.

“Where is he?”

“Hiding. Promise me you’ll take him.”

I nodded. “Are they hungry?” I asked, watching the Mirror Cats.

“They have food.”

“How about you?” I took in all the dishes beside her. Most were scary gross with mold. “I’ll heat up the food I brought.”

She nodded like she barely cared and closed her eyes.

I went to the kitchen, keeping my eyes peeled for Jack. “Here, kitty,” I called, but that just brought the Mirror Cats closer, mewing at my feet.

I took the plate I’d brought, put it inside the microwave that was buried in the corner of her counter, and set the timer at only one minute. I’d learned from Gloria that oldies like their food warm, but barely. If you heat it so you think it’s just right, they’ll scream that their mouth is on fire.

Or spit it back at you.

While the microwave was going, I checked the cat zone and found that the food-and-water tower was knocked over. The Mirror Cats were right there, crying, so I set the tower up and got it working again. “There you go,” I told them, and when they pounced in to eat, I took up calling for Jack. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

I couldn’t find him anywhere, so I went back to the microwave, and as I was pulling out the plate, I felt him standing alongside me.

He wasn’t touching me, I just knew he was there.

“Hey, fella,” I said, stooping down with a piece of turkey in my hand. He had claw marks scabbed across his muzzle and some newer blood on his side. “Here you go, boy,” I said, tearing off little pieces of turkey and placing them on the floor.

When he’d finished, I took him and the plate over to Mrs. Graves, along with a cup of juice. She was sound asleep, and every breath she took gurgled. Her lips were cracked and her eyes looked crusted. It was like she was drowning and drying out, all at the same time.

“Ma’am?” I said, sitting in a chair beside her. “You need to eat something.” When she didn’t answer, I nudged her. “Ma’am? Please. At least have some juice.”

“Just leave it,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine.”

I watched her falling back to sleep and nudged her again. “Ma’am? I think I should get you to the hospital.”

“No,” she gurgled. “Just leave me here in the sun. It’s what I want.” She opened her eyes to see Jack sitting on my lap. “But take him with you. He deserves someone like you. Take anything you need. There’s food.”

“Can you try to eat?” I begged. “Just a bite or two?”

She shook her head. “Maybe in a little while.” She closed her eyes, and the wrinkles on her face smoothed away. “Come back then.”

She was falling asleep again, so I stood and said, “I will.”

Then I tucked a blanket over her and leaned in, whispering, “Sweet dreams.”