in his ankle-something had scratched him!
He backed away from it and looked down, feeling scared enough to pee his pajamas.
The cat hissed at him and bared its claws. Its eyes were shining in the dark. He tried to kick it. It screamed again, jiggled up the stairs making little crying noises.
What the hell was that!
Nothing, Christina, forget it.
That's-it sounded like Snowball-ohmigod!
It was nothing. Where do you think you're going!
He's hurt! Snowball, honey!
Oh, no, you don't. You-
Let go of me!
-can't start something and just-
Let go of me, you bastard. I have to find him!
I don't believe this. Once a year you-Ow, dammit!
(A grunt. Padded footsteps.)
Fine, just stay the hell out, you dumb cunt!
The footsteps got louder.
Snowball!
She was coming. He had to escape but his body was frozen. Oh, shit, he was caught. It was over. He was dead!
Snowball! C'mere, sweetie!
Move, feet, get unfrozen. Ohgod, finally they're warm again? running? can't breathe
Where are you, sweetheart?
She was out of the library, moving drunkenly up the stairs. Calling for the cat, so maybe she wouldn't hear him ten feet ahead of her, running, not breathing, pleasegod don't let her hear
Here, darling, here, puss. Come-a-here! Come-a-here to
Mama.
He made it to his room just as she came to the top of the stairs, threw himself in bed, and pulled the covers over himself.
Oh, Snowball-sweet, where are you? Don't hide, sugar-puss. Mama's got a treat for you!
She was in her room, coming out of it now, half-calling, half-singing: Pu-uss!
He was all wrapped up like the Mummy, grabbing the mattress to keep from shaking.
Puss? Sweetie?
He'd forgotten to close his door! She was coming near his room!
Snowball!
She was standing in the doorway. He could smell her, Bal a Versailles and gin. All of a sudden he had to hiccup. Holding it in was making his heart go crazy. He heard it swooshing in his ears, was sure she could hear it too.
Now where's my bad little boy?
Hiding, sorry, never do it again, promise promise.
C'mere, you bad boy.
No anger in her voice. Oh, no! Oh, God!
Bad little lover bo-oy!
Saved. She wasn't talking to him!
Pu-uss!
Swoosh, swoosh, like it was going to slide all the way up into his brain and start shooting blood all over the inside of his skull and he'd choke on it and die.
She kept standing in the doorway, calling inthat drunken, shaky, opera-singer voice
Kissy, kbsy, Snowball. If you're hurt, Mama will make it all better!
The roar in his head was louder than ever. He was biting down on his lip to keep the sound from coming out.
Come-a-here! Mama's got a treat for you-your favey-fave, tuna!
The voice was far away, getting farther and farther. The danger had passed. A moment later she was saying Snowball! Sweetheart!, making disgusting,, sloppy noises that let him know she'd found the fucking animal, was kissing it.
