Rama the Gypsy Cat Read Online Free Page A

his father.
    His mother looked around. “Reckon where did he get it?”
    “I remember Frances saying there was gypsies out of town a ways,” Pa said slowly. “Maybe it was their cat.”
    “I bet you it was,” Ma said.
    All of them were impressed by the fact that the cat wore a golden earring. They were people who had only the barest necessities. There was no gay cloth or lace to brighten the woman’s life, no candy or treats for the boy, no soft boots for the man. And now here was a cat with a golden earring. The unexpected little frivolity brightened them.
    “I remember my granma had some gold earrings,” the woman said. “They had little red stones in them, and I always thought they was the prettiest things.”
    “But I bet you never saw no cat with an earring before,” the boy said.
    She smiled, shaking her head. “I never did.”
    “Well,” the father said after a moment. “There’s work to be done. We got to get that shed up, Son.”
    “I know.” Jimmy rose and looked down at the cat.
    His mother said, “I’ll watch him while you’re working. Maybe I can get him to take some warm milk.” She went and poured some milk into a cup and brought it to the fire.
    The boy watched as she dipped a small amount of milk into a spoon and held it to Rama. Carefully she let a few drops spill over on Rama’s mouth.
    But Rama did not move. The milk ran untasted onto the crumpled shirt beneath him.
    Jimmy’s mother looked up at him and waved him away with one hand. “Get going, Son, get your breakfast or it won’t be fit to eat.”
    He ate quickly beside his father and then went to the doorway. He stood for a moment with his knitted cap pulled over his ears, looking at the cat.
    “I’ll try the milk again in a bit,” she said. Without a word, Jimmy went out the door and joined his father beside the ashes of the old barn.
    All morning, while Jimmy helped haul logs from the forest, Rama lay by the fire without moving. The woman came often to touch his forehead, but he did not stir.
    At noon, when Jimmy came in to dinner, he said, “He looks a little better, don’t you think, Ma?” He took his plate to the fire and watched the cat while he ate.
    She looked at him and shook her head. “About the same, Son. He don’t seem to be noticing much.”
    “Pa, do you think he’ll live?” Jimmy asked after a moment. His father knew much about animals.
    “I wouldn’t count on it,” he said.
    Jimmy turned his face to the fire. “Well, he’s not going to die. He’s just not . That’s all.”
    His mother looked at him and then came and sat by him on the hearth. She smoothed her skirt over her legs. “You know what I was thinking about this morning?” she said. “I was thinking about the goat we had when I was a girl. One day this goat got in our shed and ate up ... I reckon he ate up more than a bushel of feed. And he lay there just like your cat for three days. Never moved, never even opened his eyes. Three days he lay there and then he just upped and walked away, good as new.” She laughed. “I never will forget that old goat.”
    “Animals do that sometimes,” Pa said. He rose from the table and crossed to where his son was sitting on the hearth. “Don’t let yourself care too much about the cat though, hear?”
    Wiping his sleeve quickly over his eyes, Jimmy said, “I don’t care too much, Pa, I really don’t. You ready to get back to work now?”
    Pa put a hand on Jimmy’s head and ruffled his hair without speaking.
    Jimmy laughed shakily. “I reckon the cow’s got to have a shed by tonight or we’ll have two sick animals to tend, huh, Pa?”
    “That’s about it.”
    Jimmy rose, looked down at Rama, and then said, “Ma?” in a pleading voice.
    “I’ll look after the cat,” she said.
    Jimmy put on his jacket, an old one that no longer covered his thin wrists, and went out the door behind his father. Although he was tall for his eleven years, he had the awkward lankiness of a colt, and