Jumpstart the World Read Online Free Page B

purring.
    Not at anybody or anything in particular. Just huddled there with his front legs all tucked under him, purring.
    Then I thought about Frank.
    Or maybe it would be better to say I felt about him. Felt something. Something weird.
    But that little uneasy something was probably just about school looming. The Frank thing was fine. He was my friend. A nice new friend. I really liked him, sure. Who wouldn’t? But just as a friend. Anything else would be pointless and stupid. And completely embarrassing.
    So that’s what I felt. Exactly what I said I felt.
    I just really liked Frank as a friend.
    Toto was still sitting there purring. I reached out to touch him. Or, I guess this would be a more accurate way to put it: I gave my hand a nerve signal to move, and before it even could, Toto sensed what was coming and split.
    I just lay there, thinking, Well, that was nice while it lasted.
    After that, I stuck my head out the window a lot, to see if Frank was sitting out on the fire escape. But he had school four nights a week.
    Molly said he was working as a veterinary technician all day and then going to school to be a veterinarian at night. I ran into her in the hall one day, and she told me that. She said it would take him a long time.
    I took it kind of hard. Hearing that he wasn’t around much. But then again, I don’t have tons and tons of friends. And only one ever offered to look after me. Even my mother isn’t entirely committed to that.
    It took me five days to find him out there.
    When I did, I crawled out.
    “Hey, kiddo,” he said.
    “Hi, Frank.”
    Then I felt kind of awkward and couldn’t think what to say.
    We just sat quietly for a while.
    It was a Sunday, late afternoon, and still mostly light. The light was just barely starting to fade. The traffic was pretty thin, being the weekend. But you could still always hear sirens. Always. That’s one thing you can count on in the city. There will always be some disaster going on somewhere.
    Right underneath us on the street, there was some kind oftrouble going on. Some guy in a raggedy old trench coat running around yelling at everybody. Telling them to get off his street. If they didn’t go, he’d run at them, waving his arms like a madman, and then they’d get scared and run away.
    Frank and I just sat and watched this for a while.
    “Who is that guy?” I asked. “Do you know?”
    “Oh, yeah. We all know him. His name is Harry. The neighbors call him Crazy Harry. He’s not exactly crazy, though. He has schizophrenia. So long as he takes his meds, he’s fine. But sometimes he stops taking them. I don’t know why. I guess nobody really knows why. I think a lot of people who need to be on psych meds do that from time to time. But I’m not sure anybody really knows why. Then he’s all different. When he’s off his meds, he never washes himself, and then after a while he starts thinking he owns the street. Then some family member or social worker or somebody comes by and gets him back on his meds. Then he’s just the nicest, quietest neighbor you could possibly want. For months.”
    “Is he a homeless guy?”
    “No, he lives in that rent-controlled building across the street. If you saw him when he was on his meds, you wouldn’t think he was homeless. He looks clean. Normal, just like anybody else.”
    We were quiet for a little while longer, watching Harry chase people off his street.
    “How’s the cat getting along?” Frank asked.
    “Well, better. I guess. For him, anyway. But, better for Toto is still pretty lame.”
    “Toto, huh?”
    “Oh, right. I didn’t tell you what I named him.”
    “Interesting choice,” he said.
    “Long story,” I said.
    We sat there for a few minutes longer, each on our own little piece of fire escape. It was getting dusky now, the time I like best in the city.
    Crazy Harry was running up and down the empty street, making sure none of the people he’d chased off could sneak back again.
    I had a really bad