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Show Twisters . . . 41 gurgling that way, I could see why Mom liked him so much. That was when I remembered Minerva. My cat! Oh no! Had she followed us downstairs? But a cat would find a place-wouldn't she? - t o ride out the storm. Cats are smart. They can take care of themselves. She's all right! I convinced myself because I couldn't bear to think otherwise. The hard, peppering sounds of the hail were growing slushier, softer. The hail was turning to rain. Quickly, I slipped the blanket off my head. The night sky was there, all right, where the top of the shower should have been. Icy raindrops splatted in my face and went streaking down my neck. I didn't mind. After what we'd been through, a little rain was nothing. "Arthur-" I nudged him with my foot "-look up there." He pulled the blanket off and tipped back his head. We sat there, blinking at the black square above us as the blanket bobbed up and down over Ryan. |