Sara Lost and Found (21 page)

“I don't know,” she admits. “Let's ask Dad.” She leans over and taps his shoulder. Mr. Anderson turns down the radio and looks at her in the rearview mirror.

“You tapped?”

“Dad. Are old people's homes owned by the old people?”

“They can be, but they generally aren't. They're usually privately owned businesses. Why?”

“Because we want to plan something that involves people in old people's homes, and we were wondering if we needed to have Congress pass a law or something.”

Her dad smiles. “No. But you would have to get permission from the individual facilities.”

“How many old people's homes are there in Oakview?”

“First of all, ladies, the more politically correct name for old people is either ‘seniors' or ‘elderly,' ” he explains. “And the places they live are more commonly called ‘senior residence centers' or ‘convalescent homes.' As for how many of them there are in Oakview, I don't really know. Probably a dozen. Maybe even two.” He rounds a curve, and I lean hard toward Lexie. The seat belt tightens against me.

Both of us groan. “This is going to be a lot more work than we thought.”

I shift my weight, trying to get comfortable, just as Mr. Anderson turns into the radio station's parking lot.

I look across the car at Lexie. “If it means someone has a kitten and a kitten has a home, I think it's worth it. Don't you?”

“Depends.”

She never says what it depends on, and my thoughts turn to the interview. How can something that makes so much sense—helping kittens and lonely people—turn into something so hard to do?

*  *  *

Heather White helps us relax by giving us cookies and milk. Then she shows us some of the questions she's going to ask. I just nod a lot, not wanting anyone to realize I can't read fast enough to know the questions she's showing us. Before long, it's time to go on the air.

“Good luck, girls,” Mr. Anderson whispers, hugging Lexie and giving me a big smile. “Just be yourselves. You'll do great.”

Lexie grabs my hands in hers and squeezes tight. “A Cause for Paws,” she whispers.

“A Cause for Paws,” I whisper back.

Heather leads us into the studio, puts our headsets on, and tests our voices. As each of us speaks, she raises and lowers levers on what she calls an equalizer until she is satisfied that everything sounds just right.

Like magic, music comes on, making it sound like something really special is about to happen. As the music starts to fade, Heather smiles brightly at us and winks.

“Thank you for joining us today on ‘A Closer Look.' I'm your host, Heather White, and with me today are two delightful guests with a heartfelt cause. I hope you'll listen to what they have to say and offer them support. I'm leaving the phone lines open, so feel free to call with questions, comments, or suggestions. The number to call is 555-KUNV.

“Our special guests today are Sara Olson and Lexie Anderson, organizers and cofounders of A Cause for Paws—a humanitarian club made up of kids working hard to improve the quality of life for the strays in our neighborhoods. Welcome, ladies.”

“Thank you,” we say together, and stifle our giggles. Lexie looks as nervous as I feel.

“Now, then. Your club sounds great, but what exactly do you do?” Heather focuses first on me.

“Well, we started A Cause for Paws because we wanted to do something about all the stray cats in our neighborhood. When people don't have their cats fixed,” I add, relaxing a little, “the cats have kittens. Then the kittens grow up and have kittens, and those kittens grow up to have more kittens. . . .”

“Whose job do you think it is to care for and feed all those unwanted animals?” Heather asks Lexie.

Lexie leans closer to the microphone and shoots an uneasy glance toward me. She knows I bristle at the word “unwanted.”

“I think it's the job of the people who didn't take care of their cats.”

“In other words, you would place the responsibility on the cat owners?”

Lexie nods. Heather covers her microphone and whispers, “Remember to talk, not nod. People can't see you.”

“Yes,” Lexie blurts. “The problem is the cat owners.”

“So, your club is trying to fix the existing problem of all these unwanted kittens running around, and prevent the problem from happening again. That's a pretty tall order.”

“These kittens aren't unwanted,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Maybe people who want them just don't know how to get them.”

Lexie beams at me. It turns out to be the perfect lead-in for announcing our plan.

“What do you think can be done?” Heather asks.

Both of us talk at once. “We have this idea,” Lexie says.

“It's in the early stages,” I add. “But if we could get someone to help us, someone who knows about rules and laws and stuff—”

Lexie clears her throat. “Yeah, if we could get people to think about how scared and hungry these kittens must be out there all on their own, and how we have a lot of lonely people in the city who would love to have a pet, then we could try to put two and two together.”

“We call it our Foster Kitten, Foster Home Program,” I ad-lib. “We're hoping that if people keep the kittens for a while and grow to like them, they'll want to adopt them.” One of the phone lines lights up, and Lexie and I stare at it, mesmerized. Someone out there is listening!

Heather presses a button to take the call. “ ‘A Closer Look.' Hi, you're on the air.”

“Hello, Heather. My name is Audrey Davis. I'm a local veterinarian, and I listen to your program regularly. I work closely with the Humane Society and other animal rescue groups, and I just had to call and say how impressed I am with your guests. As a matter of fact, I'd like to offer my clinic this Saturday from one p.m. to four p.m. so that A Cause for Paws can bring kittens by for a checkup, shots, and spaying and neutering. I challenge fellow veterinarians to make the same pledge to help these kids out. Let's support worthy programs like this.”

Lexie and I can barely believe our ears. More calls come in. One listener volunteers to contact the Humane Society and other animal-protection agencies to ask them to sponsor more Cause for Paws clubs in neighborhoods throughout the city. Another call comes in from the general manager of High Sierra Convalescent Center, who agrees to adopt two kittens as soon as Dr. Davis examines them. He asks other convalescent homes to do it too.

Finally, Heather turns to us. “Before we conclude today's program, are there any last thoughts you'd like to share?”

I stare at the button that lights up when a call comes in. Why hasn't Daddy called? How can I get his attention now that the show's almost over?

“I've got something,” I blurt. Heat races to my face. “I know a song and, well, maybe if I sing it, everyone will remember what we talked about today. I'd like to sing it for all the strays out there who are lost, lonely, and wanting or needing a home.”

Lexie's mouth drops open. “You can sing?” she whispers.

Heather smiles and announces to the listeners, “Well, this is a treat. A closing song written and sung by Sara Olson.”

“Actually, it's like one my daddy wrote,” I correct, hoping beyond all hope that by stretching things out, he will hear me and figure out how to find me.

“You're on, Sara.”

I clear my throat. My hands start to sweat. What should I sing? I would have to make up a song on the spot. Maybe Anna will hear it along with Daddy.

“My song's called ‘Home,' ” I say. I open my mouth and out come the words:

Home is a place

I wish I could be.

Right now my home

Isn't up to me.

You ran away.

My heart broke in two.

Now I have no home,

And I don't have you.

Home is a place

I wish I could be.

Right now my home

Is inside of me.

My home's my heart,

And it's on the mend.

Invite me home,

And you've made a friend.

“Adopt a stray!” I say, ending my song.

“Wow, Sara,” Lexie whispers, all choked up. “It's like a theme song!”

After a moment of silence, more phone lines light up and the closing music comes on. “A Closer Look” is over.

After we thank Heather, Lexie and I take off the headsets. Exhausted, we head back to the front of the studio, where Lexie's dad is waiting for us, smiling. I look around, hoping to see my dad, too, but he's nowhere. I have to think of a way to give him enough time to find the station.

“You did it!” Lexie shouts, hugging me.

“We did it,” I correct, hugging her back. Suddenly I realize what having a friend feels like. The feeling is wonderful, yet scary. Friends can disappear too. Like sisters, and brothers, and pets, and parents. They can be there one minute and gone the next.

“You sure did.” Heather beams. She walks us to the door and shakes our hands. “I might just have to come over and take one of those kittens myself,” she says, giving me a hug.

“Ready?” Lexie's dad asks, his eyes sparkling.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say quickly.

“It's right down the hall, Sara.” Heather points down a shiny hallway. “And to your left,” she adds. I walk slowly. Behind me, Lexie is chattering with her dad. I don't even have to turn around to picture them grinning at each other.

When I come out, Daddy will be here. I just know it.

“Did you, like, die and flush yourself down the toilet?” a voice suddenly calls. I stay seated, chin on my elbows, and don't answer. I know it's Lexie.

“Sara?” Lexie's hair sweeps the floor as she bends down to look under the stall door. “I thought those were your feet. You okay?”

I sigh. It seems answer enough. I open the door and look for some sign on her face that Daddy came. It's like she reads my mind.

“He's not here, Sara.”

I start for the door. “Hey, don't you want to wash your hands?”

“I didn't go,” I mumble. “I was just—”

I don't have to finish. Part of being a friend, it turns out, is knowing what someone can't say and why they can't say it. Lexie knows. Right now, that's enough.

*  *  *

On the drive home, I listen to Lexie talk everything over with her dad. I watch their faces light up and the sparkle in their eyes dance.

Daddy should have been there. He didn't come. My thoughts shift, not to Mama or seeing Daddy, but to Anna. All I want to do is see my sister. At least I know where she is.

The car suddenly gets quiet. I look up.

“Are you all right?” Lexie looks at me funny.

I don't realize until then that I've been crying. “I was so sure Daddy would hear me and that he'd be at the station.”

Lexie looks at her dad and back at me. I can tell she's struggling for something to say. “The biggest thing I ever lost is a tooth,” she says, “but another one grew in its place. It's not like losing a person.”

“With all those rules about Anna having to improve her behavior, I'll probably never get to see her or even talk to her again.” I bite my lip.

Mr. Anderson pulls over to the side of the road and twists around to look at me. “I have something that might make you feel better,” he says, reaching into his pocket. He hands me my half-heart necklace.

At first I just stare. “It can't be!” I say, but it is. I run my finger over the half heart, knowing Anna's running her finger over her half.

“How did you find it?”

“We were sweeping out the attic where the box was that you hid Anna's sheets in—the one with Cowwy?” Lexie says excitedly.

I nod, clinging to the necklace.

“Well, when Dad went to toss the dirt we swept up, guess what he saw?”

“My necklace! You found my necklace. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Lexie grins. “We found it,
and
I had Mom get a new chain for it. The one it had was broken, but it's not anymore! See?”

I put it on. “This is so great. My mom gave this to me and the other half to Anna. She said to never take it off, but my chain broke. Anna still has hers.” Words slide out of me like water over rocks. Mr. Anderson smiles and pulls back onto the road.

“Now you don't have to take it off either. And Dad can help you get in to see Anna, right, Dad?”

I hold my breath, not daring to breathe, waiting for his answer.

“
Who-o-a!
Slow down, Lex. I didn't say that—”

“But you said—”

He holds a hand up like a stop sign. “Let's tackle one problem at a time, shall we?”

As we pull into the Andersons' driveway, a photographer from the local paper is waiting for us. I see the Chandlers waving from Lexie's porch. We jump out of the car and gather in the front yard. Kevin starts handing out stray kittens.

“One for you. . . . One for you.”

The photographer has me, Kevin, Skeeter, and Lexie hold the kittens out like we're wanting to give them to someone. “Look for it in tomorrow's paper,” he says, packing up his gear.

Tomorrow's paper!
Maybe Daddy will see my picture and then come get me!
The thought gets my heart pounding so hard, I can feel it.

“Thank you!” Lexie and I shout together.

On our way home, Kevin tells me about all the Halloween decorations he's made for the house. When he takes a breather, Mrs. Chandler gives my shoulders a squeeze. “You were great on the radio, Sara. I am so proud of you.”

“You heard me?”

She nods. I hold up the necklace for her to see. “Mr. Anderson found it in the attic at their house.”