Catboy - Eric Walters [36]
“We go to the front entrance.”
We circled around the yard. The new fence was solid, and so high we couldn’t even see the junk on the other side. The posters listed all the condo’s features. It would have an indoor pool, a full exercise facility, underground parking, penthouse terraces, marble and hardwood floors, modern kitchens and concierge services. I didn’t know what concierge meant, but I didn’t like it. It was so slick and beautiful I was sure everybody in the neighborhood would rather have condos here than a junkyard. Well, everybody except me, my friends and the cats.
“Wow, look at that,” Simon said.
There were so many images and photos, I didn’t know where to look first. “Where?”
“Right here,” he said, tapping his hand against the wall where it said Occupancy. “People are going to be moving in by next fall.”
“Is that even possible?” I asked. “Can they build it that quickly?”
“I guess if there are enough workers, machines and money they can. Besides, it isn’t like the owners have to tear anything down before they start building.”
He was right. All they had to do was remove the car parts and wrecks. They didn’t care about the cats that called the junkyard home. They probably didn’t even know about the cats, but telling them wouldn’t change anything. To the owners, the cats were even less valuable than the wrecks that littered the lot. At least the scrap metal could be sold for something.
We rounded the corner in time to see a big flatbed truck rumble away from the entrance. On its back were three squashed wrecks.
The truck pulled away, and we ran toward the entrance. Mr. Singh was standing at the gate.
“Hello!” I yelled.
Mr. Singh didn’t answer. He gave me a strange look.
“How are you—?” I stopped mid-sentence as a man in a suit stepped out of the guardhouse. He walked over to a large, fancy black car and climbed in.
“Keep moving,” I said to Simon.
“What?” he asked.
I grabbed him by the arm. “Just keep moving, don’t look at Mr. Singh and don’t say anything to him.”
The car started up and passed through the gates as we walked by, missing us by only a foot or two.
“Watch it, buddy!” Simon yelled. “Learn how to drive, you jerk!”
The windows were up, so the driver didn’t hear Simon any more than he noticed us. I pulled Simon ahead a few more feet until the car drove off, disappearing into traffic, and then we spun back around.
“Thank you for doing that,” Mr. Singh said. “That is the boss.”
“The guy who owns this place?” I asked.
“Yes, the guy who now owns the land and is building the condos,” Mr. Singh explained. “He would not be happy if he knew I was letting you into the yard.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You need to get into the yard to feed your cats. It is a risk I am willing to take.”
“And if he caught you?” I asked.
Mr. Singh shrugged. “He would fire me, I think. He is not such a nice man.”
“Or such a great driver,” Simon added.
“I have spoken to him. I believe that he would run over anybody or anything that got in the way of this project,” Mr. Singh said.
“Even the cats,” I said.
“He does not know anything about the colony of cats.”
“And if he did know?” I asked.
“It would make no difference. It might even be worse for the cats.”
“How could it be worse?” I asked.
“He might do something to them. He is only caring about the money. All I can do is buy a little more time. They are moving the wrecks. It is my decision which cars and which parts of the yard are cleared first. I will keep them away from the colony.” He paused. “At least for a week or two.”
“That’s better than nothing,” Simon said. “It gives us time to do something.”
“You have a plan?” Mr. Singh asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. Do you?” I asked.
“Nothing. I just hope if we allow the cats enough time, perhaps they will find another place to live for themselves.”
“With that big fence around the place, can they even get out?” Simon asked.
I hadn’t even thought of that.
“It is too high for them to climb, but there are places where