Read Under a Bear Moon for Free Online

bench. He unwrapped a sandwich, and she took out an apple. She'd taken her first bite when a high-pitched cry caught her attention. It sound-ed like a baby, but when she turned, Lynda saw a thin, tabby-striped cat slink around the kitchen door.
    Lynda stood and eased toward the building. The cat froze. Crouching ten feet away, Lynda extended her hand. “Here kitty, kitty.”
    The cat's ears flattened; its tail flicked. Lynda watched its shoulders bunch as it prepared to run. She started to back away when the cat's tail suddenly stilled and its ears rotated forward. Lynda glanced up and saw Greg crouched beside her.
    He held out a corner of his sandwich, tuna fish by the smell. “Crrouw,” he said, his voice rising to a surprisingly high note.
    The cat took a timid step forward. Lynda held her breath while it paused, then ran up to Greg and nibbled the crust.
    “There's a good puss.” Greg took a finger and stroked the cat between its ears. Without stopping its meal, the cat closed its eyes and started to purr.
    “That's amazing,” Lynda said. “Most of the feral cats around here won't let anyone near them.” Extending her hand, she slowly ran it over the cat's back. She ached at how thin the coat felt, how every vertebra jutted like a knob under the fur.
    Greg tore off another piece of sandwich and handed it to the cat. She accepted the tidbit daintily, then let him scoop her into his lap. “Momma Cat's hungry.”
    Lynda took a closer look and saw the swollen teats on the cat's abdomen. Clearly, the cat had recently had kittens. Impressed that Greg had noticed, she watched him give the cat another bite. “Think she'd like some yogurt?” she asked, glancing at her backpack.
    “Sure, but she'll run if you get up.”
    Lynda looked at the cat draped over Greg's thigh, and wondered how he knew. She didn't get up, though. Instead, she ran her finger along the cat's scabby jaw. “She's got fleas.”
    “Yeah, and worms, too. You're in bad shape, aren't you, Momma Cat.”
    Lynda glanced at Greg. The sadness in his voice surprised her. “I thought you didn't like animals.”
    He blinked and met her gaze. “Why?”
    The cat butted his hand, demanding his attention. Greg smiled and handed her the rest of his sandwich.
    “When I talked to you last week about the dog, you seemed ... I don't know, almost hostile.”
    Greg sighed. “I explained that.” He lifted the cat gently off his lap, and she trotted off, holding the last bite of sandwich in her mouth. “I was running late and didn't have time to talk. I'm sorry I sounded angry. I wasn't—at least not at you.”
    Lynda sat back on her heels. “But you were angry.”
    Greg watched the cat disappear around the corner of the building. “At the fools who let their dogs run loose, who throw little cats out on the street and expect them to take care of themselves.” He turned back to Lynda and added, “Sometimes I think it's the owners who should be licensed, not the animals.”
    “Me, too,” Lynda said, stunned to hear him spout one of her pet peeves.
    They stood and walked back to the bench. Lynda had nearly finished her lunch when the bell rang. She scooped her remaining yogurt onto the grass for the cats, threw the container away, and ran with Greg to the cafeteria door. He held it for her, and Lynda jogged past him into the cafeteria.
    In contrast to the rest of the school, the cafeteria was a study in modern sterility. White plastic tables surrounded by folding chairs dotted the room. The floor was beige linoleum, the walls laboratory green. Greasy steam wafted in from the open kitchen doors. Between the clank of dishes and the shrieks of the younger students, the noise was deafening.
    Without slowing, she turned her head to ask Greg what he was doing after school and barreled into Richard Hammer.
    “Lynda,” Richard said, taking a step back.
    “Sorry.”
    Richard shrugged. “Do you know if Mendelson has posted the cast list yet?”
    “It's on the