Hey, gang!
A new writer, Jeanne Niall, has submitted this to us for a special purpose.
Below you will find chapters 1 - 3 of her manuscript, "A Different Child." Jeanne asks that DRS patrons not only read, but critique, the book's beginning. She said "be brutal" and really would like some honest, constructive feedback on writing style, character development, entertainment and interest value, story flow, etc.
Although not intended to be a children's book, "A Different Child" is told from the viewpoint of 10 year old Tami. The question to you - especially those of you with kids - is "Is this story believeable from a 10 year old's perspective"?
A Different Child
by
Jeanne Niall
Chapter 1
The Bus Ride
Tami sat dejectedly on the wooden bench outside of the Trailways station, picking nervously at the chipping paint on the seat beside her leg and wondering just how she was going to manage not to cry. Her mother sat stiffly beside her and sighed, glancing at her watch every few minutes. The bus was late and she had things to do before she could make the drive through town to the ranch style home they’d moved in to several years before. The wind was cool for an early June day, and it blew trash and dust balls across the narrow passageway where the busses stopped for loading, swirling them in tiny tornados. The day was as gray as Tami’s mood. She lifted a hand to her mouth and chewed at a hangnail, and was interrupted by her mother’s hand slapping at her. “Stop that disgusting behavior Tami.” said her mother, “Your cuticles are already ruined.”
Tami could still hear the jeers of her classmates on the school bus ride home Wednesday as they’d all opened their report cards and announced their passing grades. Her brother Larry had grabbed Tami’s still unopened report from her hands, torn it open, and loudly proclaimed his younger sister a failure. A failure. She’d felt lower than dirt and wished she could crawl under the seat rather than endure the 30 minute ride home in such agonizing circumstances. Larry never failed at anything. At 13 he was a budding athlete, made straight A’s, and even had a girlfriend. Ten year old Tami’s life was markedly different. She struggled through her subjects, was constantly called down in class for not paying attention, and rarely managed to complete a homework assignment.
Still the humiliation of that ride home paled in comparison to the icy treatment she’d received from her mother when she read the report card, and the wrath of her father. They were both teachers, gifted ones and very popular with their students and the school system. Tami’s failure in spite of all the lectures and beatings she’d received was a huge embarrassment to them and they were at their wits end to understand how their daughter couldn’t, or wouldn’t apply herself in school. Summer school wasn’t an option. Why waste the money when Tami would just sit and daydream the long summer days away just as she had all through the school year?
Tami’s other siblings, twelve year old Sara who looked enough like Larry to be his twin, and five year old Noel were no trouble to their parents. They were bright and outgoing, talented children who excelled at anything they tried. Sara was studying ballet and had already received rave reviews from her recitals. Noel, named so because she was born the day after Christmas, was a model child who at her tender age was already showing promise of being an artist. Her childlike paintings were proudly posted on the refrigerator door. All three siblings were blonde haired and blue eyed, and promised to be tall and athletic. Tami by contrast was plain, small and thin to the point of boniness, with mousy brown hair and brown eyes, and seemed to have no natural talents whatsoever.
When the news came of Tami’s failure, her mother had called Tami’s Grandparents and arranged to send her there for the summer, while the rest of the family were treated to the long awaited trip across the country. “Failures don’t go on cross country trips.” echoed her brother’s voice in her mind, and Tami drew in her breath sharply and fidgeted on the bench, managing to drive a splinter into her buttock. She welcomed the discomfort, as it gave her something else to focus on.
The bus turned the corner and ground to a halt in front of the terminal, spewing noxious diesel fumes that stirred still more trash tornados in its black smoke. Tami’s mother jumped up and turned to Tami, straightening her jacket with rough hands and making sure the note with Tami’s name and destination was firmly pinned to her chest. Tami risked a glance upward, and saw her mother’s eyes, still hard and unyielding, and she dropped her head again. Her mother took Tami’s hand and pressed a dollar bill into it. “Now you make sure not to let anyone see this money” she said, “or you’ll find it gone and there will be no coke for you when you eat your lunch. Don’t talk to anyone on the bus, especially men, and don’t get off unless the driver says you’ll be at the stop long enough to use the bathroom and get a drink.” All good advice, but spoken in the same harsh tone Tami had been subjected to for the last few days. Tami nodded her understanding, not trusting her voice not to crack, and bent to pick up the small brown bag that contained her baloney sandwich, an apple, and a few corn chips. She looked up at her mother one last time, but her mother was already turning to walk away, her heels tapping loudly on the grubby concrete as she hurried to the parking lot where the car waited.
Tami assumed her place in line and got on the bus, walking slowly down the aisle until she found two empty seats together and sat down in the one nearest the window, turning her head and pretending to stare out of it to mask the tears that finally flowed unchecked down her cheeks. She flinched as an elderly Black woman eased her heavy frame into the unoccupied seat beside her, arranging her huge shoulder bag on her lap and unbuttoning her sweater. The woman turned to Tami and spoke “Well hello there missy, and where might you be heading all by yourself like a grownup?” Tami didn’t want to answer, but the old woman wasn’t deserving of rude behavior so she managed to squeak out “Shelby, in North Carolina, Ma’am”, her voice breaking.
She kept her face toward the window as the bus driver revved the engine and the bus shuddered and gained speed through the alley and then turned without slowing onto the street. Tami felt her heart break as she began her long journey away from home, family, and the few friends she’d managed to make who didn’t think she was too weird to hang out with. She was trying to remember her Grandparents. She hadn’t seen them since her sister Noel was born and that was five years ago, too long for her to even remember faces. They were strangers and she had no idea what kind of welcome she would receive. Would they be glad to see her? Would they be as cold as her parents had become? Did they even want her at all?
She started as the old woman next to her touched her lightly on the arm and turned to see the offered Kleenex in the wrinkled hand. “I’m not crying” she said, trying very hard to make it true. “Of course you’re not dear.” said the woman in a voice as soothing and gentle as hot chocolate on a winter night. “That smelly old bus kicks out some nasty smoke, and it’s got my eyes to watering too.” Tami turned then and accepted the Kleenex gratefully, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, before wadding it up and stuffing it into the paper sack with her lunch. She looked into the old woman’s face and saw that she was smiling, her eyes crinkled at the corners like Santa Claus’ and her mouth was wide and happy, even with it’s missing teeth. Tami couldn’t help but smile back and she felt her mood lift with the warmth of the old woman’s friendliness. That face was the first friendly thing she’d seen in almost a week and she welcomed it down to her soul.
They settled in together like new friends will and made small talk as the bus ground its way thru the miles of back road Virginia and into back road North Carolina. The woman’s name was Ruth, and she was on her way to visit her own grandchildren in Roanoke Rapids. Tami thought with a pang of envy that her grandchildren must be about the luckiest things on earth, to have such a smiling person to want to visit them. She told Ms. Ruth that she was heading to her own Grandparents’ for the summer, and that they lived on a farm with cows and chickens and dogs and gardens and tractors. She left out the part about being a failure. She didn’t want her new friend to find any excuse to move to another seat and leave Tami at the mercy of the next person who got on the bus and who might not be so friendly to little girls who couldn’t pass the fifth grade.
As the miles passed Ms Ruth taught Tami games to ease the boredom of the long ride. They laughed together as they counted cows in pastures, each counting only on her side of the bus, and hoping the other wouldn’t see the graveyards that meant she lost all her cows and had to start over again. They ate lunch together just across the state line, and Tami traded half her sandwich for a piece of Ms Ruth’s fried chicken, and exchanged her chips for two oatmeal cookies. By the time the bus rolled into Roanoke Rapids several hours later they’d become fast friends, and Tami hugged Ms Ruth goodbye, accepting a few more Kleenexes and a stick of gum as farewell presents before the old woman heaved her body from the seat and climbed down the steps, to be greeted by a large and noisy brood of grandchildren who clearly adored her. Ms Ruth turned to wave goodbye once more before the bus pulled away and got back on the highway, leaving Tami alone again with her thoughts.
The rest of the trip was uneventful. She didn’t have to worry about a new seatmate, as so many had gotten off at Roanoke Rapids and few got on for the rest of the long winding drive toward Shelby and the unknown Grandparents. Tami slept as the day dragged on and had to be shaken awake by the bus driver when the bus stopped in Shelby many hours later and well after dark.
As she exited the bus she looked around for a familiar face, but saw no one she thought might be her Grandmother. She’d just about decided that her Grandparents had changed their minds about the forced visit and was wondering if she should hop back on the bus for the return trip when an energetic older woman hurried out of the terminal and grabbed Tami in a hug so tight it cut her breath off. “There you are! That darn bus is over 30 minutes late and I was afraid it would never show up at all. Let me have a look at you Tami darlin’, you’re almost grown up!” Tami took a deep breath and inhaled the suddenly familiar scent of cloves and that face powder old ladies use and she remembered. She used to sit on this old woman’s lap while she shelled peas on the front porch and listen to stories. Her grandmother hugged her again, just as tight as before and Tami grunted with the effort to breathe. “Hi Grandma” she said in a small but hopeful voice. The woman wasted no time in getting Tami’s small suitcase from the man unloading the baggage compartment and she bustled Tami down the sidewalk toward the waiting car, explaining that there was “some weather coming that we don’t need to be out in”. So Tami half ran, half walked to keep up, amazed that an old woman could move so fast.
They drove the next 15 miles with her Grandmother chattering endlessly about the Church and Vacation Bible School and the garden and the work Tami would be able to help with. She talked of canning vegetables and drying fruits and making pickles and feeding chickens and cows while Tami nodded sleepily and wished only for a warm bed that didn’t shake and rattle like that old bus. It was well past her bedtime when they arrived, turning down a narrow but well kept dirt drive that twisted and climbed and then went down into the small valley where the old farmhouse lay.
Grandma drove right into the carport just as the weather broke, sending rain pelting down noisily onto the old tin roof of the house. Tami got out on her side and was immediately engulfed in dogs. Lots of dogs. Big dogs, little dogs, dogs with dirty paws and wet tongues and cold noses. She froze in fear as they swarmed her and then melted as it seemed she wasn’t to be attacked and eaten after all. Grandma yelled at the pack to leave Tami be so she could get into the house, and Tami followed, slowly making her way thru the five dogs, ranging from the huge black faced one who looked more like a bear than a dog, the long legged hound, the two beagles who looked like clones, to the small Dachshund, who turned out to be the one licking her face so adamantly.
As they entered the house through the back porch and into the kitchen Tami spied her Grandfather, and again recognition and relief flooded over her. She didn’t remember much, but what she could recall warmed her. This was the old man she’d thought was a dream for years! She had visions of sitting at his feet somewhere out in the woods by a creek, not saying a word but instead watching some small animal play in a tree nearby. She must not have dreamed that after all! It was hard sometimes for Tami to know what she’d dreamed and what she’d actually experienced. So many things she saw seemed so real, but she was laughed at by her siblings when she tried to insist that what she’d seen was true and not a dream.
Her Grandfather hugged her and greeted her in a quiet voice that was soft yet powerful, calming her apprehension instantly and making her feel at home. He turned and hugged his wife of 50 years, and Tami was touched by their easy familiarity with each other, and the way they just seemed to want to hug and hold each other and Tami. This was something new to her. Tami’s parents weren’t huggers at all, there was very little physical contact between them or their children. Her Grandmother heated some milk in a small pan and gave Tami a mug to sip while Grandfather made a fresh pot of coffee. “The power will probably go out soon Tami,” said Grandfather, “so we all might as well head on to bed.” She was led willingly to a small tidy room off the den and tucked into a twin bed piled high with pillows and warm quilts. A gray tabby cat wound his way out of the almost closed closet door and made himself the owner of the softest pillow, purring as Tami rubbed him softly to make him welcome. She lay sleepily for a little while, half listening to the murmuring voices of her Grandparents in the next room while the sound of the rain on the roof lulled her to sleep. She felt safe and warm and wanted, like she belonged here, and it was the first time in her ten years she’d ever felt that way. She drifted off at last with the smallest little smile on her face. And the dreams came softly over her.
Chapter Two
The Magic Begins
Tami bolted upright in bed, a small cry catching in her throat. For a split-second she didn’t know where she was, till she saw the gray cat leap off the bed and turn to look at her with disgust in the way that cats do when they are unexpectedly disturbed. He vanished into the closet. What had awakened her? Then she heard it again, a low mournful howl that grew in depth and volume until it filled her ears. Her heart pounded wildly. Wolves! Were there wolves here? Could they get into the house? But no, the sound was too close, and there were all those dogs out there. She threw back the covers and stepped to the window to peek out just as the howl began again. This time a second voice joined in, taking up the tune, and then a third and fourth, almost in unison and finally a tiny fifth voice chimed in, balancing the chorus with a high pitched soprano.
The rain had stopped and the night had cleared. The moon was about three quarters full, casting an eerie light onto the front lawn of the old farmhouse. There, just beyond a stately weeping willow sat the dogs, all of them in a loose circle, noses pointed at the glowing orb of the moon. Tami watched mesmerized as they continued their song, a song as old as the earth itself. The reverberation was at once soothing and disquieting, and it continued for a full minute or more. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it ended, each dog ceasing its song at the same instant. They sat together for another moment, then one by one they broke rank and wandered sleepily back to their beds.
Tami had a sudden urge to use the bathroom and crept down the hall till she found the small room, lit softly by a tiny night light glowing in the corner by the sink. Her feet were chilled by the cold tile of the floor and the cool night air coming through the open window made her shiver. She sat and glanced out the window at the moonlit yard. She could see a light, something glowing across the way. She hopped off the toilet seat and squinted out at the night for a better look. And quite suddenly she found herself standing barefoot and still in her nightgown under an old oak tree very near the light. Panic filled her until she realized this had to be another one of her dreams. She peered again and saw that the light was from a fire, but it was different, flickering and dancing but not like a real fire, and there were smaller lights all around, some of them looking like lightening bugs, and some looking like tiny glistening people. There was a figure standing there too, a tall someone dressed in long flowing white robes, with a hood that was pulled well forward to hide his face. He was turned away from her and was saying something. She was close enough to hear him clearly but she couldn’t understand a single word. He was speaking in a strange guttural language. He strode slowly around in a circle repeating a phrase and she could see a long stick in his hand. But it wasn’t a stick exactly. It had vines growing up it, twisting their way almost to the top, and they moved like snakes as he walked. There were feathers hanging from it too. Tami could make out a long gray one, a jet black one that caught the light from the fire and reflected it in rainbow colors, and a beautiful red one with a white band across the end. At the top of the stick was a clear pointed crystal, radiating still more light, increasing it’s intensity as he spoke. The figure raised the stick toward the sky occasionally, and spoke deeper, more powerful words in a commanding tone, shaking it for emphasis.
This behavior continued for several minutes as Tami watched spellbound from behind the gnarled trunk of the old oak. Then the figure grasped the stick with both hands, the snake vines writhing madly, and raised it high over his head as he shouted a word. He brought the stick back down with great force and drove the tip of it into the ground and at that precise moment the fire went out, and the smaller glowing figures and the tiny lightening bug things disappeared until the night was lit only by the moon, glowing in the distance. Tami gasped and then clapped her hand over her mouth as the figure whirled in her direction. She froze, moments ticking past like hours, until the figure relaxed and strode away toward the house, passing Tami’s hiding place without looking.
Tami crept out of hiding to the fire pit and saw that it was filled with ashes. Cold ashes, as though the fire had burned long ago. Confused and spooked she turned and started to run toward the house and was instantaneously back in the bathroom, standing by the window as before. Her fingers were gripping the sill so hard they were white, and she was quaking with much more than cold. She turned and tip toed back down the hall and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers well up over her head and curling up in a tight ball.
A moment later she was greeted with a soft meow as the gray cat hopped up on the bed to reclaim his pillow. She peeked out at him. The cat purred and rubbed himself against her face as she reached out a trembling hand to stroke his soft fur. At least the cat was real…..she thought. He purred louder and twisted his body to place her hand on his rump, then stretched as tall as he could with his tail straight up as she stroked him. Tami calmed gradually and was soon warm. She watched as the cat settled on the pillow, curling his front paws under himself and slitting his eyes in the way that cats do when they are ready to sleep. Moments later Tami was asleep too.
Chapter Three
Life on the Farm
Tami awoke to the sound of pans banging in the kitchen and the smell of coffee brewing. She hopped out of her bed and turned to make it up neatly, admiring the ringed pattern on the faded top quilt as she smoothed the wrinkles from it and fluffed the pillows. The cat was nowhere to be seen, and his spot on the pillow was cold. Tami rummaged in her small suitcase to find fresh clothes, as her traveling clothes smelled of bus exhaust, cigarette smoke, and grime.
While pulling on clean jeans and t-shirt she looked around the room, seeing it clearly for the first time. Besides the twin bed on a tarnished brass frame was a dresser with mirror, and a small rocking chair with a knitted afghan over the back and a tufted pillow on the seat. An oval braided rug was on the floor, faded and worn but clean. There was a desk in front of the window that looked out onto the broad front porch. The best thing though was the bookcase. It was a huge affair, stretching from floor almost to ceiling and bursting at the seams with books. Hundreds of books, from ancient leather bound volumes to paperbacks.
Books were just about her most favorite thing in the world. She escaped into one as often as she could get away with it, losing herself in the stories she read and traveling in her mind to all manner of fascinating places. Tami ran her fingers lightly over the bindings, recognizing a few but mostly seeing books she’d never read, and she trembled with joy. At home her mother’s favorite way to punish Tami was to take away her reading privileges and to deny Tami’s frequent trips to the library. But here, she had more books than she could even count in her room. Her room. That concept sunk in and she smiled, turning again to view the room and to feel it was all hers, a small and cozy sanctuary.
Her Grandmother’s voice broke through Tami’s daydream, calling her to breakfast. She trotted down the hall past the bathroom and into the kitchen, where she found her Grandmother standing at the stove, and her Grandfather sitting at the table eating eggs and bacon and biscuits. “Here’s your place Tami” said her Grandmother as she pulled out a chair and motioned Tami into it. She set a bowl of oatmeal down and beside it a small plate with a biscuit, a slice of bacon, and a piece of cheese. A huge glass of milk was already there.
“How’d you sleep?” asked her Grandmother as she drizzled maple syrup over the oatmeal. “I had a….” Tami caught herself before she said the word “dream”. She was afraid they’d ridicule her like her parents and siblings did if she told them about it. “I had a good night’s sleep.” she managed to get out in a small voice. Her Grandfather looked at her, his eyes piercing and all knowing and he asked. “No bad dreams then? Just a peaceful sleep?” Tami stared up at him, trying to read his face, and was intrigued when he slowly winked one eye, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. Confused Tami said “Um, no Sir, I just slept, and the cat kept me company.”
“Cat? What cat?” her Grandmother asked. Oh no, the cat was probably a dream too, but she’d already mentioned it so she couldn’t deny it now. “It was a big gray tabby cat Grandma, and he slept on one of the pillows.” Her Grandparents stared at each other across the table as Tami waited for the axe to fall. Then they smiled in unison and her Grandmother explained. “That cat’s lived here for years and no one has ever laid a hand on him. He’s just a half wild thing that comes and goes as he pleases. We let him stay because he keeps the mice and rats out of the basement and the house.”
Tami smiled, relieved to her bones that the cat was in fact real. “He slept with me and he let me pet him and he purred.” she said happily. Her Grandfather nodded and spoke “Well, I guess he’s your cat then Child, so it’s up to you to name him.” Tami instantly dubbed him “Grey” explaining that Gandalf the Grey was a Wizard in one of her favorite books. Her Grandmother smiled and just shook her head as her Grandfather threw back his head and laughed a deep booming laugh. “That’s a fine name for that cat.” he said. And Tami glowed.
Amazingly, things were shaping up. She’d been here less than a day and she already had her own room with all the books she could possibly read, and even her own cat. She dived into her oatmeal with gusto, having discovered that after all the excitement she had a huge appetite. As she drained the last swallow of milk her Grandfather got up and excused himself and went out through the back door. Tami helped her Grandmother clear the table without being asked and dried the dishes as Grandma washed.
“It’s time we got started on morning chores” said Grandma. You’ll have your own chores to do but today I’ll take you around and show you how to do them. Tomorrow you’ll do them on your own.” She picked up a small basket made of some kind of vine, and as they stepped together out to the back porch she paused to rummage in a large can, bringing up a small galvanized pail and scooping it half full of grain. She handed Tami the pail to carry and they walked to the back yard to find the chicken coop.
She showed Tami how to scatter the grain to the flock of chickens that appeared and surrounded them, clucking busily and scratching and pecking at the ground. Tami laughed as she watched them peck around her feet and jostle each other to get at the grain. Grandma pointed at one of them and warned her “That’s Rocky, our rooster, and he thinks he’s the boss of everything, he’ll peck you if you aren’t careful.” She moved the protesting rooster out of her way with the toe of her shoe as they finished spreading the feed and entered the chicken house. “Set that pail down by the door and we’ll get the eggs.” she said. She showed Tami how to gather the eggs from each nest and put them into the basket.
Over at one end there was a hen who was setting, and Tami walked over to see her. “Don’t touch her” said Grandma. “She’s setting and we don’t take her eggs.” “Setting?” asked Tami. “We let them hatch a brood once in awhile so we’ll have pullets, young chickens, for the table. She’s got a batch of eggs under her and she’ll sit on them to keep them warm till they hatch.” “Wow” breathed Tami softly as she gave the hen a wide berth. They finished searching for the eggs, finding more than one hidden under the straw outside of the nest boxes. When they were through there were eleven eggs in the basket. “Good haul today” said Grandma. “Good thing too, since I have some baking to do tomorrow and wanted to take some goods to the church bake sale Sunday afternoon.”
They exited the chicken house and Tami grabbed the pail. Grandma took the eggs and pail back to the house while Tami looked around the spacious back yard, peering at the outbuildings and wondering what was in them. “Where’d all the dogs go Grandma?” She asked when the old woman returned. “Oh they always go down to the barn with your Grandfather to feed the cows in the mornings. They’ll be back directly and you can meet them all. Meantime we have more chores to do and then I’ll turn you lose to explore and play a bit before lunch.”
She and Tami turned the chickens out to roam the yard and raked the droppings from the chicken coop, adding them to a huge compost pile in the corner of the yard. Then Tami was shown how to weed the small kitchen herb garden, as she listened carefully to her Grandmother’s descriptions of the various plants growing there. By the time the plot was weeded she knew rosemary, thyme, sage, chives, fennel, parsley and garlic, and she was introduced to lemon balm and various kinds of mints each in their own small plots. Tami delighted in the assortment of smells and tastes as she aquainted herself with the herbs.
Grandma smiled as Tami successfully named every herb pointed out to her. “You’ll make a good herbalist some day I expect, you catch on quick”. Tami beamed her pleasure at the old woman. Praise was something rarely received and she glowed. “I’ll let you help me make tinctures and teas with some of these when it’s time. But for now we need to get the front porch swept and the dogs beds fluffed. That’ll be your morning chore too. Think you can handle it?” Tami nodded happily, thinking she hadn’t been asked to do anything that wasn’t fun.
They continued on for another few minutes, filling water buckets for the dogs and sweeping the porch. Tami was just finishing fluffing the five dog beds when the little Dachshund appeared out of nowhere and leaped up to lick her face. Laughing Tami bent to pet him and was surrounded by the rest of the pack, her Grandfather right behind them.
He introduced her to each dog, starting with the big one that looked so scary and bearlike. “This is Kuma and he’s an Akita. He’s a hunter and keeps trespassers and strays off the farm, but he‘s real sweet to us. That big hound there is Prince. He wandered up here with a broken leg a couple of years ago and Kuma never ran him off. The two beagles are Matt and Maggie. They’re brother and sister, and that little brat over there is Buster. He’s worthless, but he makes us laugh so we keep him.” Tami stroked each dog and repeated their names until she knew them all.
Grandfather walked Tami around the rest of the yard, letting her peek into each of the outbuildings. “This one is the smokehouse, where we cure meat for the winter, and over there is the toolshed, and this one is the storage shed. The creek is just down the hill there. You can play in it if you want, just make sure Kuma goes with you to take care of any snakes, and if you go exploring take the dogs. That way if you get turned around they can show you the way home.” He pointed in the direction Tami had seen the fire last night and she looked up at him, wondering if he knew that a hooded stranger was messing around over there after everyone went to bed at night. She decided to keep that little fact to herself for now, until she got to know him a little better and felt he could be trusted.
Tami played happily with the dogs until it was time for lunch, then worked for a while in the vegetable garden with her Grandmother before being turned loose to explore a bit. She ventured as far as she dared, which wasn’t far considering she was a city girl after all and wasn’t used to roaming any place larger than the playground at school. After supper and her bath she excused herself to her room, to begin exploring the vast collection of books, and she fell asleep well before 9 pm with a book still opened on her chest and the gray cat curled up on his pillow beside her.
