“Marisol?” I repeated.

“I saw her dad while I was taking out the trash,” my dad said as he poured perfect circles of batter into a pan. “We were talking about the game today, and how his TV had conked out, and one thing led to another. He had the cash, I had the TV, and the rest is history.”

“But how are you and I going to watch the game?” I asked.

“We’re going to Best Buy it.”

I grabbed a strip of bacon. “What’s that mean?”

My dad adjusted the heat on the stove. “You’ll see. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Aretha liked watching Curious George,” said Robin. She set down her plate and Aretha licked it clean.

“You may be interested to hear that Curious George began his existence as a character in a book,” said my dad as he flipped a pancake. “In any case, this family needs to spend more quality time together. You know—play cards, maybe. Or Monopoly.”

“I like Chutes and Ladders,” said Robin.

“Me too.” My dad tossed a little chunk of bacon to Aretha. “Too much TV rots your brain.”

“You love TV,” I said while I started loading the dishwasher.

“That’s because TV’s already rotted it. There’s still hope for you two.”

It didn’t take long for my breakfast to be ready. “Nice work on the pancakes,” I said.

“Thanks. I do have a certain flair.” My dad pointed his spatula at me. “I saw Marisol when Carlos and I were carrying in the TV. She said to remind you about the Gouchers’ dachshunds.”

“Yeah, we’re walking them tomorrow.”

“Are dachshunds wiener dogs?” Robin asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” My dad nodded. “You know, Jacks, I haven’t seen much of Dawan or Ryan or anybody else lately. What’s up with that?”

“I dunno. Dawan and Ryan are doing soccer camp. Everybody does different stuff in the summer.”

My dad put some dishes in the sink. His back was turned to me. “I’m really sorry about soccer camp, Jacks. Just couldn’t swing it.”

“No biggie,” I said quickly. “I’m kind of growing out of soccer.”

“Yeah,” my dad said softly. “That happens.”

I stared at the sweet steam spinning from my pancakes. I tried hard not to think about Marisol watching our TV, feeling sorry for us while we played Chutes and Ladders and ate bran cereal out of a T-ball cap.

Then I tried not to be annoyed at myself for worrying about something so unimportant.

I grabbed my fork and knife and sliced up my pancakes.

“Whoa,” said my dad. “Ease up, Zorro.”

I looked up, confused. “Who’s Zorro?”

“Masked guy. Good with swords.” My dad pointed to my plate. “You were getting a little carried away with the slice-and-dice action.”

I looked down at my pancakes. It was true. I’d destroyed them pretty well. But that wasn’t what got my attention.

In the middle of the plate, surrounded by maple-syrup mush, were slices of pancake, neatly forming eight letters: C - R - E - N - S - H - A - W.

Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe not. In any case, I scarfed them down before anyone could notice.

34

After my mom came home, my dad and I headed for Best Buy. We stopped at the bank, and while my dad stood in line, I grabbed two free suckers, one for me and one for Robin. I always pick purple. If there are no purples, reds are pretty good.

I am not a big fan of yellows.

We were lucky to live in Northern California, I figured. It’s really beautiful, except for when there are wildfires or mudslides or earthquakes. Even better, it’s a great place to find free food, if you know where to look. The farmers’ market at the Civic Center parking lot is a great spot because they give you samples, things like honey in a straw or peanut brittle. Grocery stores are good too, the ones where they have free cantaloupe pieces on a toothpick. Our local hardware store gives away little bags of popcorn on Saturdays, so that’s an option, if you get there early enough.

If you’re hungry, you wouldn’t want to live in Alaska, I’ll bet. They probably don’t have outdoor farmers’ markets very often. Although in Alaska they do have grizzly bears. I would very much enjoy meeting one of those guys.

From a nice, safe distance. A grizzly bear’s front claws can be four inches long.

Around here, it’s easier to be hungry in winter than in summer. Most people wouldn’t expect that, but during the school year you can get free breakfast and lunch and sometimes after-school snacks. Last year they stopped having summer school because there wasn’t enough money. So that means no breakfast or lunch when school’s out.

They do have free food at the community center food pantry, but that’s pretty far away. My dad doesn’t like to go there. He says he doesn’t want to take food from people who really need it. But I think maybe he doesn’t like to go because everyone in line looks so tired and sad.

After the bank, we went to Best Buy, which is this giant store filled with TVs and computers and cell phones and things.

There were two long rows of TVs. Some were huge, taller than Robin, and every one of them was set to the same channel. I guess there are a lot of Giants fans working at that store.

When Matt Cain pitched a curveball, twenty balls flew across twenty screens. One TV sky was a deeper blue. One TV field was a softer green. But the movements were all the same. It was like being in a house of mirrors at the county fair.

Lots of people paused to watch the game with us. The clerks watched too, when they could get away with it. When one of them asked my dad if he had any questions about the TVs, he said we were just looking.

During the fourth inning, something weird happened. Extremely weird. On everybody else’s TV, there were two announcers sitting in a booth. They were wearing black headphones, and they were pretty psyched about a triple play.

On my TV there were two announcers sitting in a booth. They had black headphones and they were excited too.

But on my TV, one of the announcers was a cat. A big cat.

“Crenshaw,” I said under my breath.

He was looking right at me. He waved his paw.

I looked at my dad’s TV. I looked at all the other TVs.

None of their announcers were giant cats.

“Dad.” I sort of whisper-gulped the word.

“Did you see that play?” he asked. “Amazing.”

“I saw.”

I saw something else, too. Crenshaw was holding up two fingers, making rabbit ears behind the other announcer’s head.

Weird, I thought, a cat having fingers. I’d forgotten Crenshaw had them.

Weird, I thought, me worrying about that.

“You didn’t happen to see a cat just now, did you?” I asked in a casual voice.

“Cat?” my dad repeated. “You mean on the field or something?”

“The cat standing on his head,” I said. Because that’s what Crenshaw was doing. A headstand on the desk. He was good at it too.

My dad grinned. “The cat standing on his head,” he repeated. He looked at my TV. “Right.”

“Just messing with you,” I said. My voice was trembling a little. “I, uh … I changed the channel. That new Friskies commercial was on.”

My dad ruffled my hair. He looked at me. Really looked, in that way only parents can do.

“You feeling okay, buddy?” he asked. “I know things have been a little crazy lately.”

You have no idea, I thought.

I smiled an extra-big fake smile that I use on my parents sometimes. “Totally,” I said.

The Giants won, 6 to 3.

35

When the game was over, we drove to Pet Food Express. All the way there I thought about Crenshaw.

There’s always a logical explanation, I told myself.

Always.

Maybe I’d dozed off for a minute and dreamed him up.

Or maybe—just maybe—I was going completely bonkers.

My dad was tired from standing so long at Best Buy, so I said I’d go get Aretha’s dog food. “Smallest, cheapest bag,” my dad reminded me.