Counting by 7s(14)

Dung had changed her name to Pattie once she found out what it meant in English. But even though she had been in the United States for twenty-one years, some of her mail still came addressed to Dung. Her kids didn’t appreciate it.



Dell had ignored (even more than usual) his regularly scheduled cases.

He gave the pest known as Quang-ha a geometric coloring book and commanded that the kid complete three pages.

Dell was surprised to see that, instead of complaining, the hostile teenager actually looked enthused to employ colored pencils to fill in blank spaces.

Being careful that no one was watching, Dell then got in his car and took off. He had fifty minutes to take care of his business.



Dell Duke returned to the room without a can of soda, but with a pet carrier. His voice was strangely high-pitched and harsh as he said:

“Quang-ha, you should be done by now. I told you to leave at ten till four.”

Quang-ha continued coloring and didn’t even bother to look up.

Mai and Willow Chance both fixated on the jail-like front panel of the beige plastic crate, where they saw an extremely large orange cat.

Dell Duke was insistent:

“You have to go. My next appointment is here!”

Quang-ha kept working the mustard-colored pencil as if he was getting bonus money for every stroke.

This shouldn’t have surprised Dell because the kid was in counseling for not following classroom instruction and having control problems.

But Dell looked like the one with a control problem. His face flushed deep red and he put the pet carrier down on his desk as he raised his voice.

“Done! Finished! No more coloring!”

Willow seemed to be sucked back into her chair.

And when that happened, Mai got to her feet. She was some kind of wild tiger unleashed into the airless room.

“Don’t you raise your voice at us! He didn’t do anything wrong. If my brother wants to finish the picture, he’ll finish the picture!”

She took in a deep breath and continued.

“He was supposed to have a counseling session, but you were gone the whole time. That’s not right! You are late for your next appointment with this little girl here. And that’s not right either! And here’s something else to chew on: I don’t think you’re allowed to have animals on school property. We could turn you in for that!”





Chapter 10





I felt my blood pressure rise.

But in a good way.

The exotic-looking teenager standing in front of me was bold.

She was yelling at Mr. Dell Duke and the tone of her voice demanded that the world listen as she stood up for her brother and for me.

It was there, in the small, stuffy trailer on the edge of the baking-hot blacktop of the Bakersfield school district parking lot, that I found an older girl who was disappointing only in her failure to speak the language of the mostly obliterated Cahuilla people.

I found Mai Nguyen.



Dell Duke stared at us but he didn’t say anything.

Instead he pulled the only rabbit he had out of a hat, which happened to be a cat from a cage.

He gave us all a wobbly smile and opened the metal door of the plastic pet carrier.

Then he said:

“This is my cat, Cheddar. I thought you might like to meet him.”

So this was my surprise.

I had said that my father was allergic to pet hair, which was why I couldn’t have a dog or a cat or even a pygmy goat.

This was Dell’s attempt to please me. To bond. He brought in his cat. It was strange, but right then in that room, what wasn’t?

The cat took several (in what looked like slow motion) steps onto the desk. I knew that cats behaved in this casual way because they weren’t needy.

They didn’t run and greet a person and slobber with joy.

They didn’t look for validation or recognition.

They didn’t fetch or cower or make big-eyed faces that say: “Love me, please.”

Their failure to care wasn’t just appealing, but seductive.

Because cats made you try.

We all watched as Cheddar sauntered across the desktop, rubbing his freakishly big body against the three shelves of the in-and-out box (where Dell Duke had piled official-looking paperwork that I suddenly felt certain he later simply dumped unread in the large storage closet that was behind his desk).

The huge cat then took a few sniffs and found the whole place not very satisfying.

With no obvious provocation, he leaped down to the floor and bounced right out of the building like a bright-colored, fur-covered soccer ball.



We watched as Cheddar hit the parking lot running, and in moments the fat cat had disappeared.

For 37 straight minutes, we all looked under cars, behind hedges, and around the buildings of the school district administration headquarters for the missing hunk of Cheddar.

But he was not to be found.

Dell claimed that he felt bad about this, but oddly it seemed that Mai and I felt much worse.

Finally, after agreeing to stop our search, we all returned to Dell’s office to make LOST CAT flyers.



Dell didn’t have any photos of his cat, which also struck me as strange because from everything that I’d read, photographing a pet seemed to be where most animal owners found their greatest joy.