Unsaid: A Novel by Neil Abramson Page A

A lot of lookers, but no takers.”
    Joshua nods in knowing sympathy. “Well, keep trying. Everyone doing okay in there?” Joshua peers over the side of the carton and sees eight small kittens crawling over one another and a hot-water bottle.
    “I think so, but the little guy, Tiny Pete? He’s not taking to the dropper so well.”
    “Let’s have a look,” Joshua says as he gently pulls the smallestkitten out of the box. Joshua checks Pete’s eyes and mouth and gently squeezes the kitten’s belly. The kitten gives a little squeak in response. “I think he’s basically okay, but why don’t you leave these guys with me today and I’ll watch them while you’re at school.”
    “That’d be great. I really didn’t want to leave them home alone. You know how Mom can be.”
    Jimmy’s mom hates the strays. After the death of her son, she hated anything that asked for attention—including, on most days, the disfigured son who survived. The fact that every stray is named Pete probably doesn’t help.
    “Thanks, Dr. Marks. You’re a real lifesaver.”
    “Nope,” Joshua says as he places Tiny Pete back in the box containing his brothers and sisters. “You are.”
    A timid knock on the front window interrupts them. Sally Hanson motions through the glass for Joshua to unlock the door, and he quickly complies.
    “I’m sorry to catch you so early,” Sally says as soon as she steps inside, “but I needed to see you.”
    I always assumed that Joshua knew the other veterinarian’s employees in town as I did—by face perhaps, but not by name, and certainly not by first name. In fact, I don’t ever recall Sally or any other employee of Dr. Thorton visiting our office socially or otherwise.
    Joshua introduces Jimmy as his “friend,” and I can see that Jimmy beams at this description.
    For one brief moment, Sally pauses over Jimmy’s scar before she catches herself and extends her hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Jimmy.” Sally forces her eyes away from the boy’s face and to the box of kittens. “Those are some very cute-looking critters,” she tells him.
    “Jimmy found this brood behind the high school.”
    “Do you have any animals, Ms. Hanson?” Jimmy asks.
    “Not anymore. I’ve outlived them all, I’m afraid.”
    “How about a new beginning then?” Jimmy lifts Tiny Pete from the carton and gives Sally his most dazzling smile. “You could have one. Just promise to give him a loving home.”
    “Oh, I wish I could. I really do.”
    “Please? Pete needs someone like you. He’s so small.”
    Sally’s eyes plead with Joshua for a rescue from the hard sell.
    “It’s time for you to head off to school, pal,” Joshua says.
    Jimmy nods his understanding. He’s not a stupid boy. He puts on his coat and collects his book bag. “Well, I expect these guys may be around for a while, so if you should change your mind…”
    “I just may do that,” Sally tells him, but he knows that she doesn’t really mean it. “And thank you for your work,” Sally adds. “It’s good to know that you’re out there.”
    Jimmy shrugs off the compliment. “Anyone else would do the same thing.”
    I know Sally would disagree. I can tell it by the look on her face when she hears Jimmy’s words. She knows that it’s not really like that out there. She knows that you can pass a hundred people on the street and not one of them would have done the same thing. She knows that Jimmy’s affection for the creatures he saves will be a weakness in dealing with his own kind, when they laugh at his ear, stare at his scar, and ridicule his compassion. Sally knows—personally and painfully—that his love of animals can never ever inoculate him against malice, guile, or judgment.
    Sally and I are sisters in this knowledge. I could never bring myself to warn Jimmy in life. Sally apparently cannot, either, and tells the boy only, “Let’s hope so. But you actually did it.”
    Joshua turns to the boy. “Why don’t you come in