kitten.’’
Cody smiled up at the Snake man. Maybe not all snakes were bad. Maybe Snake man wasn’t bad. ‘‘Mine. Mine now?’’ he asked, just to make sure.
‘‘Yes, she is yours,’’ Snake man said. ‘‘But first you need to do one more thing for me. Can you do one more thing for me, Cody?’’
Say no, Say no.
‘‘No,’’ he said.
Snake man looked surprised. ‘‘Oh, that’s too bad. Then I have to take her away.’’
Cody tried to hold on to the kitten, but the Snake man was fast. He snatched up the kitten and took her away.
‘‘No!’’ he cried.
The Snake man stood. He was tall, and powerful, and angry. He held the kitten out by the back of her neck. Kitten twisted and mewed and shook. ‘‘That was a bad answer, Cody,’’ Snake man said. ‘‘You’ve done a very bad thing. And since you don’t want a friend, I’ll have to kill her now.’’
The Snake man put both hands around the kitten, one all the way over her head. He twisted his hands.
‘‘No!’’ Cody jumped up and grabbed for Kitten. He was almost as tall as Snake man, but Snake man was faster. Much faster. He pulled the kitten out of Cody’s reach.
‘‘If you want Kitten to live, you must do magic for me. You must pretend to be someone else again.’’
No, no, no, no!
The kitten gave out one small mew, muffled by the Snake man’s hand.
‘‘Please,’’ Cody said. ‘‘Don’t hurt her. Please?’’
‘‘Do magic for me.’’
No!
Somewhere inside the Snake man’s hands, the kitten mewed, but she did not move. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She was doing what Snake man wanted her to do.
‘‘You can have a friend, Cody. She’s right here. All you have to do is say yes.’’
No!
‘‘Yes,’’ Cody whispered.
‘‘Good, Cody, good,’’ Snake man said. ‘‘I’m proud of you. You did a good thing.’’ He took his hand off the kitten’s head, but still held her tightly in one fist. Kitten shook her head and sneezed, and Cody might have laughed about that, but he was too sad. He knew Snake man wanted him to do a bad thing. He knew it would be another secret he had to keep. He didn’t want to keep any more secrets. He didn’t want to be bad again.
‘‘Now, I’m going to hold the kitten so you can use both your hands, okay?’’ Snake man said.
Cody nodded. What else could he do? He didn’t want his friend to die.
‘‘Good.’’ Snake man walked over to the door. There was a chair in the corner, and on that chair was a little box that could fit in Cody’s pocket. The box was made out of black metal and glass and had so many loops of wire wrapped around it, it looked like a square of spaghetti.
Snake man pushed the chair with the little box on the seat over to Cody.
‘‘Remember this little box, Cody? It is very rare. The only one of its kind in the world. Do you like it?’’
Cody liked the little box. He knew it was full of magic. But that was part of what made it bad. Cody was not supposed to touch magic. Not back at the home, not in the park, not anywhere. Usually, he didn’t mind. Sometimes his guardians would do little things with magic, like help a seed sprout, make the lightbulbs turn a pretty color, or snap their fingers and make a spark. But Cody only did bad things with magic, which was why he couldn’t touch it anymore. That was okay, because magic made his head itch on the inside.
But this box was special. The magic inside of it was easy to touch and easy to use. The Snake man said it was a very rare box, and the wires around it were rare too. Cody thought rare meant good. He secretly loved the box because the last time he touched the magic inside of it, he didn’t feel tired, and his head didn’t itch.
‘‘Now,’’ Snake