Chapter Two

“You are my sunshine my only sunshine.  You make me happy, when skies are grey,” sang Donald, as he walked down the dusty farm road in front of his house.  “You’ll never know de-” just then, interrupting Donald, the evil cat that had leapt on his face jumped through the cornfields to attack Donald again.  “Jumping tar nations!” yelled Donald.  But just as the cat was one inch away from his face, Donald somehow mustered up the courage to move his head in a rather quick motion to the right, dodging it. “Gee wilickers, I dodged it.  I...” Then the black cat started to say something “Mhhhmmmm learned the Kitty Sense have you?” the cat commented with a smile.  “Much more have you to learn.”

          “GREAT SCOTT!  You got a hair cut!  Wait a second, Slider is no simpleton, something else is out of the ordinary… A talking cat!” 

          “Yes, well, we know you’re no Einstein.  I have mastered many things, including a power beyond mortals.”

          “Well, for a small furry gentleman you could put up a scuffle yesterday, and what is this Kitty Sense you speak of?”

          “Young human, yesterday I chose you to be the heir of my power and the Kitty Sense is just the beginning; now your senses are sharpened, such as hearing, sight and smell, and you are able to notice things before they happen and avoid them.”  The cat continued, “You, my courageous lad, are meant for a greater destiny than you might all well know.  You are the chosen one.”

          “Wha-wha-...why me?  Why did you choose a gentleman like me?  What do you mean I’m chosen?  Do you see this scar you gave to me?  Why?  Why did you do this?  Why can you talk?  How did you cut your hair?” questioned Donald.  “How am I still alive?  Who created you?  What...” Donald quit speaking as his mother called.

          “Donald, Donald, time to come in.   It’s 4:30 p.m. Donald. DONALD, WHERE ARE YOU?”

          “Golly.  Cat, I gotta skedaddle.”

          “Wait!” yelled the cat.  “Manners have you not?  Listen boy.  I want you to meet me here tomorrow at noon.  I will answer all of your questions and will even throw in a bowl of milk if my priorities are all met.”

          “Golly, now that you mention milk….”  Donald ran off yelling, “I will be here tomorrow at noon.  Bye, now!”

          Donald burst into his house.  His mom yelled, “Donald, slow down!”

          Donald ran into the kitchen, threw out his youthful little hands, and shoved his mother into a wall.  He then frantically grabbed the jar of milk on the table that his mother had been drinking and scarped it down in three seconds.

Author's Note

Comments on repetition are against what the novel is establishing