The little ginger kitten had been spotted on the morning walk, but Miss Nora organised a round of DuckDuckGoose and the curious cat never got closer. It was as orange as Lennys own fur, though nobody could decide whether its whiskers were truly ambercoloured. Lennys mother had once told him the sun had kissed the kitten, and she had kissed Lenny too before she passed away. Since that day no one had kissed him again. His father was always in a hurry, and for some reason Grandmother never seemed to like Lenny.
If the sun had kissed the kitten, could it be the child of sunlight? Did a ginger kitten ever get a sunkiss? And do kittens even have eyelashes? Those questions swirled in Lennys mind during nap time.
Lenny, why are you still awake? Miss Nora smoothed his blanket. Close your eyes, love. He obeyed, but sleep slipped through his fingers. He lay listening outside the staff room, where Miss Nora was arguing with someone.
How long are we supposed to keep this up? One assistant for two groups? With the number of children we have, its absurd. Wholl work for that pay? a voice muttered.
Good thing Annas gone, another replied. She wasnt any good with the kids.
Dont say that, Miss Nora hissed. Well never sort this out. The room fell silent.
Anna Vale, the former preschool nanny, had terrified Lenny. She often scolded the children, and if they refused the lumpy porridge she could shove the spoon so hard it hurt their tongues. One day she slammed the spoon down on Lennys tongue, making him vomit onto the table. He screamed; Miss Nora rushed to wash him and change his clothes, and Anna was reprimanded. Soon, after a complaint, Anna never returned to the nursery.
Later that evening, Lenny slipped out again, hoping to glimpse the kitten. He saw only a flash of ginger tail disappearing behind the hedges near the gazebo, then his father appeared. Since his mothers death his father barely spoke to Lenny, barely noticed him. He dropped Lenny off from school and sent him to his room. One night Lenny overheard Grandmother snapping at his father.
Simon, Ive told you a hundred times youre raising a child that isnt yours. He doesnt even look like you!
Mom, he looks like Nadine, Lennys father muttered.
He barely resembles her. You need a paternity test. Its easier than dealing with another mans boy.
Lenny could not make sense of the angry tones that had become his constant backdrop.
The next morning a new nanny arrived. She was nothing like the last. She whispered softly to the children, and they ate without protest. Lenny set his spoon down, eyes fixed on her.
Hello! Whats your name? Lenny, right? Im Irene Sinclair. Why arent you eating, Lenny? she asked.
I dont like the lumps in the porridge, he replied.
Lenny, Ill tell you a secret I dont like those lumps either, and I never force a child to eat them. If you find a lump, just leave it on the plate. Well see who has the most at the end of the day.
It sparked his curiosity. He began hunting for lumps, only to discover there were hardly any. In his search he swallowed the porridge without noticing. Irene praised him, calling him a big champ. No one had praised Lenny in ages, and a warm glow spread through him.
From then on he loved preschool even more. Irene helped the head teacher wherever she could, and the children quickly grew attached to her. One day Miss Nora asked Irene to cover the children during nap time while she stepped into the principals office. The room was hushed; only Lenny lay restless.
Lenny, why cant you sleep? Irene brushed his hair.
Did you know my mum is up in heaven? he whispered.
A sudden choke rose in Irenes throat. She had taken an instant liking to this quiet, gingerhaired boy. She had already noticed that Lenny was shuffled between his everrushing father and a sharptongued old womanGrandmotherwhile his mother was never there.
No, love, I didnt know, she said gently.
And the sun kissed me too, Lenny added.
I saw that, Irene smiled. Do kittens have eyelashes?
I think so. Why do you ask?
Lenny whispered the whole story: the ginger kitten hiding in the hedges, the suns kiss, and his longing for a brotherany brother, even a catbecause no one else kissed him like his mother used to.
Do kittens kiss children? he asked, his voice trembling.
Irene, fighting back tears, stroked his tousled curls and nodded. Yes, Lenny, kittens can kiss children. Their tongues are a bit rough, though. Now get some sleep, alright?
Rough tongues? Lenny repeated, eyes closing as sleep finally took him.
Later, the head teacher confided in Irene. Lennys mother was in foster care; she died not long ago. His stepgrandmother never accepted his mothers partner. The father was told the child wasnt his. The boy is cleanshaven and tidy, but hes stopped smiling. He used to be as bright as the sun, just like his mother.
Weeks passed and Lenny stopped coming to preschool. A nasty virus was sweeping through town, and the summer heat made it worse. He didnt return for a week, then two.
Nina, he wont ever come back, Irene heard Miss Nolan say, her voice hard. Lennys father had applied to place him in a childrens home. The principal arrived with paperwork.
A childrens home? After all that? Irene gasped. Even with a living father and grandmother?
Yes, Miss Nolan said. Turns out his father isnt his biological dad. DNA tests proved it. Five years he was raised as theirs, then sent to care. Who does that?
Irene walked home in a fog, the image of Lennys trusting face burned in her mindDo kittens have eyelashes? Suddenly, a bright ginger ball rolled out from behind the preschool fence. She knelt, heart pounding, and scooped up a muddy, teenagelooking kitten. It was the very one Lenny had spoken of.
She cradled the stray, noting the lack of any feline eyelashes. Late that night, when her husband, Tom, came home exhausted from work, the clean, fed kitten bounded to meet him.
Looks like weve got a new member, Tom laughed. Will it ruin the sofa?
Seeing his wifes worried eyes, Tom tried to reassure her.
Did something happen with your mother? At work?
They talked until dawn. Finally Tom asked, Are you sure it isnt a stray you just found?
Irene was sure. She had taken the job at the nursery because she had no children of her ownshe could at least help other kids. Tom tried to convince her that everything would sort out, that doctors were trying, but doubts lingered. She only knew one thing: Lenny could not end up in a childrens home, not while a stray kitten needed a home of its own.
The paperwork, the fostercare approvals, the psychologist reportseverything fell into place. Toms salary was decent, the house was spacious, and the nurserys headmistress had pulled strings to keep Lenny in the school. Lennys grandparents called from the north, shouting that their grandson should visit them at once.
When Lenny was finally allowed to return, he smiled faintly, still shocked that patience would lead him back to Irenes care. At home, the ginger kitten curled up beside his pillow, promising quiet companionship.
Everyone, look! Lennys back! the children cheered as he entered the classroom.
Good morning, Lenny! Miss Nolan called. And did you know kittens have no eyelashes? Their tongues really are rough!
Two years later Lenny will be headed to Year One. Hell be sent off by his mothers memory, his father, two grandmothers, a grandfather and his little sister, all gathered to watch him step into the next chapterhand in hand with the ginger kitten that once prowled the hedges, now forever his silent, fuzzy brother.
