Excerpt: The Hot Mess of Childhood

"Hey, kid," said one of the dads. "You can't litter."
"I didn't," replied Gus.
"I just saw you throw a bag into the pond," the father said.
Another father added, "I saw it too. What are you trying to do?"
Gus didn't know what to say. One of the dads set down his pole and walked toward the boys.
"It was mine," said Bertrand. "It was the ashes of my pet cat. It died and I'd had it my whole life. The vet cremated him."
The father stopped approaching.
Bertrand continued with an unsteady voice, "I used to take him here all the time. He loved to watch the birds in the trees and look at his reflection in the pond. I just thought it would be nice to bring his remains here, so he could be at peace."
"Geez, kid," the dad who had been approaching said. ""I'm really sorry about that. I didn't know it was your cat."
Duke had already sold it and the parents had backed off, but he turned on the waterworks anyway. Tears ran down his cheeks and he kneeled down to pound the ground.
"Why, Mittens? Why! Why! Why!"
Gus awkwardly patted him on the shoulder with a stiff hand. "It's okay, friend. Mittens is in a better place now."