No math, no homework, no getting up early for two weeks. Yippee! Maile was lying on the bed, enjoying the first days of Christmas vacation, when she heard Tutu's scolding voice.

"Cat! Scram!"

Maile looked out her bedroom window and saw Tutu in the front yard with a broomstick, trying to herd a big, fluffy black-and-white cat onto the street.

"Auwe! You rascal, scratching at my rose bushes!"

Dirt and rose petals were scattered across the sidewalk. Maile knew Tutu wouldn't hurt the cat. She might use a scolding voice, but she really had a soft spot for animals. And for grandchildren. Tutu had moved in with Maile and her family last year, after Popo died.

Maile ran outside in her pajamas, which often doubled for clothes on holidays and weekends when her mom didn't notice. The cat sat on the sidewalk, starting at Tutu with big, green eyes. Maile knelt by the cat and held out her hand. The cat turned its head to stare at Maile but did not move from the sidewalk.

"Tutu, can we keep the cat?"

"No, Maile. The cat is pretty but we have enough going on around here without a cat to take care of. And it probably belongs to someone, anyway." The fluffy cat blinked at Tutu, tossed its head and strutted down the street with its tail in the air.

Maile quickly forgot about the cat and did what any fourth-grade kid would do on the first day of Christmas vacation: eat, play, watch TV, go on the computer and avoid chores or anything useful or productive.

The next day, chore avoidance came to an end. Maile had to help Tutu with the laundry. She took a load of clothes from the dryer and was walking past the mango tree when she felt something scratch her head. Maile looked up, and the big bundle of black-and-white fur jumped from the mango tree and landed at her feet. It was the cat from the day before.

The cat sat on the grass, staring at Maile. Then it did something Maile had never seen a cat do — or imagined a cat could do. Maile called to Tutu, who was making dinner in the kitchen. "Tutu! The cat, he's back, and he jumped out of the tree and he stuck his tongue out at me!"

Just then, Maile's Dad and Mom drove up and asked her to come inside. Over dinner, Maile told everyone what the cat had done, but no one believed her. "Maile, cats can jump out of trees, but they don't stick out their tongues," Dad said. "It must have been just yawning." Mom gave Maile a kind smile.

"But, Dad, that wasn't it. I know what a yawn looks like. That cat is so rascal! I'm going to name him Kolohe." Maile's older brother Ben shot her the familiar what-a-pain-you-are look.

While Maile and Ben were doing the dishes, he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Here, kitty, kitty. See me. I swat people and jump out of mango trees and stick tongue at 9-year-old girls."

Maile slapped him with the dishcloth. But before a full-scale war could erupt, Dad piled the family in the car for a drive Downtown to look at the Christmas lights.

On Christmas Eve afternoon, Tutu asked Maile to wrap a present for Mom. Maile got the wrapping stuff and went out on the front porch, away from where Mom was working. As she sat on the steps, tying the bow, she sensed eyes on her. She looked up, startled. There was the black-and-white cat, sitting by the porch, with its big, green eyes fixed on her.

"Hey, Kolohe," she called, softly. "Would you like to play with some ribbon?"

Maile dangled a piece of ribbon in front of the cat. Kolohe batted the ribbon, catching the ribbon in its claws. Maile tried to grab the ribbon back, but the cat swallowed it and scampered through the open front door into the house. "Stop!," Maile called, as Kolohe disappeared behind the Christmas tree in the living room.

Maile tried to coax the cat out.

"Here, kitty, come!," she called, softly. Kolohe wouldn't budge. Maile went into the kitchen and returned with the broom. Kolohe was in front of the Christmas tree, standing over a present, gagging and making dreadful sounds. Red ribbon vomit surged from the cat's mouth and poured over the present.

"Gross!" Ben exclaimed, walking into the living room. "And that's my present, too!"

"Sorry, I was trying to get him out of here," Maile said. "It's Kolohe."

"Kolohe, shamohe, it barfed on my present!," Ben replied.

Maile tried to force the cat out the front door but it ran behind the Christmas tree again and scrambled, branch by branch, to the top. The tree shook, shivered and bent, flipping the cat across the room. Kolohe landed on all four paws and sauntered out the front door.

Ben said, "Cool! A catapulting cat. But do something about the barf on my present."

"Sorry. I'll clean it up, but promise, promise, promise not to tell Mom and Dad or Tutu!"

Ben agreed, for a price: all his chores for the rest of Christmas vacation.

Maile cleaned up the ribbon mess and rewrapped Ben's present, then went back to the front porch to finish Mom's present. She hummed Christmas songs and wondered how early her parents would let her and Ben and the cousins get up in the morning. Four o'clock seemed like a reasonable hour. Maile was deep in Christmas thoughts when she heard a scratching noise at the side of the porch and went to investigate. There was the black-and-white cat, digging at the ground under Tutu's rose bushes.

"Not again, Kolohe!"

Then Maile caught a glimpse of something gold and shiny half-buried under the rose bush. Kolohe stopped digging and stared at Maile as if to say, "Look what I found!" Maile stooped and picked up the object. It was a ring, a plain gold band.

She turned it over in her hands and saw writing engraved inside the ring: "Love You Forever 1957." Maile's heart caught in her throat. It was Tutu's wedding ring. Tutu had lost it a few months after moving in with Maile's family. They had all helped her look for the ring, but she finally told them to stop; it was just a ring, it wasn't worth looking for anymore. But Maile knew it bothered Tutu. She had seen Tutu touching her finger where her ring used to be and sometimes it looked as though she was going to cry.

Maile wanted to dash into the house and give the ring to Tutu. But she slipped the ring into her pocket while she thought about how to make this special for her grandmother.

Later, after Christmas dinner, she sneaked off to her room. She cleaned and polished the ring and wrapped it carefully in tissue, then placed it in a small box and tied it with gold ribbon. The card read: "To Tutu From Kolohe."

On Christmas morning, Maile could hardly stand the excitement. Her stomach somersaulted and flipped. She was tearing into her presents, but also watching Tutu. She thought she would die, waiting for Tutu to get to the small box. When Tutu finally picked up the box and read the card she looked up, puzzled. "Kolohe? What is this?"

Maile just smiled and watched as Tutu untied the ribbon and slowly removed the wrapping paper. Time seemed to stand still as Tutu took the lid off the box and reached into the tissue paper. She picked up the gold ring and turned it over and over in her hands. She read the inscription inside the ring. Tutu looked up at Maile and tears streamed down her face. "Maile. But what ... how ... ?" Tutu could not get the words out.

Maile hugged Tutu and they both cried. " Tutu, it was Kolohe. He was scratching in your rose bushes again yesterday. And he found your ring."

The cousins were buzzing with questions about Kolohe. Maile told everything that had happened with the rascally cat. "Wow!," her older cousin said. "That's one awesome cat!"

"Maile," Dad said. "That cat can very well be trying to adopt you. Let's check with the animal shelter tomorrow. If no one claims Kolohe, would you like to have him? As an outdoor cat, that is?"

Maile nodded happily.

Several days later, Maile sat on the front porch, Kolohe at her feet. This was turning out to be a pretty good Christmas. Ben said he would do his own chores, Maile had Kolohe, and she understood, really understood, what it was to get Christmas inside, all the way inside, deep into her heart.