by Annie Bryant
Kelley’s sobs grew louder. Katani was super aware that people were staring. However, at this point she didn’t care. Marty had run away, but it was Kelley who had almost rescued him. Katani was proud of her sister, even though her behavior looked strange to the onlookers.
Charlotte was the first of the BSG to catch up with them. “Where’s Marty?” Charlotte asked.
Hearing the name made Kelley wail louder.
Maeve and Isabel rushed over to them.
“What’s the matter? Is she hurt?”
“No, no…it’s okay, Kelley,” Katani said, trying to soothe her sister.
“Where’s Marty?” Charlotte asked again.
Maeve tried to soothe Kelley by patting her back, but Kelley shook her head back and forth, twisted away, and sobbed into the grass. Maeve pulled her hand back. “Sorry,” she whispered to Katani.
“What can we do to help?” Isabel asked.
“Nothing. Go look for Marty. I need to—to take Kelley home,” Katani told her friends.
“Where is Marty?” Charlotte asked for the third time. Why wasn’t anyone answering her?
Katani pulled the leash from beneath her sister, who was beginning to calm down. She held it up so that the empty collar swung in the breeze.
Katani glanced up at Charlotte’s shocked face.
“Which way?” was all she asked.
Katani pointed to the stand of trees down the hill and near the creek, and Charlotte disappeared.
Maeve and Isabel stayed behind to help Katani calm Kelley down.
Maeve started singing Kelley’s favorite song. “Happy Birthday to you…”
Kelley shook her head, but that didn’t stop Maeve. She kept right on singing. Eventually, Kelley quieted and began to sing with Maeve. They sang “Happy Birthday” for each one of the Beacon Street Girls.
“Hey, where’d you guys go?” Avery asked as she arrived at the scene. “I got another line drive. You missed it.” She took a big slurp of a Sno-Cone.
Isabel put her finger to her lips and nodded toward Kelley.
“What’s going on?” Avery whispered.
“Later,” Isabel mouthed to Avery.
Avery shifted her weight from foot to foot. Katani just knew what Avery was going to say next. Katani waved her hand in the air and shook her head, but she couldn’t stop Avery from speaking.
“Hey, does Charlotte have Marty?” Avery asked.
Instantly, Katani, Isabel, and Maeve all said, “SHHHHH!” at the same time.
Kelley shook her head at Avery. “Avery, Marty’s lost. He ran after a squirrel right before our eyes.” She snapped her fingers and said, “You better find him or it will just be horrible.”
Katani sighed. Kelley could switch on and off so fast.
Avery’s eyes popped wide open. “What do you mean?”
Katani took the leash, wadded it up behind her back in a small little ball so that Kelley wouldn’t see it, and handed it to Maeve. She glanced down the hill. In the distance, she could hear the echo of Charlotte calling Marty’s name.
Avery dropped her Sno-Cone and looked at the faces of her friends. She couldn’t quite believe what they were saying.
“I have to take Kelley home,” Katani said.
“Do you need help?” Isabel asked.
“No. I think I got it. The sooner I get her out of this crowd, the better. You guys should help Charlotte.”
Blame Game
Maeve watched Katani and Kelley disappear into the crowd.
“So what’s going on?” Avery asked in a trembling voice.
“Marty is…” Isabel said sharply.
“What happened?” Avery’s knees began to shake.
Charlotte came running back. Even though she tried to look composed, Maeve could see where tears had left streaks on her face. “Is Kelley all right?” she asked, still panting.
“Will someone please tell me what happened?” Avery pleaded.
Maeve sucked in her breath, wondering who was going to tell Avery. She twisted the leash nervously behind her back.
Charlotte grabbed the leash from Maeve’s hand and held it up. “This is what happened!” she yelled.
Avery gasped. “Is that…Marty’s? How?…When?…” Avery was scared. She had never seen Charlotte so worked up.
“Gee…maybe it happened while someone was in the batting cage,” Charlotte spat out.
“But Marty was…in my bag…I was sure he’d be okay…He’s been fine in there before.”
“Marty is an escape artist! You know that! I know that! We ALL know that!” Charlotte said, looking around at Isabel and Maeve before turning back to glare at Avery.
New tears had started to appear in Charlotte’s eyes.
Maeve was shocked by Charlotte’s outburst. She’d never heard Charlotte raise her voice at anyone before.
“I’ve already lost my poor kitty cat, Orangina, because of those boys who let him loose in the streets of Paris, and now…I’ve lost…we’ve lost Marty!” Charlotte sobbed, burying her face in Isabel’s shoulder.
Avery bit her lip. “Which way did he go? Did you call him? Did you offer him his favorite treat? Did you whistle?”
“Wooooo whooooo! Look at me! I can hit major league pitches!” Charlotte mimicked Avery’s victory dance in the batting cage. “Of course I whistled, I yelled, and I crawled in the bushes!!”
Avery looked down at her feet.
“Charlotte, yelling at Avery isn’t going to help,” Maeve said firmly, as she put her hand on Charlotte’s arm.
Charlotte spun around to face her. “How can she imply that I didn’t do a good job looking for him when she’s the one that got him lost in the first place?” Charlotte asked. Then she faced Avery. “For your information, Miss Major League Hitter, he’s gone. G-O-N-E! And he doesn’t have his collar on…so even if someone does find him, they won’t be able to call. They won’t know who to return him to! There’s no hope.”
Avery’s lip trembled, but she looked determined. “Well, we can’t just stand here and yell at each other. Let’s do something about it!”
“I WAS doing something about it. But it’s just no use. He’s gone!”
Isabel looked at Maeve and bit her lip. “Charlotte…why don’t we go home to make some fliers. If you type up the copy, I can design it,” Isabel offered. Charlotte couldn’t answer. Her shoulders were slumped and she couldn’t look at Avery.
Maeve nodded at this suggestion. “Great idea, Isabel,” she said with enthusiasm. “Something positive to focus on.”
“Come on, Charlotte, if we make the fliers now, we can still hand them out to people at the celebration. The sooner the better,” Isabel said. She turned back and looked at Maeve. With her eyes she looked and nodded toward Avery. Maeve was sure she knew exactly what Isabel was saying without saying a word…you handle Avery; I’ll take care of Charlotte.
“Do you want me to help?” Avery asked timidly.
“I think you have done enough,” Charlotte snapped.
Avery looked deflated as she watched Isabel and Charlotte walk away. Charlotte never got mad at anybody; Avery felt really terrible. What had started off as an incredible day was now a nightmare.
“Do you know what direction he went?” Avery asked with a sniff.
Maeve put her arm around Avery, who seemed to be shrinking smaller and smaller. “Katani saw him run down the hill and into the woods near the creek,” Maeve told her.
Avery blinked back a tear, sucked in a ragged breath, and started off in that direction.
“I’ll go with you,” Maeve offered.
Avery shook her head. “I think you should help the others with the flier,” she said.
“Come on, Avery,” Maeve said, grabbing her hand. “Don’t go there. Charlotte’s just upset. It’s not your fault. There was a squirrel. She didn’t tell you that. And Kelley…you know how much Kelley loves that dog. She ran after him and then Marty got all wound up. It wasn’t your fault, Avery. Really, it wasn’t.”
“I just hate to think of poor little Marty off all alone in the woods somewhere,” Avery said. “Like all those lost pets from the hurricanes.”
“He isn’t all alone,” Maeve reassured her. “He has Happy Lucky Thingy with him.”
CHAPTER
5
In Search of the Great Squirrel Hunter
Isabel sat down on the compass rose that she had drawn in the Tower and motioned for Charlotte to sit down as well. Since there were only four window seats and five BSG, this canvas floor cover was Isabel’s special Tower space. Charlotte tried to steady her jumbled nerves.
Charlotte and her father had traveled the world. She’d lived on four different continents after her mother died and seen some pretty amazing things. But of all the places in the world she had visited, it was in Brookline, in the middle of the Tower, which felt the most like home.
Twirling a piece of her long honey-blonde hair, Charlotte reminisced about the many slumber parties the Beacon Street Girls had enjoyed in the Tower. Marty had always added to the fun by doing all sorts of crazy things, like attacking Maeve’s pink fuzzy slippers or pouncing on pieces of pizza crusts. She couldn’t imagine what life would be like without Marty.
Both girls moved back and stared at the compass on the floor. It seemed to say that from this spot there were many different ways to look at things. Many different directions one could choose to go.
Charlotte held a clipboard on her lap, trying to think of the perfect words to describe Marty.
“What if…” Charlotte didn’t want to say the unthinkable, but she couldn’t help it. “What if we never find Marty?”
Isabel put her hand on Charlotte’s arm. “You concentrate on the words. I’ll sketch a design.”
Charlotte nodded. She closed her eyes and Ms. Rodriguez’s words came back to her. “Details! Telling details is what will make your writing come alive.”
Yes, Charlotte thought. Ms. R was right.
Charlotte shut her eyes and waited until she saw the image of Marty in her head. He was a mutt. That didn’t help. What had they decided? That he was probably terrier and something else that no one could figure out. Gray with large, dark brown eyes. Last seen in the park headed toward the creek with his favorite chew toy, Happy Lucky Thingy.
She needed an emotional tug here. She made a list.
-Beloved pet
-Wiggly, cute bundle of energy
-Small dog, big attitude
-Answers to the name Marty or “Little Dude”
“You finish up the sketch and I’ll see if I can get this all on one page,” Charlotte called over her shoulder as she disappeared through the trapdoor of the Tower and down the ladder.
After booting up her computer, she chose a bold font and a type size as large as possible to keep all the information on one page.
Isabel joined her about fifteen minutes later. Not only had she sketched an adorable picture of Marty, but she had caricatures of the five girls frowning at the bottom of the page.
“How strange,” Charlotte commented as she gazed at Isabel’s drawing. “Just this morning Maeve was wishing she had a caricature of herself.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly what she had in mind,” Isabel surmised.
Mr. Ramsey arrived home just as they were ready to print out lots of copies.
“Let’s let my dad look at it first,” suggested Charlotte.
“What’s this?” Mr. Ramsey asked, looking at the flier. “Oh, no! When did this happen?”
Opening her mouth, Charlotte attempted to tell her father what happened, but tears flooded her eyes and she couldn’t seem to get anything but a slight whimper out. Isabel quickly explained the whole story.
Suddenly, it was all sounding like an accident. Isabel forgot to mention how this was all Avery’s fault or how Charlotte searched for Marty by crawling through the prickly scrub along the creek bed.
Charlotte wanted to tell her father the rest of the story, the real story, but when she tried to speak, nothing came out. Mr. Ramsey put his arms around his daughter.
“We have to get going,” Isabel said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ramsey. I know Charlotte’s really upset, but we need to get these fliers on the street. The sooner we do, the sooner we might find Marty.”
“Just a minute, Isabel,” Mr. Ramsey said. “Charlotte needs to calm down before she goes anywhere. I want you to sit down and take a few deep breaths.” Mr. Ramsey left to get Charlotte a big glass of cold water.
As she took the glass from her dad, her hands shook. She gulped down a nice cold sip, wondering for a second if Marty was thirsty. She thought of all the puddles around and worried that he might drink something that could make him sick. What if he was sick? What if he was really sick and helpless somewhere out there in the woods, or in a dark, scary alley all alone?
“Charlotte…let’s focus on the problem at hand,” Mr. Ramsey said.
“Marty being lost?”
“Not exactly.”
Mr. Ramsey stroked his chin as he gazed at the flier. “The important thing is that people get a good look at Marty. And as delightful as your illustrations of five sad Beacon Street Girls are, Isabel, it might be a little distracting.”
Charlotte was afraid her father had hurt Isabel’s feelings, but when she glanced at Isabel, she saw she was nodding as if what he had said made perfect sense.
“Secondly,” Mr. Ramsey said, “It’s not safe to put your phone number or e-mail address on the flier. Also, why don’t we scan in Marty’s photo? That will really command attention. How about grabbing that photo of Marty over there on the fridge?”
“But Dad, how will—”
“Let me finish…. I can create a website where you can gather information. We can call it…let’s see…. How about www.wheresmarty.com?” he asked.
The girls looked at each other with excitement. A Where’s Marty website. Charlotte gave her father a big hug.
While Mr. Ramsey checked to make sure no one owned the web address, Charlotte focused on the flier in front of her, crossing out the cartoon faces as well as the phone number and e-mail address. She was already starting to catch her breath and with a sip of cold water every now and then, she was beginning to think a bit more clearly, too.
“Dad?” she asked in a steadier voice. “Do you think we should offer some sort of reward? Maybe that would make someone give Marty back.”
“I think a modest reward might be a good idea,” he said after some thought.
Charlotte wrote “REWARD” at the very top of the page and held her pen, waiting for the dollar amount.
“How about a hundred dollars?” he asked.
Charlotte nodded. It was more than she expected. More than she hoped for.
The girls disappeared into Charlotte’s room and quickly made the changes.
They gave the flier to Mr. Ramsey for final approval. He quickly gave it a thumbs-up. “This looks great, girls. Why don’t you take it down to Print and Copy? I’ll buy the web address and start building the site.”
“We can get more for our money at the Copy Cafe on Beacon Street,” Charlotte said.
“We’ll need strong pushpins,” Isabel thought out loud. “And staplers too.”
Mr. Ramsey gathered up a few rolls of tape, put some pushpins in a Baggie, and grabbed a stapler from his office. “Maybe Miss Pierce can loan you another stapler.”
Charlotte and Isabel ran downstairs and knocked on the door that led to Miss Pierce’s apartment. Their landlady, the reclusive Miss Pierce, opened the door.
“May I borrow a stapler?” Charlotte asked.
“Well, of course you may, Charlotte,” the mysterious little woman answered. “My dear, is there anything wrong?” Miss Pierce inquired.
Charlotte had a difficult time telling the story, or even thinking about Marty being lost anymore. She just wanted to hang fliers. She needed to do something. Thankfully, Isabel explained the whole situation.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Miss Pierce, p
lacing her hand on top of Charlotte’s. “I will program my telescope to take pictures of Brookline. If Marty is running loose, we will spot him.” Miss Pierce was a retired astronomer and had a telescope on top of the Tower.
“Thank you so much,” Isabel and Charlotte said in unison as Miss Pierce turned to get a stapler for the girls.
Charlotte was grateful that everyone was being so helpful. She hoped that all of their efforts would bring Marty home—safe and sound. Right now, the only thing that mattered to her was finding Marty.
Have You Seen…
“We better hurry. It’s getting dark more quickly these days,” Isabel said as she put on her coat. “After we go to the Copy Cafe, we can split up from there.”
Charlotte just nodded as she threw on her coat. She still felt angry. Isabel had made it seem like losing Marty had all been an unavoidable accident when she told her father and Miss Pierce what had happened. Why hadn’t Isabel mentioned that Avery was supposed to be watching Marty? Why was everyone being so protective of someone who said they loved dogs, but hadn’t been paying attention? It hadn’t been an accident at all. It had happened because Avery was more interested in the batting cage than taking care of Marty. And now Marty might be lost forever…just like Orangina, her poor kitty cat that she had left behind in Paris. The thought burned Charlotte up inside. The yellow Victorian wouldn’t be the same without Marty—nor would the Beacon Street Girls. She wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye.
Isabel walked silently beside Charlotte as they hurried toward downtown.
As they headed out into the sunny afternoon, all Charlotte could think about were the pictures and TV images of the lost animals from the hurricane. She felt a pang of panic. What if they couldn’t find Marty?
“How many copies?” the clerk at Copy Cafe asked when they handed him the flier.
“I have a five,” Isabel said.
“I have a ten,” Charlotte said. “Can we get as many copies as fifteen dollars will buy? That should be enough to get started.”
When Charlotte had stuffed the ten dollar bill in her pocket this morning, she’d thought about buying a new T-shirt or perhaps a new bracelet. The day had turned out very differently.