Ghost Dog Secrets
Page 3
“You will ask in person,” she said, “but he’ll need the request in writing. You should have it with you.”
There were six people on my committee. Mrs. Webster said only two of us should visit the grocery store manager, so we had to choose who would do it.
“Whoever goes should do it right away,” I said. “Like today.”
Everyone agreed that the sooner the bin was placed in the store, the better.
“I can’t go today,” Marci said. “I’m going to visit my grandma after school.”
Andrew looked at me. “Do you want to go?” he asked. “I’m available.”
I hesitated. If I went with Andrew to talk to the Safeway manager and place the bin in his store, it wouldn’t leave much time to feed my dog before Mom got home.
Before I responded, Lexi spoke up. “I’ll go,” she said. “My mom picks me up every day, and we go right past Safeway on our way home. Half the time she stops there anyway.”
“I can go with you,” Hayley offered, “if your mom wouldn’t mind taking me home after we talk to the manager.”
We spent the next forty-five minutes composing the letter for Lexi and Hayley to take with them.
Twice a week our class goes to the library for half an hour, right before lunch. That day I looked up ghosts in the library catalog and then went to the section that has books about ghosts. None of them were specifically about animal ghosts but I figured I’d browse through them, in case there was some mention of a ghost dog.
I got so absorbed in my reading that I didn’t notice when the rest of my class left the library. A tap on my shoulder startled me. “It’s lunchtime, Rusty,” Mrs. Webster said.
I closed the book I had been skimming and stood up. “You can check those out, if you want to,” Mrs. Webster said.
“I’m done with them,” I said. “They aren’t quite what I was looking for.”
I put the books back on the shelf and hurried to the cafeteria.
“Greetings and salutations, Mighty Muscles Man,” Andrew said as I plunked my tray down on the table across from him.
“Hey, Exalted Exciting Expert,” I replied. Two girls at the end of the table looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“No eavesdropping, ladies,” I said. They moved to the next table.
“You’re late,” Andrew said. “I thought maybe you’d gone on a strict diet and were skipping lunch.”
“No way,” I said. “I’m starving.” I took a big bite of pizza and drizzled dressing on my salad.
“How come you didn’t want to take the collection bin to Safeway?” he asked.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”
“You weren’t exactly eager to volunteer.”
“Lexi and Hayley will do a good job of asking the manager,” I said.
“True. Probably better than we would have done. I always get distracted by the candy bar racks that are next to the checkouts. I see them and turn into a greedy guilty glutton.” He licked the frosting off a chocolate cupcake. “Do you want to shoot some hoops after school?”
“I can’t. I’ve got stuff to do.”
“What kind of stuff ?”
I hesitated, then said, “It’s a secret.”
Andrew’s eyebrows went up. He gave me his famous laser look, which always makes me feel as if he’s reading my mind. Then he leaned toward me and whispered, “Is there a girl involved? ”
“No!”
“Just asking. First you don’t volunteer to take the puppy mill bin to Safeway, and now it turns out it’s because you have some secret activity.” There was a brief, awkward silence. I knew he was hoping I’d explain.
I took another bite of pizza.
Andrew said, “How about tomorrow afternoon then?”
I shook my head. “I’m probably going to be busy every day,” I said.
“And you can’t tell me what you’re doing.”
“If Mom finds out, I’m grounded for life.”
“Hey!” Andrew said. He pointed one finger at his chest. “It’s me, remember? Your buddy who swore on the grave of that dead blue jay to always be loyal! The only other member of the Knights of the Royal Underpants and proud creator of threesomes. I’m not telling your mom anything you don’t want her to know.”
His smile faded, replaced by a frown. “You aren’t involved in something illegal, are you? Like shoplifting or stealing hubcaps?”
I pointed at myself and mimicked him: “It’s me, remember ? Your honest neighborhood Boy Scout and cofounder of the Knights of the Royal Underpants.”
“Well, if it’s legal, why can’t you tell me? Maybe I can do it with you.”
The minute he said that, I knew I should tell him about the dog. For one thing, Andrew is smart, and he’s good at figuring out solutions to problems. For another, he gets way more allowance than I get and could easily help pay for dog food. Then there was the ghost. Even though the collie’s ghost had never acted threatening, it gave me the willies to know she could come into my bedroom while I was sleeping any time she wanted to.
I felt an overwhelming desire to tell someone what was happening, and Andrew was the logical person because I knew I could trust him to keep my secret. Even though we still made up threesomes, we rarely mentioned the club we’d started as six-year-olds. When Andrew brought up the Knights of the Royal Underpants, I knew it was because he really wanted to be in on whatever I was doing every day after school.
“Okay,” I said. “Meet me at my house after school.”
I ride the school bus home, but Andrew’s mom often drives him, so he gets home faster than I do. He rolled up on his bike before I had even peeled my banana.
“I’m all eager, expectant ears,” he said.
“You have to swear you won’t tell anybody.”
“I won’t tell unless what you’re doing puts you in danger.”
I thought about that. What would happen if the dog’s owner came home and saw me feeding the dog? He or she might get angry and tell me to leave, but I didn’t think I’d be in any danger. They might even thank me.
“I saw a TV news report last night,” Andrew said. “Two kids were standing on a freeway overpass, dropping rocks on cars.”
I gave him a disgusted look. “That was not me,” I said. “That is dangerous, disastrous, and dumb.”
“I know. They got caught because the State Patrol helicopter saw them and followed when they tried to run away. I was only giving an example of what I would not keep secret.”
I checked my backpack for kibble, dishes, and water, then I put it on. “Let’s go,” I said.
Andrew didn’t ask where; he simply nodded and followed me outside.
While we walked to the yard where the dog was chained, I told Andrew about the dog and that I was feeding him. When we were almost there, I said, “There is one more thing I need to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“Besides the dog I’m helping, there’s another dog. Not a real dog. I think it’s a dog’s ghost.”
“Have you seen it?” he asked.
“Twice. And I’ve felt her two other times, nudging my leg with her nose.”
“What does she look like? Can you tell what kind of dog she is?”
“She’s a collie but she’s all white, even her eyes, and I can see right through her. You know how steam flows off the roof sometimes when the sun comes out after a cold spell, or how you can see your breath in winter? Well, it’s as if that steam or breath was formed in the shape of a dog.”
“Does she move?”
“She walks like a real dog, except that her feet don’t always touch the ground. She sort of floats. She came to my house last night while I was asleep. She stood next to my bed and woke me up.”
“Cool.”
I wasn’t sure what I had expected Andrew to say but, as usual, he surprised me. The idea of a ghost in my bedroom, dog or human, made me uneasy—not scared, exactly, but nervous because I didn’t know what to expect. Andrew wasn’t
at all anxious about possibly encountering a dog’s ghost.
“What happened? What did she do after you woke up?”
“She tried to get me to follow her.”
Andrew looked impressed. “Did you?”
“I went about half a block and then I turned back. It’s a good thing I didn’t go any farther because Mom got up and would have caught me if I’d been going down the sidewalk after the collie.”
“Man, I hope she’s there today,” Andrew said. “It would be awesome to see a dog ghost.”
When we reached the dog’s yard, he was tied in his usual spot. I took a picture of him and told Andrew what Heidi Kellogg at animal control had said. “I’m keeping a journal, too,” I said.
Andrew watched as I offered food and water while the dog stayed as far away from me as he could get.
“How long have you been feeding him? ” Andrew asked as we watched the dog eat.
“This is the third day.”
“Do you see the ghost now?” Andrew asked.
“No. Do you?”
Andrew shook his head. “Maybe she won’t come around when there’s more than one of us here.” He sounded disappointed but I was relieved. I was worried enough about the dog who was chained to the tree; I didn’t need to worry about a dog ghost, too. If the collie kept away because of Andrew that was fine with me.
“Somebody’s been mean to that dog,” Andrew said.
“How do you know?”
“Most dogs, once you give them food, they warm right up. This is the third time you’ve brought him food, and he’s clearly hungry, but the dog still acts scared to be near you. He doesn’t trust you, even after you’ve fed him every day. I’ll bet someone beats him or hurts him somehow.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to think about somebody hitting the dog, or worse.
“We should rescue him,” Andrew said.
“What?”
“It doesn’t really help him that much to bring food and then leave him chained up like this, especially if the person who chains him is mean to him. It’s getting really cold at night now, and we’ll have snow soon. Animals need more food when it’s cold, and they need shelter. Who knows what happens to him at night when the owner comes home? We need to take him with us. We need to get him out of here.”
“How can we take him with us? I can’t even get close enough to pet him.”
“You will. If you keep bringing food every day and talking soft to him like you’re doing, he’ll learn that you aren’t going to hurt him, and eventually he’ll let you get close to him. When he does, we can unhook that chain and snap on a leash and take him away from here.”
“That would be stealing.”
“Would it? Or would it be rescuing a dog who needs help? ”
More than once in our long friendship, Andrew had talked me into doing something that got me in trouble. I picked up the empty pie tins. “As soon as I have a few more photos and journal entries,” I said, “I’ll call animal control back and give Heidi the exact address. She might take the dog away from his owner.”
“And she might not. Somehow I don’t think a dog chained to a tree is high on the priority list of people who deal with murders, bank robberies, and abducted children.”
“She’s the animal control officer,” I said. “It’s her job to help animals.”
“He won’t starve to death as long as you keep feeding him,” Andrew said, “but without shelter he could freeze to death this winter.”
“I’ll get Heidi or the sheriff out here before it turns that cold,” I said, but even to myself I didn’t sound sure. At this time of year, we often get sudden cold spells, where the temperature drops well below freezing. Last Halloween, Andrew and I had gone trick-or-treating in the snow.
Andrew gave me his laser look. “Someone ought to save that dog,” he said.
I knew he was really telling me that we were the someone, just as Mrs. Webster had said.
CHAPTER FOUR
We walked home in silence. My mind churned. Feeding the dog was one thing; actually taking him was a lot more serious. I knew what my mom would say about that, if she ever found out, and yet, I believed Andrew was right. Helping the dog was so important that if the only way to do it was to take him without permission, that’s what I needed to do.
It’s ironic, I thought. Andrew had been worried that I might be doing something illegal and now he’s the one to suggest that we take a dog who doesn’t belong to us.
When we got to the greenbelt that adjoins my house, I said, “Do you want to go to the fort for awhile?”
Instead of answering, Andrew took off running, beating me to the fort by several seconds. Our fort was hidden in the trees, where it didn’t show from the street. We had built it the summer before, scrounging ends of boards, partial sheets of plywood, and other materials from a Dumpster on the site where a construction crew had been building two houses. We used Andrew’s dad’s tools.
Except for a box of nails and a padlock, to ensure that nobody else entered our hiding place, the fort had cost us nothing.
We removed the padlock’s key from under a big rock, unlocked the crude door, went in, and sat on the two blue plastic milk crates that served as chairs.
“We could keep him here,” I said. “He could sleep in the fort at night, and we could take turns coming early in the morning before school to feed him and walk him, and we could both come after school.”
“Spoken like a true co-king,” Andrew said.
“Or a co-nutcase. We could end up in a heap of trouble if we take that dog.”
“He needs a name,” Andrew said. “If we’re going to rescue him, we can’t keep calling him the dog.”
“How about Max?”
Andrew shook his head. “I read the results of a survey online,” he said. “Max is one of the two most common dog names in the United States.”
“What’s the other one?”
“Buddy.” Andrew unwrapped a stick of gum, broke it in two, and offered half to me. “This is a special dog,” he said. “He can’t have an ordinary name.”
I agreed. We both thought for awhile.
“Let’s put our initials together and make up a new name for him,” I suggested.
“M-E?” Andrew asked. “Or E-M?”
It took me a second to realize he was using the initials from the Mighty Muscles Man and Exalted Exciting Expert names, from our old club.
“Not those initials,” I said.
Andrew smiled, obviously pleased that I had figured out his joke.
“Let’s name him Ra,” I said. “R for Rusty and A for Andrew.”
“I like it,” Andrew said. “Ra was an Egyptian sun god. He was one of the very first gods ever.”
Andrew often surprised me by knowing stuff like that. I’d long ago given up asking him HOW he knew the odd facts that spewed from his mouth. I just accepted that he did. Andrew read a lot and seemed to remember everything he read. Also, while I used my computer time to play games, he browsed on lots of different Web sites and read about tsunamis and sea otters and poisonous plants. He wasn’t show-offy with his knowledge and I enjoyed learning what he told me. Once when Mrs. Webster was talking about how the pioneers prized their horses for helping clear the land, Andrew asked if we knew that horses have 205 bones in their bodies. Nobody else I knew had a head full of such interesting facts.
“An Egyptian sun god?” I said. “Is that a good name for a dog?”
“You noticed him in the first place because he was standing in the rain and cold,” Andrew said, “so it’s fitting to name him for a sun god. When he starts his new life with his new name, he’ll always be warm, like the sun. A cozy, comfy canine.”
“The collie’s ghost is cold,” I said. “When she came into my bedroom, I woke up shivering. It felt like an Arctic wind was blowing around my bed.”
“Most ghosts are cold,” Andrew said. “I wonder why the dog ghost is there.”
“Maybe it�
��s Ra’s mother.”
“I doubt Ra’s mother was a collie. Ra is a German shepherd. He might even be a purebred.”
“No one would pay a lot of money for a purebred dog and then leave him chained to a tree all the time.”
“Maybe the collie’s ghost is jealous because you’re feeding Ra and she’s trying to scare you away. Cold cranky collie.”
“She wasn’t trying to scare me off when she came to my room. She wanted me to follow her.”
“Perhaps she’s luring you into danger. Maybe she never got any attention and now she’s angry because you visit Ra.”
“Oh, great. All I need is a ghost dog that doesn’t want me there.”
“She might also be a good dog who’s lonely and hangs around Ra because she doesn’t have any dog ghost friends.”
“I tried to find information about dog ghosts online and didn’t find anything useful. I looked in the library, too, and skimmed through all the books about ghosts, which is why I was late for lunch.”
“Maybe we should rescue the ghost, too,” Andrew said. “They can both stay in the fort.”
“No way. How do you rescue a ghost?”
“The collie’s ghost could sleep in your room at night.”
“You’re freaking me out,” I said. “I hope the collie’s ghost doesn’t come again. I only want to help Ra.”
“Dangerous dead dog,” said Andrew, but he smiled as he said it.
I decided to change the subject. “Ra will need a dog bed, and a different collar, and a leash.”
“Let’s go to Value Village,” Andrew suggested. “I’ve seen pet items there, and the prices are less than the pet store.”
We rode our bikes to Value Village. It’s a huge store that sells secondhand goods that people have donated. We found a red retractable leash in good condition for one dollar. The collars were all scruffy, though, as if they’d been worn for years and years. Looking at them made me sad. Probably whoever had donated them did it because their dog had died and they couldn’t bear to throw the old collar in the trash.
“We could keep the collar he has,” Andrew said.
“It’s one of those choke chains,” I said. “I don’t like it, and besides, I want him to have a fresh start, with everything chosen by us.”