Dog Show Disaster

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Dog Show Disaster Page 11

by Missy Robertson


  Miss Lewis sat down. “Burgers will be here in an hour. Let’s get started. Do we have a report from our SPM?” Miss Lewis folded her hands on her pile of notes and turned toward me. I was not ready to give a report now. The only thing I wanted to do was throw up my lunch.

  Just then, the library door squeaked open and in ran Hunter.

  “Sorry I’m late! Allie, did you tell them my idea yet?”

  Madison flipped her hair. “Hunter, we’re in an important meeting.”

  Hunter pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I know. That’s why I’m here. I have plans that can bring in thousands of dollars—I’m sure of it.”

  Madison harrumphed. Miss Lewis rose from her chair and addressed Hunter. I think I saw her grin with her eyes.

  “Come on over. We were just getting started with Miss Carroway’s reports, so if she’s fine with it, you may speak.”

  Thank the Lord for Hunter. His enthusiasm and timing are impeccable.

  “Go ahead, cousin.”

  Hunter sat down in Miss Lewis’s space, popped the end off his cardboard tube, and pulled out the rolled-up plans. “Thanks,” he said, and then he grinned that famous grin.

  It even made me feel better for a moment.

  The Dimple-Dunk 5000 was a go. Hunter’s eyes gleamed as he addressed the group. “I’ll have Mr. Dimple begin assembly ASAP. And you can figure out how you want to nominate and then vote for the people who can bring in the most dunking money. Now if you’ll excuse me, my ride is waiting.”

  Hunter gathered up his plans, slid them back in the cardboard tube, and sprinted out. He looked like one of those track runners carrying a baton. I wanted to dart out with him, go hide in the Lickety Split, and not come out until all this FriendClips mess had blown over.

  If it ever would.

  “Miss Carroway, are you ready to give your report now?” Miss Lewis peeked over her reading glasses at me. I tapped my pencil on the table and considered my next move. The best thing to do was to act enthusiastic and competent. And don’t say “um.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I have a lot to report.” I began by listing all the vendors I had hired, and ended with the fun report about the dog trick clinic that would be put on by Mr. Felix at Kiroli Park on April 15th. The kids in the room all perked up and began talking about their dogs and what they would like to teach them. Madison remained quiet, and glared at me.

  Her report was next, and it was all I could do to hold my lips together when she mentioned her funding page and all the money it was generating. Ronnie then reported that he already had enough volunteers to staff all the game booths all day long. I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said he was good at recruiting.

  Samara James reported that the mural was already halfway done, and she showed us samples of logos she had created. We voted unanimously to approve the use of one of them, and Samara gave me a thumb drive with the design on it so I could add it to my dog trick clinic flyers.

  Before we knew it, the burgers had been delivered, and Miss Lewis called a fifteen-minute break for us to eat.

  That would not have been my choice, because as soon as she called break, everyone picked up their phones, including Miss Lewis!

  I had to keep her from seeing that video, so I edged my way over to talk to her.

  “I’m excited about all the great reports,” I said. “Is there anything you think we’re missing?”

  Miss Lewis scrolled on her phone and ignored me.

  “Miss Lewis?”

  She frowned.

  “Carroway, we’re on a break. I appreciate your diligence, but I need a moment here.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  Miss Lewis sighed. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just waiting on a text from Mrs. Mellon. Little Bethany had a setback today. They think she might be bleeding on her brain. If that’s the case, she’s in real danger.”

  “Oh, no, that’s terrible.” This day was just getting worse.

  “When we get caught up on all of this carnival planning, let’s talk with the steering committee about a way we can help the Mellon family, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  She set her phone down. “I have to run to my classroom for just a minute, and when I return let’s resume so we can get out of here faster.”

  She walked out the door. Everything was silent, except for the sound of one phone—held by Ronnie Alexander—over in the corner of the library. A few kids were gathered around the screen, watching with their surprised eyes and mouths open.

  The familiar words were mine.

  I’d like to tell you a story about a pest that is taking over Louisiana . . .

  Miss Lewis returned, right at the part where I get hit with the pie.

  “Miss Lewis, did you know you were on the Internet?” Madison asked.

  Miss Lewis looked me straight in the eyes. “Yes, I did. Now let’s resume our meeting. We have a carnival to plan.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Fire Storm

  I used to think that nothing would be scarier than having a wildfire rage through my neighborhood. But during the next two weeks, I learned that having people blast you on social media is worse. At least with a fire, you have a warning. You can escape. You can put it out. And people who don’t even know you try to help.

  But that wasn’t so with my little Lewis-Beetle video. I told my parents about it the first day it appeared online, and while we managed to get the first post erased, by then it had been shared and copied, and the thing went viral. Fires burned throughout cyberspace, and it seemed that everyone—at school, in the community, in the state of Louisiana, worldwide, and possibly aliens on Mars—had something to say about it.

  “Check this out, Mom.” I sat on the barstool pulled up to the kitchen island, eating breakfast, and reading comments from one of the posts. “Allie Carroway and her family are phonies! They should be ashamed of this display of disrespect, and their show should be cancelled immediately.”

  Mom walked over and pulled the phone out of my hand. “I’ll be holding on to this—until you promise not to read any more comments.”

  “Aww, come on. There are some good ones too. I like the ones that defend me.”

  That’s about one in fifty, though.

  Mom tossed my phone in the junk drawer and came back to sit down next to me.

  “Allie Kate, I want you to listen carefully. Those people commenting on the Internet don’t know you, and they certainly don’t care about you. Because if they did, they wouldn’t be able to comment at all, because they would know that you’re a caring and loving girl, and that you didn’t mean to disrespect your teacher. Now, was the skit totally appropriate? No. Should you apologize to Miss Lewis? Probably. But they have no right to disrespect you—someone they don’t even know—in such a public way. It’s disgraceful. They’re doing the very thing that they accuse you of doing.”

  Mom got up and started aggressively wiping down the kitchen island counter.

  Then she threw the rag down in the sink and supported herself with her hands.

  “And another thing. Don’t let your enemies convince you that you’re someone you’re not. They want you to believe that you’re a loser, but you are God’s beautiful daughter—case closed! God says that ‘he who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.’ We’ve all got flaws, Allie, and if that weren’t true, we wouldn’t need a savior.”

  She picked up the rag and wiped the same counter again, threw it down, and stormed out to the living room. She hit her knees by the couch and started praying silently.

  My mom prays when she gets fighting mad.

  And the praying worked for me at that moment, because suddenly I felt the confidence to go out and face another school day, where I was sure there would be more nasty glances, whispering, and rumors that some of the kids wanted me removed from my position as Student Project Manager.

  At least the next day was the dog-training clinic at Kiroli Park. We had 175 dogs and their owners sig
ned up to attend the half-day event. No one seemed to have a bad comment about that.

  CHAPTER 22

  No Show

  The steering committee, my cousins, and I arrived at the Kiroli Dog Park Saturday morning at 7:30 am—ninety minutes early. We had purchased donuts, pastries, fruit, and orange juice, and we mixed up several five-gallon jugs of iced tea for the participants. We also provided a treat bar for the dogs.

  “These look good enough for me to eat,” Hunter said as he spread the dog treats out on the picnic table. He held one up to his mouth that looked like a chocolate bone dipped at the ends in white chocolate. “Do you dare me?”

  “Of course, I dare you!” Kendall said.

  Not surprisingly, Hunter took a nibble. He grimaced, then chewed, and swallowed. “Not bad,” he said. “But I think I’ll save the rest for T-Rex.”

  T-Rex was already in the dog park, hanging out with all the other Carroway dogs, being “dog-sat” by our Uncle Saul. I glanced over and saw a Frisbee fly, and I thought I saw Ruby’s dog Max jump up to catch it in his mouth.

  “Hey, Ruby, looks like Max could be a competitor in the Spectacular Dog Trick contest.”

  “I hope so. I’ve been working with him. All the research I’ve been doing about dog shows has inspired me.”

  Ruby was doing a great job organizing everything having to do with the dog show. In fact, all my cousins had really rallied around me that last two weeks. It had been especially encouraging to me after the day when Ronnie Alexander informed me that forty of his volunteers were dropping out of the carnival.

  “Allie, they say they don’t want to do it now if the Carroways are involved. I’m sorry.”

  That had been painful, and I had to work to hold back tears as I talked to Ronnie.

  Miss Lewis, who had been talking to my aunts and mom, came over to where we were setting up the dog treats. She took a deep breath and . . . she smiled!

  It was a really teeny-tiny one, but still!

  “Carroway, are you ready for this? One hundred seventy-five dogs? Can you believe what we’ve been able to pull off in such a short amount of time?”

  I still couldn’t believe that she was talking to me—after that dumb Lewis-Beetle skit hit the Internet. In fact, she had never even mentioned it, and that sort of made me nervous.

  I checked my sports watch. “We’re ready early—that’s good. Mr. Felix should be here in a few minutes, and he’ll let us know how he wants us to organize things with the dogs. This is going to be like a Pre-Bark Fest!”

  “I brought my dog,” Miss Lewis said. “She’s in the car.”

  “You have a dog?” Kendall asked.

  “Of course,” Miss Lewis said. “Her name’s Daisy, and she’s a Catahoula Cur. She’s a great hunting dog. Come meet her.”

  A Catahoula. And Miss Lewis hunts too? Cool.

  On the way over to Miss Lewis’s car—this time she brought a Jeep—my cousins and I ran into Madison Doonsberry. Lola immediately walked away, her heart still broken from the way she was deceived by Madison’s friends at the party.

  “Allie, please tell Lola that I had nothing to do with that video being taken off her phone. I’ve disowned my friends, and I’m sorry as I can be. I don’t know what else I can do.”

  It was a pathetic explanation, and I wasn’t buying it at all.

  This is me—Allie Carroway—keeping my eyes wide open, you little bully.

  “Where’s your dog, Madison?” Hunter asked, innocently enough.

  Madison frowned. “Parker’s bringing him in a few minutes. Chief could win best-looking dog.”

  I had to admit, the girl was a quick thinker. Chief was Parker’s dog—a tan and black “King” German Shepherd, and he was almost as big as Parker.

  I think I was the only one of the cousins who knew what had happened to Madison’s dog.

  “Daisy, meet the kids.” Miss Lewis interrupted our Madison circle, bringing Daisy in on a leash. She was cute, in a unique kind of way. She was white, with tan legs, and her body and head had big black spots, and then a bunch of little black spots. Kind of like freckles.

  “A leopard dog!” Hunter said. “I love these.” He reached down to pet Daisy. “You wanna go meet T-Rex? He’ll love having a leopard dog for a friend.”

  Miss Lewis grinned with her eyes. “Yes, let’s go on over. I see we have some dogs and owners arriving. What time did you say Mr. Felix was coming?”

  “He was supposed to arrive at 8:00.”

  It was 8:45.

  “If I were you, I’d give him a call.”

  My stomach ached a little as I ran over to the covered pavilion to make the call to Mr. Felix.

  This is not a good day for car trouble, God.

  The phone rang sixteen times. Finally, Mr. Felix answered.

  “Well, hello, Allie! How are you on this lovely Louisiana morning?”

  Hmmm. He sounds fine.

  “I’m great, sir. I was wondering if everything is okay with you, though. We have dogs and owners arriving here at the dog park, and I thought we had agreed for you to arrive at 8:00.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end.

  Finally, Mr. Felix spoke. “What do you mean? I thought you wanted to reschedule the clinic for next week. My secretary left me a note that you had called . . .”

  I almost dropped my phone. “Oh, no, sir! I never asked to reschedule. We’re having it this morning.” I looked down at my watch and then over at the huge, barking crowd that was gathering by the dog park gate. “In about fifteen minutes!”

  “Oh, dear, well I don’t understand what happened. My secretary made it clear that you had called and rescheduled for next week.”

  “Well, whatever happened was a mistake! Mr. Felix, can you still come and do it this morning?”

  More silence.

  “Allie, I would if I could, but I’m in New Orleans.”

  I wanted to lie down on the picnic bench and die. “Okay, thank you, Mr. Felix.”

  “I’m very sorry, Allie. Are we still on for next week?”

  “Sure.”

  If anyone shows up. If I decide to show up.

  “Allie, why are you laying on the top of the picnic table?”

  Lola. Her eyes were red and watery.

  I sat up. “Mr. Felix isn’t coming. Someone called the office this week, and told him I wanted to reschedule the clinic for next week.”

  She nodded. “Let me guess. Was it Veronica, Chloe, Kaitlyn, Penny, or was it Madison, the ringleader, herself?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

  Miss Lewis jogged over with Daisy. “So where’s our dog trainer?”

  “He’s not coming,” I said. “Someone called and claimed that I wanted it rescheduled. And now he’s in New Orleans, so I guess this isn’t happening today.”

  Miss Lewis joined me, sitting cross-legged on top of the table. “Wow.”

  She sighed and thought for a moment, chin in her hands.

  “Well, at least they got some tasty snacks.” She turned to look at me. “You better go break the news, Carroway.”

  I pointed a thumb to my chest. “You want me to go?”

  “Yes. Leaders must be able to stand the heat. But I’ll be right there next to you, and if they charge, we can use Parker’s dog as a shield. That thing is huge.”

  That made me laugh. But I still didn’t want to go.

  “I’ll come too, Allie, and I’ll stand right next to you.”

  “Thanks, Lola.”

  The three of us walked toward the crowd of kids, parents, and dogs. People were already checking their watches, and I could hear comments about things starting late as I grabbed the bullhorn from the sign-in table and flipped the on switch.

  Here goes. I’m doomed.

  I tried not to shake, but it didn’t work. That bullhorn was wobbling all over.

  “Ladies and gentlemen . . . and dogs . . . our trainer is not able to make it today. I am sorry for the
inconvenience. I was just on the phone with him, and we have rescheduled our clinic for next Saturday, same time, right here.”

  People shook their heads. Kids stomped away. Dogs howled—it sounded like even they were complaining.

  “We’ll have more dog treats, and possibly breakfast burritos . . . thank you for your understanding.”

  I flipped the bullhorn to off. A little girl came up to me and tugged on my T-shirt.

  “Are we gonna see the doggies do twicks?”

  I started to shake my head, when I heard Uncle Saul approaching.

  “Frisbee clinic! I’m an expert on teaching dogs to catch! See me over at the chain link in five minutes!”

  The little girl’s eyes brightened. “Let’s go, Mommy!”

  Good old Uncle Saul.

  What would I do without my family?

  About a third of the people stayed for the frisbee clinic. Others left right after my announcement. A couple of people came up to encourage me, but I also overheard some other kinds of comments.

  “I am not packing you kids up and coming again next week, that’s for sure.”

  “What’s with the Carroways lately? Untrustworthy!”

  “What a disorganized mess.”

  And, the worst comment came from the center of a group of OMS students as they walked to the cars with their dogs:

  “I can’t believe I voted for her. What was I thinking?”

  CHAPTER 23

  Prayers and Petitions

  By the time I got home, I was fighting mad. I pulled up my FriendClips account and clicked on the settings button, changing my private account to public. Then I typed out these words:

  MADISON DOONSBERRY IS A LIAR AND A CHEAT AND A FAKE.

  She stole my cousin’s phone, and downloaded a video that was supposed to be private. She also didn’t get permission from her dad to offer the winner of the fundraising drawing a part on his show, so she has cheated all of you too!!!!!!!!!

  I tagged everyone from the steering committee and the OMS Eagles page, so that anyone who followed that would see my post. Now everyone would know about this awful girl.

 

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