Waggit Again

by Peter Howe

  “Ow, ow,” complained Lug. “What did you do that for? I’m already injured as it is. Didn’t you think about that?”

  “We had to get out of there or risk being caught inside, and I knew you wouldn’t jump by yourself,” he replied. “We’re better off out here. I don’t think this train’s going anywhere. The rest of the journey’s going to be on paw.”

  Before Lug could complain again they both heard the sound of footsteps walking along the tracks in the distance.

  “Quick,” said Waggit, “under here.”

  They both dived under the wheels of a boxcar that was surrounded by weeds. It was a good hiding place, except that some seeds from a dandelion got caught on Lug’s nose and caused him to let out a thunderous sneeze. The sound of the footsteps stopped and the two dogs froze.

  “Waggit. Lug. Is that you? Where are you?”

  Waggit peered out excitedly from between the wheels.

  “It’s Felicia,” he barked with joy, and ran over to where she was standing.

  “Oh, it is you. I’m so glad to see you both,” she said, stroking their heads, “but we’ve got to get out of here. And you’ve got to be quiet.”

  “Felicia, are you all right?” asked Waggit in a low voice.

  “I’m fine,” she replied, “a bit bruised but otherwise unharmed.”

  “But how did you get here?” Waggit asked.

  “Well,” Felicia said, “after I fell I picked myself up, and as luck would have it another car like this was passing. I just managed to scramble on board before it was going too fast.” She looked at Lug. “You, young man, are very heavy. I didn’t realize until I picked you up, and it was because of that I lost my balance.”

  “It’s not my fault,” whined Lug. “It was the bar. They ate very fatty food at the bar.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Felicia. “What does matter is that we’re all back together again. Now we’ve got to get out of here before it gets light.”

  Suddenly in the distance Waggit heard the crunch of boots on gravel. Once again they had to dive under the boxcar, only this time Lug’s nose was fortunately itch-free. Then they saw the beam of a flashlight, and the crunching sound got closer. They held their breath. The workman carrying the light came up to the car they had been in, and the yellow beam washed its interior. Then they heard the sound that Waggit had feared, and the reason he had wanted to get out—the rumbling noise of the door being closed and the snap of the bolt as it was pushed into the locked position. The man moved from car to car, and the sound of his boots got softer as he went farther down the long train until it could no longer be heard. After that close call even Lug needed no more persuading that getting out of there was a really good idea.

  In the pitch black the three of them stumbled through the rail yard as best they could. They had to climb over several tracks before they could get to flat ground. Even when they accomplished this the going was still difficult because the night was so dark. A tall chain-link fence ran alongside the outermost tracks, and garbage had collected between it and the rails. Waggit found himself stumbling over empty beer bottles, soda cans, bits of old clothing, and paper bags that still retained the tantalizing smell of hamburgers. At one point Lug got caught up in some electrical cable, which Felicia had to disentangle. It was not pleasant, but at least they were leaving the man with the flashlight behind. Then, as dawn broke, it became much easier, not only because they could see better, but also because they were now farther away from the railroad tracks.

  The fence suddenly ended for no apparent reason, and they were able to head away from the tracks. After crossing some fields they came to a narrow road. Felicia clipped Waggit’s leash to his collar and tied a length of baling twine that she had found on the train around Lug’s neck. It was still early and the road they were on wasn’t one that was ever busy, so the three of them walked along unconcerned with the possibility of passing traffic. It was good to be in open country again, and they all were in a lighthearted mood. Lug even forgot to complain about his injuries anymore, and Felicia whistled in a tuneless but contented way. They had been walking for about an hour when she suddenly stopped on the brow of a small hill. In front of them in the distance they could see a wide highway snaking down the valley.

  “I think I know this area,” she said. “If I’m not mistaken there’s a diner near here called Truckers. If we could find it that would be a really good thing, because there may be some friends there who could help us.”

  She looked around, peering hard, trying to see where it was.

  “I’m pretty certain it’s around here somewhere, but where exactly?”

  The two dogs looked at each other, put their noses in the air, and slowly turned their heads. Suddenly Waggit closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled.

  “Ah, hamburgers,” he said.

  Lug’s head was pointing in the same direction and he also had the same look of bliss on his face.

  “Mmm, French fries,” he said with a sigh.

  To one side of the paved road that they were standing on was a farm road, no more than a rough track, really, but it was going in the same direction the smells were coming from. Waggit pulled toward it, stopped, and turned to Felicia and Lug.

  “This’ll take us there,” he said. “Come on, follow me.”

  9

  Truckers and the Big Rigs

  The road was deeply rutted from the tractors that had driven on it when it was muddy. Their wheels had also churned up large rocks and stones that added to the difficulties Felicia and the two dogs encountered as they made their slow progress along it.

  “This may be heading in the right direction,” she said. “But that’s the only thing it’s got going for it. Let’s sit for a while. I’ve got to rest.”

  She took off her backpack and sat on it. The dogs settled down next to her, secretly glad that she needed a break.

  “Who are these friends you were talking about, the ones who might be able to help us?” asked Waggit. “And where are they?”

  “Not too far from here, I hope,” was her reply.

  “Hope?” said Lug, alarmed.

  “Well, you see, the problem is they drive big rigs,” she continued, “and you’re never quite sure where they will be, but they all stop at Truckers if they’re in the area. There’s one in particular that I hope will be there.”

  “How do you know them?” asked Waggit.

  “Oh, from being around,” she replied enigmatically.

  “From being around what?” demanded Lug, who liked details.

  “Let’s just say that we have a lot in common, the drivers and me,” said Felicia. “We’re all roamers at heart. They do it for a trucking company, and I do it for myself.”

  After Felicia had gathered up her things they set off once again down the rock-strewn track. Waggit’s paws were sore and his legs ached, and he wanted to be on his way to the park, not scrambling down some country road. He realized that he was longing to get back to the team and to familiar surroundings. He worried about whether they would have him back. After all, he had left them to live with a human, and he knew that Tazar considered this to be disloyalty verging on treachery. But they had always been a generous, warm, and forgiving group of animals, and furthermore he had been the team’s best hunter. As for Lug, well, Waggit would worry about him when they got there.

  The track had been cut through one of the many woods in the area. As they came through the trees they heard the hum of traffic, and then they saw a highway winding through the valley.

  “Not too far from here,” said Felicia cheerfully, “and the food is pretty good. You’ll both like it anyway. They serve the best meatloaf in the county.”

  In the distance Waggit caught sight of a building made out of shiny metal that gleamed silver in the sunlight, with a huge electric sign flashing in front of it. It was surrounded by an enormous parking lot full of the biggest trucks he had ever seen.

  “There it is,” said Felicia fondly. “G
ood old Truckers.”

  As they got closer the trucks seemed to get bigger, the building shinier, and the lights flashier. Great snorting vehicles came and went, with the occasional car weaving between them to avoid getting squashed. Men and women bustled in or out of the restaurant; everyone seemed to be in a hurry. To Waggit it was exciting, almost like being in his beloved city. Recent events had taught Lug, however, to be wary of buildings with lights, noise, and many people, and he pulled back on his twine leash.

  “It’s okay,” said Felicia. “These are my friends. They won’t hurt you. I won’t let them.”

  As she said this she bent down and stroked him the length of his spine. He stopped pulling and trotted along by her side. They were walking up to the diner when a large truck pulled in front of them and stopped. The window slid down and a cheery face poked out.

  “Hey there, duchess,” said the man to whom it belonged. “I haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. And talking of dogs, when did you get that mangy pair? I don’t like the look of that one.” He nodded at Lug. “He looks mean. Still, I suppose a woman needs a dog like that for protection.”

  “Well,” Felicia replied with a smile, “if he scares a tough guy like you then I guess he’s doing his job.”

  “I didn’t say I was scared of him,” said the man. “I just said he looks mean. By the way, your friend’s parked over there. I think he’s taking a nap.”

  “Which direction’s he heading?” asked Felicia.

  “South, I believe,” said the man, “but you’d better ask him. I gotta be going, time’s a-wasting. I’ll see you around.”

  The window of the huge truck whirred as it closed. There was a deafening noise as the gears engaged and the vehicle slowly rumbled off. Felicia waved and then led the two animals across the parking lot. She looked around at all the parked vehicles until she saw one that she walked toward. It had a bright yellow cab, and on the side were painted the words Yellow Wood Trucking, Lawrence, Massachusetts, Archibald Frost, Owner.

  There was a metal step at the side of the cab, and Felicia used this to raise herself up and bang sharply on the window.

  “Frosty, it’s Felicia,” she shouted. “Open up.”

  From deep inside the cab a voice was heard to say, “Go away! Can’t a guy get any sleep around here?”

  “You must be getting old, Frosty,” said Felicia. “You never used to sleep at all.”

  There was the sound of movement in the cab, and then a face peered drowsily through the window. It was a man’s face, and it was surrounded by an enormous white beard that would have made him look like Santa Claus were it not for the fact that the hair covering his top lip and running down the sides of his mouth was jet black. This made him look rather like a skunk. The other prominent feature of his face was the deep creases at the edges of each eye that indicated the man like to laugh a lot.

  “Felicia,” he said, “why didn’t you say it was you?”

  “I did,” answered Felicia, “at the top of my lungs. You’re not only getting old, you’re getting deaf.”

  “Well, thank you, Felicia. It’s nice to see you, too.” He smiled.

  “I’m only teasing,” said Felicia. “You know I have a warm spot in my heart for you. Come on down. I want to introduce you to two friends.”

  When the door opened after a couple of minutes, the rest of Archibald Frost could be seen, and a very large rest it was too. He had an enormous stomach that pulled the front of his denim bib overalls tight. Beneath them he wore a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal two muscular arms and huge hands. Despite his size he moved delicately as he jumped to the ground.

  “These are your friends?” he asked without a trace of surprise. “What are their names?”

  “This one’s Waggit,” replied Felicia, “and this is Lug.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you boys,” said Frosty, “and how did you hook up with this disreputable woman?”

  “Our paths crossed,” Felicia answered for them, “and we decided to travel together.”

  “And what’s the destination that will mark the end of this journey?” asked Frosty.

  “Central Park,” said Felicia.

  “And I suppose you want me to take the three of you there?” He smiled, as if he knew this was exactly what she wanted.

  “You know what I like about you, Frosty?” said Felicia. “You get straight to the point with no messing around, and you don’t ask why a woman and two dogs in the middle of nowhere would want to go to Central Park.”

  “Well,” he remarked, “I have enough trouble making my own decisions without questioning yours.”

  “The answer, of course, is yes, we would love to have you drive us there. Is that a possibility?”

  “It might be if you bought me lunch,” said Frosty.

  “Deal,” said Felicia.

  So Frosty locked the door of his truck and the four of them headed toward the silver diner.

  10

  Hitching a Ride

  After a lengthy argument with the waitress in the diner Felicia finally conceded that the dogs would not be allowed inside. Instead she tethered them both to the handle of a newspaper vending machine. It wasn’t something she liked to do, but leaving them loose would not only attract attention, it would be dangerous with the big rigs that were constantly moving in and out of the parking lot. The only other alternative would have been to lock them in the cab of the truck, and she preferred to keep them where they could see her. The only flaw in the arrangement was that when a customer purchased a paper the dogs were pulled forward a few inches. Fortunately newspaper reading wasn’t very popular with the diner’s clients, especially when they had to negotiate a pit bull to get one, and so it turned out to be not too much of a problem.

  Lug was very worried about being left outside.

  “She will come back, won’t she?” he asked Waggit.

  “Of course she will,” he replied. “Look, you can see her through the window. There’s no way she could leave without us knowing it.”

  Waggit realized that he was reassuring himself as much as Lug, but the other dog’s fears made him feel braver. When a dog in the cab of a passing truck barked at them furiously, Lug leapt back and nearly pulled the vending machine over.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Waggit comforted Lug. “He’s in the truck and can’t get to us. And if he could I’d protect you.”

  All their fears were soothed when a waitress came out with two plates of meatloaf, placed one in front of each dog, scratched them behind the ears, and left. Whether or not it was the best meatloaf in the county, as Felicia had claimed, was a matter of opinion; that it was the fastest consumed in the county was indisputable. When Felicia and Frosty finally emerged she released the two dogs from the machine and the four of them walked back to the truck.

  As Frosty opened the door to the cab he turned to Felicia and said, “Now, you know that I’m not allowed to take riders because of the insurance, so you’ll all have to stay out of sight in the sleeper.”

  “Whatever you say, Frosty,” said Felicia. “We’re in your debt and will go wherever you want.”

  Frosty muttered something about debt having nothing to do with it and climbed up into the cab. Felicia passed him up her backpack.

  “Goodness gracious, woman,” he said as he labored to lift it up, “what have you got in here?”

  “My entire life,” said Felicia.

  “Well, you have a very full life is all I can say,” said Frosty.

  “Indeed I do, and it seems,” she said as she lifted Waggit up, “to be getting fuller by the day.”

  Frosty grabbed hold of Waggit by the loose skin at the back of his neck, which, if done properly as the man did, doesn’t hurt a dog. He lifted him over the two front seats and gently lowered him behind them. Waggit looked around and was amazed by what he saw. The back of the cab was like a small room, almost fully taken up by a neatly made bed with lots of frilly satin cushions on it that didn’t look lik
e the kind of thing Frosty would like at all. The roof of the compartment was quilted, and on either side there were some small storage cupboards. On top of one was a television, and on the other a framed photograph of a jolly, plump woman with her arms folded and a broad smile on her face.

  It all felt cozy and safe to Waggit, and he jumped up onto the bed, turned around a couple of times, and settled down. His satisfaction with the situation was interrupted by Lug’s yelping as Frosty repeated the process on him. Although Waggit was pretty certain that the dog wasn’t being hurt, despite his wounds, it sounded as if Frosty was torturing him. This was followed by some groaning from Felicia as she hauled herself up, but finally the door was shut and they were ready to roll.

  “It’s going to be a long trip,” Frosty warned. “I’ve got a heavy load, and with all these hills we aren’t going to be moving fast.”

  “That’s good,” said Felicia diplomatically, “because that means I’ll have the pleasure of your company for even longer.”

  Frosty turned toward her from his seat and grinned.

  “Even if it means we’ll be divided by a curtain?” he said as he pulled across the gray, pleated drape that divided the sleeping compartment from the driver’s area.

  “Even then,” said Felicia, taking off her boots and nestling into the pillows, pulling the two dogs closer to her.

  Waggit was surprised at how quiet the sound of the motor was from inside the truck. The vehicle was relatively new and the ride was smooth. He felt comfortable and safe with Felicia’s arm around him, and best of all they were heading in the right direction—toward the park. This was better than the train in every respect.

  “Frosty says that he won’t be able to take us all the way,” Felicia warned the dogs. “He has a tight deadline, but he’ll get us as close as he can. We’ll have to manage the last part by ourselves.”

  Frosty, of course, was unaware of the exchanges between Felicia and the dogs, and anyway was too busy maneuvering the truck through the traffic to pay much attention to anything else. Like the rest of their kind, Waggit and Lug tended to sleep when there was nothing more interesting happening, and since there seemed to be very little else to do in a sleeper cab, they decided to let it live up to its name. Felicia read as they napped and had occasional conversations with Frosty as he drove, although, being a good driver, he kept these brief so that he could concentrate on guiding the big rig.