by Peter Howe
Team Contact
Waggit was happy to be home, even though he was uncertain of the reception he would get from the team, if there was still a team left. It was completely possible that the Ruzelas had captured every last one of them, as they had Tashi’s team some time ago. Nevertheless, just being here gave him a huge surge of energy and optimism.
“It’s really good to be back,” he said to Felicia. “I know this place so well—every rock, every tree. There’s nowhere like this.”
“Unfortunately we don’t know this place very well,” she replied. “I haven’t been here since I was a little girl, and Lug’s never been in the park.”
“I’ve never been in this park,” admitted Lug, adding defensively, “but I have been in a park before. There was one in the town where you found me.”
“Not like this one,” said Waggit with pride. “This park’s bigger than your whole town. This park’s the best park in the world.”
Since Waggit had only been in two parks in his whole life—this one and the one where the policeman had found them sleeping in the tent—his last statement was a little boastful.
“You’re certainly the expert on this park,” Felicia conceded, “so we’re in your hands—I mean paws.”
Waggit knew that if he turned to the left they would go to where the woman used to take him to play with the other pet dogs and that the path to the right would lead to the tunnel where the team lived. If they continued past that they would arrive at the Deepwoods End, which was much wilder and less visited than where they were now. So he turned right. With Felicia holding their leashes tightly they walked up the bridle path where horses came and went, and past the reservoir known to the team as the Bigwater. As they moved farther north Waggit could feel his heart quicken with excitement. Soon he would know whether or not the team would take him back. He was pulling on his leash now, with Felicia almost running to keep up with him. They rounded a corner, and there in front of them was his former home, the tunnel.
Except that it wasn’t.
The structure was still there, but everything was much neater and looked a lot newer. The brush and scrubby trees that grew on top of the tunnel, and which made such a perfect place to position a sentry, were gone now, replaced by carefully mowed grass and young shrubs. The bricks of the tunnel had been spruced up as well, the missing ones replaced, and they had all been washed clean of the city soot that had built up over many years. But the most striking change was that where the entrance to the tunnel used to be there was now a sturdy wooden door painted a bright, glossy green and fastened by a huge padlock. Waggit was so shocked that he sat down, causing Lug to bang into him.
“What…?” said Waggit.
“Is this the place?” asked Felicia.
“Well, it used to be,” Waggit replied.
“Are you sure it’s the right place?” asked Lug.
“Of course I am,” said Waggit irritably. “I used to live here. I know it as well as you know the bar.”
He went up to the new door, lay down, and peered through the gap at the bottom. He could just make out in the darkness what appeared to be mowing equipment, ladders, and wheelbarrows. But on the wall of the tunnel he could see the old movie poster that had adorned it when he lived there and which the workers renovating the area had not bothered to remove. So this was the right place as he had thought, but clearly it was no longer home to a pack of dogs.
“It’s where we lived, all right,” he said to Felicia, “but they don’t live here any longer.”
He stood staring at the closed door, unable to speak for a moment. To come all this way, to have endured all the dangers and discomforts of the journey, and then to be unable to find the team would be unbearable.
“Where do you think they would go if they had to move?” Felicia asked, bringing him out of his shock.
“Well,” said Waggit, thinking for a moment, “they could have gone to the Goldenside, but my guess is that they would have gone farther up into the Deepwoods. There aren’t as many people there, and the woods are thicker and easier to hide in. I think that’s where they would go.”
“Where will we go?” whined Lug.
It was a good question. It was almost dark now, and as Waggit knew well, the park at night was a much more dangerous place than during the day. Not only was it easier to get lost or stumble into things that you couldn’t see, there was also the added hazard of the Stoners, gangs of teenagers who often came into the park during the hours of darkness. They would terrorize both homeless people and any animals that they saw, especially dogs, throwing rocks at them and using their knives if they got close enough. They had even been known to set fires with gasoline, and one dog had died in the blaze. Why they did it nobody knew; they just seemed to enjoy wreaking havoc.
“We need somewhere safe to pitch the tent,” said Felicia. “Have you any idea where that might be?”
Waggit thought hard again, his brow wrinkled with concentration. Then he remembered an area in the Deepwoods where he had once followed Tazar, the team’s leader. Tazar had been spending a lot of time away from the team, and its members had been worried. Waggit had volunteered to track him and had tailed him to a small glade, surrounded by woods and with steep rocks at one end. It was there that he had seen the leader with a female dog and her two puppies. She was a loner, a stray dog who lived by herself, and Tazar was the father of her puppies. The spot where he had discovered them would make an ideal campsite. There was even a stream nearby where they could get water.
“I think I know the perfect place,” he said. “Follow me.”
He led them toward the Deepwoods End. They crossed the wide path the team called the Cross-way, which divided the Deepwoods from the rest of the park. As soon as they were over it they were in a densely wooded area and the going became difficult, the paths narrower with tree roots waiting to trip them up and shallow gullies that were easy to stumble into. After a couple of wrong turns the path they were on suddenly opened up into the glade, now lit only by moonlight.
“Excellent,” said Felicia. “You couldn’t have chosen a better location. Let’s camp by the rock face.”
She removed the tent from the top of her backpack and swiftly assembled it. Soon they were ready to turn in for the rest of the night, but Waggit found it difficult to sleep. He couldn’t get comfortable, and his mind refused to switch off. But it was Lug, not Waggit, who heard it first—a soft rustling noise. Initially it sounded like one of the small animals that live in the park, except that instead of going in one direction, it was circling the tent.
“What do you think it is?” whispered Lug.
“I don’t know,” said Waggit, “but we’d better find out.”
Lug didn’t like the sound of “we” and let Waggit go first. Felicia was fast asleep, snoring gently like a purring cat, so Waggit took the zipper of the tent’s door in his mouth and, as gently and quietly as possible, pulled it up until there was an opening big enough for the two dogs to get through. Gingerly he stuck his head out. There was nobody there that he could see, but then his nose started to twitch. It was picking up a smell, one that was very familiar to him.
“Cal?” he said.
There was silence, and then a slight rustling followed by a whispered, “Waggit? Is that you?”
“It is, Cal,” said Waggit. “It is me.”
“Who’s with you?” the voice asked.
“Another dog called Lug,” said Waggit, “and a female Upright called Felicia.”
There was a pause.
“An Upright? Is she okay?”
“She’s more okay than any Upright you’ve ever met,” said Waggit. “Or me, for that matter.”
There was another period of silence, and then out of a bush at the edge of the woods a dog cautiously appeared. He was of medium build, still young, and with German Shepherd somewhere in his background. When Waggit saw him he gave a yelp of joy, then ran over to him, tail wagging with delight, and licked his face effusively. The ot
her dog seemed equally pleased to see Waggit and buried his nose in the fur at the back of his neck. Lug stood nervously on the sidelines, not quite sure what he was supposed to do.
“It’s good to see you again,” said Waggit.
“You too,” said Cal. “When did you get back?”
“Just this rising,” said Waggit. “I went straight to the tunnel, but it had all changed. What happened?”
“Oh, it was awful,” said Cal. “One day some Uprights came, not Ruzelas, but the ones that work with them. They started to take all of the boxes and stuff out of the tunnel, and others cut down the trees and bushes on top. Fortunately we was all out when it happened, except for Alicia, but she managed to get away. You know how fast she is. But there we were, homeless, like a bunch of loners. I tell you, Waggit, I think Uprights are taking over the world.”
It was at this point that Felicia chose to come out of the tent. When he saw her, Cal backed away, hackles up.
“It’s okay, really,” said Waggit. “This is Felicia. Felicia, this is Cal. He’s one of my old teammates.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Cal,” said Felicia politely.
Cal tipped his head to one side inquisitively. Then he sidled up to Waggit and whispered in his ear.
“Is it my imagination, or can she understand what we say?”
“She sure can,” confirmed Waggit. “I told you that you’ve never met an Upright like her.”
“And she can speak to us as well?” Cal asked.
“She does,” Waggit assured him.
“My word,” Cal said.
“Your every word, actually,” said Waggit.
There was a whimper from the sidelines.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Waggit. “This is Lug.”
Cal had been so focused on Waggit that he hadn’t even noticed the pit bull.
“Is he all right?” he asked Waggit.
“Well,” said Waggit, “I wouldn’t say that exactly, but he’s not like you think he is. If he ever summoned the courage to fight his own shadow it would probably win.”
“He looks a lot like Tashi,” Cal observed, “only fatter, of course.”
Tashi was the team’s archenemy, a violent and treacherous dog with a love of fighting, and fighting dirty at that.
“He doesn’t act like Tashi,” said Waggit. “It might be better if he did.”
Lug lay down with his head on his paws and sighed.
“I’m convinced he has many other fine qualities,” Felicia interjected. “We just don’t know what they are yet.”
This didn’t seem to cheer Lug up at all. Cal, for his part, remained suspicious of Felicia. He looked at her with a mixture of fear and awe until she began to talk to him in what Waggit now thought of as her calming voice.
“Now, Cal, I overheard you telling Waggit the sad story of losing your home. It’s a terrible thing to be without shelter or a place to call you own.”
Waggit thought this an odd thing for a woman to say who, as far as he knew, had no home other than the tent they were standing in front of.
“Tell me,” she continued, “has the team found somewhere else to live?”
“Yes,” said Cal with a dreamy look on his face that was a sure indication he was under her spell.
“And where is it?” she asked.
“It’s right under your tent,” Cal replied.
15
Welcomed Back
They all looked at the tent as if expecting to see a steady stream of dogs coming out of its entrance. But as Cal explained, the team’s new home was beneath the campsite. They had discovered it after a very heavy rainstorm one night. Rainwater had carved a deep gully around the roots of a tree and had revealed the top of a large sewage pipe below the surface. It was broken and no longer worked, and after some concerted digging by the larger members of the team, an entrance was made that allowed the dogs to crawl inside.
“It’s good from a security point of view,” said Cal, “but it’s not really big enough and gets very stuffy when we’re all in there. In fact on warm nights a lot of us sleep outside, but it’s better than nothing, which is what we had before we found it.”
From his description Waggit realized that this was a far cry from the spacious safety of the tunnel, and it was upsetting to think of his friends living in such reduced circumstances. He wondered why things had to change all the time; what harm would it do if they stayed the same? None that he could see.
Cal looked at Felicia. “Is this the woman what adopted you?” he asked.
“No,” said Waggit. “I met Felicia upstate.”
“We’ve been traveling together,” Felicia explained.
“Where’s upstate?” asked Cal, who had not been outside the park since he was abandoned there at a young age.
“Oh, it’s a long way away,” said Waggit with all the experience of a world traveler. “Farther than you could imagine.”
“How did you get there?” asked Cal.
“The woman who adopted me took me to a farm and left me there. It was horrible,” he said.
“Well, that’s Uprights for you,” declared Cal. “Even the so-called good ones you can’t trust.”
“We don’t know that exactly,” Felicia interrupted. “We don’t know if she left you there for good. She may have intended to come and collect you at some point.”
Waggit and Cal looked at each other and rolled their eyes, but both let her comment pass without a response.
“So what’re you going to do now?” asked Cal.
“I was hoping the team would take me back,” said Waggit. “Do you think they will?”
“I would,” Cal assured him, “and I’m sure all the others would as well, but really it’s up to Olang.”
“Olang?” asked Waggit.
“You remember,” said Cal. “Tazar’s son, Olang. Tazar won’t do nothing now without Olang says it’s okay.”
Waggit remembered that he had met Olang once when the dog was a puppy. He was an unremarkable creature who was quite aggressive even then, but Tazar clearly adored him.
“When can I see everybody again?” asked Waggit.
“Well,” said Cal, “I’ve got to go, because I’m supposed to be on eyes and ears, but why don’t we all get together first thing in the rising?”
It was agreed that Cal would tell the team about Waggit’s return and bring them to the tent at daybreak. Then they parted, Cal back to his sentry duty and the other three to the tent to get some sleep. Waggit nodded off almost immediately, only to awaken a few hours later with a start. He could feel the presence of dogs all around him, and he knew that Cal had been as good as his word. He opened the flap of the tent and looked outside.
There they were, the whole team, waiting to see him: Cal, Raz, Lady Alicia, Lady Magica, Lady Alona, Gruff, Gordo, Little One, and Little Two. As he came out of the tent they crowded around him, tails wagging, everyone trying to lick his face or nuzzle into his fur. The air was filled with growls of approval and howls of welcome, and Waggit could feel relief flooding through his body.
His fears had proven to be groundless. This was his family, his tribe, the animals he felt closest to in the world. Magica told him how much she missed him, and Gordo said that it was good to have the best hunter back because the food supply had been somewhat stingy of late. Even Gruff, the grouch of the group, said that he supposed he was quite pleased to see him, probably. Alicia, a long-limbed, purebred Afghan hound, grudgingly said that if they had to have someone else in the cramped quarters in which they now lived then it might as well be someone as skinny as him.
Suddenly the excitement quieted down and the dogs moved apart to reveal Tazar, the leader, tall and dignified, with his shiny black coat and magnificent tail that he carried proudly like a battle standard. Waggit noticed that he had a few gray hairs on his muzzle, but these seemed to make him look even more distinguished than before.
“Waggit, my friend.” His voice boomed. “Welcome back. We never expected
you to come back once, let alone twice.”
After the woman had rescued him from the pound Waggit had returned to tell the team he was safe and living with her.
Now he looked Tazar in the eyes.
“This time, Tazar,” he said respectfully, “I would like to stay, if the team will have me, of course.”
“Waggit, you’re our family, our brother,” Tazar replied. “Family doesn’t abandon one of its own just because he makes a mistake. We’re only canine, after all.”
“Not so fast, Pa,” said a voice behind Tazar. “How do you know he’s not a spy for the Uprights, sent to find out where we are? He’s been living with Uprights, so how do we know if we can still trust him?”
The owner of the voice moved next to Tazar, and Waggit saw a large, muscled dog with narrow, mean eyes. He was black except for a large white patch over one eye that made him look even more sinister. This was Olang, the leader’s son.
“My boy,” said Tazar, “if it was anyone else, your question would have been well put. But this is Waggit, and if nothing else he is honorable. He may have been foolish at times, but I would trust him with my life.”
“Well, I think you’re too soft with some of these strays.” Olang continued, “We can’t just take in anyone that comes along. It isn’t fair to the rest of us.”
Waggit hurriedly tried to change the topic of conversation.
“I don’t see Lowdown. Has he, I mean is he, well, you know, did he die?”
“Well, let’s see,” said Tazar. “You know, I’m not sure. Why don’t we ask him? Lowdown, did you die yet?”
There was a wheezing chuckle from the edge of the glade.
“Not yet, Tazar, but I might by the time I get to you.”
Waggit turned in the direction of the voice to see a scruffy, short-legged, and very old dog slowly and painfully moving toward them. It was Lowdown. Waggit had been closer to this aged creature than any other animal, and with a yelp of pleasure he ran over to him.
“Lowdown, you’re still here,” he cried with joy in his voice.
“Yup,” agreed Lowdown, “it’s a miracle, ain’t it? I guess I must be tougher than I thought.” He paused. “Or maybe just more stubborn.”