Not-Just-Anybody Family

by Betsy Byars

  Pap nodded.

  “Mr. Blossom, you may go now.”

  Pap stood blinking in the courtroom. He spoke willingly for the first time since he had entered the courtroom. “Home?” he asked in a bewildered, incredulous way.

  “Yes, Mr. Blossom, you are free to go home.”

  Mud was a good digger. He never dug around the farm unless it was a gopher or snake hole and Pap indicated it was all right to dig. Pap would do this by pointing with the toe of one worn shoe at the hole. “What’s that, Mud?” Pap would ask. “What’s down there?”

  Mud would dive in. He would dig so hard the dirt would fly over his back. He never actually got his teeth on a gopher or snake, but he sure was a good digger.

  It took Mud seventeen minutes to dig the hole halfway under the fence. Then he had to dig the rest of the way on his side, working his lean body under the chain, pushing the dirt behind him with his paws.

  He squirmed out on the other side and immediately began shaking the clay from his fur. He still felt dirty. There was a patch of grass by the trees and Mud rolled in that. Then he shook himself again.

  Satisfied, he started through the woods.

  Maggie cried, “Pap!”

  She pushed Junior down the aisle and to the front of the courthouse so fast, Junior screamed. He thought his legs were going to ram all the way through the judge’s desk. The judge rapped his gavel.

  “It’s us!” she cried.

  In bewilderment Pap watched her come. Maggie let go of the wheelchair to throw her arms around him, then around the startled Vern. She had never embraced either one of them before.

  Junior’s chair did a wheelie which left him facing the room and the reporters. Cameras clicked.

  The judge rapped again for order.

  “Perhaps,” the judge said, “the Blossom family could continue this family reunion in my chambers.”

  “That’s very kind, your honor,” the lawyer said. As the cameras rolled, he ushered them all toward the chamber door, imagining how fine this would look on the evening news.

  At the door Maggie turned and beckoned to Ralphie. “This includes you,” she said.

  CHAPTER 29

  Going Home

  Ralphie and Junior were on their way back to the hospital in a police car. Neither one of them had put up a fuss. They were glad to go. Both of them wanted to get back in bed. Their legs hurt.

  “I’ll come see you,” Maggie had said to Junior. She leaned down and looked into the car so she could see Ralphie too. “I’ll come see both of you.”

  She grinned, showing her chipped tooth, and threw her braids behind her shoulders. Then she closed the car door.

  “Good-bye,” Junior said. Then, after a pause, he added, “Maggie,” so she would know he was speaking to her instead of the courthouse.

  For the first time in his life he was not saying good-bye to a building, even though this afternoon the courthouse had become Junior’s all-time favorite building in the world. He really loved the courthouse. He loved his family more.

  “Good-bye, Pap!” He called through the glass. “Good-bye, Vern!”

  Vern and Pap didn’t hear him. They were on the steps of the courthouse having their pictures taken. Both Pap and Vern would have been long gone except that the lawyer had an arm around each of them and was bodily holding them in place. Their arms were clamped straight down at their sides.

  Reporters were calling out questions as if it were a news conference. Vern’s questions were: “Son, tell us how you decided to break into city jail? How did you feel when you got inside? Were you scared? Would you do it again? Have you got anything to say about security at city jail?”

  Pap’s questions were: “Sir, how did you feel when you saw your grandson coming through the vent? What are your plans now that you’re free? What did the boy’s mother say when she heard he was in jail? Do you ever plan to collect any more pop cans?”

  Neither Pap nor Vern said a word. The lawyer did the talking. Finally, when he’d had all the attention he was likely to get, he lifted his hands. Pap and Vern started down the steps. The reporters followed.

  “Now, you guys give these folks a break. They’ve been through a lot. I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do. First we’re going to ride over and get Mr. Blossom’s truck, and then he and his grandchildren are going home. I am too.”

  With a laugh, Henry Ward Bowman guided Pap and Vern to his car. He got in the front. Vern and Pap and Maggie squeezed in the back. Mr. Bowman and Maggie waved for the cameras. Vern and Pap did not.

  It was dusk and Mud stopped to lick his foot. It hurt. His tongue found a sharp point that wasn’t supposed to be there. Something had stuck into his foot, between the pads, a thorn of some kind.

  Mud tried to take the stub in his teeth. It was too short. He dug into the flesh of his foot so deeply, his nose wrinkled. It hurt a lot, but this time he got the end of the thorn.

  Mud pulled it out and spit it on the ground. He looked at it closely before he went back to licking his sore paw.

  Mud was so intent on his sore paw the he failed to hear a noise behind him. He kept licking.

  A skunk stuck his head out of the hollow tree behind Mud. The skunk couldn’t see Mud because of the ferns. Mud hadn’t seen the skunk for the same reason, and Mud had not smelled the skunk because the skunk was downwind.

  The skunk was beginning his evening search for food. It was beetle and bug season, and they were all fat, crisp, and oily. Next month there would be crickets and grasshoppers and, after that, caterpillars. The skunk was hungry.

  The skunk came through the ferns, as he always did. His nose was to the ground. His tail was relaxed.

  Mud got up. Now he heard the noise behind him. Ferns rustled; parted. He swirled around. The hair rose on his back.

  Too late he saw the long pointed nose, the black and white fur. Too late he recognized the smell.

  Mud’s tail dropped between his legs at the same moment that the skunk swirled, flared, thumped his hind legs on the ground, and sent a stream of liquid in Mud’s direction.

  In an instant Mud was blinded. He ran yelping with pain and fear around the small clearing. He ran into trees and briars, senselessly trying to run away from the pain and the fear and the blindness, and getting nowhere.

  Skirting the yelping, panic-stricken dog, the skunk proceeded on his evening rounds. He found a beetle under the first stone he overturned.

  “Drop me off at the emergency entrance,” Ralphie told the policeman as they turned into the hospital.

  “Me too,” Junior said. If he could help it, he would never be separated from Ralphie again.

  Ralphie turned to him. “We can pick up another wheelchair for me and a couple of interns and get pushed up to our room.”

  “Good,” Junior said.

  “We’ll probably be there in time for supper.”

  “Good.” Suddenly Junior had his first unpleasant thought of the afternoon. “Maybe,” he said in a rush, “they really will put medicine in our food now. Maybe because we ran away, they’ll want us to be so groggy we can’t do it again.”

  “Nah,” said Ralphie. “They wouldn’t dare.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Mud’s Missing

  “Where’s my dog?”

  “What?”

  “The dog that was in the truck. Where’s my dog?”

  This was the first time Pap had ever worried about Mud. He never had to before because Mud was the most sensible member of the Blossom family. He knew what he was supposed to do, and he did it. It was as simple as that.

  Pap had not doubted for a minute that Mud would be with the truck, in the back, curled up on his gunnysack. Either that or he would be nearby getting something to eat or drink.

  When he saw the man’s blank look, he let out a piercing whistle that went up and down like a siren. It could be heard for a mile.

  “I don’t know anything about any dog,” the man at the garage said, stepping back out of Pap’s r
each.

  “Who towed Mr. Blossom’s truck in?” the lawyer asked.

  “When was this?”

  “Monday.”

  “Pete was working Monday, I believe. Arnie, ask Pete if he knows anything about this man’s dog.”

  The Blossoms waited in silence by the truck. Maggie had gotten so used to things getting better that tears of disappointment filled her eyes. It had seemed like the whole rest of her life was going to be like that—better and better and better. Now, after just one day of getting better, it was getting worse again.

  And she had not given one single thought to Mud! She whisked the tears away with the tips of her braids.

  Pete came out of the garage wiping oil off his hands. “I never seen any dog,” he said.

  “He was a tall dog,” Vern said, “with gold-colored eyes and a red bandanna around his neck. His name was Mud.”

  “I never seen a dog of any description.”

  Pap touched one finger to his forehead, trying to remember whether Mud had gotten out of the truck at the scene of the accident. If he had, Mud most likely would be there, on Spring Street, waiting. He gave another whistle just in case.

  “You could put an ad in the paper,” Mr. Bowman said. “Or, better still, let the newspaper do a story for you. Your family is news now, Mr. Blossom. Call the paper and tell them about your dog—what was his name?”

  “Mud.”

  “I’ll call them for you and ask them to send a reporter to the farm. Somebody in town will have seen the dog.”

  The Blossoms kept standing around. None of them wanted to leave, because it would be like giving up on Mud.

  Pete said helpfully, “Your truck’s running good. We tuned her up and took care of the expired inspection sticker. Mr. Bowman took care of the license. You’re ready to roll.”

  Still the Blossoms stood there.

  Finally Vern said, “Pap, maybe we ought to go. Maybe Mud’s waiting downtown.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” Pap said.

  He led the way to the truck and they got in. “You folks have a nice day,” Pete called after them.

  Ralphie’s mother was waiting for Ralphie in the hospital room. The minute she saw him she leapt up from her chair. She had come to the hospital in such a rush that she had on a dress over her bathing suit.

  Ralphie said, “Hi, Mom. What are you doing here?”

  Ralphie’s mom said, “Don’t you ‘hi’ me, and I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing here.”

  Ralphie’s mom said, “Ralphie, the nurse called me on the phone and told me what you did. I cannot believe that you would take this little boy with two broken legs in a cab to the courthouse. Do you realize that you could have done permanent injury to this little boy? The nurse said today was the first time he had even gotten up. One of his legs is broken in two places. If you have done any damage to either one of that little boy’s legs, your dad’s going to wear you out.”

  Ralphie’s mom turned to Junior. “Are you all right? I am just so sorry for what my son did. I apologize for him.”

  “He didn’t do me any damage,” Junior said. “I enjoyed it.”

  Pap hated to return to the scene of the accident. As soon as he turned the corner onto Spring Street, it all came back to him—the abrupt stop, the falling cans, the boys in the Toyota, the police attack.

  “Right here’s where it happened,” he told Vern and Maggie in a low, sad voice.

  There was a parking slot in front of Woolco, and Pap backed into it.

  The three of them got out. Pap let out a piercing whistle. Everybody on the block turned around to find out where the noise had come from, but Mud did not come bounding into view with his ears flying, eyes shining, as they had hoped.

  “Maybe he’s around back,” Vern said, “where they throw the garbage. Maybe he’s back there eating out of the Dumpster.”

  “Go see.”

  Maggie and Pap waited, without speaking, for Vern to come back. Their hope died as they heard him calling “Mud! Mu-ud! Mud!” from the back of the Winn Dixie.

  Vern came around the store shaking his head.

  “Not there?”

  “No.”

  “Well,” Pap said. “That’s that.” He sighed so deeply that he seemed to get shorter. “Well, there’s nothing to do but go home.”

  “There’s still the reporters,” Maggie said. “I know they’ll be able to find him. I know they will.”

  “Maybe,” Pap said. He swallowed, almost choking on his next words because he hated reporters so much. “If they do, I’ll be mighty grateful.”

  The three of them climbed into the truck. As they drove off, Maggie said, “You look on that side of the road, Vern, and I’ll look on this side. Maybe we’ll see him.”

  They watched all the way home, but neither of them did.

  CHAPTER 31

  In the News

  A description of Mud appeared in the state paper along with a story about the trial. The headline was BLOSSOM DOG LOST FOLLOWING OWNER’S ARREST.

  BULLETIN:

  Yesterday, following the release of Pap Blossom, it was learned that his dog, Mud, had been frightened during his owner’s arrest and had run away. Several people reported seeing a dog fitting Mud’s description running through the downtown area.

  Later Mud was spotted at a local Dairy Queen, lying beneath the carryout window. He appeared to be in a coma, one woman said. Several people offered him bits of food, but he would not eat. When the Dairy Queen opened the next day, the dog was gone.

  The dog has not been seen since, although there have been various unconfirmed reports of a dog seen on I-85 yesterday afternoon.

  Mud is a large dog with short, yellowish fur. He has golden eyes. He has a piece of an old red bandanna tied around his neck.

  Anyone seeing a dog answering this description is asked to call the police department. Mr. Henry Ward Bowman, Pap Blossom’s lawyer, has offered a fifty-dollar reward.

  Beside the story, in the center column, was a police artist’s composite drawing of Mud. Mud had never had his picture taken, so this was the best they could do.

  Vern, Maggie, and Pap had been satisfied with the likeness.

  “That’s him,” Pap said.

  “Yes, that’s exactly the way he looks,” Maggie had said, “when he’s feeling—” Tears filled her eyes. “—when he’s feeling happy.”

  Vicki Blossom stopped for a hamburger at a diner just across the state line. She saw Mud’s face looking at her through the newspaper dispenser. She got out a quarter as quickly as she could.

  She went into the diner reading.

  “Well, what next?” she asked the man on the stool next to hers. She showed him the front page. “My daddy-in-law was arrested, my little boy busted into jail to get him out, and now there’s an all-points bulletin for our dog.”

  “I hear the old man got off.”

  She nodded. “That’s what they tell me. I’ve been calling the police and the hospital and the lawyer. I can’t get anybody. I’ll be home this afternoon to see things for myself.”

  She ordered a hamburger and settled down to read the story.

  “Look,” she said, “there’s all my kids. My youngest boy is in the wheelchair, two broken legs, and he’s grinning like it’s Christmas.

  “There’s Maggie, my girl, and she’s got better sense than to take her little brother out of the hospital. She practically kidnapped him, according to the nurse. I don’t know who this boy is. That’s probably the cabdriver.”

  She looked close at the third picture. “This—I almost didn’t recognize him with his hair combed—is my daddy-in-law, and this is my oldest boy, Vern. This man between them is the lawyer.”

  She drank some coffee to get the strength to look at the newspaper some more. She shook her head.

  “I can’t believe this. My whole family smeared across the front page of the state paper. I’m going to have to straighten every one of them out.”

  Ralphie s
aid, “Well, good-bye.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “I do, though. You heard my mom.”

  Junior nodded.

  “You and everybody else in the hospital,” Ralphie added.

  Ralphie’s mom had come to take him home that morning. She was still mad. She said, “If you can get around that good, good enough to tramp downtown to the courthouse, you can get around good enough to go home.”

  “I’ve got to have my therapy!” Ralphie had cried. “You want me to be a cripple?”

  She pointed at him. “You”—it was like something Junior had seen once on a poster—“are going home.”

  “Well, can I at least put my leg on?”

  She was already storming down the hall. She did not answer.

  “You want me to read the story about Mud one more time before I go?”

  Junior nodded. This would make the eighth time, but Junior would never get tired of hearing it.

  “‘Bulletin: Yesterday, following the release of Pap Blossom … ’”

  CHAPTER 32

  The Hero

  The sight of his mom in the hospital doorway caused Junior to burst into tears.

  She rushed to his bed. “Junior, let me look at you. I have been so worried. Darling, how are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you aren’t. Let me see those legs.” She threw back the sheet. “Both of them. You broke both of them.” Tears came to her eyes too.

  He nodded.

  “Well, one good thing about our family is that our bones heal fast. Your dad broke seventeen bones in his lifetime and never spent one day in the hospital. He took the casts off himself.”

  Junior’s mom always knew how to make him feel better. He wiped his tears on the sleeve of his pajamas. “Did they find Mud?”

  The newspaper was still on his lap. He had shed so many tears on the composite drawing of Mud that the picture looked bubbly. Since Ralphie had gone, Junior had not had anyone to read the story to him, but he had looked at the pictures so much, he had them memorized.