The Case of the Missing Family
Page 3
Here are some ideas:
Go back to Four Lakes.
Get back in the van and see where Uncle Marty and Raina go next.
See if I can find Springtown.
The idea I like best is “See if I can find Springtown.” That’s the best way to find out what happened to Kayla and Dad.
But I don’t know where Springtown is. It must be close. Uncle Marty and Raina talked about how far away it was. But I can’t read street signs, so how will I ever find it by myself?
Maybe “Get back in the van and see where Uncle Marty and Raina go next” is a better idea. Maybe they’re going to Springtown.
Or maybe they’re going back to Four Lakes. That would be okay, too. Connor and Mom must be pretty worried about me. If Uncle Marty and Raina are going back to Springtown, it would be nice to catch a ride with them. It would take me forever to walk back.
It doesn’t matter whether Uncle Marty and Raina are headed to Springtown or Four Lakes. Either way, getting back in the van is definitely the best idea.
I creep slowly out from behind the couch so Uncle Marty and Raina don’t see me. But they aren’t anywhere in the garage.
Uh-oh. The big garage door is going down!
Darkness.
A lock clicks into place on the outside of the garage door. I hear the van doors open and close. Then I hear the van start up and drive away.
7
Locked In
I wander around the garage, around all the boxes and furniture. I can see pretty well in the dark. Unfortunately, I don’t see a way out of here.
I go to the big garage door and scratch at it. It rattles, but doesn’t budge.
“Hello? Can anybody hear me?” I call.
If ever there was a good time to use the Network, this is it.
“HELLO!” I try again. Louder this time. “I’M LOCKED IN A BUILDING THAT LOOKS LIKE A BUNCH OF GARAGES FROM THE OUTSIDE! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? CAN ANYONE HELP?”
No answer.
Hmm. There must not be any dogs nearby. If there were, they’d answer. Dogs don’t ignore calls over the Network.
I pace back and forth in front of the door. There’s got to be a way out of here.
I sniff along the edge of the garage, right next to the wall. Maybe there’s a loose board or a hole I can make bigger. But I don’t see any loose boards or holes.
I push against the wall, but nothing happens. I scratch at the wall. I ram my shoulder against it. I even take a running start and ram my shoulder again.
All that happens is: I get a sore shoulder.
“HELLO?” I give the Network another try. You never know when a new dog might wander by. “HELLO? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?”
Still no answer.
My shoulders slump. I could be stuck in this garage until Uncle Marty and Raina come back.
What if they never come back?
I climb up onto the couch that I never used to be allowed on, turn around a few times, then plop down on my belly. There must be a way out of here. I just haven’t thought of it yet.
I think ...
Then I turn around and think some more ...
I lie here for eleventy-hundred hours and think so hard it feels like my head might explode.
All I’ve come up with is:
Mom’s couch isn’t as comfortable as I thought it would be.
I am really, really hungry.
I wonder how long a dog can live without food?
What if a dog can only live eleventy-hundred-and-one hours without food? Has it been eleventy-hundred-and-one hours yet? Maybe I should search for food rather than for a way out of here. There must be something I can eat in this garage. Even if it’s just a couch cushion.
I stick my nose between the two cushions. There are a few crumbs down there. I stand up and nudge one of the cushions all the way off the couch and ... voices!
I hear voices. Human voices.
I also hear a garage door go up, but it’s not this garage door. It’s the one next door. Light pours in above me. Hey, I didn’t notice that the walls in here don’t go all the way to the ceiling. The garages are open at the top.
I climb back up onto the couch. “Hey!” I call to the people next door. “Hello! Do you hear me?”
“Did you hear that?” a female human asks. “It sounds like there’s a dog in the next garage.”
“YES!” I say, rising to my feet and wagging my tail. I climb up on top of the stack of boxes behind the couch. “You’re right! There is a dog in here! And he needs help! Can you get me out of here?”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s coming from that garage,” a male human replies. “It’s probably coming from around the building.”
“No,” I say. “It’s coming from next door to you. The dog is NEXT DOOR TO YOU!”
“Can we see the dog?” asks a child. Probably a female child, but it’s hard to tell.
“No, I don’t want you two to go running off,” says the female human. “We’re going to leave as soon as we find the camping gear.”
“Aww,” the kids whine.
I can’t help whining a little myself. How do I make them understand that I’m right next door to them? I’m not around the building.
I gaze up at the top of that wall. I wonder if I could climb over it and into the next garage.
There’s a shelf next to me. I put my front paws on the shelf to test whether or not it will hold me. I think it will. If I climb fast. I scamper up to the top of the shelf, and it only wobbles a little. But the shelf isn’t very wide. Or very deep.
I can see over the wall into the other garage now. There are a lot of boxes stacked in that garage, too. And four humans. Two of them are grown-up humans and the other two are kid humans. They all have the same kind of hair. It’s the color of fire.
There’s also a snowmobile in that garage. I DON’T love snowmobiles. They’re loud and smelly, and when they come toward me I think they want to kill me.
But snowmobile or not, I have to get out of here.
I slowly raise my paws to the top of the wall. The shelf wobbles even more beneath me.
One ... seven ... five ... JUMP!
I land on a box in the other garage.
The snowmobile doesn’t move. But all four humans just about jump out of their shoes. Their mouths are like big Os when they see me.
The boy human is the first to speak. “Whoa! Where did he come from?” he says. He’s the same size as Connor and Kayla.
“He must’ve jumped over the wall,” says the girl. She is smaller than the boy.
“I told you there was a dog over there,” says the mother.
The snowmobile doesn’t say anything.
“He’s so cute,” the girl says as she starts to run toward me.
Her father grabs her arm. “Careful, Lydia,” he warns. “We don’t know if he’s friendly.”
“Oh, I’m friendly,” I tell them. “But you better watch out for that snowmobile.”
Snowmobiles are not friendly.
Lydia pulls away from her dad. “He’s friendly,” she says. “Look, he’s smiling.”
Actually I’m panting. I’m really, really nervous about that snowmobile. What if it attacks me?
Lydia reaches up and pets my front paws. Mm. She smells like cheese. I LOVE cheese. It’s my favorite food!
I lick her hand in case it’s got some cheese on it. Too bad. It doesn’t.
“See how friendly he is?” Lydia says.
Her brother comes over and pets me then, too. He’s tall enough to reach my head. I don’t like it when strangers pet my head.
Lydia turns to her mother. “Can we keep him?”
What? “No, you can’t keep me!” I tell her before the mother can answer. “I already have a family.” In fact, I have more than one family.
“Nice-looking dog like that?” the mother says. “I’m sure he’s got a family.”
“Does he have any tags?” the father asks. “Maybe we can find out who he belongs to.”
“His tag doesn’t have his name on it,” the boy says, “It just says ‘This is my ID number.’”
That’s the tag that talks about my microchip. The boy starts to read the number, but I pull away. I’ve got to get out of here. Now!
Unfortunately, there is a snowmobile standing between me and the open garage door.
Be brave, Buddy. Be brave, I tell myself.
I hop down from the box, go around a bunch of other boxes and ZOOM past that snowmobile.
I am outside now. And I am FREE!
I don’t think the snowmobile is chasing me, but I run anyway. Down the long driveway and into a cornfield.
I’ve never been inside a cornfield before. I like it in here. It smells nice. And I really like how the dirt squishes between the pads of my toes.
But I’m not going to find Uncle Marty and Raina in the middle of a cornfield. And I’m not going to find out what happened to Kayla and Dad here, either. I’m not even going to find my way to Springtown or Four Lakes.
So what am I doing here?
The people from the garage next to Uncle Marty’s aren’t following me. Neither is the snowmobile. Nobody is following me.
I stop running. I think I need another new plan.
8
Follow That Scent!
When you don’t know what to do next, you should make a list of things you know and things you don’t know. That will help you make a plan.
Here is what I know:
I am not in Four Lakes anymore.
It took eleventy-one-hundred hours to get here. Give or take.
Uncle Marty and Raina are gone.
They locked Kayla, Mom, and Dad’s stuff in a garage.
Kayla and Dad are not here.
Kayla and Dad are not THAT WORD.
Here is what I don’t know:
Where am I?
Where did Uncle Marty and Raina go?
Where are Kayla and Dad?
Here is my plan:
? ? ?
I had a plan before I got locked in that garage. My plan was to hide in the back of Uncle Marty’s van and find out where he and Raina were going next.
Uncle Marty and Raina are long gone, but maybe I can pick up their trail. Maybe I can follow it and see where they went.
I turn around and run back through the cornfield the way I came. The leaves on the cornstalks slap against my hips as I follow my own scent.
When I come out of the cornfield, I see that the people from the garage next to Uncle Marty’s are gone, too. There is nobody around.
I put my nose to the ground and zigzag around the driveway. I smell coffee and gasoline and Yuck! Cigarette butts.
Uncle Marty and Raina haven’t been gone that long. I should be able to pick up their scent.
Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... ah, here it is! Wow, I can even smell Kayla, Dad, and Mom a little bit, too. Here is a list of everything I smell: Mom, Dad, Kayla, their stuff, Uncle Marty, Raina, the van, and the trailer. I follow all those smells down the long driveway, past all those garages and out to the road.
Hmm. Which way do I turn? The smells keep going in both directions.
Wait.
I sniff again. I don’t smell Kayla, Dad, and Mom to the right. I only smell Uncle Marty and Raina and their van and trailer.
I do smell Kayla, Dad, and Mom to the left, though. That’s the direction we came from. I probably smell them because their stuff was on the trailer when we came.
But Uncle Marty and Raina put all those boxes and furniture in that garage. The van and trailer probably don’t smell much like Kayla, Dad, and Mom anymore.
Where did Uncle Marty and Raina go next if they didn’t go back to Four Lakes?
There’s only one way to find out. Follow their scent!
I start walking. There’s a building up ahead. I can tell they’ve got eggs, sausage, pancakes, hamburgers, and French fries in there. I LOVE eggs, sausage, pancakes, hamburgers, and French fries. They’re my favorite foods!
And I am sooooo hungry. I think about stopping at that building. Just for a second. Just long enough to gobble up some eggs or hamburgers or whatever I can find. But finding Uncle Marty and Raina is more important than finding food. So I keep going.
Up one hill. Down another. I was already hungry. Now I’m thirsty. And tired.
But I can’t stop now because I see more buildings ahead. I must be coming to a town. Could it be Springtown?
I walk past a swimming pool, but the fence around it is twisted and bent. The pool is filled with dirt, leaves, and part of a slide.
There’s a BIG van parked across the street. It is the biggest, longest van I’ve ever seen in my life. But it looks nice because it has books painted on the side. I watch as people go inside the van and others come back out. At first I’m afraid that some of these people are going to try to catch me because I am walking without a human. But everyone seems kind of sad and tired. They don’t even notice me.
What’s the matter with these people?
I sniff the road. I can still smell Uncle Marty and Raina’s scent. I can almost smell Kayla and Dad’s scents, too. But I’m pretty sure that’s just wishful smelling.
I follow Uncle Marty’s scent down the street and around a corner. I pass houses that are missing roofs and part of their walls. There are Dumpsters parked in front of some of these houses. The farther I walk, the worse things look. In some places it looks like there are whole buildings and trees missing.
Is this what happens when a tornado rips through a town?
I follow Uncle Marty’s scent around another corner. There are people working on this street. Some are working on street lights and utility poles. Others are working on houses. No one is talking, they’re just working.
A lot of the houses have tents and campers parked on the front lawns. Are people living in tents and campers while their houses are fixed up?
I spot Uncle Marty’s van and empty trailer up ahead. There’s a camper in the small yard next to the van and trailer. The house behind it is missing the roof and part of the walls.
I sniff the trailer, the van, the tiny yard in front of the camper and all of a sudden my heart stops. This isn’t wishful smelling. I smell Kayla! Not her stuff, but her.
She’s here!
Well, maybe she’s not here right now. But she’s been here. She’s been here recently.
Hey, there’s a book over on the tree stump. It’s got a red train car at the top, and some writing, and a picture of a dog and four kids. I know that book! Kayla used to read it to me all the time. It’s her FAVORITE book! And it has her scent all over it.
“Kayla, are you here?” I call out. My tail is going eleventy-million-hundred-jillion miles an hour!
“KAYLA? CAN YOU HEAR ME? WHERE ARE YOU, KAYLA?”
I knew she wasn’t ... dead. I just knew it!
So where is she?
I sniff all around the yard. Around the camper. Around the broken house behind the camper. I smell Kayla. And Dad, too. I know it’s them. But I don’t see them.
“KAYLA!!!” I yell as loud as I can. “KAYLA, CAN YOU HEAR ME???”
The door to the camper swings open. A lady in a flowery house dress steps outside. It’s Grandma!
Grandma and I have never been the best of friends. We had a little misunderstanding over a slipper once. But we’re family, so I think we should forgive and forget.
I zoom across the yard. When I reach her, I throw myself at her. “IS KAYLA HERE? IS KAYLA HERE? IS KAYLA HERE?” I ask, trying to talk and kiss her cheek at the same time.
Grandma pushes me away. “Get away, Dog!”
It’s sad that some family members don’t like to be kissed by other family members.
“You do recognize me, don’t you, Grandma?” I ask. I’m not sure that she does.
I kiss her hand and
her leg, then turn my backside to her so she can smell me if she wants.
“I said, ‘get away!’” Grandma cries. She waves her hands at me. “Shoo! Bad dog!”
Bad dog? What did I do?
Grandma goes back inside the camper. She doesn’t invite me in. And she doesn’t offer me anything to eat or drink. She just watches me from behind the screen door. “You go away or I’ll call the dogcatcher,” she warns.
The dogcatcher? I gulp.
“You don’t need to call the dogcatcher,” I tell Grandma. “Please, I just want to see Kayla and Dad. Are they in there? I know you know where they are. Can you take me to them?”
The inside door slams shut.
Grandma lifts the shade on the window and peers out at me. Uh-oh. Is that a phone in her hand? Was she serious about calling the dogcatcher?
I’d better get out of here.
But where am I going to go?
9
Answers
I’m not leaving until I find Kayla. Her scent is all over this yard. But I don’t think she’s here now. If she was, she would have heard me calling for her, and she would have come outside.
I sniff for a trail to follow, but none of the trails I pick up seem to go anywhere. They just go in circles around the yard.
Maybe I should try the Network.
“Hello?” I call. “Can anyone hear me? I’m looking for my old human. I know she’s in this town somewhere. Can someone help me find her?”
Nobody answers.
I heard there were dogcatchers in Springtown right after the tornado. A lot of dogs lost their homes in the tornado, so the dogcatchers came and took them to P-O-U-N-Ds in other towns. Did they take all the dogs away? Is that why nobody is answering me?
I may have to find Kayla on my own. But how?
I glance over at that book on the tree stump. Then I remember that big van I passed on my way into town. The one that had pictures of books on it. I wonder if that big van is some sort of library on wheels? I LOVE libraries. So does Kayla. They are our favorite thing! Could Kayla be there?
I pick up the book in my mouth and hurry back to where I saw that van. I have a good feeling about this. A very good feeling.