Stick Dog Slurps Spaghetti

by Tom Watson

  There was a sound.

  A rumbling sound.

  It wasn’t one of their stomachs this time.

  It was an engine.

  A big engine.

  They all heard it. And it got closer.

  “Maybe it’s a delivery car,” Poo-Poo said quickly. There was true hope in his voice. “Like the one we snatched the pizza from.”

  “Maybe,” Stick Dog said. “But this engine sounds too big for a car. It sounds more like a truck.”

  “Maybe it’s an ice cream truck!” Karen yelped. “Remember the ice cream truck?”

  Both were things Stick Dog didn’t want his friends to think about right now. That pizza was one of the best things they ever tasted. That ice cream last summer had been scrumptious. And thinking about them would make their hunger even more extreme. He was about to remind Karen that ice cream trucks are only out during the daytime and probably don’t go to restaurants anyway—but he didn’t have to. Because just then the engine sound roared right past the bushes, stopped a few seconds later, and went silent.

  Without a word, all five dogs poked their heads out of the bushes to see what was happening. They saw a huge, burly man step out of a large truck. He walked toward the front door.

  Before the big man got to the door, another man came out from the restaurant. He was dressed in black pants, a white shirt, a bow tie, and shiny black shoes.

  “Look at that huge penguin!” Karen exclaimed. “What’s he doing here? Everybody knows penguins only live at the equator. He must be lost.”

  “That’s not a penguin,” Poo-Poo said. “It’s a human dressed like a penguin.”

  “Oh.”

  “Shh,” Stick Dog said, and shook his head a little. “Let’s listen.”

  “Where do you want the linens tonight, Steven?” the truck driver asked.

  “Better take them to the back door,” the man from the restaurant answered. “We’re too busy tonight to bring anything in the front.”

  The man nodded, pivoted, and returned to his truck.

  Without saying a word, Stick Dog motioned his friends to duck back under the bushes. When they got there, Poo-Poo was the first to speak.

  “Bummer,” he said in a sad voice. “It wasn’t a delivery car.”

  Karen added, “Or an ice cream truck.”

  “You’re right,” Stick Dog said. “It wasn’t a delivery car. Or an ice cream truck.”

  He looked at his friends one at a time, holding his stare for a single second with each of them.

  Then he smiled at them all—and said just one thing.

  “But there is a back door.”

  CHAPTER 8

  BITE, CHOMP, AND CHEW

  Stick Dog poked his head out of the bushes and watched the truck move around the far corner of Tip-Top Spaghetti. The man from inside the restaurant stayed outside for a few minutes. He looked at his cell phone, retied his shoes, and stared up at the sky. It was a beautiful night.

  Karen nudged her nose out from the bush and asked Stick Dog, “What’s taking Penguin Man so long? Doesn’t he know we have to follow the truck?”

  Stick Dog was about to answer but didn’t need to. That’s because right then, the front door opened and someone called, “Steven, table thirteen wants you.”

  The man exhaled slowly and hurried back into Tip-Top Spaghetti.

  “Bye-bye, Penguin Man,” Karen called in a whisper once the man was inside. “I hope you find your way back to the equator!”

  Stick Dog looked down at Karen, smiled at her briefly, and asked, “Can you get the others? It’s time to move.”

  In fifteen seconds, they were on their way to the back door. They moved out to the parking lot behind the first row of cars, which provided excellent cover. Stick Dog didn’t want them to be seen by humans from the big glass window. Darting from behind one parked vehicle to another, they made their way quickly to the corner of the building. There were no windows on this side, so they sprinted unseen.

  From there, they watched the delivery truck pull away down the driveway. There were some empty cardboard boxes across the drive, and the dogs settled in behind them to look at the back of the restaurant. With the boxes and the darkness, Stick Dog thought it was a decent place to hide.

  There was one door at the back. It was illuminated by a single lamp that hung from the wall. A cone of bright light shone down, but the rest of the area was dark. There were no windows, other doors, or anything else at the back of the building. It was simply a long brick wall with one door.

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” Stick Dog said.

  “Sure it is,” Poo-Poo stated with supreme confidence. “I got this.”

  And with that he began to walk toward the door. He appeared absolutely sure of himself as he strode forward.

  “Poo-Poo!” Stick Dog called.

  Poo-Poo stopped about halfway across the driveway and looked back at Stick Dog. “Yes?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to the door,” Poo-Poo explained casually. “The spaghetti is inside there somewhere. Remember?”

  “Yes, I remember,” Stick Dog said slowly. “But what are you going to do at the door?”

  “I’m going to knock on it,” Poo-Poo explained. “I’ve seen humans do it. One human knocks on the door, then another one opens it up from the inside. Simple.”

  “So, umm, you think they’ll just let you in?” asked Stick Dog.

  “No, don’t be silly,” Poo-Poo said. “I have a different idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “When the door opens, I’m going to bite the human right on the knee,” Poo-Poo answered calmly. “While they’re writhing around in pain, I’ll check the place out for some of that tasty spaghetti.”

  Stick Dog had heard enough. “Okay, thanks for explaining. But I’m not sure that’s the best idea. Why don’t you come back here, and we’ll talk about it?”

  Poo-Poo shrugged his shoulders and slowly returned to his friends. He sat down behind a cardboard box and looked at Stick Dog. He waited for further explanation.

  “It’s not very nice to go around biting humans, for one thing,” Stick Dog began. “I mean, I know they’re weird looking and strange and everything. And I know we don’t trust them all that much. But I really don’t believe biting them is the way to go. I also think that if you bite a human, it will scream and bring other humans. We’ll be found out for sure.”

  “What if I don’t bite, per se?” Poo-Poo asked. He seemed to be seeking a compromise.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if I just chomp on them a bit?”

  “Chomp?”

  “Chomp,” confirmed Poo-Poo. “You know; I won’t bite down quite all the way.”

  “No. Still not very nice.”

  “Chew?” asked Poo-Poo. “Could I chew on a human?”

  “Umm, no.”

  “Gnaw? How about a little gnawing action?”

  “No.”

  “Nibble?”

  Stick Dog shook his head. “I don’t think your mouth should come anywhere close to a human.”

  Poo-Poo was silent then for several seconds. Another idea took a little time to form in his mind. Eventually, he figured it out and asked, “What if I just chewed a little piece off but then gave it back?”

  “A little piece of a human’s leg?”

  “That’s right.”

  Stick Dog shook his head. He looked at Karen, Mutt, and Stripes to see if they were listening. He hoped maybe they could help Poo-Poo understand that biting humans was a bad idea. But they were busy. Stripes and Mutt were taking turns putting an empty box on top of Karen and then taking it off again. Karen was giggling.

  Stick Dog turned back to Poo-Poo in an attempt to convince him some more.

  But he didn’t have to.

  Because right then something happened that grabbed all their attention.

  The back door opened.

  CHAPTER 9

  PENELOPE LOVES JOHN
NY

  As soon as that back door cracked open, the dogs ducked and dove behind the empty cardboard boxes across the driveway. Quickly—and safely—concealed there, they peeked out.

  They saw one thing—and smelled another.

  What they saw was a young female human step out through the doorway. She wore black pants and a white button-down shirt. She leaned against the door to keep it open. She looked behind herself as soon as she was outside, jerking her head over her shoulder to see back inside Tip-Top Spaghetti. As soon as she snapped her head around again, she plunged her hand into her pocket, snagged her phone, and began to press buttons furiously.

  When the door opened, Stick Dog and his friends smelled the same aromas—tomato, garlic, oregano—they had smelled before. Only this time it was different.

  Way different.

  Those aromas—those delicious, hearty, mouth-drooling aromas—were stronger, thicker, and more tantalizing than before. Those scents seemed to pour out through that back doorway in great waves of scrumptiousness. They didn’t even need to sniff. The smells washed over them.

  “Stick Dog?” Mutt whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “We have got to get some more spaghetti!”

  “Like, now!” said Stripes.

  “Or even sooner!” added Poo-Poo.

  Karen nodded rapidly in agreement.

  “Okay,” answered Stick Dog. “I’m working on it. Let’s see what this human is doing.”

  The girl had her phone to her ear. She tapped her left foot quickly against the pavement. Then instantly her expression changed from nervousness to absolute delight.

  “Hi, Crystal! It’s Penelope!”

  There was a slight pause and silence, then she spoke again.

  “Guess what? Johnny called me, like, five minutes ago. He left me a voice mail! OMG! I just had to call my BFF!!”

  Another pause.

  “I know, right!? Like, OMG, I’ve only been waiting fifty years for him to call! But I’m totally not into him or anything! Gross. But maybe. I don’t know. YOLO!”

  Then a different human voice—a male voice—yelled out through the doorway.

  “Penelope! Order up! Table seven!”

  In a super-fast whisper, she said, “Oh, I have to go. Call you back ASAP. I’m at work! I snuck out. I’ll call you right back. TBC. I have to deliver some spaghetti to this guy. He’s totally cute! TTYL!”

  The girl pressed a button on her phone, shoved it into her pocket, rushed back inside, and the door swung slowly—very slowly—behind her before closing tightly.

  Stick Dog saw that the door operated with a large sprocket and hinge at the top. It kept the door from slamming shut. It helped the door close slowly, evenly—and securely.

  When the door was closed, Stripes said what all of them were thinking.

  “What a wack-a-doodle! Did you hear how she talked? All those letters! What’s that about? What’s an ‘OMG’?”

  “I don’t know. The letters must stand for something, I guess,” Stick Dog said quickly, and changed the subject. “Did you guys smell that spaghetti when she opened the door?”

  This question did exactly what Stick Dog hoped. Immediately, his friends forgot about what “OMG” might stand for and focused their minds—and stomachs—on those delicious aromas. There was a warmth and heartiness to the smells.

  There was something else too. There was another smell in the air. Stick Dog couldn’t quite put his paws on it. It was a heavier scent. It conjured memories of that day when they ate hamburgers in Picasso Park so long ago.

  He stopped trying to pinpoint that smell—and that flavor. He remembered what that female human had said. He had precious little time.

  “That girl said she’d come back quickly,” Stick Dog said with urgency in his voice. “I have an idea to make that door ajar when she goes back inside the next time.”

  “A jar?” Poo-Poo asked.

  “That’s right, ajar.”

  “What’s going to be in the jar, Stick Dog?” Karen asked.

  “Will there be spaghetti in the jar?” added Stripes.

  “And how exactly do you plan to make the door into a jar?” Mutt asked. “Is there some sort of spaghetti magic trick you have in mind?”

  “No, no. Umm, sorry,” Stick Dog said as calmly as he could as he turned to make sure the door hadn’t opened yet. It hadn’t. “‘Ajar’ just means slightly open.”

  “I get it, I get it,” Poo-Poo said. “You guys just don’t know as many words as Stick Dog and I, that’s all. What Stick Dog is saying is that he’s going to turn the door into a jar with his special spaghetti magic trick—and the lid to the jar will be slightly open so we can eat all the spaghetti inside.”

  “Oh, it all makes sense now,” said Karen.

  Mutt and Stripes nodded their understanding as well.

  “No, umm, that’s not quite it,” said Stick Dog. “Forget the whole jar thing. I have a plan to keep the door—”

  “If we forget the whole jar thing,” Stripes interrupted, suddenly distraught. Then she asked, “Where will we find the spaghetti?! It was going to be inside the jar!”

  “There’s no jar,” Stick Dog said. He was trying to figure out the best way to move things along. “Umm, I don’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry. My fault.”

  “Stick Dog,” Karen said sincerely. “You should really try to get hold of yourself. You seem very confused all of a sudden. You’re getting doors and jars mixed up. You didn’t even know that we reached the top of the hill earlier. And it took you quite a while to grasp the simplicity of my plan before. I mean, climb into the skillet, burn our butts, soar to the top of the hill—pretty easy stuff. Yet you didn’t seem to recognize the simple genius of it all.”

  “You’re right,” Stick Dog said to Karen. He knew he had to hustle. “I’m just a little out of it, I guess. But right now we need to hurry. That girl is—”

  “The one that talks funny?” asked Poo-Poo.

  “The one who’s all lovey-dovey, kissy-face about Johnny?” asked Karen.

  “Don’t be disgusting,” Stripes said.

  “Right, the one that talks funny. Umm, the one who was talking about Johnny,” Stick Dog confirmed. “I think she’s going to come back out any minute to talk on her phone again. When she does, we’ll be ready.”

  This was all Mutt, Karen, Poo-Poo, and Stripes needed to hear. They saw the serious look on Stick Dog’s face; they heard the determination in his voice. They smelled the spaghetti in the air.

  “What are we going to do, Stick Dog?” asked Mutt.

  “You guys hide behind these boxes. When the girl comes out, I want you to knock a couple of them over.” As he gave instructions, Stick Dog stacked two boxes up on two other boxes. “Knock these over. It will make some noise, and she might be startled by it. If she is, she’ll hurry inside. And I’ll run in from the corner of the building—I’ll be watching the whole time. I’m going to put something little in the way so the door won’t shut. It will be ajar. I mean, umm, it will be slightly open.”

  Nobody said a word. They understood their instructions—and they were ready for action.

  “This is our one chance,” Stick Dog said. “If we can keep that door from closing all the way, we’ll have a chance to get in there and snatch some more spaghetti.”

  Karen, Mutt, Stripes, and Poo-Poo nodded their heads. Their eyes narrowed. Their faces were chiseled with a clear sense of purpose.

  “When you see her,” Stick Dog reiterated—he wanted to make certain they understood his instructions—“knock those two boxes down.”

  They dove behind the boxes.

  And Stick Dog sprinted to the corner of the building.

  He peered around that corner and watched the door. In just a couple of minutes, the same girl came back. She pressed some buttons on her phone quickly and jerked the phone up to her ear.

  “Crystal, it’s me! Your BFF!”

  Stick Dog watched the boxes across the drive
way, waiting for them to tumble down.

  “I just listened to Johnny’s voice mail! He was all, like, ‘Do you know the homework for math class? LOL!’”

  There was a pause in the girl’s conversation. Stick Dog waited for the two boxes to fall.

  They didn’t.

  “Math homework! P-lease, girlfriend!” Penelope said, and laughed. “I know he’s not calling for homework! More like he’s totally into me!”

  Stick Dog knew the boxes would fall any minute. He looked down on the ground and found a nice-sized rock. He picked it up with his mouth. It was the perfect thing to drop by the doorframe to keep the door from closing.

  He stretched his legs, readying himself to race along the building as soon as the human ran inside.

  He waited for the boxes to fall.

  They didn’t.

  “Do you think Johnny’s cute? I do! LOL! Do you think I should call him back? Or should I be, like, whatevs?”

  Stick Dog stared at the boxes. There was no movement whatsoever.

  He waited.

  And waited.

  The boxes did not fall.

  As Stick Dog stared, a deeper male human voice came roaring out through the back doorway of Tip-Top Spaghetti. It was the same one they had heard minutes before.

  “Penelope! Order up! Table eight!”

  Stick Dog understood instantly that the girl would go back inside quickly. He moved from the corner of the building. He took several slow steps. It was very dark out, and the girl was standing in that lone cone of light. He didn’t think she would see him as he crept closer. He took one quiet step after another, inching his way to the doorway—and the human.

  “Gotta go, Crystal! Another order! We’re busy tonight! TTYL!” the girl said into her phone, and pressed a button to turn it off.

  Stick Dog stalked closer to her.

  Closer to her.