“Um, I don’t think so,” Luanne said.
“How come?”
Luanne fiddled with the buttons on her shirt. “I got some stuff to do,” she said.
“Like what?”
She shrugged. “Just some stuff with Mama.”
I twirled my spaghetti around and around on my fork and listened to the girls at our table going on and on about some movie they’d all seen. Then Luanne piped in and said how she had just loved that movie, too. I kept on twirling my spaghetti and feeling more and more like I didn’t want to be there at that lunch table. I wanted to float right up through the ceiling and out into the blue sky. I didn’t belong there with those girls. I hadn’t seen that movie. I couldn’t buy those bracelets they all wore. They had been over at the mall while I’d been washing my underwear in the bathroom sink at Walgreens.
So I just sat there twirling and thinking about Willy.
After school, me and Toby walked over to the Town Hall.
“I’m not going down there,” I told him, nodding toward the basement window. “You can if you want to, but I’m not.” The sound of kids playing and balls bouncing drifted out of the open window.
Toby shook his head. “Then I’m not going neither,” he said.
I tossed my backpack on a nearby bench. “We’ve got to find some string or something,” I said to Toby.
“What for?”
“For Willy. Remember?”
“Oh.”
So we walked up and down the street, looking in gutters and Dumpsters and trash cans. I was just about to give up when Toby hollered, “Here’s some, Georgina!”
I ran over to the curb where Toby was holding a stack of newspapers tied with heavy string.
“Yes!” I pumped my fist and high-fived Toby. “Good job!” Toby looked just pleased as punch. I untied the string and stuffed it into my pocket. “Let’s go back and wait for Mama,” I said.
It was nearly dark by the time we saw our car come sputtering up the street toward the Town Hall, leaving a trail of black smoke behind it.
“Sorry, y’all,” Mama said when we climbed in the backseat.
“We’re starving,” Toby said.
“I know, sweetheart,” Mama said. “I brought y’all some chicken.”
Toby dug through the bag in the front seat and pulled out a piece of greasy fried chicken.
“I got a job,” Mama said.
I took a piece of chicken and pulled the soggy skin off. “Where?” I said, dropping the chicken skin back into the bag.
“The coffee shop over by the hardware store.” She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. I wondered if she saw the same tired and worried face that I did.
“Well, that’s good,” I said.
She took a swig out of a soda can. “I guess so,” she said, then pulled the car to the side of the road and stopped.
“What’s the matter?” I said.
She shook her head. “I’m just so dern tired of all this,” she said.
My stomach clumped up in a knot, and I wished I hadn’t eaten that chicken. Why was Mama acting so sad? I needed her to act like everything was okay.
Nobody said anything after that. We just sat there in that car that was our home. Crammed in with all of our stuff. The smell of the greasy fried chicken hovered in the still air around us.
Mama broke the silence when she slapped her hands on the steering wheel and said, “Anyway, so now I’ll be at work when y’all get out of school. So come on over to the coffee shop and wait in the car, okay?”
I ran my dog-stealing plans around inside my head. This would be perfect. The coffee shop wasn’t far from Whitmore Road. I could grab Willy, hide him on the porch of the old house, and then get on back to the car, no problem. Mama wouldn’t even know if me and Toby were there or not.
That night, I fingered the string in my pocket and watched Mama helping Toby with his homework. They huddled together in the front seat with the flashlight propped up on the dashboard. Shadows danced around on the ceiling as they worked.
I pulled out my notebook and turned to How to Steal a Dog. I wrote April 14, then, beside that:
Step 4: Use this list to make sure you are ready to steal a dog.
1. Are you sure you have found the right dog? Yes ___ No ___
2. Can you open the gate? Yes ___ No ___
3. Do you have some rope or string? Yes ___ No ___
4. Do you have a good place to keep the dog? Yes ___ No ___
I read through each one and put a checkmark beside Yes every time.
After the list, I wrote: If you can check “yes” for every one, then you are ready to steal a dog.
I thumped the pencil eraser against my teeth, then I added:
P.S. Remember that you have to wait until nobody is home at the house where the dog lives.
P.P.S. Don’t forget to take your string, rope, or leash.
I closed my notebook and pushed it back down inside my trash bag. And when my guilty conscience started hollering at me, telling me I was doing the wrong thing, I pushed that down, too.
There was no doubt about it. I really, really was going to steal a dog.
10
“Shhhh.” I put my finger to my lips and motioned for Toby to stay behind me. We tiptoed along the hedge in front of the big brick house. When we got to the gate, I scanned the street, then whispered to Toby.
“You be the lookout. If anybody comes outside or a car comes or anything, you whistle like I showed you this morning, okay?”
Toby nodded.
I peered over the gate. The front door of the house was closed. I glanced toward the driveway. No car. The yard was empty and quiet.
“Here, Willy,” I called out real soft. Nothing. Maybe he was inside. I wondered if I should go on up to the porch. Probably not. If somebody was home, they were liable to see me.
“Maybe you should whistle,” Toby whispered.
“Okay.” I whistled one time and waited. Sure enough, Willy stuck his head out of that little doggie door. When he saw me, he dashed out the door and up to the gate.
“Hey, Willy,” I whispered, sticking my hand through the gate to pet him.
He stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on the gate. His tail wagged so hard his whole body wiggled. He licked my hand like it was a T-bone steak.
“You wanna come with us?” I said.
He cocked his head and peered up at me. And then, I swear, he nodded his head. If he could’ve talked, I was sure he would’ve said, “Heck, yeah, I wanna come with you.”
So, quick as I could, I lifted the latch on the gate and opened it just enough to reach my arm in. My heart was pounding so hard all I could hear was the thump, thump, thump in my ears. I knew I had to keep myself moving or else I was liable to start thinking. And if I started thinking, I was liable to think I shouldn’t be doing this. So I turned my mind to “off” and grabbed Willy’s collar. I pulled him through the gate and out onto the sidewalk. He kept wagging his tail and looking at me with his shiny black eyes. I took the string out of my pocket and tied it to his flea collar.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said to Toby, and took off running.
I ran down Whitmore Road, around the corner, and into the woods. Willy ran along beside me. Every now and then he leaped up on me or nipped at my heels like this was the most fun game he’d ever played. Once in a while he’d let out a little yip.
When we were far enough into the woods that I was sure no one could see us from the road, I stopped to catch my breath. I put my hand on my pounding heart and leaned against a tree. Toby ran up and stopped beside me.
“We did it!” he hollered.
“Shhhh.” I clamped my hand over his mouth. “Somebody might hear us. You got to be really quiet.”
Willy sat in front of us with his tongue hanging out, panting. His tail wagged on the ground. Swish, swish, swish.
I knelt down and ran my hand along his back. He closed his eyes and leaned against me.
�
��It’s okay, fella,” I said. “Don’t be scared. Me and Toby are nice.”
He scratched behind his ear with his hind leg, making the tag on his collar jingle.
“What do we do now?” Toby said.
“We take him over to that house and tie him up on the porch.”
“What if he don’t like it there?”
“He’s just gonna be there for a little while,” I said. “As soon as his owner puts up the reward sign, we’ll take him back home.”
“Oh.” Toby knelt and rubbed the top of Willy’s head. “What if his owner don’t put up a reward sign?”
I flapped my hand at Toby. “Trust me. That lady is gonna want him back more than anything. She’s probably making a reward sign right now.”
I made my voice sound calm and sure, but a funny little feeling was tapping at my insides. A feeling like maybe I had done a real bad thing. I took a deep breath, trying to swallow that feeling down and keep it from growing.
I unbuckled Willy’s green collar and tossed it into the bushes. Tap, tap. There was that feeling again. Tapping at my insides like it was trying to tell me something.
“What’d you do that for?” Toby said.
I rolled my eyes. “Think about it, Toby.”
Toby’s eyebrows squeezed together and he bit his lip. “’Cause he don’t need it anymore?” he said.
I sighed. “No, dum-bo. Because we can’t take him back to his owner with his collar on or else she’d wonder how come we didn’t call her. Her phone number’s right there on the tag.”
“Oh.” Toby nodded, but he still looked confused. I swear sometimes he is dumber than dirt.
“Come on.” I motioned for Toby to follow me. We made our way through the woods behind the houses on Whitmore Road. I could hear the cars on the highway up ahead, so I was pretty sure we were going in the right direction.
Willy trotted along beside me happy as anything. Every now and then, he stopped to sniff the ground or root through the rotting leaves. Once, he stopped to dig, sending dirt and leaves and twigs flying out behind him and making me and Toby laugh. He sure was a funny dog.
When we got to the highway, I stooped down behind the bushes along the edge.
I handed the string leash to Toby. “Here,” I said. “Hold this while I see if any cars are coming.”
I checked in both directions. No cars. I went back to where Toby sat with his arm around Willy.
“Okay, now listen,” I said. “We got to run across the highway, then through that vacant lot over there. I’m pretty sure we can cut through those woods to get to that old house.”
He nodded.
I took the string from him and dashed across the highway with Willy leaping along beside me. We kept running until we made it to the edge of the gravel road leading to the old house. The whole time, Willy pranced and yipped and jumped up on me. Once in a while, he grabbed the string in his mouth and gave it a tug.
When we got to the house, Willy perked his ears up and watched me.
“We’re here, fella,” I said, scratching the top of his head.
He looked at that run-down, boarded-up house and then back at me. I had a feeling I knew what he was thinking.
“It’s okay, Willy,” I said. “You won’t be here long. I promise.”
He cocked his head in that cute way of his. I don’t know how he did it, but that little dog could make you love him just by looking at him. I sat down in the dusty road and put my arm around him. He crawled right into my lap and licked my face. His licks weren’t all slobbery like most dogs’.
“It’s spooky here,” Toby said in that whiny voice of his. I knew if I didn’t do something fast, he was liable to turn into his baby self and start crying or something.
“You hold Willy and I’ll make a path to the back porch,” I said.
I pushed through the sticker bushes and vines, mashing them down and breaking off branches till there was a clear path to the back of the house. It was dark and damp back there. You couldn’t even see the sky through the overgrown trees.
The tiny porch leaned slightly, like any minute it was going to fall right off the back of the house. The steps leading up to it were loose and rotten. One of them was broken all the way through. The screen door dangled by one hinge.
“Come on,” I called to Toby.
He and Willy came around the corner of the house and stopped.
“No way, Georgina,” Toby said. “We can’t put Willy in there.”
“Listen, Toby,” I said. “This is the best place. Nobody’ ll see him. And he won’t get wet if it rains. And besides, he won’t be here long.” I watched Toby’s face, but he didn’t look convinced. “And we’ll come and stay with him after school and all,” I added.
Toby swiped at the tears that had started. “You’re mean,” he said.
Dern. Why’d he have to go and say that? I sure didn’t want to hear it—’cause that was exactly how I was feeling. Mean.
“Toby, listen.” I put both hands on his shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “Aren’t you tired of living in the car?”
He hung his head and nodded a tiny little bit.
“Don’t you want to have a real place to live? With walls and beds and a bathroom and all?”
He nodded again.
“Then we need to help Mama get some money,” I said. “And this is the only thing I can think of. Can you think of another way?”
I bent down and tried to look him in the eye again, but his head was hanging too low. All I could see was his long, dirty hair all tangled up and ratty-looking.
“Then we got to do this,” I said. “We’ll take good care of Willy, and we’ll take him right back home just as soon as we can, and then we’ll get the reward money and everything will be good.” I jiggled Toby’s shoulders. “Okay?” I added.
I knew Toby didn’t believe me ’cause I wasn’t sure I believed myself. That old tapping feeling was getting bigger, and in my head I was thinking maybe I was messing up. And I was starting to think how I wished I could go back in time to the hour before or the day before or the week before. But I knew I couldn’t do that. I was there behind that awful old house with that cute little dog looking at me, and I knew it was up to me to make everything turn out good like I had planned.
I took the string leash from Toby and led Willy up the creaky steps to the porch.
“This isn’t so bad,” I called out to Toby.
The top half of the porch had been screened in once, but now what was left of the rusty old screen hung in tatters. Leaves and pine needles had blown in and covered the floor, settling in the corners in damp, moldy piles.
I pushed some of the wet leaves aside, trying to make a clean spot. Then I knelt down and took Willy’s head in both my hands.
“Don’t be scared, okay?” I said. “We’ll be back real soon and everything will be fine.” Then I rubbed my nose back and forth against his. An Eskimo kiss.
Willy rested his chin in my hands and gazed up at me like he believed every word I said.
“What if he gets hungry?” Toby called from the bottom of the steps.
Hungry? I hadn’t even thought about that! I couldn’t believe Toby was thinking up something else I had left out of my How to Steal a Dog notes.
“I said, what if he gets hungry?” Toby called out.
“I’ve got that all worked out,” I lied. My mind raced, trying to think of how I was going to feed Willy. And what if I couldn’t get back here every day? How long could a dog go without food?
“And water,” Toby said. “Dogs need water, you know. He might die if he don’t have water.”
“Shut up, Toby.” That’s all I could think of to say, and it did the trick. He shut up. But it didn’t help me feel any better.
I tied the string to the doorknob and said goodbye to Willy. Then I led the way back through the weeds and briar bushes toward the road.
I was glad Toby was quiet as we walked, ’cause I had a lot of thinking to do. About food an
d water for Willy. About what I’d done. About what to do next. But it was hard to get my thoughts all straightened out with my insides kicking up like they were. That tapping feeling was turning into full-out banging.
11
“Hey, y’all,” Mama called as she made her way across the parking lot toward the car.”Look what I got.”
She stuck a Styrofoam box through the window. “Check this out,” she said.
I opened the box. Scrambled eggs and pancakes. They sure did smell good.
“And that’s not all,” she said, tossing a paper bag onto the backseat.
Toby snatched the bag up and peered inside, then let out a whoop. “Doughnuts!” he hollered. He grabbed a powdery white doughnut and started eating it so fast he choked, coughing out a spray of powder and crumbs.
“Eeeyew,” I said, wiping off my jeans.
Mama slid behind the steering wheel and examined herself in the mirror. “This job is gonna be great,” she said, licking a finger and smoothing an eyebrow. “The tips are really good and I get to bring home all kinds of food.”
Food? Talk about good luck! Now we wouldn’t have to worry about feeding Willy. I poked Toby and gave him a thumbs-up. His eyebrows shot up and he mouthed “What?” at me.
I flapped my hand at him to signal never mind, but he wouldn’t be quiet. He kept whispering, “What?”
I shook my head and pulled an invisible zipper across my lips, which meant “Hush up, I can’t tell you in front of Mama,” but he was too dumb to figure that out.
“What?” he said a little louder.
“What’d you say?” Mama said.
I pressed my foot on top of Toby’s and smiled at Mama in the rearview mirror. “Nothing,” I said.
I settled back and ate some pancakes, which sure did taste good even though they were all soggy with syrup. When I finished, I took out my notebook and wrote: Save some doughnuts for Willy. I pushed the notebook across the seat and poked Toby.
How to Steal a Dog Page 5