She confirms the answer and hangs up. Click.
I stare at the phone, numb. Can this really be happening?
No, my head insists. There’s still time. There aren’t enough volunteers to build the dog park. No one will want the last puppy… .
Chapter 24
On Friday, I can hardly concentrate when I take the dogs out. Probabilities cloud my thinking.
What are the chances that Mrs. Kendall will sell the last puppy …
That the dog park will be finished before I have enough money saved …
That Justin will turn Bruno loose again …
The last thing on the list is my biggest worry. Citations haven’t stopped Justin before.
Dogs have a special insight. They can sense your moods. Like when you’re worried. Or nervous. Or scared. Bruno made himself alpha dog because he sensed that Justin was afraid of him. The four little dogs sense my mood today. They’re so nervous, they hardly take their eyes off me. Except Siegfried. He looks behind us a lot.
“Let me know if you see anything, Siegfried.”
He looks up at me, panting. I don’t think it’s from the heat.
The traffic is heavier today, with people getting ready for the weekend. BMWs and Volvo station wagons challenge the speed limit. Some going at least forty. Construction people are busy loading equipment on flatbed trailers, massive machines that weigh tons. I hurry the dogs to the corner lot, hoping they’ll take care of business quickly.
Relieved when the last doggie bag is tied to a belt loop, I hurry the dogs toward home. When we’re a block from Mr. P’s house, I let myself relax. Breathe.
All at once, Siegfried pulls to a stop, looking over his shoulder. Turning, I see Justin a half block behind us, holding Bruno’s leash. The monster dog is hauling him all over the place, wanting to be free.
Not again—
Old feelings break the surface. Anger. Frustration. I want so bad to make Justin pay.
And then it happens.
Justin lands in the dirt, face-first. An anchor too weak to hold Bruno back. He’s a pull toy again.
A disconnected feeling comes over me. Unprompted, words explode out of my mouth.
“Looks like Brownie is taking you for another dirt walk, Justin.”
Justin sits up and wraps the leash around his waist. A human buoy in a sea of dirt. “His name’s Bruno, not Brownie.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, Professor Muller told me that Bruno means brown in German. That’s some fancy name your dog has.” My lips make smooching sounds. My mouth says things like “Heel, Brownie. Sit, Brownie. Good, Brownie.”
Justin struggles to his feet, glaring. Then I see a slow grin spread across his face … hear the sound of Bruno’s leash … unsnapping.
Rats—
“Run, Siegfried!” I pick up Apollo, Buddy, and Baby and take off running, too. A quick look over my shoulder puts wings on my feet. Bruno is bearing down on us like we’re petrified rocks. Fossilized stones. Calcified cartilage.
Fenrir, the monster dog of myth, wants to bite the hand off a warrior. That warrior’s name? Sammy Smith.
Siegfried’s leash rips from my hand, and he races ahead. “Wait for me, Siegfried!” Before I can catch up, Siegfried runs between two cars.
A silver streak passes me, and I make a discovery. I’m not Bruno’s target. Siegfried is.
The thudding sound of the construction truck hitting an object freezes me in my tracks. My heart pounds in my ears. My lungs burn. My legs refuse to move.
The driver jumps out to investigate. Others stop, too. And then Chief Beaumont roars up the street, lights flashing. He hurries over to me.
“I’m sorry. Siegfried pulled the leash out of my hand. I tried to stop him but Bruno was chasing him and—” Tears wash my cheeks.
“Put the dogs in the backseat, Sam.”
He opens the door so I can deposit Apollo, Buddy, and Baby inside. I stumble toward the street to pick up what’s left of little Siegfried. Suddenly, something pushes against my leg.
“Siegfried?” I pick up the little Min Pin and examine him. “Look, Chief, he’s okay. Siegfried’s not hurt. But who—”
“Bruno—Bruno!”
I race back to Chief Beaumont’s car, put Siegfried in the backseat, and run after the chief. At the front of the crowd, I see Justin holding Bruno’s head in his lap. Bruno’s tongue is hanging loose. His legs are limp. Eyes dulled.
“Let him go, son,” Chief Beaumont says to Justin. But Justin won’t move.
“Come on, Justin.” I kneel next to him and try to pull him away, but he won’t let go. “It’s no good. Bruno is …” The word sticks in my throat. “He’s dead, Justin. Bruno is dead.”
“Dead.” Justin’s voice is thick. Oily. “No, he can’t be. Bruno, get up—get up, boy—”
He really loved Bruno… .
Suddenly, a man jerks Justin to his feet. “What happened?”
“It was an accident, Dad. He—he got away from me.”
“Accident?” Chief Beaumont points to the leash in Justin’s hand. “Then why are you carrying that, Justin?”
Justin stares at the empty leash, then spins around and points at me. “It was Sammy’s fault. He—he was teasing Bruno.”
Everyone looks at me, including Chief Beaumont.
“You turned him loose again, didn’t you?” Mr. Wysocki grabs Justin by the shoulder and shoves him toward the street. “Get home, I’ll deal with you later.”
“Ease up, Wysocki. Your son just lost his dog—”
“Which he parked in the basement along with his other toys.” Mr. Wysocki turns to look at Justin. “That’s the last dog you’ll ever have—so don’t come asking me for another one.”
Justin stumbles past me, crying.
“Go home, Sam,” Chief Beaumont says. “That’s it. No more dog-walking. I’ll take the dogs home and see that you get the rest of your pay.”
“But my customers need me.”
“They’ll have to work out something else.” The look on his face says it all. He knows Justin wasn’t lying about the teasing.
I stumble away, too. With every step, the voice in my head repeats over and over,
It wasn’t all Justin’s fault… . It wasn’t all Justin’s fault… . It wasn’t all Justin’s fault… .
One mission occupies my mind as I bike the three miles home from CountryWood. Dropping my bike in the driveway, I race upstairs to my closet. My dog book feels like it weighs fifty pounds as I haul it to the trash can on the street. It’s what started the whole thing. The trash haulers will be by soon. At the end of the day, the scrapbook will be rotting in a landfill.
Right where it belongs.
Chapter 25
Life doesn’t make sense. No matter what happens, people crawl out of bed and go on living. Our place is a madhouse on Saturday. Grandma has gotten worse and Mom has to go talk to the doctor. Beth is getting ready for work. And Rosie is underfoot, as usual.
“Why don’t you go see Bailey? She needs to finish your costumes.”
“All done, and they’re bee-yoo-ti-ful.”
“Yeah, right.”
Though Bailey has lost weight, she still isn’t what I would call skinny. And something tells me getting thinner hasn’t made her a better clothes designer.
It’s after lunch before the house clears out. All last night and this morning, I haven’t been able to stop thinking, If only …
If only Justin hadn’t called me a loser.
If only he’d left me alone.
If only he’d become Bruno’s alpha person.
I close the door to Mom’s office and dial the number I’ve memorized. Numbly, I give Ms. Kendall the news about the puppy.
“I’m so sorry, Sam. As luck would have it, someone came in last night who’s interested in the puppy. But …”
I’m not sure I want to hear what she has to say. Is she going to tell me she’s reconsidered? That she’s decided to do layaway? That she’ll accept a nonref
undable deposit? Now that it’s too late?
“Well, I think it was wonderful that you tried earning the money yourself. And we’ll have a new puppy for you when you do get the money. But …”
That but again.
“Well, next time I expect you to come out and see the puppies. You know, a dog chooses the person as much as the person chooses the dog. We want our puppies to go to the right person.” A pause. “I’ll call the people and tell them the puppy is theirs.” Click.
It’s real. My puppy belongs to someone else.
I can’t eat at supper.
“You coming down with something, Sam?” Mom feels my forehead. “Maybe you caught a chill in that thunderstorm. Your mattress is probably dry enough to bring back inside now. You sleep in the house tonight.”
“Can’t.”
Mom, Beth, and Rosie look at me. “What do you mean?” Mom says.
“I mean, I want to sleep outside.” I get up from the table. “I’m going to go feed Max and Birdie now.”
But when I reach the backyard, I don’t head for the old barn. Instead, I straddle my bike and head down the county road. I ride toward CountryWood but don’t stop there. I push my legs round and round. As my legs spin, the anger builds up inside me. Not at Justin this time. At myself.
Why did I tease him that way? Why didn’t I just ignore him? It’s all my fault.
Words pound in my head like a drum.
Failure.
Washout.
Bust.
Dud.
Loser.
The last word gets stuck.
Loser. Loser. Loser …
I screech to a stop. Legs putty. Shirt soaked. Skin wind-burned. Putting my rage dictionary back on its shelf, I turn my bike for home. My legs are burning by the time I reach CountryWood, but there’s still three miles to go. No choice but to keep pedaling.
It’s almost dark when I put my bike in the garage. At the spigot back of the house, I wash my face with cold water. Drink a gallon as it streams onto the ground. Go to the barn to feed and water Birdie and Max. Birdie’s chicks are growing fast, a couple even putting on pinfeathers. Before long, they’ll be leaving the nest. Max empties his food dish and drains his water bowl. I refill it, watch him empty it again, and listen to him belch.
“Dumb old dog.” I rub his head.
My body feels empty, like some monster leech has sucked the energy out of it. Dropping down on the ground, I lean against the barn. Exhausted. Max drops down beside me, grunting like dogs do when they’re with their owner. Their alpha person.
I push stringy hair away and look into chestnut-brown eyes. He’s here for me. He’s always been here for me. Waiting.
“I’m sorry, Max.”
I know he’s just a dog, but a part of me believes Max understands.
Chapter 26
“Finally, good and dry. At least these hot days were good for something.”
Mom helps me carry my mattress upstairs. A week has gone by since I lost my job, and I’m still sleeping outside. Chief Beaumont mailed the rest of my pay, but I haven’t heard from any of my customers. I wasn’t expecting to, really. Like the chief said, word gets around. They know I had a part in Bruno’s death. I’ve been helping in the plant shed a lot because Mom checks on Grandma every day now. She had to be moved to a place that provides full-time care. I don’t mind. I’m glad to have something to do.
Mom stretches sheets over the mattress and hands me a clean pillowcase. “Change out your pillowcase and you’re all set.” She smiles. “Bet you’re anxious to get back to your own bed.”
“Well, see, I’m going to sleep in the tent awhile longer. But thanks for the clean pillowcase. The other one is smelling pretty doggy.”
Mom frowns. “Do we need to talk about something, Sammy? This isn’t like you. What is it?”
“No, it’s nothing. I, uh, I just like sleeping in the tent.” I get the Mom look. Mouth a straight line. Eyes frozen in a stare. “It’s—it’s just that Beth will be taking the tent with her to Colorado, so this is my last chance.”
“It’s the puppy, isn’t it? I know you had your heart set on buying it this summer.” She blinks. “I still don’t understand why it was so important to buy it now, but—”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. Okay?”
She doesn’t budge. Time for a diversion.
“Gotta get to the kitchen. My turn to help with supper. I’m, uh, I’m making a special dessert I learned from one of my customers at CountryWood.”
“Dessert? But it’s too hot to use the oven.”
“Don’t need to.”
She smiles again. “I can hardly wait.”
I hurry downstairs, hoping what I need is in the pantry and freezer.
Thank you, Mrs. Callahan!
Dessert is a huge hit. I explain that it’s a traditional Irish dessert. Mom says she’s going to keep ice cream and apple jelly around all the time. It’s fun, laughing with Mom, Beth, and Rosie. But then they start talking about the things they’re doing.
Moving to Colorado.
Entering the beauty pageant.
Making a big sale.
I can’t wait to get away. Max greets me at the tent, tongue drooping a foot. Though daytime temperatures have dipped, it’s still hot for late June. I change my pillowcase and crawl inside.
The night is peaceful. Crickets and frogs singing their night songs. Owls swooshing through the trees. Clouds playing tag with the moon. Max snoring.
I breath in deep. Exhale slowly. In time, darkness erases everything on my mental whiteboard.
Sleeping bag a sleeping bag.
Max’s growl jolts me awake. He’s at the door of the tent, trying to push through the mosquito netting. Then I smell it. Musk. The smell of a wild animal.
I grab the flashlight and my ball bat, unzip the door. Max knocks the flashlight and bat out of my hands. In the darkness, I can’t find either one. But I don’t need the flashlight to see what’s happening. In the dim light, eyes are glowing. Lots of eyes.
I identify four sets of eyes surrounding us, four ringed tails shining in the moonlight. The marauding raccoons are back.
Birdie is awake, too. I can hear her in the nest, pushing four cheeping baby birds under her body for protection. Raccoons eat all kinds of things. Roots. Garbage. Pet food. Small mammals. Birds.
“Go away! Get back!” I run back and forth, waving my arms and yelling. Max barks, running at one raccoon, then another. Stopping to catch my breath, I see a huge set of eyes on one side of me, three smaller sets on the other. And then the huge set starts to get bigger. And bigger.
“Aww, man.”
I’ve gotten between the mother raccoon and her babies. A stupid thing to do. A mother raccoon—any animal mother—is very protective of her young.
I run.
The raccoon is huge. Its gigantic shadow chases me, a shadow that’s attached to a ring-tailed ball of claws and teeth. Then a bigger shadow runs it to the ground, a ferocious monster dog. Max snaps at the mother raccoon’s tail until it runs off, the three smaller raccoons racing after it.
And just like that, the night is peaceful again.
“Woohoo!” I yell like a crazy person and do an Indian dance around the yard. “Max the warrior dog to the rescue! He saved us from the evil Fenrir!”
Max jumps around, too. Barking like he’s gone mad.
“Sammy Smith—what is going on out here?” Mom stands at the corner of the barn, hands on hips. Beth is behind her, rubbing her eyes. “That yelling would wake the dead.”
“The raccoons—Max chased off the raccoons.”
“Cool.” Beth raises a high five in my direction. “Going back to bed now… .” She retreats into the shadows.
“That’s good, Sammy.” Mom’s tolerant face makes a showing. Soft. Smiling. “But it’s time you moved back into the house. You’re wrecking my sleep. Now get your pillow and follow me.”
“No.”
“What?” Mom’s angry face emerge
s. A traffic light, blinking red.
“What I mean is, I need to stay awhile longer.” I’m not sure why, I just know I do. “Please, Mom. Just until Birdie’s babies fly. Those raccoons might come back. I … I don’t want to abandon her.”
Mom sags, her exhausted face showing. “I swear, Sammy Smith. I don’t know what’s come over you this summer.” She disappears around the barn, shaking her head.
I look at Max, who’s taken up his post in front of Birdie’s nest. Sitting erect. Shaggy mane encircling his neck. A stone lion.
“You’re a warrior dog, Max.” I pull him close and give him a hug. “A real hero.”
We crawl back inside the tent. The battle won, we stretch out on a bed of goose down. The night erupts again. Frogs and crickets. Night birds. A noisy riot of sound. But Max and I don’t care.
Sleeping bag a victory robe.
Chapter 27
It’s the last Tuesday in June, and I’m sitting on Bailey’s front porch. Minus Rosie. She and Mom went to Walmart to buy shoes for the pageant. Mootsies Tootsies for girls, white patent leather, on sale for $29.99. Plus tax. I was invited to go but declined. Big surprise.
I’m watching the cheer team do a new cheer, one cheerleaders did at the school Anise went to in the burbs.
“Bang bang choo-choo train,
Come on, girls, let’s do this thang.
I can’t. Why not?
I can’t. Why not?
’Cause my back is aching,
And my bra’s too tight,
And my body’s shaking,
From the left to the right,
And my mama said my pants are too tight,
But my boyfriend said they fit just right.”
When they finish, they fall on the ground, a pile of giggles. I shake my head, smothering a grin.
They’re going to get into so much trouble in middle school… .
Bailey doesn’t do the fake fat-girl thing anymore. She’s just a regular girl. But some of her fashion sense has rubbed off on Anise and Yee. They both wear tie-dyed tees now and Converse shoes. Anise’s are Chuck Taylor Thundercats. Yee’s have Wonder Woman on them.
Yee sits down next to me, hair pulled back in a ponytail that swings when she talks. “They’re building the dog park this weekend.”
Immortal Max Page 14