by Lynn Plourde
No invitations.
And no empty tables.
Finally, I spotted an almost-empty table with two guys who had their noses stuck in books, and I grabbed a seat. The only book I had with me was my math book, so I flipped it open and started reading the chapter assigned for tomorrow.
But I couldn’t concentrate. Our table was so quiet, pieces of conversations from other tables floated by … “that him?” … “such a squirt” … “from Portland” … and laughter. Lots of laughter from every direction. Were they laughing at me? I didn’t dare to look. But I could feel their stares like X-ray vision cutting right through me.
“So short” … “Daddy’s boy” … “Tiny Tim” …
Did someone really say Tiny Tim? Did kids already know who I was? I’d always heard there was no keeping secrets from middle schoolers.
Since they were onto me, I wondered whether I should escape from lunch early or wait until the last possible second to avoid them all. Leaving early meant hanging in the hall where the angry boys hung out, so I decided to stay late. Almost everyone was gone when the bell rang and now I had to hurry to history class.
But as I left the cafeteria …
“HEY, MINNY! HEY, KEVIN!”
The Jerk. Of course, the Jerk. The last person I wanted to see.
But who was Kevin? I looked behind me and gulp! There was another bruiser—almost as big as Rory. Man, what do they put in the water up here in Skenago? Whatever it is, I’d better start drinking it—gallons of it.
“Wanna join me for lunch, guys?” asked Rory.
BURRRRRRRP! Kevin belched so loud I swear the cafeteria floor shook as if he’d triggered an earthquake.
Rory fist-bumped Kevin to congratulate him on his burp and said, “Oh yeah, I forgot you still have the early lunch this year.”
“I already ate too,” I said.
“That’s right,” Rory snorted. “You eat with the little kids.”
I felt steam coming out of my ears, like an angry cartoon character. I stretched my neck as tall as it would go—to get right in the Jerk’s face (I made it to his lowest rib) and said, “At least I didn’t get sent to the office before the first day of school even started.” I felt like adding, “Take that!” But Rory snorted again and high-fived that Kevin guy. He wasn’t embarrassed about being sent to Dad’s office—he was proud of it.
Then Kevin let out another ground-shaking burp and smiled.
“Get a bib,” I suggested before stomping away.
I went to history class, but really only my body went. My mind was already home, with Maxi. That’s how I was going to make it through the day. I kept telling myself, “Can’t wait to see you, girl. Can’t wait to see you, girl. Can’t wait …” It didn’t matter that Maxi couldn’t hear me. It only mattered that I could hear it. I kept my Maxi message playing in my head the rest of the day until Mom picked me up after school and brought me home.
Seems Maxi couldn’t wait to see me either. When I let her out of her crate, she went crazy. She jumped up, knocked me to the floor, and smothered me with kisses—all over, sticking her tongue up my nostrils, in my ears. She even licked inside my belly button. It was like she was trying to kiss me on the inside, where I needed it the most.
• • •
SECRET #11
There’s nothing so bad in the world that dog kisses won’t make it better.
CHAPTER 12
WAS IT TOO LATE to add an extra class—How to Open a Locker for Dummies?
22 right, 18 left, 9 right … nothing.
22 right, 18 left, 9 right … still nothing!
The second day of school wasn’t going to be any better than the first.
22 right, 18 left, 9 right … click—OPEN!
Maybe it would be better after all. I looked right to see if magic-touch boy was watching me. He wasn’t, but I lingered with the door open in case he or anyone else walked by and wanted to admire my nimble-finger locker success.
BUMP!
BANG!
“DANG!” Maybe I was better off not opening my locker! Now I’d been shoved inside it. But before I could figure a way out, I heard a commotion …
“Let him out.”
“Pick on somebody your own size, you big oaf.”
“Anybody know the combination?”
I heard jostling and jimmying and spinning and …
OPEN!
There stood magic-touch boy. “You’re welcome. Don’t worry—now I’ll make myself disappear.” He walked off. Can’t say I blamed him.
The Jerk wasn’t anywhere in sight now, but I knew he was to blame. That chicken ran off, but wait till I had a chance to get even. I’d … I’d … bite him in the ankles!
“Are you all right?” Someone from behind patted me on the head.
Not again! I turned. It was student-council girl.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” She leaned down in my face.
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll report this.”
Her friends all nodded.
“Please don’t. I’m okay. It’s no big deal.”
“Yes, it is a big deal. We strive to make our school safe for everyone.”
I fake smiled again. I knew what she meant. Everyone = shrimp like me. The only thing worse than getting shoved into a locker because I’m so small I fit was getting let out of a locker because I’m so small everyone pitied me. There’s nothing worse than being the guest of honor at a pity party.
Student-council girl and her friends stood in a semicircle around me with their best pouty, sympathetic looks. I stepped away before they all started patting me on the head.
“Don’t worry. I’m okay. And please don’t report this. You see, I … I … I was actually giving that big oaf a hard time before he shoved me into my locker. I had it coming.”
“Really?” Student-council girl looked skeptical.
“Yup, I know I wasn’t playing fair—that you should pick on someone your own size.” Then I winked.
Everyone burst out laughing.
Just what I was hoping for. “See you around,” I said as I started to walk off.
“Wait. What’s your name?” asked student-council girl.
“Timminy.”
“See you around, Timminy.”
“And your name?” I asked.
“Kassy, with a K.”
“’Kay, Kassy with a K, see you around.”
Then Kassy with a K winked at me!
Maybe she still had a chance to earn my vote for prez—if only she’d stop patting me.
When I went into homeroom, I said thanks to magic-touch boy.
Then Ms. Sanborn made me stay after the bell rang for first period.
“Timminy, since you come to school so early with your dad—”
“With Mr. Harris,” I said.
“Yes, Mr. Harris.” She grinned. “Feel free to come into homeroom early. You can do your homework, but fair warning … I might ask you to help me with some of my work too.”
“’Kay. Thanks,” I said as I smiled a real smile. I wasn’t sure if Ms. Sanborn had seen the whole shut-in-my-locker fiasco. But even if she did, I had to give her credit for not mentioning it, for giving me the best pass—a chance to avoid one of the in-between parts of school. Would I go to her homeroom early? Heck, yeah! Even if she offered ’cause she pitied me? Oh, heck, yeah!
• • •
SECRET #12
The combination to unlock middle school survival is one big mystery.
CHAPTER 13
SOMEHOW I SURVIVED the first week of school—which was only three whole days. (Maybe starting school the Wednesday before Labor Day wasn’t such a bad idea after all!)
And I didn’t spend any more time inside lockers—thanks to Ms. Sanborn letting me kill time in her room before school.
I did get passed like a hot potato between those big boys in the hall after school on Friday, but they all put on their innocent faces and d
isappeared when my dad stepped around the corner.
Dad looked suspicious and asked, “You okay, Timminy?”
“I’m great, Mr. Harris.”
And I was great—now that it was finally the long weekend and it was going to be all Maxi all the time!
My plan for Labor Day weekend was no plans. Mom and Dad agreed since they were tired after their first week of working with kids. Plus it was supposed to be blistering hot for late summer. Doing nothing in the house with the AC blasting sounded perfect. Maxi and I could watch movies and play computer games.
But my no-plans plan changed when the FedEx truck backed up the driveway Saturday morning. I’d taken Maxi out to do her business, but she’d gotten distracted by a stick.
Beep-beep-beep!
“Stop! Stop!” I yelled, trying to catch the driver’s eye in his side or rearview mirror. I stepped in back of his truck, waved my arms wildly, and hollered louder, “STOP!”
He did stop and jumped out with his face all in a pucker. “Hey, kid, you’re too short to step behind a truck that’s backing up. I almost didn’t see you. Are you crazy?”
I puckered up my own face and pointed at Maxi lying in the driveway behind me. “If you couldn’t see me, then did you see her?”
The driver answered. “No, but she would have moved with my back-up signal.”
“No, she wouldn’t. She’s deaf.”
“Really? A deaf puppy?”
“Yup.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know. I’ve always backed up to this house from the turnaround spot in the driveway, but I won’t do that any—”
Before the driver could finish, Maxi saw him, ran over, and jumped up on him with her front paws.
“Down, Maxi, down,” I said.
The driver laughed. “She can’t hear you. Remember? I don’t mind. I love dogs.”
Then he held his palm up in front of her face as a signal to stay. She did! He got in his truck and came out with a package in one hand and his other hand closed in a fist.
“Lynda Harris live here?” he asked.
“Yup, that’s my mom.”
“This is for her.” He passed me the package.
Then he looked down at Maxi, who was staring at his closed hand. “And this is for you.” He waved his fist in front of Maxi’s nose. “Sit!” he commanded while pushing down on her butt with his other hand. He paused and when she held the sit position for a second, he opened his hand to give her the doggie treat. “Good dog.”
“Thanks, mister,” I said. For the first time, I realized that just because Maxi was deaf, it didn’t mean she couldn’t learn to follow directions.
“Now stand back, you two. I don’t need any more close calls. And I promise to keep an eye out for this precious pup the next time I have a package to deliver.”
“Thanks again,” I said, holding Maxi back by her collar.
As he turned toward his truck, he said, “What are the odds? Deaf here and blind next door.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Really,” he said. “See you around.”
He jumped into his truck and drove off.
I leaned down and kissed Maxi on her snout. “Maybe it’s time we go meet our neighbors, girl.”
• • •
SECRET #13
Sometimes when you least expect it, hope wiggles into your heart.
CHAPTER 14
I RACED INSIDE to let Dad know Maxi and I were going for a walk. “We’ll be back soon,” I hollered.
Dad stood at the bottom of the cellar stairs with his hands on his hips. “I thought you were going to help me unpack these last few boxes. Then we’re free to take the rest of the weekend off.”
“I will when I get back, Dad. It’s just Maxi’s been cooped up in her crate so much this week with school starting. I think she needs some exercise.”
“All right. Where are you going?”
“Not far. We’ll stay in the neighborhood.”
“Hang on tight to her. Cars drive pretty fast along these rural roads. You’ll have to be her ears.”
“I’ve already figured that out, Dad. Be back soon.”
• • •
All the houses in our neighborhood were set back from the road with long driveways and lots of property. As Dad said, one reason to live out in the country is not to see your neighbors. What a change from Portland!
I certainly did not want to see Rory the Jerk. I didn’t know which house was his, but it probably was nearby. I also didn’t know which neighbor the FedEx driver was talking about when he said “blind next door.” I wasn’t sure why I was so excited about having a blind dog next door. Maybe because we wouldn’t be the only ones in the neighborhood who were different.
We headed left at the bottom of our driveway and started up the next driveway. I walked beside Maxi with one hand on her leash and the other on her back to keep her calm if we saw the other dog.
Suddenly I heard shouting.
“I’LL BE BACK, DAD. GONNA SEE WHAT I SHOT.”
Oh no! I recognized that voice. The Jerk! I heard his four-wheeler start up.
“Come on, Maxi. Let’s get outta here before he shoots us!” It sounded like Rory was heading into the woods, not toward the road. But I couldn’t be sure, so I ran back toward our driveway. The blind dog must be our neighbor on the other side. And now at least we knew where the Jerk lived. Too close!
The next driveway led us up a big hill to a gray house with red shutters and a white picket fence boxing in one side of the yard. No one was out front, so we made our way to the side. A fence was a perfect way to keep a blind dog safe. Heck, maybe we should get one to keep our deaf dog safe.
I peered over the fence and Maxi started sniffing between the slats.
First, I saw a pool. A pool! This was one neighbor I wanted to get friendly with fast! Like before-the-end-of-this-hot-weekend fast!
Then I saw a girl in a lounge chair.
But I didn’t see a dog anywhere.
Woof! Woof! Suddenly Maxi barked.
“Who’s there?” yelled the girl.
“It’s me, your new neighbor, and my dog, Maxi.”
“Oh, I heard someone had moved into the Gillespies’ house. So your dog has a name. Do you?”
“Yes, I’m Timminy.”
“Hi, I’m Abby. Come on in. The gate’s on the back side of the fence.”
“Thanks.” I tugged Maxi toward the gate, stepped inside, and walked up behind her lounge chair. I kept talking. “Abby, you’re not going to believe this. Maxi is deaf. What are the odds? My dog is deaf and your dog is blind. How funny is that?”
As I stepped in front of Abby, I almost tripped on the cane leaning against her chair. And then I saw her eyes—smaller, sunken, different.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” asked Abby.
“You’re blind. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault. I was born blind.”
“I know it’s not my fault you’re blind. But it’s my fault I assumed your dog was blind.”
“I don’t have a dog,” said Abby. “And if I did, I don’t think a blind dog would be a good match for me.”
“No, of course not,” I kept blubbering. “The blind shouldn’t lead the blind. Oh crap! That’s not what I meant to say. What I meant is … No, no, NO, MAXI!”
Maxi’s leash had slipped out of my hand and now she had her paws up on Abby’s shoulders.
“Down, Maxi, down! Oh no, I’m sorry. Down, down, down!”
“Shush up!” said Abby. “And don’t move.”
I froze and held my breath as Maxi sniffed at Abby’s eyes. Then Abby closed them and Maxi gently licked each eye, one after the other.
Abby smiled. “Maxi? Is that a girl or a boy name?”
I wasn’t sure if I was still under shush-up orders, but I said, “It’s short for Maxine. My dad named her. I saved her with the nickname Maxi. And Timminy is a boy name.”
“I fi
gured that out. I’m blind, not stupid,” Abby said.
“Sorry.”
“Oooooh! If you say sorry, one more time, I’m kicking you out.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s it!” yelled Abby. “Get out of here, but Maxi can stay.”
On cue, Maxi lay down next to Abby’s chair and nudged her hand to make sure she got some pats.
“Fine,” I said and turned to go. Then stopped. “Are you crazy? I’m not leaving Maxi here. She’s the one who sniffed and lapped your eyes. You should be mad at her. Not me.”
Abby laughed. “That’s better. You can stay.” She gestured toward the empty lounge chair beside her.
“No. I’ll go. Come on, Maxi.” I tugged on her collar, but she didn’t move.
Abby laughed harder.
I took the bait. “What’s so funny?”
“You keep talking to Maxi and she can’t hear you.”
“I forget. We found out last week, so I’m still getting used to it. But I think I’ll always talk to her. That’s one of the reasons to have a dog, for the company.”
“Wish I had a dog.”
I finally sat down. “I thought blind people got Seeing Eye dogs.”
Abby sighed. “Blind grown-ups can get guide dogs—that’s what we call them—but not kids. I’m stuck with this cane. It’s not the best company,” she said. “You have to be sixteen to get a dog. I have almost four more years to wait, actually three years, seven months, and fourteen days, but who’s counting?”
“That’s not fair,” I said.
“Tell me about not fair,” said Abby.
All I could see were her eyes again and I couldn’t help it, I said, “Sorry.” ’Cause I was.
“There you go again. Cut it out. If you’re gonna feel sorry for me, you can move back to wherever you came from.”
“Portland,” I said.
“Good, that’s far enough away so you won’t bug me. I don’t need your sympathy. I find that everywhere I go. I know everyone stares at me. I hear their whispers, ‘She’s blind. Poor girl. How awful.’”
“That stinks,” I said. When she didn’t say anything, I added, “But not as much as Maxi stinks!”