by Lynn Plourde
Finally! I spotted Abby—at the corner table near the door.
Laughing.
Chitchatting.
Popular!
My stomach went all topsy-turvy.
Should I go over to her or not? What if she ignored me?
Wait a minute! I knew someone she couldn’t ignore …
Maxi!
Abby really liked Maxi—even if she got angry with me. I just needed to find the right Maxi story to tell her. I’d already told her the Maxi-stinks-big-time story. So maybe the Maxi’s-vet-appointment-when-we-found-out-she-was-deaf story or the Maxi-chased-the-squirrel-in-circles-and-Roary-roared-by story. Sympathy or drama? Hmm …
I finally worked up my courage to go tell Abby the sympathy story. I practiced what I’d say in my head as I inched my way to her corner table. But as I was about to call Abby’s name, the kids at her table burst out laughing …
“Not again!”
“What a riot!”
“Sounds like back in kindergarten when we …”
I turned away as fast as I could. I didn’t want to hear about their kindergarten adventures. When you’re new to a school, you don’t share a kindergarten history with anyone.
I raced back toward the reading nerd table, and—
BUMP!
I ran into someone, a big someone.
“Watch where you’re going, pipsqueak.”
“Looking for the squirt table, squirt?”
“We can escort you.”
One of the boys I’d dodged in the hall my first day started to pick me up like a baby in his arms. It took all my strength to squirm away from him and race back to the readers’ table. Phew! A teacher on duty stood nearby so those big oafs didn’t follow me.
The reading nerds didn’t even look up as I sat back down. I was as invisible as a ghost sitting there.
I couldn’t bear to read any more math so instead I read the ingredients on my apple juice bottle … water, apple juice concentrate, ascorbic acid. I kept my head down and pretended to keep reading. What I really wanted was to squeeze myself small enough to fit into that bottle so no one could see me, and then be thrown out with rest of the lunch trash.
• • •
SECRET #17
Sometimes you have to throw yourself a pity party.
CHAPTER 18
TWO DAYS LATER, it was Maxi who needed the pity party.
I’d taken her out at dusk to run around a bit before bedtime. She did her business, and then kept walking back and forth on the lawn next to the woods. I figured she was protecting us from wolves, but it wasn’t wolves I should have been worried about.
I went to get the shovel from the garage to scoop up her poop, and when I returned, I squinted to see Maxi. It was getting dark, but since she’s a big white blob, I was able to spot her on the far side of the lawn.
I hollered, “Maxi, come, girl!”
When would I stop talking to my deaf dog? She may be the deaf one, but I was the dumb one. I laughed at myself and walked to fetch her and bring her inside for the night.
But she had started to bark and run after something moving by the edge of the woods.
“No, girl, no! Come back!” I ran too. What was that small, dark blob? I didn’t see any white on it, so—phew—not a skunk, I hoped.
Maxi was closing in. The small blackish ball was waddling so, so slowly, and something was sticking up. My brain put it all together …
A PORCUPINE!
I ran faster and yelled, “STOP, MAXI, STOP!” Then I stopped. She couldn’t hear me.
So instead, I shouted, “GO, PORCUPINE, GO!” Figured that made as much sense. Maybe the porcupine was deaf too ’cause he, she, it didn’t hear me either. In fact, it stopped moving and simply did what porcupines do.
Bristled its back and …
HOWL! Poor Maxi had been quilled!
“Maxi, oh, Maxi!” The porcupine moseyed off while Maxi howled and shoved her face into the ground trying to get the quills out. When that didn’t work, she tried to dig them off her snout with her paws.
“DAD! MOM! IT’S MAXI!” I don’t know what was louder: Maxi’s howling or my screaming. We were both so loud I didn’t hear the racket in the woods until—
CRASH!
Something burst out of the woods! I screamed louder—maybe it was a giant mama porcupine coming to quill both of us!
Then I heard, “Oh, you poor puppy.” It was Rory! He reached down and scooped up Maxi, who was still clawing at her face.
“Minny, run and have your dad get the car ready. I’ll carry your Little Beast out to him.”
“Put Maxi down!” I yelled. “We gotta get those quills out of her.” I reached up to try to yank out the quills. But when I did, Rory blocked me with his arm.
“Stop it, you Jerk!” I told him. “She’s my dog. Let me help her.” I reached up again to pluck a quill.
This time Rory didn’t block me. Instead he picked me up around the waist and carried me on one hip and Maxi on the other.
“Put me down, Jerk, put me down!” I screamed and tried to hit Rory without hitting Maxi. But he kept carrying both of us. We turned the corner at the front of the garage, and there were my parents all in a panic.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why were you screaming?”
“Are you hurt, Timminy?”
“Is Maxi hurt?”
“What did you do, Rory?”
“Pipe down, everyone!” Rory yelled. “Sorry, Mr. AP, but you gotta listen and so does your shrimpy kid.”
“Put him down,” Dad said.
“Yeah, put me down.” It was nice to have Dad sticking up for me this time.
“I’ll put him down if he stops grabbing at your dog.”
“Timminy!” Dad gave me one of those looks. So much for that one second when Dad seemed to be on my side. The Jerk put me down and then cradled Maxi in both his arms even as she wriggled to get rid of the quills.
Dad looked Rory right in the eye and said, “You have one minute. Go.”
“Your puppy lost a battle with a porcupine. She’s hurting, but you can’t pull quills out like Minny here keeps trying to do. They’re barbed, they’ll break off, leave pieces inside her, get infected.”
“So what do you suggest?” Dad asked.
“Take her to the emergency clinic in Bangor. They’ll pull ’em out the right way.”
“But Maxi has a vet right here in town,” said Mom.
“Closed at night. If you call their number, they’ll have a message referring you to the Bangor place,” said Rory.
“Got it. Thanks, Rory. Lynda, you drive. I’ll hold Maxi in the backseat. Timminy, look up the clinic’s number and tell them we’re on our way. Then send us the clinic’s address. After that, call Abby’s parents. Their number is on the fridge. Just so they know you’re here alone if you need them.”
“Dad, no! I’m going. Maxi is my dog.”
“Not this time, Timminy. You have a job—those calls. They’re important too. Plus there’s school tomorrow. We don’t know how late we’ll be.”
Ew! I wished I were as little as everyone thought I was so I could throw a toddler temper tantrum. But I’d failed Maxi already that night. I couldn’t get in the way of her getting help. So I simply said, “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy,” Dad said to me.
And then “Good girl,” as he reached to take Maxi from Rory.
But Rory held on to her and said, “Get in the back, Mr. AP, buckle up, and I’ll pass her to you.”
Dad got in and as Rory passed Maxi to him, Dad said, “Thanks for your help. Stop in my office in the morning and I’ll let you know how she’s doing.”
“I will and no problem, Mr. AP.”
Dad nodded as Mom drove off.
“You okay, kid?” asked Rory.
“Yeah.”
“Want me to stay?”
“No! You’re not staying.”
“Okay then, I’d better head back.” He started down the dri
veway.
“But you came out of the woods,” I said.
“Yeah, out for a walk, but it’s kinda dark to go back that way. Don’t want to run into that porcupine and need you to come rescue me. You might have a hard time carrying me to the clinic.” He snorted at his joke.
I was too tired to put up with Rory so I turned to go inside.
But the Jerk wasn’t finished. “Did I hear your puppy’s name right? Maxi?”
I nodded.
“Aww! Minny and Maxi, how cute.”
I went inside and slammed the door before my parents would have to come visit me in jail for assault and battery—below the knees!
• • •
SECRET #18
Trouble is easier to get into than out of.
CHAPTER 19
NOW I KNEW what a worried parent felt like. I couldn’t stop pacing and checking the clock.
Mr. Winslow asked if I wanted him to come over and keep me company, but I said “no thanks.” I was a big kid, a fifth grader. I’d stayed home alone before. Why did everyone think I was such a wimpy little kid?
But if Abby had offered to come over, I’d have said yes in a second. Abby cared about Maxi, even though she’d only just met her. She would understand why I was so worried. But she also had common sense that I didn’t have, so she could talk me out of my worst fears …
Maxi would die.
Maxi’s snout would get infected and have to be amputated. Then she couldn’t hear or smell.
Maxi would be in the pet hospital for a week, a month, a year!
Maxi would be too scared to go outside the rest of her life, and she’d have to use one of those embarrassing kitty litter boxes. And I’d have to clean it!
But mostly, Maxi would die …
My parents got home shortly after midnight. Maxi was still groggy from the anesthesia they’d put her under to remove the quills. Dad carried her into the living room and put her on her bed. For the first time, she wasn’t going to be the watchdog in the hallway outside our bedrooms. Which was okay by me. It was my turn to guard her. After my parents went to bed, I snuck downstairs and lay next to Maxi. I rested my hand on her side as I repeated my mind words.
It’s okay, girl. Okay. Okay.
I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again. Never. Never.
Her breathing was so even, so peaceful—she didn’t even whimper with her usual puppy dreams. I tried to stay awake to comfort her all night long, but instead, touching her, feeling the rhythm of her breaths put me to sleep.
• • •
When Dad gently squeezed my shoulder to wake me in the morning, he didn’t crab at me for sleeping downstairs. He said, “Looks like you both had a good night’s sleep.” I looked at Maxi and smiled. We each had left matching drool spots on her dog bed.
Maxi was still sleeping when I left with Dad for school. Mom was going to juggle her schedule so she could stay home with Maxi, who needed to take antibiotic pills for a few days to stop any infection. Lucky puppy—her pills were going to be hidden in chunks of cheese.
When I got to school, I couldn’t focus. I just wanted to get back home to Maxi and make sure she was okay.
I peeked into Dad’s office before lunch. I knew he would have checked in with Mom. He was busy talking to a teacher, but I caught his eye and mouthed, Maxi. He kept talking while giving me a thumbs-up. I smiled and nodded.
In the lunchroom, I got hot lunch for the first time, since I’d woken up too late to pack a lunch. As I walked with my tray past Abby’s table, she was busy chatting with her friends and ed tech. She acted like nothing was wrong. Maybe her dad hadn’t told her about my call last night. Should I tell her Maxi got quilled? She didn’t care about me, but I knew she cared about Maxi. But everyone else was there, and I didn’t want to step in the middle of their conversation.
So I sat at my usual table and kept staring at Abby as I pushed the food around on my tray.
She’d want to know.
She wouldn’t.
She’d want to know.
She wouldn’t.
I needed a scientific way to figure this out …
So I spun my fork on the table. If the tines pointed toward Abby, she’d want to know. If they pointed away from Abby, she wouldn’t want to know.
On the first spin the tines pointed away from Abby so …
I did two out of three.
The second spin pointed toward Abby.
And the third pointed …
Toward Abby.
I had my scientific answer—Abby definitely wanted to know about Maxi and the porcupine.
But how to tell her?
I didn’t want everyone at her table to know. Just her.
If I stopped to talk, her friends might ask, “Who’s the midget, Abby?” I could write her a note, but I didn’t know how to write in braille.
Hmm.
Lightbulb moment!
Abby had a helper at school for a reason—to help her! I’d write a note and give it to Abby’s ed tech to read to her. Then Abby would call me the second school finished to hear all about Maxi’s quilling.
I found a pen, but I didn’t have any paper unless I ripped pages out of the nerds’ books. I didn’t want them kicking me off their table so my napkin would have to do. On one side I wrote …
Abby’s Ed Tech,
Please read the note on the other side just to Abby. Thank you!
Then on the other side, I wrote …
Abby,
Maxi got quilled by a porcupine last night. She wanted you to know, but her penmanship is PAWful ! She’s going to be okay … PROBABLY.
Your neighbor, Timminy
I reread it twice, then a third time. It was short, simple, to the point, and a little funny—I hoped—to make Abby laugh.
I stood up and took such a deep breath I hiccupped. I kept hiccupping as I carried my lunch tray and the note. I walked toward the return-tray drop-off, eyeing Abby the whole way, then stopped behind her ed tech, and whispered, “Excuse me—here.” I dropped the napkin note in front of the ed tech and hiccupped my loudest hiccup yet.
The ed tech jumped, which made me jump, which made my tray jump out of my hands and land … upside down …
On top of her head!
A mac-and-cheese-peas-applesauce shampoo!
“Ew!” The ed tech squealed, grabbing my napkin note to wipe food out of her hair.
“OH NO!” HICCUP!
“Ew!” the ed tech kept squealing. “Ew!”
“STOP!” I screamed.
I grabbed the slimy napkin from the ed tech and said, “Don’t wipe with this—hiccup—it’s a note for Abby!” Hiccup!
“Timminy? Is that you?” asked Abby.
“It’s some peewee kid,” said a boy.
“That’s Timminy.” Abby nodded.
Other kids at the table jumped into the conversation.
“A note for Abby?”
“She can’t read it.”
“She’s blind!”
But before I could explain, the ed tech squealed, “Ew! My hair! Aaargh! I just had it done!”
I wished some of that food had gotten into the ed tech’s mouth to plug it. She groaned again.
“Oh, shut up already! I’m sorry.”
“Timminy!” Abby gasped.
I opened my mouth to explain to her, to her friends, to her ed tech that this was all just one big mix-up.
HICCUP!
“OH, FORGET IT!” I yelled and stomped out of the cafeteria.
• • •
SECRET #19
A good idea can turn bad faster than the time it takes you to hiccup.
CHAPTER 20
I WANTED OUT of this school. Now!
But how?
I ducked into the bathroom.
I knew I couldn’t stall in a stall all day.
I’d probably fit through that tiny frosted bathroom window, but it was too high, near the ceiling. I couldn’t
reach it, and I wasn’t about to holler for the Jerk to come and give me a boost.
I could only think of one thing that might work. I ran the hot water in the faucet and rubbed it on my face and neck. Then I half walked, half ran down the hall to the office. I muttered to the secretary, “I’m sick. Need to see my dad, er … Mr. Harris.”
“Why don’t you go see the school nurse, Timminy?”
“She can’t fix what’s wrong with me.”
Then that softie secretary said, “Have a seat. I’ll see if he’s available.”
Dad stepped out of his office and waved me in. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m sick. I need to go home.”
He felt my forehead. “I don’t think you have a temp, but you do feel kind of clammy. Any other symptoms?”
“I think I could puke.” Which wasn’t a lie.
Dad continued, “Why don’t you lie down in the nurse’s office or sit in here for a while to see if you’ll feel better? Maybe it’s something you ate at lunch.”
It was lunch all right, but not anything I ate.
“Dad, I need to go home. Please!”
“Okay, I’ll see if Mom can come pick you up.”
“But should she leave Maxi alone? So soon?”
“I’ll call her.”
I could only hear Dad’s side of the conversation, but I could fill in the rest. They both thought I was “worried sick” about Maxi, which was fine with me if it got me out of school.
Mom did come pick me up and—surprise!—Maxi was in the backseat. “Oh, you’re doing better, girl.” She cuddled up on the ride home, practically climbing into my lap.
I buried my face in Maxi’s fur and whispered, “I feel better already.”
• • •
SECRET #20
Sometimes the best medicine isn’t medicine at all.
CHAPTER 21
“I’M HOME TO take care of you now, girl.”
I was relieved Maxi didn’t seem to have any leftover problems from the run-in with the porcupine, and that she didn’t even hold a grudge against me. I rubbed her belly and snuck her some cheese without pills. Then we both had another drool nap.