Maxi's Secrets

by Lynn Plourde

  My parents came out to watch and laugh at Maxi too. Mom said, “She reminds me of you, Timminy, when you were a toddler and played out in the snow the first time. Such wonder!”

  Next, Maxi lay down and rolled on her back, squirming every which way. Her Pyr fur coat that made her so hot in the summer now kept her warm as she rolled around in the snow. She loved it. I wasn’t sure we’d ever get her back inside.

  Brrrrng-brrrrng! Dad’s cell phone.

  “It’s for you, Timminy. Mrs. Winslow.” Dad passed me his phone.

  Mrs. Winslow’s voice sounded strained. “Timminy, is Abby with you?”

  “No, I haven’t seen her yet today.”

  “Did she tell you her plans? Bruce and I ran errands and when we got home, we assumed Abby was in her room. But we hollered for her to come to lunch, and she didn’t answer. We checked. She’s not there. We checked the whole house. She’s not anywhere. We were hoping she was with you.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Did she tell you what she was doing today?”

  I swallowed hard and now my voice sounded strained. “Um, we’d talked about going for a walk in the woods.”

  “Not in the snow?”

  “No, we thought we could get a walk in before the snow arrived, but it started earlier and I got home later from running errands with my dad.”

  My parents stared at me, looking worried as they pieced things together from my side of the conversation.

  I swallowed hard and said, “But, Mrs. Winslow, sometimes Abby goes for walks by herself in the woods.”

  There was silence on the other end. I didn’t know if Mrs. Winslow had dropped the phone or fainted or what.

  I looked at Dad, nodded, and said, “We’ll be right over.”

  Mom made Dad and me come inside to bundle up before we headed over to the Winslows’. She said she’d head over later if we didn’t find Abby right off, but for now she was going to start cooking so we’d all have something hot to eat when we got back.

  I wanted to take Maxi with us. Mom insisted, “No!”

  But I was willing to fight the Boss on this one. “She’s coming with us, Mom. Maxi has a super sense of smell, and she’s the only search dog we’ve got.”

  Mom still wasn’t convinced. “But she’s deaf.”

  “She has her pager collar, and she’s not blind. She can look for Abby. And she’s found her way out of the woods before when I couldn’t.”

  Now both my parents looked at me.

  Dad started, “You were lost in the woods, Timminy? And you never told—”

  Mom interrupted him. I figured she’d finish what he’d started, but instead she said, “Kenneth, obviously Timminy got himself found. There’s no time for this. Abby’s missing. You three need to go find her.”

  Three? She said three, so Maxi could come too.

  I grabbed my mittens and hat, put on my boots, and thought about grabbing treats to coax Maxi along during the search, but I didn’t bother.

  Maxi didn’t need a reward to look for Abby.

  It was Abby!

  • • •

  SECRET #39

  Maybe it was possible for the sky to fall.

  CHAPTER 40

  ABBY’S MOM WAS waiting for us and said, “Bruce is out back—”

  I interrupted. “Let’s call her cell phone! Abby always has it with her.”

  Mrs. Winslow whispered, “I did. I called her before I called you. No answer, it went to her voice mail. I left her a message. She hasn’t called back.”

  I shivered, and not because of the cold and snow. Abby always had her phone. What’d happened?

  Dad jumped in. “What about her cane? Is that missing?”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Winslow.

  “Good,” said Dad.

  Mrs. Winslow tried to nod. I understood. The cane was maybe a little bit of good news, but not really. Mrs. Winslow and I both knew Abby too well. Something had happened, and she might need more than her cane to get her out of trouble.

  “I’ve called the sheriff’s department. They’re on their way and they’ve notified local game wardens. I’ll wait here for them.”

  “We’ll go help Bruce,” Dad said. He put his hand on Mrs. Winslow’s shoulder to make her feel better, parent to parent. I gave Dad credit for trying, but even I know parents can’t feel better when their kids are in trouble.

  I tugged Maxi toward the backyard, then spun around. “Have you called Rory yet? You should. He hunts and really knows these woods.”

  Mrs. Winslow and Dad looked at each other and said, “Good idea.”

  As we walked around their house, I looked up at the snow coming down harder, like someone was shaking a snow globe and we were inside it. I looked behind us and saw our footprints. Maybe that would help. If only we could find Abby’s footprints before the snow covered them up.

  When we got out back, Mr. Winslow was yelling and pausing, yelling and pausing—pausing to hear Abby’s response, which didn’t come.

  He grabbed my arm. “Do you know which way she’s gone into the woods before? I’ve been waiting for you to tell me where before I head in.”

  Dad put his hand over Mr. Winslow’s to release his grip from me and said, “Easy, Bruce. Do you think we should be going in before the sheriff’s department and game wardens get here? Will it be harder for them to find her if our footprints are mixed up in there too?”

  Mr. Winslow moved his pointing finger to Dad’s chest and tapped it in rhythm to his words. “What … if … it … were … YOUR … kid?”

  Dad dropped his eyes. “You’re right. Let’s go. Which way, Timminy?”

  Everything looked different in the snow. It was sticking to trees and bushes, making odd, ghostly shapes. I wasn’t sure where to go. And anyway, I was the one who had gotten lost before—no one should trust me. I was going to say that when I felt a pull, a strong pull.

  I looked down and saw Maxi tugging.

  “Maxi knows,” I said. “Let’s follow her.” And we did.

  We headed into the woods. The snow wasn’t as deep in there yet. Some of the pine trees acted like giant umbrellas protecting the ground from snow (but it wasn’t long before those umbrellas dumped snow on us as the branches became too heavy). We stopped every ten feet and hollered, all three of us, “Abby! Abby! Abby!” Then we held our breath and waited. Nothing. By then Maxi was straining against her leash again. She knew we had farther to go.

  We kept walking ten feet, stopping to holler, no answer.

  Walking ten feet, stopping to holler, no answer.

  Over and over, until …

  Maxi barked and nudged something under the snow with her snout.

  We looked down and I could feel it. Two grown men and one short boy wanted to do the same thing—cry.

  Maxi had found Abby’s phone.

  Mr. Winslow picked it up and cradled it in his gloved hands as if he were holding a piece of his daughter, but it wasn’t a piece of her.

  My dad cleared his throat. “At least now we know she’s out here, Bruce.” Dad meant well, but I couldn’t imagine his words were any comfort to Mr. Winslow. They didn’t comfort me.

  Finding Abby’s phone was a gut punch. Part of me had hoped she was asleep under her covers or reading a braille book in her closet and her parents had somehow missed her when they’d looked.

  The idea of her being out in these woods alone in a snowstorm was a nightmare, a nightmare that was now real.

  We didn’t say anything more, not to one another. There was nothing to say. We shouted, “Abby! Abby! Abby!” out into the storm as we kept following Maxi’s lead. Maxi was our hope. She wanted to find Abby as much as we did, and she seemed to be on her trail.

  All of a sudden, sounds blasted at us from opposite directions.

  “Anyone there? This is the Warden Service.”

  Vroom-vroom-vroom!

  The first sound squawked from a bullhorn. The Warden Service, the expert searchers, had arrived to search for Abby.
A relief.

  The second sound—Rory’s ATV. Mrs. Winslow must have reached him. Somehow that was a bigger relief to me—he knew these woods and he’d do anything for Abby.

  There was a third sound too, but I was the only one who heard it. A little whine, more like a whimper. I looked down. It was Maxi. She looked up at me with begging eyes. I knew what she was telling me. She wanted to go find Abby, and we were holding her back.

  The snow was falling harder and visibility was getting poorer, but I felt like I could see things more clearly than I had since we’d started searching.

  I cleared my throat, hoping they’d listen to me even though I was little. “Dad, why don’t you follow our footsteps back to where we found Abby’s phone and stay there so the wardens will know that’s the last known location for her.” Dad nodded.

  I continued, “Mr. Winslow, head toward the sound of the warden’s bullhorn. Lead them back to Dad and tell them Maxi is on to Abby’s scent, but we haven’t found her yet.” Mr. Winslow nodded.

  I gulped. Were they really going to listen to me? Finally, I said, “I’m heading toward the vroom. It’s Rory on his ATV. He knows these woods. Maybe he’s seen something or has ideas where to look. I’ll update him on what we’ve found … haven’t found.”

  Dad and Mr. Winslow looked at each other as if to ask, Got a better plan?

  Mr. Winslow spoke first, “Here, Timminy. We have our cell phones, but you don’t have one. Take Abby’s.” He clicked it to see if it still worked after sitting in the snow. How long had it been on the ground? It did seem to work. So maybe it hadn’t been too long.

  Dad said, “Good idea, Bruce. Are you sure you can find Rory, Timminy? I don’t need you missing too.”

  “Yes, Dad. He’ll be on the wide trail up ahead. I’ll just follow the sound of his engine. Plus I have Maxi. If I can’t find Rory, I’ll have Maxi lead me back to Abby’s house.” He couldn’t see my fingers crossed inside my mittens.

  Dad nodded, then reached out to give me a hug. We each headed off in our separate directions. When we were far enough away, I leaned down and lifted Maxi’s snout to look her right in the eyes. Are you sure, girl? She whined. I knew her answer, but I wanted to hear it again. Okay, I trust you. Tell Abby I sent you. I put Abby’s phone in front of her snout for a final sniff, to remind her of the treasure she was searching for. But she didn’t need a reminder. She knew. She whined once more, then leaned in, and gave me one of her hugs as I kissed the top of her head.

  She ran off. Just like that she was gone, her whiteness blending into the falling snow.

  I tried following in the direction she’d gone. But I couldn’t keep up, and soon her paw prints were covered by snow (must be the one–two inches per hour they’d predicted). I still stopped and hollered every ten steps, “Abby! Abby! Maxi!” Maxi couldn’t hear me, but I needed to say her name ’cause I was looking for her too. I waited and listened. Nothing.

  It was easier walking on the wide trail. I saw tire tracks in the snow that I figured must be from Rory’s ATV. Tire tracks were bigger, deeper, easier to follow than a dog’s paw prints. I had no idea if Abby had wandered onto the wide trail. Still, I stayed on it since I didn’t know which way to go and I’d only get myself lost.

  LOST!

  That word pounced on me. I tried to shake it off, but it had already dug in its claws. What if you lost both of them? Abby and Maxi? It’ll be your fault, you know.

  ALL.

  YOUR.

  FAULT.

  You weren’t there for Abby when you promised her one more walk. And you let Maxi go into a storm, into danger—ALONE.

  LOST!

  BOTH LOST!

  FOREVER LOST!

  I balled up my fists inside my mittens and swung and swung at those words flying around my head.

  “SHUT UP!” I screamed. “I don’t care what you say. Leave me alone. I’m not playing your games anymore. I’m not feeling sorry for myself—I have stuff to do.

  GOTTA.

  FIND.

  MY.

  GIRLS!”

  I stomped through the snow and headed in the direction I thought Maxi had gone. I couldn’t be sure. But I was sure I was doing my best and that’s all I could do.

  • • •

  SECRET #40

  There’s no guarantee your best is good enough.

  CHAPTER 41

  THE SNOW SEEMED lighter, or maybe somehow I was.

  I kept walking and yelling, stopping and listening. I knew if Maxi had found Abby and she was within range that she’d bark to let me know where she was.

  As I strained to listen, a familiar sound grew and grew.

  Vroom-vroom-vroom!

  It sounded like the other beast, Rory. I’d lost his engine sound for a while, but now he was getting closer. And closer!

  But I didn’t jump out of his way this time. I waved both arms like crazy, so he’d see me, so he’d stop, before he ran over me.

  He jammed on his brakes. I slammed my eyes shut. Ready for the impact …

  A BLAST OF SNOW!

  I opened my eyes, and for the first time was eyeball to eyeball with Rory Pelletier, as he sat and I stood. I glanced down. Three inches to spare before he’d have hit me. I figured he’d yell at me and he did, but not what I expected.

  “Jump on, Minny! Abby! Last chance!”

  Rory raced on the wide trail for a quarter mile or so, then made a sharp left turn onto a narrow trail. Snowy, droopy branches smacked us, or rather smacked Rory. He was so big—he took all the hits, but then I got all the snow in my face.

  Rory killed the engine and jumped off. He pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his pocket, then reached up and grabbed a box strapped to a tree. He pushed a button and a little square fell into his palm. I recognized an SD card that cameras use. He closed his hand over the SD card to keep it dry as he reached inside his jacket with his other hand. He pulled out what looked like a handheld video game with a screen and a camouflage pattern around the edge. He slipped the SD card inside and pushed a switch. Rory was so tall I couldn’t look over his shoulder to see what he was seeing so I watched his face instead.

  That’s when I knew last chance meant “hopeful.”

  Rory didn’t waste words. “Abby—fifty minutes ago. Maxi—fifteen minutes ago. Both—thatta way.” He pointed deeper into the woods, down a narrow path heading away from the wide trail. Then he started walking thatta way.

  I had done a good job not asking questions that would slow us down. But I couldn’t muzzle this question, “Why the heck don’t we take your ATV?”

  “Too fast. We’d miss clues. Too loud. We wouldn’t hear them.”

  So I trudged behind Rory, trying to stay up with him.

  “Look left. I’ve got right,” he said.

  I stared left so hard my eyeballs ached, but all I saw was snow. Snow covered everything.

  But then Rory shouted, “There!” I looked right, and the snow had some indents.

  “ABBY!” Rory shouted.

  We froze—our bodies, our breaths.

  No answer.

  Rory stepped farther to the right and again, “ABBY!”

  No answer.

  “Dang!” Rory said. “Dogs have better hearing than people, but Maxi’s deaf. She’s no help.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” I said.

  Rory looked confused as I pulled the controller to Maxi’s collar out of my pocket and triggered it. Again and again.

  Then we heard it! We both heard it! A bark! Maxi’s bark!

  We raced in the direction of the barking. My legs were shorter, but that didn’t stop me from passing Rory. Maxi’s bark was like a turbo-boost to me.

  There!

  Down a deep gully.

  Maxi was still barking as she covered Abby’s body with her body.

  Oh no! Body! Please, please, Abby has to be more than a body.

  Rory and I both screamed, “ABBY!”

  First, a laugh bubbled up, and then, “What took
you two so long?”

  Rory and I threw our arms around each other and did a happy dance. (Don’t tell anyone, but we did!)

  Then we half walked, half stumbled down the side of the gully.

  Only when we reached them did Maxi get off Abby.

  “Phew!” she said. “Talk about a guard dog—she barely left me space to breathe, lying on me to keep me warm.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “It’s my ankle, twisted it when I fell.” But as Rory brushed aside some snow to look at it …

  Bee-bop-bing! Bee-bop-bing! My pocket started to vibrate.

  “My phone!” yelled Abby. “You found it!”

  “Maxi did.”

  Her phone screen showed who was calling. “It’s your dad, Abby,” I said.

  “Tell him I’m okay.”

  “You tell him.” I passed her the phone.

  When she clicked to answer the call, we could hear her father yelling, “TIMMINY, I’M WITH THE GAME WARDENS. WE FOUND RORY’S ABANDONED ATV. WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?”

  Abby’s voice was quieter than I’d ever heard it before. “He’s with me, Daddy. He’s with me.”

  I don’t know if the next sound I heard through the phone was a sob or a scream or a sigh—probably all three at the same time.

  I leaned down and buried my face in Maxi’s fur. I knew exactly how Abby’s dad felt.

  • • •

  SECRET #41

  Lost and found—there’s nothing like the found feeling.

  CHAPTER 42

  IT WAS LIKE we were in the middle of a live-action survival movie—watching it and acting in it, all at the same time.

  First things first—Abby. The game wardens showed up with Mr. Winslow. They were pretty sure her ankle wasn’t broken, but they still carried her out of the gully on a stretcher, wrapped her in blankets, and pulled her out on a sled behind one of their snowmobiles. Mr. Winslow was on the warden’s second snowmobile. He wouldn’t let Abby out of his sight.