Belle's Challenge

by Connie Gotsch

  Darcy scratched my shoulders. From her smile, I knew she understood my thoughts. I rested my head against her knee.

  Mayor Robinson sputtered as if he were laughing, and then coughed. “Come on, how can a dog improve reading scores?”

  “The dog’s handlers encourage the kids through the dogs,” Margaret answered. “Why don’t you let us demonstrate?”

  Mayor Robinson shot the city council a glance. “You want to see?”

  They nodded and mumbled yes.

  A woman in the audience raised her hand. “Wait a minute. I heard that one of the therapy dogs bit a child at the library recently. Is there anything to that?”

  Josie smelled like a mountain of pepper. “Jean Robinson’s best buddy,” she muttered to herself.

  Mrs. Krebbs whispered into Margaret’s ear. “What do you want to bet Jean Robinson’s behind getting rid of the program by cutting the library budget? She probably sent her friends to talk against it to individual city council members.”

  “Nobody was bitten.” Mrs. Redhouse looked the questioner in the eye. “One of the children mistreated two of the dogs. The dogs did not hurt her.”

  “If a therapy dog did hurt someone, who would pay damages?” the woman persisted.

  “Dog handlers carry insurance through Pet Partners.”

  Could I have done something when Emily kicked us to keep her from spreading lies? Could I have kept her from kicking me? Perhaps if I had been nicer and nuzzled her?

  With a frown, the mayor tapped his hammer. “All right, let’s proceed with the demonstration.”

  The children settled on the floor. With a tail wag, Buster sprawled beside Katherine, his noisy landing bringing laughter.

  All right, try Buster’s way and get floppy. Letting my legs sway, I tried to tumble from a standing position on Katherine’s other side. My feet shot from under me and I crashed onto my ribs and shoulder, tongue slapping her knee.

  A guffaw exploded as I sprawled and flopped like a fish pulled from an Illinois creek.

  Darcy stared at me. “What’s the matter with you, Belle?”

  So much for settling down Buster style. Rolling onto my belly, I settled beside Katherine with as much dignity as I could muster.

  Stifling a giggle, she scratched my head.

  I licked her face, and more laughter erupted.

  Mayor Robinson tapped the table and looked at Margaret. “Continue, please. We’re running out of time for this issue.” Scowling at Buster and me and smelling peppery at the edges of his ink and pen scent, he said, “I wonder if therapy dogs in the library are more disruptive than anything else.”

  Oh, fleas. I’d messed up big time. Heaving a sigh, I inched away from Katherine to a spot where I felt comfortable.

  Jazzy cocked her head and gave me a quizzical look. “You’re usually so serious and sweet. Why did you pick now, of all times, to be silly?”

  I stared at her. “Sweet and serious? Me?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “You are not a clown like Buster or me. Quit acting like one.”

  All right, imitating Buster was a bad idea. Fleas on it. Putting my head on my paws, I waited.

  “Y’know,” Jazzy continued. “I think you’re a trifle jealous of Buster. It’s making life miserable for both you and him.”

  I jumped. “H-how do you know?”

  “By the way you look at him. You going to let this therapy dog stuff ruin your friendship?”

  Darcy sat down beside me and tapped a book. Buster put his paw on it. Katherine snuggled next to him.

  Hot from my ears to my tail, I dropped my paw beside Buster’s and laid my nose on Katherine’s lap.

  Mrs. Redhouse smiled at us. “Katherine, would you like to read first?”

  Katherine began reading her dog book in a soft voice that grew louder and louder as she pronounced long words without stumbling.

  The mayor stared at her, then heaved a sigh. The smell of dried leaves mixed with his other odors.

  Josie scowled at him and smelled like pepper.

  What was the problem? Didn’t he want her to read?

  Josie leaned toward Margaret’s ear. “He knows she’s improved, and he knows the program is good, but he doesn’t want to keep it, the stubborn…” She swallowed.

  Katherine finished reading, and a couple of other kids presented passages from their books.

  The mayor tapped his hammer on the table. “I think we have seen enough to understand the points you presented. Please sit down, and we will vote on keeping or eliminating the half time position in the library budget.”

  Kids, dog handlers, Margaret, Susan, Darcy, Mrs, Krebbs, Josie, and Mrs. Redhouse smelled like electricity as they went back to their seats.

  The mayor tapped his hammer. “Will someone make a motion either to keep or eliminate keeping the library positions in the budget at the Appleton Library?”

  A motion? Were we going somewhere? I rose.

  “I move to continue to appropriate funds for the Appleton Public Library as they are until the end of the school year,” one of the councilmen said, but he didn’t get up from his chair.

  “Sit, Belle” Darcy whispered.

  I dropped to my haunches. Sometimes humans defied understanding. Maybe Buster did offer the best advice. People sense didn’t always make dog sense, so don’t worry about it. I lay down and licked a paw, tuning out the nonsense until Mayor Robinson tapped his hammer.

  “Councilman Martinez, how do you vote on the question?”

  “No,” a man called.

  I caught my breath and thought about Katherine.

  “Councilwoman Smith?” The mayor glanced at a red-haired woman next to him.

  “No.” She gave the kids a sad look.

  The mayor continued calling names. A “Yes” resounded.

  Darcy swallowed hard.

  “Yes,” came another shout.

  Darcy’s electricity crackled. Sweat poured off her as if she’d been running. Around her, people rustled.

  Craning my neck, I saw everyone look at a small dark woman at the end of the table, the only one who had not voted.

  She pushed up horned-rimmed black glasses, played with a gold pen and took a breath.

  I felt as if we all breathed in with her and waited.

  “Councilwoman Sawyer?” Mayor Robinson’s words seemed to boom off the den’s walls, though I felt no pressure of a shout in my ears.

  Councilwoman Sawyer opened her mouth. The iron smell of determination rolled off her.

  Sour stomach mixed with Darcy’s lightning aroma. She grabbed Susan’s hand and hung on.

  “Yes,” replied Councilwoman Sawyer. “Save the library budget.”

  Katherine jumped up and clapped her hands.

  “Whew.” Darcy’s breath exploded from her mouth. She flung her arms around Susan, and they bounced in their seats.

  The mayor’s hammer tapped. “Passed three to two. The Appleton Public Library will maintain its budget at city expense for now. We will revisit the issue at the end of the school year.”

  Katherine waved to her father.

  The mayor lifted his hands and let them drop. “I hope we can find the money,” he muttered.

  “Make the dog catcher’s position half time,” Josie muttered.

  Ears sagging, Buster sighed. “I guess I better enjoy the kids while I can.”

  I glanced at Katherine grinning at Josie. Holy Bones, if I could work just with Katherine, being a therapy dog might be okay, but I sure didn’t enjoy strange kids buzzing around me. I would be very happy to let go of this job at the end of the school year, if Darcy would let me.

  Chapter 12

  A Lesson

  I lost track of the number of sun times that followed, but one moon time we sat on the ground while Bob and Margaret sett
led on lawn chairs by a river. The water reflected orange speckles from candles hissing in paper bags along the bank. Darcy called the bags luminaries and said they reminded her of stars.

  To me, they resembled barbecue fires, like the one we had in Illinois when I did agility and could play in Auntie Ellen’s backyard without worrying that someone would yell at me for being off leash.

  Feet crunched on gravel as more people joined us, including Jazzy and the Krebbs.

  The breeze smelled of candle wax, water, and evergreen needles. I located Darcy’s electric aroma someplace, mixing with the scent of snapdragons.

  Wearing a pink coat with a white furry collar, Katherine walked by holding Josie’s hand. Both waved. Josie opened lawn chairs near us.

  Darcy’s smell got stronger and I spotted her, Susan, Emily, Mrs. Merriwether and the chorus in a clearing between pine trees. Everyone around me clapped. Mrs. Merriwether raised her hands, and a song burst into the air.

  When the singing stopped and people clapped again, an aroma of happy lightning rolled off the chorus.

  Smiling, Darcy stepped in front of the group. Emily joined her, her fake rose smell thick and heavy. She pushed her lower lip out at Darcy.

  Both girls watched Mrs. Merriwether. She raised her hands.

  Darcy’s voice lifted into the evening, making a sound more delightful than dog biscuits falling on the floor.

  Emily began to sing. Her notes ground against Darcy’s, stabbing my ears. Buster and Jazzy jumped.

  Sour stomach mixed with Darcy’s lightning. Raising the pitch of her melody, she blended her sound with Emily’s.

  I saw Jazzy and Buster’s ears relax. Mine did too, because now listening felt like dog heaven. Like the tastes of bacon and liver treats together.

  A peppery stench exploded off Emily. Her sound grated again. Darcy adjusted hers, and their voices blended.

  Emily’s peppery odor became a stench, like it had the day Darcy took over as center on the soccer team.

  Emily glowered at her so fast I wasn’t sure I’d seen the look.

  Darcy changed her pitch again, trying to match Emily’s.

  What in dog heaven was wrong with Emily? I stared at Buster. “She’s hateful.”

  “Must be going around,” he rumbled.

  He was right. I’d been miserable to him. And why? Just because he was a good therapy dog and I wasn’t?

  Darcy drew a breath and tried to adjust her melody to Emily’s one more time.

  Mrs. Merriwether lowered her hands and faced the audience. Pepper mixed with her minty scent, and her mouth smiled while her eyes did not. “Sometimes there’s something that suddenly goes awry…”

  Nudging Darcy, Emily whispered in a voice too low for other humans to hear. “I knew you’d mess up.”

  Darcy looked away, fury in her eyes.

  Mrs. Meriwether kept talking. “But I know these kids can sing this piece, so we’re going to begin again.”

  The audience tittered.

  Mrs. Merriwether faced Emily and Darcy. “Come on now,” she hissed. “Listen to each other.”

  Did she look hard at Emily as she lifted her hands?

  Their voices blended, Emily’s low and dark as woods in the evening; Darcy’s high and delicate like a bird in the morning light. Emily’s notes wavered now and then, but Darcy’s filled the space between her and the audience.

  “I’ll bet you a dog biscuit Emily knows she’ll never sing like Darcy, and she doesn’t like it.” Buster stretched on the ground.

  I touched his nose. “I get that, but nothing’s worth that kind of anger, is it?”

  “No, Belle, it is not.” He didn’t look at me.

  I nuzzled his ear. “Buster, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I was mad at you because you’re a better therapy dog than I. I shouldn’t have been.”

  For about as long as it takes for a good drink of water, he did nothing, just listened to Darcy and Emily. Then he licked the end of my nose. “It’s okay, Belle. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Buster.” I leaned against him. “Nobody’s good at everything, are they?”

  “Is it a matter of being good at being a therapy dog, or a matter of daring to be good at it in your own way?” Buster asked.

  “I don’t know.” The air nipped my tail, and I cuddled against him, glad for his warmth.

  The song ended. Emily and Darcy bowed and sat down to a cheer.

  Mrs. Meriwether’s smile showed all her teeth when she looked at Darcy. Her lips tightened when she glanced at Emily.

  Emily looked down and stank of sour stomach.

  A stone grew in my gut. What would Mrs. Merriwether say to Emily, and what might that mean for Darcy?

  Chapter 13

  Another Try

  A few tail-nipping sun times later, Darcy took me and Buster into the yard. Jazzy and Susan came over, and we jumped through the hoop. Buster snuffled in the grass.

  Across the irrigation ditch, the Robinsons’ den glowed with Christmas lights. The door opened and Mrs. Robinson stepped out with a sack that stank like fish. Wrinkling her nose, she marched toward a metal garbage can.

  I shivered and kept my nose on her while Jazzy jumped.

  Darcy patted me. “It’s okay, Belle. After what Emily did at the concert, she wouldn’t dare show her face here. Besides, I’ve thought it over, and we have a right to be in our own backyard.”

  Emily’s voice drifted from inside her den. “You tell a story at the festival? You can barely read aloud.”

  Katherine’s voice answered, “That’s not true anymore. I’m going to go over to Belle and Buster’s house and ask if I can practice telling the story to Belle.”

  My heart flip flopped.

  “I’ll tell Mother on you.” Emily’s pitch pierced my ears.

  Mrs. Robinson slammed the garbage can lid and hurried back into the den. “Girls, girls. I’m disappointed,” she chided as she shut the door.

  Susan giggled. “I am so glad Mrs. Merriwether told Emily she couldn’t lead the alto section after she deliberately sang off key to try to make you look bad at the concert.”

  “Wait until next soccer season. She’ll get even.” Darcy moved to let Susan and Jazzy have a turn at the hoop.

  I pressed against Darcy’s leg. Maybe Darcy was struggling to deal with Emily the same way I struggled to be a therapy dog. We both had to make the best of things.

  Leaning against Darcy, I watched Jazzy jump.

  As I got ready to take another turn, a child’s laugh tickled my ears.

  Katherine bounced up to us and patted my head. “Hello, Belle.”

  Looking up at Darcy, she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’ve been working on my story for the storytelling festival. Can I tell it to Belle and Buster?”

  Darcy smiled down at her. “Sure. They’d love to hear it.”

  Katherine took her hand. “I wish Emily would stop being mean to you.”

  I nuzzled Katherine’s waist and smelled her snapdragon scent.

  Buster licked her chin.

  She giggled. “Buster, you’re a live wash cloth.” Putting her arms around me, she kissed my nose.

  Susan dropped onto the flag stones and sat cross-legged, Jazzy’s head falling into her lap. “Jazzy would like to hear it, too.”

  Darcy settled in a patio chair.

  Drawing a deep breath, Katherine placed herself in front of the girls.

  I sat within patting distance, and she put her hand on my neck.

  Buster settled on her other side, licking her shoe.

  “A long time ago a woman called Katherine Peters married a man named Stanley Wright. They lived in Iowa.”

  She whispered softer than a breeze through twigs. I cocked my ears forward.

  “Why don’t you speak louder?” Darcy suggested. “B
elle can’t hear you.”

  Opening her mouth, Katherine squared her shoulders.

  “Stanley was sick, but he never told anyone what was wrong with him. He was a doctor.” This time, her voice sounded like wind rustling delicate grass. “Katherine’s brother owned a bank right here in Appleton. So he invited Katherine and Stanley...” She paused and began to smell like sour stomach.

  I looked at Buster. What should I do?

  He arched his neck and licked Katherine’s face.

  Not my style. I tickled her wrist with my nose. Come on, you can do it.

  Katherine tucked her arms around me and Buster, hanging on like we were pulling her out of a swamp.

  Her voice grew stronger. “Katherine Wright began working at her brother’s bank. She worked so hard, she became president of the bank. Everybody respected her so much that nobody ever called her anything but Mrs. Wright after that. Except for Stanley, of course. He called her Katherine. One day she gave a little boy named Johnny Eaton a piggy bank and told him to put the pennies in it, and the dollars would take care of themselves. So Johnny saved money and got rich. Mrs. Wright was my dad’s great aunt, and Johnny was my mother’s great grandfather. The end.”

  Susan and Darcy applauded.

  I smelled Margaret at the patio door. Sliding back the glass, she stepped outside.

  “Very good, Katherine,” Darcy said with a glance at us. “I bet Belle would like to find out how Johnny got his money and if it was hard or easy for him to get it, or if anybody told him he couldn’t save money and he showed them.”

  “Buster and Jazzy would like to know what Mrs. Wright looked like and what Johnny looked like,” added Susan.

  Patting us, Katherine wrinkled her brow. “I’ll have to ask my mother and my dad, guys,” she whispered, soft as the wind in the grass.

  Feet thumped in the Robinson yard. Buster and I both lifted our ears.

  Mrs. Robinson raced to the irrigation ditch as if skunks chased her. A metallic stench swelling from her skin, she dashed to the footbridge, exploded into our yard. Bolting around our dog run, she pulled Katherine away from us.

  “Come home and wash your hands.” Her voice trembled. “Those dogs could have bitten you right in your pretty little face.” She caressed Katherine’s cheeks.