Dog Day Afterschool

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Dog Day Afterschool Page 4

by Tommy Greenwald


  “I’ve—I’ve never seen her do that before,” I stammered. “She’s never afraid of anything.”

  “Scaredy-dog! Scaredy-dog!” Irwin sang, before I silenced him with a glare.

  Daisy bent down. “Come on out of there, Abby,” she said gently. “Purrkins isn’t going to do anything.” She scratched Purrkins’s belly, and the cat gave out a long, contented purr. “She’s a love bug, aren’t you, Purrky Purrky Purr?”

  I could have done without the nickname, but I appreciated Daisy’s effort. Unfortunately though, Abby seemed frozen in place.

  “Maybe I’ll put her down, and see how that goes,” Daisy suggested.

  “That’s a good idea,” Irwin said. “Otherwise Abby might be stuck under there all night.”

  “Jimmy, okay by you?”

  I nodded. Who was I to disagree with Daisy Flowers?

  FACT: Every once in a while—like, once every four million times—Daisy Flowers is wrong.

  Daisy put Purrkins down, and the next thing I knew, Abby ran to the corner of the patio and started howling her head off. But it was worse than at the Boathouse, because this time, Purrkins was howling back, and the two of them were circling each other like two heavyweights getting ready to fight for the world championship.

  The only good news was that by some miracle, neither one of them made the first move.

  “ABBY!” I yelled, freaking out.

  “PURRKINS!” Daisy yelled, also freaking out.

  “WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” Irwin hollered, enjoying every second of it.

  Daisy quickly scooped up Purrkins and ran back inside. Abby stopped barking, panted for a minute, went over to the water bowl and drank about three gallons of water, and then lay down and stared at the sliding door, waiting for the threat to return.

  Daisy came back out and plopped down in the chair next to me.

  “Okay, maybe no pets on this case,” she said.

  “Why no pets at all?” I said. “Abby is a CrimeBiter. Purrkins isn’t. Abby should still be able to be part of the mission.”

  Daisy sighed. “Are we actually arguing about this? Jeez, Jimmy, sometimes no one can be right but you. Fine. Whatever you say.”

  I stared at her. Was she actually going to let a cat ruin our friendship?

  FACT: Shep was right. People were crazy when it came to their pets. And yes: I include myself in that category.

  “Fine yourself,” I said, refusing to look at her. “Have it your way. No pets.”

  Irwin threw up his hands in relief.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said.

  ON THE WALK home from Daisy’s house, I said to Abby, “So let me get this straight—you have no problem taking on a dangerous diamond thief and a crazy lacrosse coach, but one little kitty cat sends you diving under a chair?”

  Abby looked a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth. But that was all I got out of her.

  “I know it might seem hard to believe right now,” I went on, “but Daisy and I may very well get married one day, so you’re going to have to learn to get along with Purrkins at some point.” Then I added, “The marriage thing is just between us, by the way.”

  Back home, Mrs. Cragg, my babysitter, was making her famous cinnamon apple muffins. They smelled amazing. It was hard to believe, but when I first met Mrs. Cragg, she was my archenemy. She hated Abby; helped her brother, Barnaby Bratford, steal my mom’s necklace; and—maybe worst of all—fed me seaweed for dinner. Now, she was one of my favorite adults—besides my parents, of course. And Shep. And Isaac, the baking genius who makes the farmer’s market a worthwhile place to visit, despite all the zucchinis they sell.

  “Jimmy!” she cried. “Just in time, I’m about to take them out of the oven.”

  “Are Dad or Misty home?”

  She shook her head. “No, sir. Misty is at Jarrod’s baseball game, and your dad is working today.” It was always good news when my dad was working, even though I liked having him around the house.

  “Got it. Can you take me to the shelter?”

  “That’s what I’m here for!”

  As I ate one of her yummy muffins, I explained to Mrs. Cragg what had happened that day: about the test, and falsely accusing Baxter, and the difficulty Daisy and I were having getting our pets to become friends.

  “Sounds like a trying day,” said Mrs. Cragg. “But I happen to know that your friendships are strong enough to withstand a few bumps in the road. And in the meantime, you have the shelter, where you can go to forget about all that stuff.”

  I nodded. Mrs. Cragg was right: the shelter was the one place I could get away from it all.

  FACT: Nothing can cheer a guy up more than a bunch of dogs who are happy to see you.

  On the way there, I fell asleep in the car, and dreamed that Abby and Purrkins were best friends, and they were playing in my backyard, and Daisy and I were sitting there watching them and laughing.

  It was the best dream ever.

  Then I woke up.

  THE FIRST THING I noticed when I walked into the shelter was that Shep wasn’t his usual happy, whistling self. Instead, he was on the phone, pacing around with his head down, waving his free arm around like he was swatting flies. I was about to go up to him to see if there was anything I could do, but when he saw me coming he waved me away, whispering, “Not now, Jimmy. Not now.”

  So I took Abby and headed to the outdoor training ring, where I saw Kelsey, Shep’s head trainer, teaching a King Charles spaniel several commands.

  “Weave,” Kelsey said to the spaniel. “Wait. Follow your star.”

  I smiled. It wasn’t that long ago that Shep was out here with Abby, training her to stop destroying my mom’s shoes and act like a seminormal dog. It ended up working a little too well.

  PROFILE

  Name: Kelsey Breed

  Age: Not sure, but I do know she’s from London, England

  Occupation: Animal trainer (probably because of her last name)

  Interests: Using weird words that I don’t understand

  FACT: The scary story of how Abby almost became like a normal dog is told in the previous CrimeBiters book. Spoiler alert: she didn’t lose her powers!

  I waved, and Kelsey came over with the spaniel. Since it was a dog and not a cat, Abby was happy to say hi by doing, you know, the usual stuff. (You know what I’m talking about, right? Is it okay if I don’t go into details? Great.)

  “This dog has me knackered,” Kelsey said. Like I said, she used a lot of words that sounded like a foreign language, even though they were in English.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Kelsey. “Shep looks like he’s on an intense phone call.”

  “I haven’t a clue,” Kelsey said, “but it’s not good. Hey, Jimmy, would you be a lovely chap and pick up the extra bacon wraps?” She was referring to the bacon that Shep strapped to a chair, which was part of the training process.

  FACT: If you can get a dog to ignore bacon, you can get a dog to do anything.

  A few minutes later, Shep hung up the phone. He had a grim expression on his face as he told the people who worked there to gather around.

  “Hey, everyone,” Shep said. “Well, yeah, I got some news. After a few false alarms, the day that we knew might come is finally here. It’s just been confirmed that our building has been sold, to some developer who is planning on turning this whole block into a shopping center. Unfortunately, that means we’re going to have to close the shelter at the end of next month.”

  No way.

  People gasped in shock, and started shouting things like “No!” and “We won’t go!” Shep shushed them with his hand. “It is what it is. The rent has been going up for years anyway, so it was only a matter of time. We will look for another place, but we may not find something for a while.”

  “What will happen to the animals?” someone shouted.

  “Who bought the building?” yelled someone else.

  Then someone swore, and then someone else swore, and suddenly
it was a cursefest in there.

  FACT: It’s wrong to swear. Unless someone tells you the animal shelter you work at is going to close. Then it’s still wrong to swear, but at least it’s understandable.

  “Please,” Shep said. “Please. Yelling and screaming isn’t going to do any good. And as for who bought it, it’s one of those private real estate investment companies, and apparently their lawyer doesn’t have to say who the actual investors are. I guess they’ve chosen to remain anonymous. And for good reason, since I know a lot of you would like to tell them a choice word or two.” People laughed, but it was an angry laugh. “Let’s just give our animals the most love we can until the day we close our doors for good. It’s the least we can do for those in our care, who depend on us. Thank you.”

  Everyone went up to Shep to either console him or beg him to fight back. But I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t going to do that. He looked like he just wanted to go home.

  “This is bloody awful,” said Kelsey. I wasn’t sure what blood had to do with it, but I knew what she meant.

  Finally, Shep spotted me out of the corner of his eye and came over. The first thing he did was bend down and pet Abby, who licked his hand and leaned into his legs. I think Abby knew what was going on and was trying to make Shep feel better.

  Shep smiled. “It’s dogs like this girl right here that will make me miss this most of all.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Who would kick a bunch of animals out of the only home they’ve ever had?”

  “People who are desperate for another nail salon, or another bank, or another overpriced coffee shop, that’s who.”

  “Well, I’m going to find out who those people are, and I’m going to talk them out of it.”

  Shep shook his head sadly. “I wish it were that easy. These people with the money, they’ve got a lot of lawyers and accountants and people in fancy clothes that they can hide behind. And there’s no law that says they have to tell you exactly who they are. Believe me, I’ve tried.” He stuck his hand out. “I’ve loved having you help out, Jimmy. I hope you keep working with animals, no matter what happens. Deal?”

  I shook his hand. “Deal.”

  Shep walked off to talk with some other people, leaving me and Abby standing there. I suddenly felt a little overwhelmed about everything that was happening. I had a case to solve at school, a friend who was about to fail math, another friend who I was fighting with because our pets hated each other, and my favorite place in the world was about to be turned into a shopping mall.

  I hate to admit it, but I was about to start crying.

  FACT: Boys cry sometimes, and they shouldn’t be ashamed to admit it. Although I never cry. Honest! It’s true! I swear!

  The next thing I knew, Bruno, the giant but lazy mastiff, came running over to Abby. It turned out he wasn’t lazy after all; instead, he and Abby started tearing around the training circle, nipping and yowling and chasing each other.

  Watching them, I stopped almost-crying.

  Then I smiled.

  Then I laughed for about ten minutes straight.

  VERY IMPORTANT FACT: Watching dogs play is pretty much the best cure for sadness ever invented.

  It felt so good to feel better.

  If only for a little while.

  WHO DOESN’T LOVE recess?

  Well, a long time ago, me.

  And by a long time ago, I mean last year.

  Back then, it was just me and Irwin, trying to fend off Baxter and his bully friends. So yeah, I wasn’t a huge fan. But now, it’s a totally different story. Sometimes, I’ll hang around with Irwin, Daisy, and (the new and improved) Baxter, sitting on the swings and discussing the latest bad movie or fun video game or good TV show. Sometimes, I’ll hang around with Chad Knight and the sports kids, punching each other in the arm and talking about nothing (middle school boys are good at both of those activities).

  But today, we had real business to attend to.

  CrimeBiters business.

  “Where is the best place to do this?” whispered Irwin, referring to our plan to expose the quiz thief. Irwin always got a little nervous when we were on a case.

  “Somewhere that’s crowded,” Daisy said. “And stop whispering.”

  “Stop telling him what to do,” I told Daisy.

  “You stop telling me what to do,” she told me back.

  Irwin grinned, which was his usual reaction when Daisy and I bickered with each other.

  “I don’t know about this,” Baxter said uneasily. We were glad he’d joined us, since he hadn’t shown up for after-school tutoring and we weren’t sure if he’d ever speak to us again. But apparently a good night’s sleep had softened his heart. That was the good news. The bad news was, he wasn’t exactly a huge fan of our idea.

  A bunch of kids were hanging around the playground, so that looked like the perfect spot to put the plan into action.

  “You start,” said Irwin to me, still whispering.

  “Why?” I said. “It was your idea.”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “Are you two serious? Sheesh, it’s a miracle we ever solve anything.”

  “I wish Abby was here,” I mumbled. This was the first mission we’d ever been on without her, and it didn’t feel right.

  Daisy chuckled. “Like, I’m sure the school would just let you take your dog to recess.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “So go ahead and start already.”

  Daisy cleared her throat. “HEY,” she said, really loudly, “THAT ANSWER SHEET THING IS CRAZY. DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY IDEA WHO MIGHT HAVE DONE IT?”

  “I THINK I KNOW,” I said, also loudly. “IN FACT, I’M PRETTY SURE I ACTUALLY SAW HIM DO IT.”

  “YOU DID?” Irwin said, shouting ridiculously loud. “WHO?”

  “Irwin, stop shouting like a maniac,” Daisy said.

  “SORRY!” Irwin shouted, like a maniac.

  “YEAH, WHO WAS IT?” Daisy asked.

  “I DON’T WANT TO TELL ON HIM,” I said. “THAT WOULD BE MEAN.”

  And just like that, we had our first bite. Kermit Klondike, who was listening to our conversation with his friends, wandered over with his usual annoying swagger.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Kermit asked.

  PROFILE

  Name: Kermit Klondike

  Age: Old enough to have a light mustache

  Occupation: The vice-principal’s son

  Interests: Acting tough because he knows he’ll never get in trouble

  “Oh, nothing,” Daisy said, which was our planned answer.

  Kermit snorted. “Liar! You guys were talking about the stolen answer sheet. I heard you!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  Kermit looked at Baxter and shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re actually friends with these clowns,” he said, sneering. Then he turned his attention back to me. “I heard you say you know who took it. ‘I saw him,’ you said.”

  By now, Kermit’s pals had wandered over to listen. I was either pretending to be nervous or was nervous, I’m not quite sure which. “Maybe.”

  “Well, how do you know it was a he?” Kermit demanded. “If you didn’t see him, how do you know it was a he?”

  “What does that even mean?” Irwin asked.

  “It means Bishop is lying! Aren’t you, Bishop? Admit it. You didn’t see anything!”

  “Yeah!” said one of Kermit’s friends, a wannabe bully named Carl.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I said. “Leave me alone.”

  Kermit gave me one last glare. “You’re so lucky the teachers are watching us right now. But as soon as they turn their backs, I’m coming for you.” He jabbed a finger in my direction. “You don’t want to be making stuff up about people. That can get you in real trouble, if you know what I mean.”

  He leaned in close enough that I could smell the tuna fish he’d had for lunch. Eeeeew. “See you later, dorks.”

  Kerm
it walked away with his friends, leaving the four of us standing there.

  “Jeez, Baxter, I can’t believe you were ever friends with that guy,” Irwin said, saying what we were all thinking.

  “It was a long time ago,” Baxter said.

  “Not that long,” I said.

  Baxter looked embarrassed. “Well, sor-ry.”

  Irwin shushed us. “All I know,” he said, “is that for someone who’s that scary and mean, there’s only one thing that can happen.”

  We all looked at him.

  “He’ll grow up to be vice-principal some day.”

  “HELLO? HELLO?”

  I walked in the door after school, but nobody was home.

  Not Dad, not Misty, not Mrs. Cragg.

  Not even Abby.

  “Where is everybody?”

  FACT: People always shout “Where is everybody?” when nobody is around to answer the question.

  I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cereal, and then I went into the family room, plopped down on the couch, turned on the TV, and immediately fell asleep.

  I woke up with a dog sitting on my lap, licking my face and whacking her tail against my knees.

  “Abby, off,” I said grumpily. “Off!”

  Misty came in and immediately started laughing. “Mrs. Cragg and I took Abby for a walk,” she said. “And guess what? On our way home we ran into Daisy and her new cat, Purrkins! She’s so cute!”

  Mrs. Cragg came into the room, nodding. “I have to agree,” she said, turning the TV off (my parents had a strict no-TV-during-the-day policy). “Now generally, I’m a dog person, but that was one adorable kitty cat.”

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “But what about Abby?” I asked them. “Didn’t Abby and Purrkins start fighting? Did you guys have to run all the way back here?”

  Misty and Mrs. Cragg looked at each other like I was crazy. “They seemed like friends to me,” Misty said.

  “I didn’t notice anything either,” agreed Mrs. Cragg.

  Now I was wide awake. “That’s not possible,” I said. “They hate each other.”

 

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