The Thing at the Edge of Blundertown

by Jane M. Bloom

  “Where’s Angie?” Cierra asked. Raelyn rolled her eyes but said nothing.

  She counted eleven people in the room, including herself and the advisor. This was more than enough for an official club. She breathed a bit more easily. But even with 4-H under her belt and Megan, Cierra, and Mr. E sitting near her, public speaking was nerve-wracking—especially when it really mattered and there was someone in the audience who hated you. She dropped her pencil. She dropped her notebook. Then everyone introduced themselves and shared the names and types of their pets. The tally was five cats, eight dogs, two tanks of fish, one rabbit, and a snake named Armon. The group brainstormed, and there were some peculiar ideas. The skinny snake boy suggested a fundraiser where people paid for hugs from Armon’s three foot, muscular body. Mr. E diplomatically nixed the idea.

  When Rae shared her ideas about dogs, the room grew silent.

  “. . .Could we get in trouble for that?” Megan cautioned.

  “It’s not illegal,” Rae assured her. Mr. E nodded in agreement. “It’s just. . .” she searched for the word.

  “Controversial?” he suggested.

  Yes, that. A student whose cat was named Tickles stood up and silently left the room. No goodbyes, nothing. Raelyn turned to her advisor, whose head was lowered as if to say, “Don’t mind her. Carry on.”

  Cierra commented, “I’d have to ask my mom first,” and several others nodded in agreement.

  Rae found herself in defense mode. “We’re not making any big statement. We’d just be helping our own pets and other dogs.”

  A loud, clear voice turned everyone’s attention to Nori. “I think we should do it. I think what’s been happening is awful. My family—we love our Bella.”

  “Canine lover!” a blonde boy heckled. A few chuckles followed from scattered places in the room.

  “Yeah, I am,” Nori retorted, “and proud of it!” Way to go, Nori, but Rae was getting extremely nervous.

  “Ooh,” an eighth-grade girl teased, provoking smirks and a few more cackles.

  By then, Mr. Esperanza was standing with his hands in blocking position. “Let’s be open-minded. Folks have differing opinions.”

  “Right, and I’m a Canine Hater!” the heckler boy shouted. Things went quickly out of control. Several loud boos joined the mix, and Rae’s insides were scrambled. Mr. E tactfully escorted the heckler to the door. This was a voluntary club with rules of civility, he explained. The meeting tried to get back on track when Snake Boy jumped up, chanting, “Armon! Armon!” Gil was laughing in the back, his huge sneakers sprawled way out in front of him. There were three students in the room who had remained silent, and he was one of them. All three had dogs, and all were wimps in her opinion. Thanks a lot, guys.

  The meeting was adjourned and a second one scheduled for a week later, when the membership would vote on the activities.

  RAE WAS GUARDEDLY OPTIMISTIC about the second meeting. In spite of the drama, a fair number had expressed interest. Maybe they’d bring their friends this time. That was how these things worked, by word of mouth. And there were always Cierra and Megan. Who needed Angelica anyway? She waited in Room 310 with Mr. Esperanza. The chatter in the hall hit its peak and began to thin. Gil Richmond entered and sat in the same distant seat he had the week before. The same hollow formed in her gut. Occasional footsteps approached and faded.

  It was soon two-thirty. Fifteen minutes had passed. She wondered where Cierra was; she’d sounded like she was coming. So did a few newcomers, Josh and Kate. Come to think of it, though, none of them had looked her in the eye. Nori had approached earlier that day. “My parents told me to stay out of it. I’m sorry.” Even Snake Boy hadn’t shown. At 2:35, it was clear that no one else was coming. Mr. Esperanza cleared his throat and looked at her.

  “Should I start?” she asked quietly.

  He made an effort to smile. “Raelyn, there have to be a minimum of four members for a school club to hold a meeting. It’s in the by-laws.”

  “Oh.” He had told her that, she remembered. She glanced across the long room to Gil, smug in the back row, mocking her. It was impossible to pretend he wasn’t there when no one else was. She took her time gathering her things, waiting for him to leave first.

  Mr. E placed his hand on her shoulder. “You know how many resumes I sent out before I got this job?” he asked her after Gil was gone. She had no clue how many. She’d be a fool to guess. “Twenty-nine,” he went on. “But it was worth it. Because this is the best job I could ever ask for.” He latched his bag. “Kids like you inspire me more than you can know. The maturity.” He tossed his coat over the crook of his arm, an awesome smile on his face. “And the—the fresh intelligence of you kids at your age, that’s what sets you middle-schoolers apart.” She blushed.

  As they approached the door, he smiled again. “Did you know that Walt Disney was fired from a newspaper job because he lacked imagination and good ideas?” She did not know that! “Disney. My point is, don’t give up.”

  “Mr. Esperanza.” The school principal was at the door. She was wearing an orange armband.

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like a word with you in my office.”

  Mr. E gave Raelyn a wary smile and followed his boss down the hall.

  Alone on the late bus home, she didn’t know what bothered her more: being let down by friends and classmates (especially Angelica), the puncture to her pride, Gil Richmond going out of his way to torment her. And, hello—when did this whole thing become about her; wasn’t it supposed to be about poor little Penelope? Who was the big ego head now? Besides, she had no business judging the other students. She hadn’t even told her own parents about the Pet Lovers Club. She was the biggest coward of all, no different from her own folks. What goes around comes around.

  She held her chin high in school and acted as if none of it had ever happened. She avoided Angie as much as possible. And when she couldn’t, she gave her a cool shoulder. After all, it was arguably her fault. Had she been a true friend and simply shown up, others would have too; she had that effect. They would have more than met the quota. But never mind. What a joke it had been, so easy to have forgotten.

  That is, until she stopped by Mr. Esperanza’s office one day soon afterward and saw a new guidance counselor sitting at his desk.

  Mr. E had been transferred to the elementary school where he was confined to six- and seven-year-olds. He had been demoted. The fairy tale castle, a silly mirage, had vanished from the sky.

  CHAPTER 9

  A New And Improved Game Of Hide-And-Seek

  I WAS PLAYING HIDE-AND-SEEK with Jack and Penelope at the park. In real life, he made sure I was always partnered up. I would hide with Penelope and he’d find us, or Penny and I would find him.

  Well, in my dream, they were hiding together and I was the lone seeker. I covered my eyes with my hands and buried my face on the picnic table, as always—two levels of protection from cheating—and counted to fifteen. “Ready or not, here I come!” I opened my eyes. I turned full circle for a panoramic view. The park was bordered by Old Wood trees all around. I circled again, but nothing gave me a hunch or a direction. The swing set was empty, the baseball diamond abandoned. In the distance was the lonely gazebo. I scoured the trees for a hint of his red shirt, but there was nothing. No slight movement, no small yelp from Penelope. Not a soul.

  “Jack!” I cried. I called more desperately, “Jack! Penny!” But the park was empty. I had just lost them both.

  Hide-and-seek had ceased to be a game.

  Well, this was most unusual. Her doctor paying a visit? At her home, no less, and after dark? If memory served, the church bells had rung a string of times. The family had gone upstairs, and all the lights in the house were out. Penelope was well into the night shift when the doorbell rang. What a fright! Any number of dangerous critters could have been there, but fortunately, it was her beloved Doc. The strangeness of things was becoming routine, but she was unsettled by it. Her doctor had visited a
few times before with a slew of others in the midday sun, with enticing aromas curlicuing from the barbecue. But not like this. There was no doubt in her mind: This visit was about her.

  She was lying in the corner of the kitchen, keeping an eye on things. Doc looked different without his white coat, but he smelled the same. He sat in his bulky jacket next to Alpha and father in their scented slippers and bathrobes, rare attire for company. No coffee, tea, or a morsel to eat, and all three with stern, tired faces. Doc removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Her ears pricked when he spoke. Then Alpha asked him a question.

  ALPHA: But why? When?

  DOC: The end of the week. It’s too dangerous to continue.

  The father cleared his throat, but it was Alpha who spoke again.

  ALPHA: The vandalism, it’s inexcusable. But, to close your practice? I mean, aren’t you giving a handful of thugs exactly what they want?

  FATHER: (arm across the back of Alpha’s chair). Honey, I’m sure it feels more personal to Ken.

  A small sound came from the hallway. Penny glanced through the open door and saw Raelyn tiptoeing from the top of the stairs in the dark.

  DOC: It’s more than just the damage and the broken glass. It’s the citation, the exorbitant fines I’m expected to pay for the street. (Looks down at hands). Today I received notice that my license is suspended. So-called “office failure.” When they came to inspect, all of my records were in tatters.

  Rae was now at the bottom of the stairs in her airy nightgown. Tsk, tsk, the child has been sneaking candy up to her room again, Penelope’s nostrils flared knowingly. The kitchen light beamed a bright triangle into the hall. Raelyn was standing just outside of it and then did something rather curious. She crouched on all fours and began to crawl toward them. How rather interesting! She wants to get the low-down about this important visit, too, Penny surmised.

  DOC: But I didn’t come here at this late hour to talk about me. I came about Penelope.

  Bingo! It most assuredly was about her! She couldn’t resist an “I told you so” wag. She wasn’t boasting, mind you, but she did want Raelyn to know that she was the subject of this vital meeting. But her sister didn’t seem to notice. She was having trouble with four-legged travel. Her nightgown was caught under her knees and the fabric had pulled her to a halt. She released the gown and proceeded to move forward, only to get caught up in the same way. She had quite a distance to cover. As she struggled, her hair plopped in front of her face, and she looked like a mop (but no worries; she wasn’t, thank goodness). She pushed the mop of hair away and continued in this clumsy fashion toward the kitchen door. She certainly was no agile four-legged like herself.

  Raelyn was then centered in the light. Doc would see her if he looked her way, but he gave no sign. She gave up crawling. Penny watched as she stretched both arms in front of her and propelled the rest of her body forward, sliding across the polished floor—a more graceful means of travel for her. Finally, she reached the kitchen door and huddled behind it. Only then did she seem to notice Penelope in the corner. She pressed a finger to her lips. How endearing, Penny mused, as if she hadn’t been keeping Rae’s cover since the top of the stairs. She signaled twice by tail and turned back to the adults.

  FATHER: Go on.

  DOC: When are you scheduled to register Penelope?

  Again! Penny’s ears twitched.

  ALPHA: Tomorrow afternoon, why?

  DOC: Once she is registered, she’s no longer safe. You know that, right?

  ALPHA: But we have to register her. It’s the law. We could be arrested.

  DOC: There’s an alternative.

  ALPHA: (hint of impatience) What do you mean?

  DOC: (to father) Vigil, I’ve known you for thirty years. I’ve treated Penelope since she was a tiny puppy. (Yet again!) I trust I have your confidences?

  FATHER: (takes her doctor’s hand, smiles) Kenny, I couldn’t have earned my Eagle badge without you—all those crazy nautical knots. We attended each other’s wedding. (Smile disappears) Violet’s funeral. You can count on us.

  DOC: (eyes close, then open) If you register her, I can’t help you. But if you don’t, I’ll do my best to keep her safe.

  ALPHA: How?

  DOC: I’ll hide her. I can accommodate up to fifteen dogs in my cellar. Penelope can be one of them. Before the rations, I hoarded food for weeks. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best until this whole mess blows over.

  ALPHA: (gasping) Why, Doc! (throws head back, nose facing ceiling, gives little laugh). You can’t be serious? Hide our dog?

  FATHER: (squeezing the back of Alpha’s chair) What Joan means is—look, Ken, it’s a lot to process. It’s very generous of you. Can we get back to you?

  DOC: Certainly. But I can only hold her spot until six tomorrow. (Stands) I’ll be in my office, closing files. There are only a few spaces left, I’m afraid. Good night to you both, and Happy Holidays.

  Instead of leaving, he came directly over to her! He petted gently up and down her crest and withers and looked her in the eye. “Good night, Penelope.” He kissed her on the nose. Then he gave her whole body a tremendous hug and patted her mightily on the chest. She couldn’t stop licking her doctor, she loved him so!

  The father patted Doc’s back just as heartily at the door, and Doc left. Raelyn quietly skittered up the stairs. The parents retreated upstairs too, and the door squeaked shut, lights off. Penny curled up at the foot of the steps, satiated by all the attention but quite nervous just the same.

  Moments later, Raelyn’s bedroom door opened, and Penelope noticed a faint whiff of goose down. Rae tiptoed downstairs again, this time dragging an open sleeping bag and pillow. “Hi, My Lady,” she whispered. She plopped the sleeping bag down and leaned over her, resting her cheek against her fluffy neck. “How about a sleepover? It’s not Friday, but so what?” She slipped feet-first into the bag and shared the pillow with Penny. They snuggled as they always did and kissed each other good night. But Raelyn squeezed her extra tightly tonight. “I love you.” Penny’s eyelids closed. She gave a long, exhausted sigh, and her breaths deepened.

  Rae closed her eyes, too, and waited for her Glitter. The colors entered with cautious energy. The faded pinks twinkled. The grays rotated in slow, hesitant motion. Come on, you can do better than this. She watched the pastels swirl like sleepy, midnight dancers. Deep teal ripples disappeared into a murky sea. All’s right with the world, she tried assuring herself. Tomorrow would be here all too soon. It was time for a promising dream, an inspirational, somnolent tale. Time for a miracle.

  AT BREAKFAST, RAE PLEADED with her parents not to register Penelope, without letting on that she’d overheard everything the night before. Penny was trapped in her desperate embrace.

  “Raelyn, it’s the law,” her father said, taking the phrase right out of Mom’s playbook. There was no hint of recognition of his daughter’s confidences only two weeks before.

  “But why? What’s the point of it?”

  “That’s not our concern, love,” her mother said.

  Rae wanted to know, “What’s the worst thing that could happen if we didn’t?”

  Her mother wasn’t having any of it. “Frankly, I don’t want to know. We’ve been through all this. She’s a dog. A canine. . . and please lower your voice.” Her shoes click-clacked all over the kitchen as she poured more coffee, rinsed dishes, took a gulp, wiped the counter. Dad’s nose was in the morning paper as usual.

  Rae blinked at both of them, but they were all a blur. Mars to parents, she messaged via brainwaves across the kitchen. But there was no one on the receiving end. It was her last, futile attempt. Sometimes it truly sucked being a kid. It sucked even more without a brother or a best friend.

  ON REGISTRATION DAY, What a long line! Penelope waited with Alpha and Raelyn among all the other families. Who knew there were so many of us, she marveled. The mood was irritable, the air thick with anxiety and sweat. When it was their turn, the woman at the desk stamped for
ms and rattled off a series of questions without looking up: “Date of last rabies shot? Ever bite anyone? Growl?” She stamped the top of the form. “Next,” she called. They moved to the next station. “One hundred dollars,” the man bellowed. Items were exchanged. At the third station, Penelope watched a beagle and his family in front of them. The worker removed the beagle’s collar and tossed it in a box.

  “Hey!” barked the beagle. “That’s my collar! Give that back!” The worker swatted the beagle on the nose. “Hey! That hurt! What’y’do that for?” The worker hit him again. “Ouch!” the beagle cried, and was met with a third painful smack on his nose. This time, the beagle stayed quiet. The worker fit him snugly with a new collar that had numbers across it. The line moved on.

  A distant memory percolated of a mop head raining down on her muzzle. Penelope would do now what she learned to do then: She would be a very, very good girl. When it was her turn, she sat like the perfect lady that she was. The worker removed her designer necklace.

  Raelyn was hysterical. “I made that collar for her! It was a birthday present!”

  My goodness, Alpha, will you do something here? But all she did was put an arm around her daughter and say, “Sweetie, hush.” Penny’s jewelry, the elaborately woven pink-and-gold pattern with the silver name tag, was tossed in the garbage. A plastic County-issued collar was tightened around Penny’s neck. It was the same as the beagle’s but with different numbers. “It must wear its number at all times,” the worker ordered. Alpha handed the worker a bag with Penelope's belongings, including her favorite blanket, a few toys, toiletries, and a special note from Raelyn. The worker tossed the bag onto the heap behind him.

  FOR WEEKS, DOC GOODMAN’S WARNING reverberated in Raelyn’s head. She approached each day expecting the other shoe to drop, or the sky to fall. But winter break came and went. The New Year rang in without incident. School had resumed, and Penelope was still safe. Perhaps it had been all hype. Perhaps the worst was over.