“Logan!” Aggy said.
The man’s gait faltered. “What did you say?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Logan, perplexed.
Logan took advantage of the man’s disorientation to catch up with him.
“You have an accent, sir,” Logan said. “You’re an alien, are you not?”
“I don’t know why you are saying this,” the man said, walking faster, trying to get away from Logan. “It is nothing to you. Leave me alone.”
Logan persisted. “Have you been abducting dogs, sir? Can you make dogs vanish? Do you need to know their name in order to do it?”
The man looked back, alarmed, then doubled his step. He was walking as fast as he could without breaking into a run.
“Leave him alone!” Aggy called, snapping her phone shut.
“We can’t let him get away!” Logan called back. “Come on! We must follow him!”
“What about Bubba?” Aggy asked.
Logan skidded to a stop. He turned and yelled, “You said her name!”
“You can’t just leave her here,” Aggy said.
“Can you watch her?” Logan said, then shook his head, as if answering his own question. He ran back to his dog.
“I’ll bring her with me,” he grumbled, untying her from the bike rack.
“Why didn’t the dognapper take her, too?” Aggy asked.
“Maybe because she farts so much,” Logan said.
“I wish Festus did,” Aggy said with a frown.
17. The Planet Crete
Logan tried to shadow the hairy man, but Bubba hampered his stealth considerably. It wasn’t easy ducking behind trees or bushes with a large, lazy bloodhound tethered to him.
When the man disappeared around a hedgelined corner, Logan thought he might take a diagonal shortcut. He managed to penetrate the dense hedge, but getting Bubba through it proved much more difficult. By the time he had extracted her, he assumed the hairy man had gotten away. However, after he and Bubba had loped across the yard and he had burrowed through the second hedge, Logan was startled to find the hairy man standing there, waiting for him.
“What are you doing, boy?” he asked, his fists on his hips, his bushy eyebrows knitted together. “Why do you follow me?”
Bubba was still on the other side of the hedge. Logan decided she was safer there and dropped his end of the leash. He got to his feet and brushed the leaves and twigs from his clothes. He didn’t know about the ones in his hair.
“Why are you abducting our dogs?” Logan asked, jutting his chin defiantly.
“I am not abducting dogs,” the man said. “Why do you say such a thing?”
“Because you are an alien, of course,” Logan said.
“That is none of your business, young man, and you are very rude to say it.”
“Where did you come from?” Logan asked.
“If you must know, I am from Crete.”
“What galaxy is that in?”
“Galaxy? Crete is in the Mediterranean.”
“So there is a galaxy named after the sea. I did not know that….”
“I am walking away now, young man, and I do not wish you should follow me, okay? Leave me alone now.”
He turned and walked away, checking over his shoulder from time to time to see if Logan was behind him.
Logan didn’t follow, because when he reached down for Bubba’s leash, it wasn’t there.
“Bubba?” he called, peering into the foliage. “Where are you?”
“Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh,” his dog said.
She had walked away from the hedge, dragging her leash behind her, and found a spot she liked on the lawn.
“Bubba, come.” Logan commanded.
She didn’t budge.
“The alien is getting away!” Logan said.
He had no choice but to return through the hedge and collect his dog.
“What are you doing, Bubba?” he asked as he walked up to her, again shaking off twigs and leaves.
He scooped up Bubba’s leash and led her out of the yard, this time taking the path from the house’s front door. He wondered why he hadn’t done so before.
Back on the street, he heard a voice call, “Hey, Logan!”
Without noticing it, Logan had ended up across the street from Thatcher’s house, and Thatcher was on his way over.
“Where are you going?” he asked Logan.
“Perfect timing, Thatcher. The hairy man is trying to get away. He just abducted Festus.”
“Aggy’s dog? Where? How?”
“He zapped him right out of his collar. Come on. Let’s find him.”
“Uh, I need to tell my mom if I’m leaving,” Thatcher said sheepishly.
“Fine,” Logan said. “Hurry up. And do me a favor and leave Bubba at your house.” He handed Thatcher Bubba’s leash.
“Okay. I’ll catch up to you. Come on, Bubba.”
“Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh,” Bubba said.
Thatcher put her in his backyard with his dog, Bear.
“Be nice to her, Bear,” he said. “She’s old. And she farts. So look out.”
Then he ran into the house to tell his mom he was going.
“Are you sure that guy’s an alien?” he asked Logan when he caught up with him. “I see him walking his dog by my house all the time.”
“He admitted he was an alien,” Logan answered. “And look at him trying to escape. He’s clearly our dognapper.”
“There he is!” Thatcher said, pointing.
The man was a couple of blocks ahead, crossing midblock.
“See?” Logan said. “He’s jaywalking. He obviously does not respect our laws.”
“I do it all the time,” Thatcher said.
“But he’s an adult,” Logan said, “Come on!”
18. The Alien’s Son
“Where’d he go?” Thatcher asked. The hairy man had disappeared. “Have you seen him? Are we in danger?”
“He must have beamed himself up to his ship,” Logan said at last.
“If he could do that, why didn’t he do it before?” Thatcher asked. “Why did he run away? If I could beam myself up, I wouldn’t bother running away….”
“He didn’t want us to see him do it,” Logan said. “Let’s ask that kid if he’s seen him.”
They approached a boy standing in front of a small, pale green house.
“Are you chasing my dad?” the boy asked.
“Your dad?” Thatcher asked. “The hairy guy with the accent is your dad?”
“He said some crazy boy was chasing him and accusing him of stealing dogs.”
“Is this your house?” Logan asked.
“No,” the boy said. “But me and my family live in it.”
“You live in a house that isn’t yours?”
“We rent it.”
“I’ve seen this kid before,” Thatcher whispered in Logan’s ear. “Walking the same dog the hairy guy walks.”
“He must be an alien, too, then,” Logan whispered back.
“Is this a prank or something?” the boy asked. “My dad doesn’t get American pranks.”
“Isn’t he American?” Thatcher asked. “What is he?”
“He’s Cretan. He was born in Crete.”
“The island by Greece?” Thatcher asked. “Where the minotaur lived? I love the minotaur!”
“Right,” the boy said. “Most people don’t know anything about Crete.”
“I love the Greek myths,” Thatcher said. “The minotaur’s awesome.”
” Yeah,” the boy said with a curling smile.
“He’s not from Crete, Thatcher,” Logan said. “He’s the son of an alien.”
The hairy man stepped out the front door, holding a cell phone.
“I am going to call the police if you don’t leave my property at once,” he said, glaring at Logan.
“The police?” Thatcher gasped. “My mom wouldn’t like it if I got arrested, Logan. Maybe we should go….”
“Go ahead and call the police
,” Logan said to the man. “I think you’re bluffing. You don’t want the police here.”
“I am really going to call,” the man said. “You cannot harass me this way, boy.”
“Logan!” a voice yelled from down the street.
They all looked. At the intersection, Logan’s mom was poking her head out the window of her car.
“Mom!” Logan yelled back. “What are you doing here?”
She turned the car and sped toward them.
“Okay, here comes my mom,” Logan said to the man. “Now you’re in for it. My mom doesn’t mess around. She’s a life coach, and one of her clients works for the FBI.”
“A life coach?” the man asked.
Logan’s mom pulled her car to the curb and jumped out.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, rushing up to Logan and grasping his arm. “You were supposed to stay at Sandwiches. I’ve been scouring the neighborhood for you!”
“This is one of the aliens, mom,” Logan said, indicating the man standing in the front door. “He made Festus disappear. Probably Pickles, too.”
His mom looked at the man with a pained expression on her face.
“I am going to call the police!” he said, shaking his fist in the air. “Your boy is harassing me! He is crazy!”
“I’m so sorry,” Logan’s mom said, moving toward him, her hand extended, her face bright red and screwed up to show her regret.
“Mom!” Logan shrieked. “Don’t!”
“I’m Jenny Lonergan,” she said. “My son has aliens on the brain, I’m afraid.”
The man reluctantly unclenched his hand and let Logan’s mom shake it.
“He accused me of stealing dogs,” he said.
“His friend’s dog went missing recently,” Logan’s mom said.
“Two friends,” Logan interrupted. “Festus just got abducted….”
“He’s been upset about it,” his mom broke in.
“But he shouldn’t go about accusing people,” the man said.
“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. Really. I am so sorry.” She turned to Logan. “Logan, would you please tell this nice man how sorry you are?”
“For what?” Logan said. “He admitted he’s an alien.”
“He’s from Crete,” the man’s son said.
“Crete?” Logan’s mom said. “How interesting! How long have you lived here?”
“A year,” the man said. “But we lived in Wisconsin for eight years before that.”
“And this is your son?” Logan’s mom extended her hand to the boy.
“Yes,” the man said. “This is my Darius.”
“Hi, Darius,” Logan’s mom said. She shook his hand, too. His lank black hair swept back and forth with the motion. “You must be about … ten?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Logan is ten, too,” she said.
“And a sixth,” Logan added.
“And this is Thatcher,” his mom said, presenting him with a wave of her arm. “You’re all about the same age.”
“Hi,” said Thatcher with a little wave. “I’ll be ten in July. I live around the corner.”
“I’ve seen you,” Darius said. “Hi.”
There was a silent pause, then Logan’s mom said, “Well! We’re going to leave you in peace now, Mr….”
“Sarris,” the man said.
“Mr. Sarris. Once again, I am so sorry.”
She moved over to Logan and began easing him toward the car. When he resisted, she took his hand and pulled him.
“But Mom!” he said.
“Let’s leave these nice people alone, son. Come on….”
“No! Let … me … go!”
“He is very stubborn,” the man said.
“Tell me about it,” Logan’s mom said, with an affected laugh.
“He gets this from his father?”
“No,” Logan’s mom said. “From his mother.”
19. Return of the Second Dog
“Chloe’s back,” Kian said as he took his seat at the table.
The Crew, who had been chattering about Mr. Sarris, the hairy alien, fell silent.
“She just showed up in the backyard this morning,” Kian added, then folded his hands on the table and blinked twice.
“She’s back?” Thatcher asked. “Wasn’t she abducted by aliens? How did she escape?”
“I guess she was too clever for them,” Kian said with a shrug.
“Maybe the aliens didn’t like her yapping and returned her,” Logan said.
“Hey, maybe they’ll return Festus, too,” Thatcher said. “Huh, Aggy? Maybe the aliens won’t like him, either.”
Aggy kept her eyes on the pages of her book. She was rereading Ginger Pye, the story of a puppy that is stolen.
“I’m glad you got your dog back,” she said to Kian.
“Gee, thanks,” Kian said.
“He never liked Chloe very much, Aggy,” Thatcher said.
“We went to the animal shelter,” Aggy said, still not looking up from her book.
“Oh, really?” Logan asked. “Did you see any of the missing dogs on the flyers there?”
“I wasn’t really thinking about them,” Aggy said. “I was looking for Festus.”
“I should go over there with the posters and see if any of them are there,” Logan said to himself.
“Don’t you think if the owners of the lost dogs went to the trouble of making flyers, they would have checked the shelter?” Aggy asked. “It’s the first thing we did.”
Logan didn’t answer. He was thinking.
“I saw a dog I really liked,” Aggy said.
“You did?” Thatcher asked. “Boy or girl?”
“Boy,” Aggy said. “His name is Smoky.”
“So he’s gray?”
“Black. He had Lab in him.”
“Listen,” Thatcher said, rubbing his hands together, “I had an idea for how we could get all the dogs back. We build a giant dog whistle, right? The kind we can’t hear but dogs can? Then the dogs hear it, and they all come back!”
“Great idea,” Kian said, nodding exaggeratedly. “I think we should start making it right away. We could chop down a tree and carve out the middle with our pocket knives.”
“Oh, you’re going to get it!” Thatcher said, and dove across the table at him.
“Gentlemen?” Nathan said in a deep voice.
Thatcher, who had ended up on the floor, bounced to his feet, and chirped, “Sorry, Nathan! I’m focusing. I’ll produce, I’ll produce….”
20. Lair of the Dognappers
“I say we stake out the alien’s house and follow him wherever he goes,” Logan said after class. “He’s bound to head to his ship sooner or later, then we storm in and rescue the dogs.”
“He’s not an alien,” Thatcher said. “His son seemed cool.”
“Cool?” Logan said. “Cool? Tell that to Trudy. Tell it to Aggy.”
“Chloe’s back,” Aggy said. “Maybe Pickles is.”
“Yeah,” Thatcher said. “We should call Trudy.”
“It’s not our business,” Aggy said. “I wouldn’t want strangers calling me about Festus.”
“We don’t need to call anyone,” Logan said. “All we need to do is follow the hairy guy to his ship and rescue the dogs. As the Crew leader, I say we go stake out his house.”
“Who made you leader?” Aggy asked.
“I don’t think we should,” Thatcher said. “I don’t think we should bother Mr. Sarris anymore. He’s not an alien. He’s just a guy.”
“I’ll go,” Aggy said, closing her book.
Thatcher gawked at her.
“I’ll go, too,” Kian said. “I’ve never seen an alien’s ship before.”
“Okay then,” Logan said. “Let’s go.”
He, Kian, and Aggy walked off.
“Oh, all right,” Thatcher said. “I’m coming. But I’m telling you the guy’s just a guy.”
They stopped at Sandwiches on the way to see if any o
f the flyers had been rehung. They found posters with pictures of missing dogs, including Pickles, on several telephone poles. Logan tore down the few he didn’t have.
“You shouldn’t take those down,” Thatcher said.
“They can put up as many flyers as they want,” Logan said, as he filed the flyers with the others in a folder he kept in his backpack. “But we’re the only ones who can save their dogs, because only we know what really happened.”
“How do you know that?” Aggy asked. “Maybe the police are investigating, too.”
“The police don’t investigate lost dogs,” Logan said.
“No, it’s the duty of little kids like us,” Kian said.
“What if we told them what we know?” Thatcher said. “Wouldn’t they investigate if they knew it was aliens stealing the dogs?”
“They wouldn’t believe us, even though we have airtight evidence. We’re just kids.”
“Maybe it really is someone playing pranks,” Aggy said. “You know, unbuckling dogs from their collars, then rebuckling them …”
“Most dogs wouldn’t run away,” Logan said. “Like Festus. Would he have run away if some kid unhooked him?”
Aggy didn’t answer. She pulled off her backpack and took out Ginger Pye.
“It would be a really mean prank to let people’s dogs go,” Thatcher said. “You think maybe they opened Kian’s fence, too, so Chloe could get out?”
“But she came back,” Aggy said, opening her book at the bookmark.
“And blew my chance at getting a real dog …” Kian said, glumly.
“You could adopt Smoky,” Thatcher said.
“Smoky’s mine,” Aggy said.
“Nobody better try to let Bear go,” Thatcher said. “He’d tear an alien to pieces. Bear’s a maniac.”
“Like his owner,” Kian said, and gave Thatcher a loud, open-palmed slap to the back.
“Why you!” Thatcher said, swinging back, but missing.
Kian got in another quick slap, then danced out of reach.
“Will you guys knock it off?” Logan said. “We are trying to capture a squad of dognapping aliens here. And some of them live right in that house.”
They had arrived at the Sarrises’.
Thatcher abandoned the slap fight. “Darius and his dad aren’t aliens, Logan,” he said.
Invasion of the Dognappers Page 5