Invasion of the Dognappers

by Patrick Jennings

  “I don’t know about that, sir,” Logan said, a bit dismayed at hearing this. “I think Aggy was beginning to believe me. And Thatcher definitely did….”

  “That’s not important,” the alien said, his temper rising again. “What’s important is that you chased me down and confronted me. That was too much. I couldn’t afford to let you get close enough to get a good look at me. So I removed you.”

  “But you left clues, sir,” Logan said. “My back-pack … my clothes …”

  “I am not stupid, boy. I collected your things and hid them where no one will find them.”

  “But you left the collars and leashes. Why?”

  “I left them only when taking the time to untie a leash might result in my being caught,” the alien said with irritation. “Not that I worried much. I never actually had a stolen dog in my possession. I was just an old man in a wheelchair. How could I steal a dog? The costume proved to be the perfect disguise. No one ever paid attention to me. In fact, people tended to avoid looking at me.”

  “It was a brilliant disguise,” Logan said, recalling how he had dismissed the old man without a second thought. “I commend you, sir.”

  The alien dipped his head, which Logan took to be a bow. Yes, he thought, the guy really likes praise.

  “Can I ask another question, sir?” Logan asked. “Why didn’t you take my dog? Was it because she farts?”

  “That would make no difference to us,” the alien said. “We don’t have olfactory organs. We can’t smell.”

  “Oh,” Logan said. He remembered learning once that owls couldn’t smell, which was why they could hunt skunks. He wondered if dolphins had olfactory organs.

  “So then why didn’t you take Bubba?” he asked.

  “I figured that if I did, you would redouble your efforts to thwart my plans.”

  “But you took Kian’s dog, Chloe. And Aggy’s dog, Festus.”

  The alien smirked. “I didn’t take Chloe. What an annoying little beast. She must have gotten out on her own. And I took Festus because I overheard your argument with the so-called ‘hairy man.’ I was attempting to strengthen your belief that he was an alien.”

  Logan nodded. “So now you have all these dogs, and one boy. What do you do now?”

  “I still have room for more dogs,” the alien said.

  “But dare you steal more from Nelsonport, sir?” Logan said, starting to enjoy this confrontation with an invader from outer space, the dolphinlike dog thief from another planet. “Maybe my friends didn’t believe me before, but I’m sure they do now. They will be looking for you.”

  Malice smoldered in the alien’s eyes. “If they find me, or get close to finding me,” he said, “they will end up here with you.”

  This punctured Logan’s swelling confidence. “And what would you do with all of us then?” he asked in a meeker voice. “Would you take us to your planet?”

  The alien’s menacing grin curled at the ends.

  Logan imagined his friends appearing in the hold, one by one, and how it would be his fault, how it would be because they listened to him and trusted him that they would never see their families or homes again. He thought in particular of Aggy, and how crushed she was by the loss of Festus, but how much more crushed she would be when she realized the aliens had abducted her, too, and that she would never return to Earth, and her family, again.

  And it was then, as Logan was thinking of Aggy and Festus, that a solution popped into his head.

  29. Tap Noses on It

  “I would like to make a proposal, sir,” Logan said to the alien. “But before I do, can you ask your employee to come back in here?”

  He wasn’t sure whether the boss alien had feelings to appeal to, whether he cared at all where he got his dogs or who got hurt in the process. He was resentful of Logan, had kidnapped him, and appeared poised to take Logan from his home forever, or worse. Logan thought the female would see the genius behind his proposal, because she not only cared about the dogs and about Logan, but also because she felt bad about stealing them and wanted to do the right thing.

  “Why?” the male alien asked.

  “It involves her,” Logan said, which didn’t seem true when he said it, but the more he thought about it, the more true it became.

  “How does it involve her?” the alien asked.

  “Call her in and you’ll see,” Logan said.

  The alien again huffed through his blowhole, then called for his assistant, in the usual ultra-sonic way.

  She swam in, her head low, her eyes averted. Logan could see she was afraid of her boss.

  “What if I told you there were places with enough dogs to fill this room,” Logan said, “and you wouldn’t have to steal them?”

  “Are there such places?” the female alien asked, her expression brightening a little.

  “There are,” Logan said, folding his arms on his chest proudly. “We call them animal shelters. They’re places that take in homeless or abused animals and try to find homes for them.”

  “People abuse their dogs?”

  “I’m afraid so. But some just change their minds about having a dog and abandon them. Sometimes they’re found and taken to a shelter. Other times people bring them to a shelter them-selves.”

  “Is there one of these animal shelters in your town?” the male alien asked.

  “There is,” Logan said. “It’s out near the land-fill. Too far for you to hear, I guess.”

  “Can you take me there?”

  “I could, but only if you promise me something.”

  “You want me to return the dogs.”

  “And me. Send us back, and I’ll show you where the shelter is. I’m sure they’ll have more dogs than you captured. And they’ll have cats, too.”

  “What’s a cat?” asked the female alien.

  “I don’t care for cats,” her boss said.

  “Me, neither,” Logan said.

  “How would we get there?”

  “Can’t you just beam yourself there? You know, ultrasonically?”

  “One of us would have to be there in order to do that. Sound transport requires a sender and a receiver.”

  “How do you get to town then, if your assistant stays here?” Logan asked.

  “We have portable sound transmitters that can send or receive signals,” the female alien said.

  “I’ve hidden some around town in secluded places,” her boss said. “To help me get around.”

  “Do you have any near my house?” Logan asked.

  “How do you know I know where you live?”

  “You do. You can hear things from far away. You know where I live. And I bet there’s a transmitter hidden near it.”

  An arch grin came over the alien’s face. “You are a bright boy.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “And so polite,” the female alien said. “I wish my son was as polite.”

  “I didn’t know you had a son, ma’am. You must miss him terribly.”

  “I do,” she said, and looked away.

  “Well, let’s go get those dogs and fill up this thing and send you back to him,” Logan said.

  “Wait,” the male alien said. “You didn’t say how we would get to the shelter.”

  “I’ll get you there, don’t worry. I’m bright, remember? But first you must promise to set me and the dogs free.”

  “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you won’t lead me into a trap?”

  “Because if you return the dogs, you will no longer be a dognapper. I’ll have no reason to turn you in. You can take the shelter’s dogs and fly back to your planet and find them homes.”

  “Please return the dogs, sir,” the female alien said. “And Logan, too. It isn’t right to take them. They have homes. Families. They are loved, and missed.”

  “And if no one adopts the dogs in the shelter,” Logan interjected, “they will be euthanized.”

  “Killed?” the female alien asked.

  “You’ll be
doing the shelter and the dogs a favor by giving them good homes. Even if it is on another planet.”

  Logan asked, “So do we have a deal?”

  The alien squinted at him. Logan squinted back. He worried the alien would try to take both the dognapped dogs and the shelter dogs back to his planet. He would have to proceed carefully.

  “Understand, human,” the alien said, “any time I wish, I can transport you back here.”

  “I understand,” Logan said.

  “Then we have a deal,” the alien said, and with a brisk flap of his fins, he swam up close to Logan, beak to nose.

  Logan pulled back.

  “We tap noses on our planet when we make a deal,” the alien explained.

  “We shake hands,” Logan said.

  They did both.

  30. Bubba

  The next moment, Logan found himself sprawled out on the dirt floor of an old, dilapidated shed. Dusky light slanted in through the spaces between the shed’s boards. Cold air entered the same way.

  Nelsonport had many such sheds. Long ago they had housed horse-drawn carriages. Now they stood on empty lots amid tall weeds and NO TRESPASSING signs, leaning and rotting, their roofs heavy with moss, till the day the brittle, aging nails could no longer bear the strain, and the structures collapsed into piles of splintered wood.

  Logan silently commended the alien on his choice of landing stage. The shed was so rickety no one would dare enter it.

  “Good hiding place, ma’am,” he said, his voice clear and bubble-free again, but his teeth chattering.

  Her boss had agreed to the deal, but had chosen to send his underling on the mission, too. He preferred remaining with his ship and his loot—the stolen dogs—to making the arduous trip to uncharted territory with Logan, who might have tricks up his sleeve.

  Logan was relieved to be traveling with the female alien, whom he viewed as an ally, rather than with her surly superior.

  “Thank you,” his companion’s translation device said. It sounded crisper in Earth’s thinner air.

  Logan gave her credit for courage. She had agreed to come to a foreign planet, where she was quite vulnerable, and, if found out, she could potentially never escape.

  “Where’s the transmitter?” Logan asked.

  The alien peered around the shed.

  “There,” she said, pointing a flipper.

  “That old can?” Logan asked, and picked up a tin can thick with rust.

  “No, next to it,” the alien said. “The nail.”

  Logan lifted an equally rusted nail.

  “That’s it.”

  “Stay here,” Logan said. “I need to get a few things from my house.”

  The alien’s forehead furrowed.

  “Trust me,” Logan said. “I’ll be right back. Stay out of sight.”

  He stepped outside the shed without waiting for a response and immediately recognized where he was: at the end of the alley that ran behind his house. He shot down the alley in the fading daylight, ninja-style: quiet, hunched over, trying to stay out of sight below the line of the back fences. When he reached his house, he pushed aside a big, black plastic garbage can and scaled the wooden fence to his backyard.

  The house was dark, but maybe his mom just hadn’t gotten around to turning on any lights. Maybe she was sitting on the couch, crying and praying the phone would ring with news about his whereabouts and so hadn’t noticed yet that the sun was setting. It seemed more likely to him, though, that she was out driving around the neighborhood, looking for him, her cell phone in her lap. Either way, she would have left Sloane with his grandma, who lived in town, so he wouldn’t see his mom crying and upset.

  Logan wanted very much to see his mom, but he was fairly certain she would delay him with tears and hugging, with questions, scoldings, and warnings. He couldn’t let anything keep him from completing his task. Even his mother. He was hoping she wasn’t home.

  He ninjaed across the yard to his window. It was open, as usual. He pulled himself up onto the ledge, rolled over it, then dropped, catlike, onto the carpeted floor of his room. When he rose up, he found Bubba lying on the bed. She lazily lifted her head.

  “Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh,” she said.

  Logan rubbed her shoulder. “Where’s Mom?” he whispered.

  Bubba stared right into his eyes. If she had looked away, toward the kitchen, say, Logan would have known his mom was home. That’s how close he and Bubba were.

  “That’s a good dog,” Logan whispered. “I missed you.”

  Bubba farted.

  31. The Co-operative

  Logan pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt. He didn’t bother with underwear, as he would just be leaving it behind in a few minutes. He grabbed two more shirts and two more pairs of jeans—for later—then crept down the hall to the laundry room. Through its window he could survey the front yard. The car was not parked in the driveway. His mom had gone somewhere, probably looking for him.

  Logan dug through the clothes in the drier and pulled out one of his mom’s nightgowns. He also dug out a long skirt and a sweatshirt. He ran into the living room, to the phone, and dialed a number.

  “Jenny?” the answerer asked, excitedly. “Did you find him?”

  “I’m not my mom,” Logan said. “I’m me. Logan. Don’t say my name. Are you alone?”

  “Where have you—What happened?”

  “Don’t let anyone know who you’re talking to.”

  “I’m in my room. No one can hear me.”

  “Good. Don’t talk—listen. I need your help. You must do exactly as I say.”

  “But—”

  “Silence! I’m serious. We don’t have much time. I found Festus….”

  “You did!”

  “Yes, and we can save him, but we must act swiftly.”

  “Where is he?”

  “If you promise to shut up, I’ll tell you.”

  “Okay, okay. I promise. Tell me where Festus is.”

  “On a spaceship hiding in the bay.”

  He waited to see if she would respond.

  She didn’t.

  He went on.

  “Ride your bike over here immediately. I need you to carry a transmitter to the animal shelter.” He paused. “You may respond.”

  “What’s a transmitter? Why the animal shelter?”

  “You’ll find out later. I need you to tell me you can be here on your bike within ten minutes. Otherwise I need to call another Crew member.”

  “It’s almost dinnertime….”

  “So you cannot. Okay, I’ll call—”

  “No, I’ll come, I’ll come! I’ll sneak out.”

  “Good. Meet us by the shed at the end of the alley behind my house.”

  “Us?”

  “Over and out,” Logan said, and hung up the phone.

  He hesitated a moment, wondering if there was anything else in the house that could come in handy on his mission. He knew he couldn’t carry anything with him when he transported. He grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, then snagged his rubber boots—also for later—on the way out the back door.

  As he slinked down the alley, he saw that lights were coming on in his neighbors’ houses. Logan saw the people in their kitchens, gathering for dinner.

  “After this is over,” he whispered to him-self, “me and Mom and Sloane will have dinner, too. Mom didn’t make anything, so maybe I can convince her to order a pizza.”

  That was one good thing about having a single mom. She often got so swamped with work, errands, bills, and chauffeuring, she didn’t have time to prepare a meal.

  Logan wondered about the alien’s family life, back on her planet. He knew she had a son, and that she missed him. Did she have other children? Did she have a husband—a mate? Did they live in a house? Did their houses look like Earth houses? Did they float?

  They probably didn’t have cars on her planet. Why would they need them? They could float. And transport themselves. And transport objects. They wouldn
’t need trucks or planes or ships. What an amazing world it must be. He wished he could see it.

  They didn’t have dogs, though. That would make life difficult. Maybe impossible. Not to mention his mom and brother and friends didn’t live there. No, as curious as he was about the aliens’ planet, he did not want to be taken to it. He wanted to stay on Earth.

  “My co-operative is on the way, ma’am,” he said to the alien when he was back in the shed.

  “Your co-operative?”

  “Yes. We are both operatives of the Intergalactic Canine Rescue Unit. She will take the transmitter to the animal shelter. Then you can transport us there.”

  The alien smiled. “I see. You’re very clever.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. We should wait here in the shed. If I’m seen by anyone I know, they might take me to my mom.”

  “You don’t want to go to your mom?”

  “I do, but not yet. Not till the mission is complete. She might not believe me.”

  “So my boss is right about the adults? They don’t trust children? They don’t listen to them?”

  “You weren’t there when he said that. Were you eavesdropping?”

  The golden light shone on her throat, but she didn’t speak.

  “What’s wrong?” Logan asked.

  “The translator doesn’t know that word.”

  “Eavesdropping? It means listening to other people’s conversations when they don’t know you’re doing it.”

  “I see. We don’t have a word for that. We can’t help overhearing. He’s listening to us now, I’m sure.”

  “Well, he’s wrong,” Logan said. “My mom listens. And she trusts me. Human adults are just very busy taking care of adult things, so they don’t always notice what’s going on around them, and then when we tell them what’s going on, they have trouble believing it because they didn’t notice it themselves. They think they’re smarter than us, but they’re wrong. Actually, thinking you’re smarter than someone else is a sign of lesser intelligence. If they were really smarter than us, they would know that.”

  “You’re more than clever,” the alien said. “You’re wise.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”