Clementine for Christmas

by Daphne Benedis-Grab

  They’d arrived inside the lobby and were being jostled on all sides.

  “Later,” Oscar said. He slipped through the crowd and was gone.

  THAT AFTERNOON, JOSIE headed home before going to the hospital. Her mom was only working a half day today, and she had promised to drive Josie around town to look for Clementine yet again. Josie could tell by the looks her mom exchanged with her grandparents that they all thought it was hopeless. But Josie couldn’t give up on her Clementine, not yet.

  “Hi, Mom,” Josie said, walking through the front door.

  “Hi, sweetie,” her mom said, coming down the stairs. She smiled at Josie, but Josie saw the tightness around her mouth and braced herself. What if there was bad news about Clementine?

  “I hate to ask you about this now, hon, but I got a call from the real estate agent about that apartment,” her mom said. “They need to know pretty soon if I want it. They said they’d give us until right after Christmas, but I wondered what you were thinking about it.”

  Josie hadn’t been thinking about anything except Clementine. The idea of agreeing to an apartment where Clementine wouldn’t be able to live if—when—they found her was unthinkable. But so was crushing her mom’s dream of living independently.

  Josie opened her mouth, not knowing what to say, but just then the doorbell rang. Josie turned and opened the door. And then she blinked because she couldn’t be seeing what she thought she was seeing.

  Clementine flew into her arms, furry, snowy, and wriggling with joy. Josie burst into tears as she sat down right there in the doorway so she could hug Clementine, possibly never letting her go.

  “Hey,” someone said. Josie looked up to see Oscar standing there, shifting his weight from side to side.

  “You found Clementine.” Josie gulped as she tried to make the tears stop. Clementine, ever helpful, began to lick her cheeks, which tickled and made Josie giggle.

  “Kind of,” Oscar said, now staring at a point in the distance.

  “Thank you,” Josie’s mom said. She had come to the door and was smiling down at Clementine, who gave a happy bark. Josie’s mom patted the dog’s head, then went back inside.

  Josie stood up and hugged Oscar. “Yes, thank you,” she said. “I was so worried and I just—thank you.” It wasn’t enough. She wanted to bake Oscar cookies and write poems about him and announce to the world that he was a hero.

  Oscar kept his arms at his sides, his body rigid. Obviously, he wasn’t a hugger.

  But then he cleared his throat. “Actually, it’s my fault she was gone,” he said.

  Josie took a step back. “What?” she asked.

  “She followed me out of the hospital that night she went missing,” Oscar said, the words coming out in a rush. “I knew I should have called you, but I—I needed her.”

  And now Josie wanted to bake him poison cookies and write horrible poems about him and tell the world he was a thief and a liar and a total fraud as a friend.

  “My parents are splitting up,” Oscar said, his voice cracking on the last word. “And having her with me helped so much and I just—I couldn’t tell you about it.”

  He seemed to think Josie would be okay with this, that she would understand, but he was quite mistaken.

  “Why?” she asked, the word sharp in the icy air. “Why couldn’t you tell me?” Clementine pressed herself against Josie’s legs, and Josie buried her fingers in Clementine’s downy fur.

  “I needed her,” Oscar said, like that was all that mattered.

  “I need her, too,” Josie said. “You saw how hard this was for me, and you just let me go on not knowing if my dog was okay or if she was even still alive.” Her voice broke.

  “I’m sorry,” Oscar said, looking down at the gloves he was twisting in his hands.

  “If you’d told me it helped to have her, I would have let you keep her as long as you needed,” Josie said. “All you had to do was ask.”

  It looked as though asking had never occurred to Oscar. And Josie realized why: Oscar was not an asker; he was a taker. Gabby had seen it all along: the way Oscar shrugged off hard work, the way he had to be pushed to help out with one tiny part of the Festival that meant so much to Josie. The way he just gave her a stupid nod at school, as though to say hi would embarrass him.

  “I brought you muffins,” Josie said, unable to believe she’d done something thoughtful for the boy who had stolen her dog and stabbed her in the back.

  “Yeah, that’s why I brought her back,” Oscar said. “You’ve been nice to me and—”

  “And you have not been nice to me.” Josie bit off the words.

  “Josie, I’m sorry, really,” Oscar pleaded.

  Josie was having none of it. She ushered her dog in and slammed the door behind them.

  Then she slid down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her dog. Josie was furious with Oscar, but in this moment, nothing mattered more than Clementine, wriggly and warm and utterly perfect. “I missed you,” Josie said, pressing her face against the dog’s warm middle. “So, so much.”

  Clementine gave a soft bark, as if to say she had missed Josie, too.

  “How wonderful that that boy brought Clementine home,” Josie’s mom said, coming in and crouching down so she could scratch Clementine’s ears.

  And then Josie remembered the conversation her mom had started, right before Oscar the betrayer had brought her dog home. As Clementine licked her cheek, Josie knew she had her answer for her mom.

  “Mom, I can’t give Clementine up,” she said. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but it was just so awful when she was gone and—” Josie stopped and took a ragged breath, not able to finish.

  “I understand,” her mom said quietly. She smiled at Josie. Her eyes were so sad, Josie’s insides felt squashed, as if something was squeezing them tight and not letting go.

  But as Clementine began wagging her short tail, her mouth open in her doggy half smile, Josie knew she had made the only choice she could.

  “We really need to find two more acts today,” Gabby said as soon as she arrived at the volunteer room on Saturday morning. “Like now. We only have three days left to rehearse and get everything set for the Festival.” It was only then that she noticed Oscar sitting on the chair, looking as though he’d learned he was being exiled to Siberia, and Josie standing near the costume closet, arms crossed over her chest. What was going on with them?

  Before she could ask, a fuzzy tan dog bounded over to her and yipped a happy greeting.

  “Clementine,” Gabby gasped. She bent down to hug the little dog just as the door behind them pushed open and Ms. D’Amato walked in.

  “Did I hear someone talking about the Festival?” Ms. D’Amato asked. “Because I have a surprise for you.”

  “Great,” Gabby said, trying to focus. But she couldn’t help feeling disoriented. Clementine was back, so why did Josie and Oscar look so upset?

  “I’m going to be one of your acts,” Ms. D’Amato said, grinning.

  “Awesome,” Gabby said, thrilled to hear it. Even Josie was smiling.

  “I’m not a performer, but my sister’s a bit of a ham, so we’re going to do a song and dance routine with a few of our friends,” Ms. D’Amato said. “We’re making up a silly version of ‘Twelve Days of Christmas.’ ”

  “That sounds fantastic,” Josie said, and Gabby agreed completely.

  “So does that give us enough acts?” Ms. D’Amato asked.

  “We have nine including you,” Gabby said. “But I know we’ll find a tenth today.”

  Ms. D’Amato pressed her lips together for a moment. “Maybe we can just go ahead with nine,” she said hesitantly. “I know how hard you guys have worked, and I’d hate to throw it all away over just one act.”

  “Would only nine acts be okay?” Josie asked.

  Ms. D’Amato sighed. “What’s tough is that it’s a lot of work to move some of the kids out of their rooms, and so many people come from the community. We want to make sure we have a r
eal show for them, and we’ve always had ten acts as the minimum. But I know you’ve done a lot of—”

  “We’ll get ten,” Josie said firmly.

  Gabby was shocked. Ms. D’Amato had just handed them a free pass, and Josie was turning it down.

  “We want it to be the best Festival ever,” Josie said, to both Ms. D’Amato and Gabby.

  “Ten really would be ideal,” Ms. D’Amato said. “But either way, have the names of the performers to me by the nineteenth so we can start printing up the programs.”

  “I thought we had until the twentieth,” Gabby said quickly.

  “The printer said they need it by the nineteenth,” Ms. D’Amato said. “Will that be a problem? Maybe we can find another printer.”

  The poor volunteer coordinator looked exhausted at the thought.

  Gabby was worried—they were running out of options and the nineteenth was only two days away. But she gave Ms. D’Amato her dazzling smile. “It’s no problem,” she said.

  Ms. D’Amato headed out. As soon as the door swished closed behind her, Gabby turned to Oscar and Josie. “Let’s do this,” she said.

  “Yes, but I’m not going with him,” Josie said, the way she’d announce she wasn’t going anywhere with a large rat. Clementine went over to Josie and pressed her furry self against Josie’s legs, as though to soothe her.

  “Wait, can we talk about how Clementine’s back?” Gabby asked. She’d gotten so swept up in Festival plans, she’d nearly forgotten the fantastic turn of events.

  “Yes, the person who stole her returned her,” Josie said tartly.

  “I didn’t steal her,” Oscar said, holding up his arms.

  “Then what would you call it?” Josie asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Borrowing? I don’t think so because borrowing involves asking and you didn’t ask.”

  Gabby was light-headed from all of this. “Wait, Oscar took Clementine?”

  “She followed me home,” Oscar said, pleading with Gabby to understand.

  “And you never bothered to tell Josie?” Gabby asked, hearing her voice rise but not caring. How could Oscar have done that?

  Her words seemed to take something out of him, and he slouched down. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I took Clementine. I stole her. And I’m sorry. I really am.” He sounded defeated, and Gabby was surprised to feel a sliver of sympathy for him.

  “I’m glad you can admit you stole her,” Josie said. “I’m going to find a final act for the Festival now.” And with that, she grabbed Clementine’s leash and stalked out of the lounge.

  Gabby followed, feeling as though she was going after a stranger. Where had this angry, outspoken Josie come from?

  “I’m so glad you have Clementine back,” Gabby said when she caught up with Josie.

  “Yeah, me too,” Josie said. “And you were right about Oscar. He’s a total backstabbing jerk.”

  Gabby wasn’t sure she’d ever actually said that. And she couldn’t help thinking about the sorrow in Oscar’s face. “It seems like he does feel sorry,” she said.

  “Whatever, I don’t care,” Josie said. “He wasn’t ever a real friend, not like you are.”

  Gabby considered this for a moment.

  “Josie, Gabby,” Nurse Joe called just as they’d reached the elevators. “I’m glad I caught you guys. I have some rough news: Rosie’s back.”

  Josie drew in a sharp breath, but Gabby wasn’t sure who he was talking about.

  “Rosie’s five,” Nurse Joe explained, noticing her confusion the way he noticed everything. “She has cerebral palsy, and she was in recently for surgery. It actually went well, but she’s back now with an infection.”

  “Is she up for visitors?” Josie asked.

  “I think a short one would do her a world of good,” Nurse Joe said.

  “We’re on our way,” Gabby said. The Festival was important, but this mattered more.

  The girls started back down the hall.

  “Hey, where’s Santa’s Secret Agent?” Nurse Joe asked.

  Gabby saw Josie’s whole body stiffen. “We were just going to see about signing up another act for the Festival,” she said, even though it didn’t really answer the question.

  Nurse Joe’s forehead creased, but he didn’t say anything as they started for Rosie’s room.

  Rosie’s dad was dozing in the chair next to Rosie. Her cheeks were a mottled, unnatural pink, and her hair was matted and sweaty. But her eyes lit up when she saw them. “Daddy, look who’s here,” she said. Her voice was scratchy, and her words were a bit slurred.

  “And this is my friend Gabby,” Josie said, her voice gentle. “Are you up for a song?”

  Rosie nodded, then winced as if the movement had hurt.

  Rosie’s dad, who had dark circles under his eyes, nodded, too. “A short one,” he said. “Rosie is in some pain, and she needs to rest while the medicine kicks in.”

  Gabby’s heart twisted. Rosie was so small; she should be out ice-skating with friends, not stuck in a hospital room, hurting. But Rosie smiled eagerly, and Gabby saw how much one song meant to her.

  “Is ‘Little Drummer Boy’ okay?” Josie asked Gabby.

  Gabby nodded and they began. As usual, Gabby was mesmerized by how rich and pure Josie’s voice sounded as it rang out in the small room. It was just wrong that she refused to sing in the Festival.

  Rosie sighed happily when they were done, then leaned back against her pillow and closed her eyes.

  “Thanks,” her dad said. His face moved into a shadow of a smile. “She loves it when you visit—these shows really lift her spirits.”

  “We’ll come back again tomorrow, then,” Josie said, and Gabby nodded.

  “Great,” Rosie’s dad said.

  They tiptoed out, not wanting to disturb Rosie as she fell asleep.

  “Poor thing,” Gabby said when they were back in the hall.

  “Yeah, she’s really going through a lot,” Josie said.

  They were silent for a moment, then Josie glanced at the clock on the wall. “We should get to the administrators’ office before they all go home,” she said. “Then we can come back and sing for the other kids since Oscar probably bailed on us.”

  They headed to the elevators, and Josie led the way to a large room on the first floor. Gabby focused on the task at hand as they walked into the room with its beige walls and landscapes. There were no holiday decorations, which kind of seemed like a bad sign, but there was a bowl of mints on the counter. Good thing Oscar wasn’t there to tip them over. Gabby was surprised to realize she actually kind of missed having him around, though.

  “No dogs allowed,” the woman behind the desk said. She was tall, even sitting, and her black hair was tied in a bun without a single strand out of place.

  “Oh, sorry,” Josie said, backing out and taking Clementine with her.

  “I’m allergic,” the woman said to Gabby. She was reaching for a tissue, despite the fact that Clementine had been in the room less than ten seconds. “What can I do for you girls?”

  Gabby explained about the Festival.

  “Yes, we all love going to that,” the woman said. “But I’m not sure any of us can help. I don’t like to perform, and I know Katya is very shy. I can’t imagine she’d agree to anything. And the others will be away on the twenty-fourth.”

  “Thanks, anyway,” Gabby said, knowing this was a dead end.

  “What did she say?” Josie asked when Gabby walked back into the hall.

  “It was a negative,” Gabby said. A new idea was starting to take shape as she looked at this strong, determined Josie who wasn’t willing to settle for a substandard show.

  “Uh-oh,” Josie said. “We’re really getting down to the wire. Who else do you think we can ask?”

  “Um, maybe we can think about it while we perform for the kids,” Gabby said. Her idea was beginning to take hold, and the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced it was the best idea ever.

  Josie refused to per
form with him, so Oscar was left on his own to wander through the kids’ rooms on the peds ward. By now he knew everyone pretty well, and since Josie and Gabby were singing up a storm, Oscar mostly just chatted with the kids. Which was fine, obviously, because it was easy. Sure he’d come to kind of enjoy singing, but it wasn’t like he missed it. Much.

  “Hey, Secret Agent,” Jade said as she and Ed passed. They were dressed as candy canes, and Jade was wearing tap shoes that clinked when she walked.

  “Hey,” Oscar said, thankful that at least some people were talking to him.

  He was heading over to Alison, who’d come in for physical therapy, when he felt an iron grip on his elbow.

  “We need to talk,” Gabby said, steering him into the lounge, her black boots tapping and red plush skirt swinging. He’d been taken hostage by Mrs. Claus. She didn’t let go of his arm until they were sitting on the sofa.

  “You need to make things right with Josie, and I know how you can do it,” Gabby announced, taking charge like she always did and smoothing the skirt of her Mrs. Claus costume. “But first I need to know if it’s worth it to ask you because I’m still trying to figure out if you’re a jerk or not.”

  Like he was going to have a conversation about that. But when he tried to get up, Gabby grabbed him in her vice-like grip again. “Why did you take Clementine?” she asked.

  He debated wrenching his arm free, but what was the point? She’d probably just follow him, and what was happening to his family wasn’t going to be a secret much longer.

  “My parents are splitting up,” he said, fiddling with his Secret Agent sunglasses. “And when Clementine followed me, it was easier to be home with her there.” He hadn’t expected to say so much, but she was nodding.

  “I’m sorry about your parents,” Gabby said. “You know, my aunt and uncle split up two years ago, and it was really tough for my cousins at first. But now their parents are a lot happier, and they are, too.”

  This was not helpful—nothing was going to be better about his family being blown apart. “Maybe,” he said shortly. “Anyway, that’s why I took the dog.”