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The One and Only Bob

Page 9

by Katherine Applegate; Michael Grant


  Every now and then someone whimpers or moans. But mostly, we’re quiet.

  “If you can stand on your hind legs, guys, do it. Climb on anything you got,” I suggest.

  I turn to Boss. “When I say go, I want you to climb on my back. It’ll buy you a little time, maybe.”

  “No way.”

  “Please. I need to do this.”

  Boss just stares at me. She’s so thin. I can see every rib.

  “To make it up to you,” I add.

  “What are you even talking about, Bob?”

  I look away. “I’m sorry,” I say, not sure where my words are taking me. “I could’ve . . . I should’ve saved you, Boss.”

  “Saved me?”

  “The thing is . . . I heard you on the highway. And I should’ve—”

  My voice trails off. I stifle a sob.

  “Bob, we were puppies. Tiny puppies. Don’t be ridiculous. How exactly were you going to save me?”

  “I dunno. But I should have tried.”

  “We both did what we had to do.” Boss nudges me gently. “Bob. This is crazy.”

  “I just . . . I can’t seem to forgive myself.” I whisper it, but I know she hears me.

  Beneath the water, I feel a paw on mine. “I forgive you. Okay? Not that you need it, mind you. One condition, though.”

  I nod, wait.

  “You have to forgive yourself, too.”

  Again I nod, and slowly but surely something fine and warm begins to fill my heart.

  romeo

  Before I can say anything more, Snickers calls my name. “Bob, dear? There’s something I want you to know.”

  Boss winks at me. “Listen up, brother.”

  “Um, sure, Snickers,” I call. “What’s up?”

  “Ahem.” Snickers makes a little throat-clearing noise. “I’ve kept this locked inside me all this time, but now, facing the end, I feel the need to unburden myself.”

  “Really, Snick,” I say quickly, “there’s no need for that.”

  “The thing is”—Snickers pauses for dramatic effect—“I love you, Bob. I always have. I love the way your cute little tail gets all curled between your legs when you’re embarrassed. I love the way you hum to yourself when you chew your kibble. I love the way you drool when you take a nap. I love—”

  “I think I’m gettin’ the picture, Snick. Thanks. That’s awfully nice of you to say.”

  “And?” Snickers says.

  Boss can’t hide her amusement. “Go ahead, Bob,” she whispers. “What can it hurt? We’re all gonna die, anyway.”

  “Bobbo?” Snickers calls.

  “Um, yeah. Yeah, sure. I, uh, think you’re pretty swell, too, Snick.”

  “And what is it that you love about me?”

  I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. “Well, um, those pink boots of yours, those are cool.”

  “And?”

  I swear I’m trying, but I’m totally drawing a blank. In fairness, the water’s up to my belly and my teeth are chattering so loud I can’t hear myself think.

  “And, uh . . . ,” I begin.

  “Oh, c’mon, how hard is it?” yells the bunny, who’s perched on a pile of wet timothy hay. “She’s a looker and she’s smart and she’s way too good for the likes of you. Try that, Romeo.”

  “You’re a looker and you’re smart and you’re way too good for the likes of me,” I repeat.

  Snickers lets out a contented sigh.

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Boss asks.

  I groan. “Sis, you have no idea.”

  an interesting life

  An awful noise comes, like a tree trunk splitting in two. While we watch in disbelief, a piece of the roof, the size of a Great Dane, simply vanishes. Rain gushes through the hole in torrents.

  “Boss,” I say, “it’s time. Jump on my back.”

  “And that’s a good idea because . . . why, exactly?”

  “Because maybe you’ll get your turn,” I say. “Your chance to have things go your way. I’ve had an interesting life. I want you to have one, too.”

  “Bob, at best you’re buying me a couple extra minutes,” Boss says.

  “Sis.”

  “I’m like thirty seconds older than you. You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Please?”

  “Why? Just because you’re a guy? I could take you down in a second with three paws tied behind my back.”

  “And if you get outa here and I don’t?” I continue, ignoring her. “There’s a place I want you to go. Sit on the front porch. Wait for the humans who live there.”

  “Who are you kidding, Bob? We’re both about to die.”

  “Three blocks up, four houses down on the left. Look for a big oak tree. Guy named Nutwit lives there.”

  “Nutwit.” She’s suppressing a smile.

  “Say it,” I command.

  “Fine. Whatever. Three blocks up. Four houses down. Nutwit.”

  We go back and forth like that, arguing, bantering, trying not to hear the terror of our cagemates, and I think maybe I’m starting to hallucinate a little. I’m starving and freezing and I feel kinda dizzy. All the smells and sounds are mingling together, and, crazy as it seems, I actually think I catch a whiff of Ivan.

  Well, that’s kinda cool, I think. At least I’ll be remembering my best buddy when I die.

  There are worse ways to go.

  hey

  The water laps at my mouth, foul tasting and frigid. “Now,” I say to my sister. “Get on my back now. I’m saving you, whether you like it or not.”

  Something in my choked voice scares her, I guess, because she leaps right onto my back with a horrified yelp.

  I blink back muddy water. A silver presence looms before me.

  Still, I’m not entirely sure it’s him until I get a real big ol’ whiff of banana.

  “Hey, Bob,” says Ivan.

  giant monkey and sea monster

  The screeches of terror are earsplitting. And my poor ears have endured plenty by this point.

  “Folks!” I cry. “Relax! He’s here to save us!”

  “Monkey!” screams the orange cat. “Giant monkey!”

  “I beg your pardon,” says Ivan.

  The bunny cowers in a corner of her cage. “If King Kong is here to eat us, I’d rather drown!”

  “Sea serpent!” screams the beagle.

  An arched gray trunk glides past.

  “Ruby!” I exclaim. She’s just tall enough to keep her head above the water.

  “Ivan! Ruby!” Snickers calls in a delighted voice. “Over here, dears! Long time no see!”

  “Hey, Snickers!” Ruby says.

  Snickers wags her drenched tail puff. “My, how you’ve grown, sweetie!”

  “Excuse me,” says Gray Muzzle, “but maybe the happy reunion could wait till we’re, you know, not underwater?”

  Ivan taps his chin. He’s always slow, always deliberate. I like that about the guy.

  Except when I’m about to drown.

  “We need to get all of you to higher ground,” he says at last. “But the current’s tough to fight, even for Ruby and me.”

  “There’s always the roof,” I say. “But it’s damaged.”

  Ivan nods. “Seems there’s a tree on it.”

  “Look, Uncle Bob!” Ruby says, paddling back and forth. “I’m an ele-mermaid!”

  Kid always makes me smile. “Good work, Ruby!”

  “I’ve got an idea,” says Ivan. “It’ll take multiple trips, so I’m going to start with the smallest creatures and work from there.”

  My sister gazes down at me from her perch on my back. “You actually know this . . . ape?”

  “He’s my best pal. Ivan and I go way back.”

  A long pause follows.

  “Bob,” Boss finally says, “you weren’t kidding. You really have had an interesting life.”

  to safety

  One thing about being a silverback. That strength-of-eight-men thing can come in handy.


  Ivan starts with the bunny and the dachshund, one in each arm, along with the two cats perched on his shoulder and head.

  One more trip, this time with the beagle and Snickers, and then Boss and me are on our way. Ruby holds tight to Gray Muzzle’s collar and he manages to paddle alongside her, using Ruby as ballast.

  It takes us a while to cross the street—the current’s swift, and the water’s up to Ruby’s neck in places.

  “Ivan,” I ask as we approach the other side, “did they find George and Julia?”

  “They’re okay. A little banged up, but fine. They made it safely to a keepers’ shed. Tree fell and blocked the door.”

  I choke back a sob of relief.

  “George was out looking for you when Ruby and I left.”

  “How . . . how did you find me?”

  “Ruby saw which way you were running,” says Ivan. “And don’t forget that gorillas and elephants have great noses, Bob. Maybe not dog level. But not bad.”

  “We followed your stink, Uncle Bob!” Ruby exclaims.

  When we reach the far side, I see where Ivan has deposited our fellow inmates: the parking lot of a doughnut shop. The lights inside are off, like everywhere else, but I glimpse a few flickering candles, and people are milling about.

  “C’mon, everybody,” Ivan calls. “Let’s get you inside. I’m hoping these folks won’t mind a bit of company.”

  As we gather at the entrance, Boss pauses. “I’m, uh, gonna head out,” she says, avoiding my gaze.

  “What?” I demand. “I just found you! You can’t leave now!”

  She hesitates. “The puppy. Thought maybe I’d check. I mean, I know he’s probably . . . gone.” She looks at the muddy pavement. “It’s crazy, I know.”

  “Yes,” I say firmly. “It is crazy. Besides, you’re too weak. And your paw is injured.” My voice grows urgent. “Think about it, Boss. What are the odds he stayed in that car and waited for you? Who knows where he is by now?”

  “Yeah.” She looks defeated. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “What’s wrong, Bob?” Ivan asks.

  “My sister—”

  “Whoa! Wait! This is your sister, Uncle Bob?” Ruby interrupts, turning to Boss. “Then that means you’re my aunt!”

  “Boss had—has—a puppy,” I explain. “Stuck in a car near the bridge.” I point with my nose. Ivan doesn’t know his way around town the way I do. “That way. Not far. She wants to try to find him, but, well, you know . . . he’s probably long gone by now.”

  I know my words are harsh, but I’m trying to protect Boss.

  No way that puppy is still alive.

  Ivan strokes his chin. “Why don’t we get everyone settled inside?” he suggests. “Then we can figure this out.”

  “Never mind,” Boss says. “Bob’s right. It’s nuts. Way too dangerous. And probably too late, anyway.” She takes a deep breath. “He’s not exactly the first pup I’ve lost. You’d think I’d be used to this by now, wouldn’t you?”

  I don’t know what to say. I want to make her pain go away. But what can I do?

  I’m no bigger than Boss is, and certainly no smarter. And I’ve got my own problems. My busted nose, my aching foot. My angry stomach.

  Look out for numero uno. That’s my motto for a reason. It’s kept me alive this long.

  then, to my surprise

  Some fool blurts, “I’ll go find him.”

  And apparently it’s me.

  yay

  “We’ll go,” Ivan says.

  “Yay! More swimming!” Ruby cries.

  “It’s not safe, Ruby,” I say. “You have to stay here. I promised Akello I’d watch out for you.”

  “I made it this far,” she says, donning her elephant pout face.

  Ivan and I sigh. It’s exhausting, all this responsibility, this worry. This love.

  “Promise to stay close?” I ask.

  She holds up her trunk. “Elephant’s honor.”

  “’Cause Akello will make dog soup outa me if anything happens to you.”

  “Yuck!” Ruby giggles. “Hey, did you know I can almost do a somersault in the water, Uncle Bob?”

  Ivan taps politely on the door to the doughnut shop. But even a polite knock from a gorilla sounds like a visit from a wrecking ball.

  The door opens a crack.

  I think two or three people may have fainted, but we can’t stay to find out.

  I hop onto Ivan’s shoulder, and the three of us head off. I glance behind me to see Boss standing on the pavement, watching us.

  In the darkness and rain I can’t read her eyes. But I’d like to think there’s hope in them.

  traffic stop

  We slog up a slight hill and round a corner. The traffic lights are out, and nobody seems to be on the streets—that is, until we cut through a stand of palm trees and come across some police officers in a slow-moving squad car, its blue and red lights circling.

  “Attention,” one of the officers announces over a loudspeaker. “This area is under a mandatory evacuation order. Do not—”

  The announcement stops, and so does the car.

  “Uh-oh,” says Ruby.

  “I think they spotted us,” I say.

  “We’re kind of hard to miss,” Ivan points out.

  The car moves closer, so close that I can see dropped jaws and bulging eyes.

  The car brakes to a stop. The driver’s side door flies open and one of the officers jumps out.

  The other officer, a skinny young guy, follows suit, but he looks annoyed. “What are you doing?” he says. “Don’t be a hero! We coulda stayed in the car where it’s safe.”

  “I am looking,” says the driver into her radio receiver, “at a gorilla and an elephant, and the gorilla has a tiny dog on his shoulder, and no, I have not been drinking.”

  “They said the park got hit by the tornado,” says the skinny officer, carefully aiming his pistol.

  “We can’t exactly shoot a gorilla,” the driver says, and I like the way she’s thinking.

  “Try me.”

  “What’s his crime, exactly?”

  “Jaywalking?”

  “Thing is, I love elephants,” says the driver. “My daughter collects stuffed elephants. I mean, you know. Stuffed toys. Not stuffed real ones.” She listens to her radio for a moment.

  “Get animal control out here,” says the skinny officer. “Get a van. Get a moving truck. Get a 747, I don’t care.”

  “Ivan,” I whisper in his ear, “this is not looking good. You and Ruby gotta stay put. Don’t make any sudden moves. No funny business, okay? These guys are freaking out.”

  Ivan sits down on the ground. Slowly. Very, very slowly. Ruby settles next to him.

  The driver smiles. “Aww, that’s so cute.”

  Skinny officer nods. “Yeah, in a deadly kind of way.”

  “I gotta do this,” I say to my friends. “If you stay calm, they won’t mess with you.”

  “But Bob.” Worry clouds Ivan’s face. “You need us.”

  “What I need is for you to stay alive,” I reply.

  I can see he isn’t going to listen to reason, so I try a different approach.

  “Ivan,” I say, “it’s like this. Boss is my sister. I let her down once, and now, well, I have a second chance. I’ll explain it all later, but . . . I need to do this.”

  Ivan looks at the officers, guns drawn, then nods. “You are the one and only Bob,” he says. “You got this, pal.”

  I leap into the air, into the vast unknown, just like Kimu did.

  Well, maybe not quite so elegantly, but I do my best.

  lightning and fireworks

  It isn’t far to the bridge. But far is relative when the wind is blowing down houses like the big, bad wolf.

  I watch a stop sign fly past. I navigate around trees scattered like Popsicle sticks. I keep an eye out for gators and pythons.

  Lightning strikes a tree. I brace for the thunder. It shakes the earth, the air, my teeth, my bon
es.

  A branch falls on a power line. Sparks dance like fireworks.

  I hate fireworks.

  I move with more care after that. I know enough to stay away from downed power lines, thanks to the weather channel and Storm Chasers.

  Man, I love TV. I’d give anything to be watching it from my nice, cozy bed right about now.

  Good thing I know where the bridge is. My swollen nose throbs. What’s the point in owning a top-of-the-line sniffer if it’s not working right?

  When I pass a bird’s nest on the ground, I offer to help the owner, a jay. She swears at me. At least I think she does. I hear “nuts” and some other interesting words.

  I tend to forget that in some circles, dogs are considered predators.

  I wonder how Kimu and the other escapees are doing. One thing I know for sure, having been on the inside and the outside, is that way too much of the world ain’t made for wild animals.

  How would a meerkat cross a highway? How would a panther face down a city block? How would a wolf survive an encounter with a gun?

  For that matter, who do I think I am, playing hero? Nutwit was right. I’m soft. I’m slow. I’m not a street dog anymore. I’m a pampered, lazy pooch.

  I hear the rush of water, a different sound from the pouring rain, and out of nowhere, there it is: the creek.

  Boss mentioned that the car was near the bridge. But when I get close, I remember what the officer at the shelter said. The bridge had collapsed.

  And then I see it.

  A little car, round topped, floating, caught in a dislodged tree at the edge of the roaring creek, not far from the crumbled remains of the bridge.

  And on top of that car, even though it’s completely impossible, is a puppy.

  Waiting.

  And all I can think is: That dog is a nincompoop.

  another bridge

  The creek is filled with pieces of trees, boards, trash cans, plastic chairs, everything you can imagine. It’s moving way too fast for me to try to cross.

  I stare at the far side of the creek, at the collapsed bridge. I really wish I hadn’t seen that puppy.

 

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