Maggie could let the conversation end there. She could go back to unpacking and let Mrs. Fradette sift through the mess of photos on the kitchen table. But when Mrs. Fradette holds up another photo and says, “This is the day we left,” Maggie’s curiosity takes over and she edges closer to take a peek.
The photo is black-and-white and an unsmiling mother is surrounded by three children. “That’s me,” Mrs. Fradette says, pointing to the oldest girl. She has dark curly hair parted on the side held in place with a barrette, and she’s wearing a coat with buttons. On either side of her are two younger children, a girl and a boy.
“My father tried to keep us in our home as long as he could. A wall of sandbags called a dike had been built to protect our neighborhood but the water kept rising and he got worried. All our neighbors were leaving. My dad, Uncle Wilfred, and Ronny moved all our furniture from the main floor up to the second floor. We didn’t have time to pack much, just a suitcase for me and Yvonne and one for my mother. There were so many cousins up in Laurier, my brother, Michel, could borrow their clothes. My aunt Cecile and uncle Joe had eight boys, if you can believe it.”
Maggie can’t. Eight boys?
“Dad drove us to the train station and we said goodbye to him and Ronny. Ronny wouldn’t leave. He was a Scout and was helping with flood relief.”
Maggie looks more closely at the photo. Behind Mrs. Fradette’s family, the train station is packed with people. “Your mom looks stressed,” Maggie says.
“She was! I don’t think she wanted to leave, to be honest, but it was dangerous to stay.” Mrs. Fradette hands Maggie a newspaper clipping. “This is the view from the train.”
Maggie stares at the photo. “Whoa. It’s like a lake.”
Mrs. Fradette nods. “You see? The river flowed right over the tracks. Getting to Laurier usually took four hours by train. It took eight! But it felt like eighty. Mom had packed us sandwiches and there was a family who’d left with just the clothes on their backs sitting near us. I remember Mom shared our food with them.”
Maggie hands the newspaper clipping back to Mrs. Fradette. “You must have been relieved to finally get there.”
“I suppose so, although my grandparents didn’t have the conveniences we had in the city. There was no fridge, just an icebox and a root cellar.” Mrs. Fradette makes a face. “We all hated going into that root cellar. Of course, there was no hot water either. There was a pump in the kitchen and we had to boil the well water to get it hot. Bathing was an ordeal and I think Mom just gave up on us ever being clean while we were there. Gave up on me anyways. I was a bit of a troublemaker,” Mrs. Fradette says with a wink. “She could control Michel and Yvonne. But I was a handful.” Mrs. Fradette leans in with a conspiratorial grin. “My mom was hoping the nuns who taught at St. Ambrose would straighten me out.”
“Did they?” Maggie asks, grinning.
Mrs. Fradette throws her head back and laughs. It’s a loud guffaw that makes Maggie jump. “Not one bit!”
The knock at the door reminds Maggie that she is supposed to be unpacking, not chatting. She’s made no progress on the box of dishes. “I’ll get it,” she says to Mrs. Fradette.
She’s expecting Mary Rose, or one of the other nurses, but it is Austin and Harvey. “Someone’s waiting outside for you,” Austin says. Harvey weaves in and out of Maggie’s legs, his tail wagging as if he hasn’t seen her in weeks.
Maggie pulls out her phone. Sure enough, there are multiple texts from her mom and a few phone calls. “I had it on silent,” Maggie says. She turns back to Mrs. Fradette. “My mom is here,” she says reluctantly. “I have to go.”
“Come back again!” Mrs. Fradette says. “Anytime.”
The way Mrs. Fradette moves and talks makes Maggie forget that she’s at least eighty-three or eighty-four. The dyed black hair helps, but it’s not just that. She’s still spry, unlike some of the other old people who move slowly because everything hurts. “Sorry I didn’t get more done,” Maggie apologizes.
“Nonsense. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are my dishes.”
Maggie pauses at the door. She thinks she should say something more. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Austin waiting for her. “Thanks for talking with me,” she says.
“Oh, Margaret. No need to thank me for that! One thing I’ve got lots of is conversation!” She lets loose another loud burst of laughter.
Maggie realizes that Mary Rose was right when she said Mrs. Fradette was a character.
Chapter 17
Austin
Having Harvey back feels just like old times. He entertained the old people until lunchtime. Mrs. Gustafson wasn’t feeling well, so we paid a special visit to her. Her face lit up when he walked in and put his paws up on her bed so she could pat him. Her hands are knotted by arthritis, but Harvey didn’t care. He stood patiently letting her stroke his back.
It’s funny how a little dog can help people without even trying.
He wasn’t allowed in the dining room, so while the old people ate, we sat on the couch in the foyer. He curled into a ball beside me, tired from all the exercise. I rubbed the spot behind his ears that I knew he liked. He closed his eyes and sighed, the way he used to with Mr. Pickering. “You’re a good dog, Harvey,” I whispered. Just the two of us, and this moment of quiet, made me miss Mr. Pickering even more.
We’re still sitting there when I see the SUV that dropped Maggie off pull up to the curb. Mary Rose is at the front desk. “Where’s Maggie?” I ask.
“She’s with Mrs. Fradette,” Mary Rose says.
I raise my eyebrows. Mary Rose catches the look right away.
“Oh, you think you’re the only one who’s any good with the old people?”
“I’m just surprised,” I say.
“Well, no one has left the suite screaming, so I think they’re getting along fine.”
“Come on, Harvey.” I stand up and Harvey follows me down the hallway to Mrs. Fradette’s suite.
Mom asked that morning why I was going to Brayside today. She smiled when I told her about Harvey coming back to Brayside for a visit, but also gave me a warning. “Don’t get any ideas about a dog.”
I promised I wouldn’t, but she didn’t know that ever since we’d taken in Harvey, getting a dog was all I thought about. I knew it would never happen—we couldn’t afford one, and our apartment was too small—but it didn’t stop me from wanting one. Even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t help wishing Harvey was mine.
Okay, so I’ll admit, when I knock on the door, I really am wondering how things are going with Mrs. Fradette and Maggie. Nothing against Maggie, but she looked a little nervous when she arrived. It made me wonder if she thought Brayside would be an easy place to volunteer because Harvey would be the one doing all the work.
But she’s smiling when she opens the door, and so is Mrs. Fradette, who is sitting at the kitchen table behind her. In fact, it looks like they kind of like each other. I guess Mary Rose was right.
Chapter 18
Harvey
That evening, Harvey presses his nose against the cool glass of the sliding door that leads to the backyard and growls. “What’s out there?” Maggie asks. She bends down to his level, but can see nothing. The days are getting shorter and the neighbor’s fence across the yard is barely visible in the dark. “Do you see a squirrel?”
What Harvey has seen is not a squirrel. It isn’t a chipper, mischievous creature that scampers along branches. It is a slinking, stinking animal; a thief and a brute. It is a raccoon. And this particular raccoon is looking for a place to spend the winter.
Unfortunately for Harvey, she has found it.
When Harvey is let out in the morning he can smell it. Something feral and familiar. The air is full of it. He has caught this scent before; it is lodged in his scent memory.
Harvey goes into tracking mode. Tail
up. Ears perked. He raises his nose into the air. His hair bristles with curiosity, and something else: determination. Something has invaded his territory and he wants to know what it is.
Harvey moves to the fence and sniffs along the bottom, but there is no scent. Harvey raises his nose. Whatever has been in his yard has been up there, crawling along the top of the fence. Slowly, so as not to lose track of the odor, he moves past trees and plants, until he arrives at the shed in the corner.
Harvey has never been fond of the shed. It is in a dark, shady corner of the yard under a crab apple tree. When the fruit falls to the ground, it sits and rots, filling the air with a sour smell. Inside the shed are roaring, spitting machines; their noises leave Harvey running for cover.
But this morning, Harvey has a job to do. He inches closer to the shed and pauses. The scent is all around him now, not just along the fence. The creature! She has been slinking around and the smell is so strong she could be here now. Harvey approaches cautiously. He barks to alert his Maggie.
It doesn’t matter to Harvey that it is barely seven in the morning, or that his barks shatter the neighborhood’s quiet. He is intent on warning Maggie and letting the thing know that it is not welcome in Harvey’s yard.
“Harvey!” Maggie’s mom whisper-shouts from the deck. “Harvey, be quiet!”
Harvey can’t turn around or obey the command. He must continue to bark. It is important that everyone know there has been an intruder. From a few houses over, his barks are echoed by Rosie.
Now two Westies are on the case, followed by Lola, a dog who lives behind them. And farther down the street, Gordie the golden Lab lets out a deep, rough woof. They have all heard Harvey’s insistent call to action.
“What’s going on?” Maggie says, joining her mom on the deck. She’s in her pajamas and still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
“He’s going to wake up the whole neighborhood!” Maggie’s mom says.
“Harvey!” Maggie calls. “Harvey, come get a treat!” She uses her best cajoling, singsong voice and in a short lull of barking, it reaches Harvey.
“Treat, Harvey,” she says again. “Want a treat?”
With a final rumbly bark, he races across the yard and back to his Maggie, who is on her knees on the deck waiting for him. “Good boy, Harvey,” she says, rubbing his back.
Harvey’s tail wags. He licks Maggie’s warm, sleepy-smelling skin and follows her inside. For the moment, the intruder is forgotten. The scent from outside, though, won’t be. It will lurk in the back of Harvey’s mind until the next time he is outside.
Chapter 19
Maggie
Maggie hadn’t intended on thinking about Brayside once she left. But all week, she finds herself thinking about the library, the old people, and especially Mrs. Fradette. “Did you know there was a flood in 1950? The city was evacuated,” she says to her friends at lunch on Friday.
Lexi shakes her head. “Did you know I don’t care?”
There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence at the table. “That was harsh, Lex,” Brianne says. Maggie keeps quiet. Lately, she’s noticed Lexi gives her attitude about lots of things.
“Well, sorry, but it’s just a lame thing to talk about.”
“I thought it was interesting,” Maggie says. She feels a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Or at least surprising.”
Brianne tries to bridge the gap of awkwardness by talking about the movie that opens this weekend; the one the three were excited to see. But her chatter can’t undo the damage that’s been done and it’s a relief when the bell rings for afternoon classes. “What’s with Lexi?” Maggie whispers to Brianne as they head to their lockers.
Brianne chips at her turquoise nail polish and shrugs. “I don’t know.” But Maggie gets the sense that Brianne does know. It bothers her all day and when the dismissal bell rings, she doesn’t wait for the girls at their lockers like usual. She goes straight to the bus stop and when the bus arrives, she finds a seat at the back.
Lexi and Brianne get on together. Neither of them looks for her or seems curious about where she might be. She checks her phone, but there are no texts asking where she is. Even though she is on a bus full of people, Maggie has never felt so alone. She slouches lower in the seat because now she doesn’t want to be discovered. When the bus comes to her stop, she keeps her head down and slinks out the back door. The argument, or whatever it was, will blow over if she doesn’t make a big deal about it.
For the rest of the evening and on Saturday, Maggie tries not to let her friends’ behavior bother her, but worry keeps creeping in. Is Lexi still annoyed with her? Should she text her to smooth things over? Her spirits are boosted when she posts a picture of Harvey on Instagram and Lexi and Brianne both like it. Maggie decides she’s being too sensitive. Lexi’s always had an edge to her, it’s just never been directed at Maggie before.
When Maggie wakes up on Sunday morning, she checks the notifications on her phone. There’s the usual onslaught of posts from girls she doesn’t know well and then there’s one from Lexi. It’s a photo of two bags of popcorn at a movie theater. One bag is in Lexi’s hand and the other is being held by someone with chipped turquoise nail polish. Brianne.
Maggie’s heart sinks as she realizes her friends went to the movie without her. She slides down on her bed as Harvey jumps up, ready to play, which is the last thing she wants to do right now.
Lexi posted the picture knowing Maggie would see it. She quickly checks her text messages. Maybe they invited her and she didn’t see the text? But there is nothing from Lexi or Brianne since last Thursday. Her mind spins trying to make sense of it. Had they been planning the movie night for days? Or did it happen on the bus ride on Friday? Had she been excluded on purpose, or accidentally? Maggie racks her brain trying to decide what to do. Finally, she sends a text to Brianne.
Is Lexi mad at me?
Three dots appear on her phone and Brianne’s reply comes a moment later. IDK. Why?
Maggie is too nervous to type her real suspicion: that Lexi wants more popular friends. Girls who hang out with boys and go to parties; girls who are more fun than Maggie. Maggie has seen her watching the popular girls in the cafeteria. She’s noticed that Lexi has started wearing makeup and rolling the waistband of her skirt up a few inches so it sits mid-thigh. But instead she types her response to Brianne: Just wondering, and then turns her phone off.
Lexi and Brianne are doing exactly what they all swore they’d never do: shutting one person out. At a sleepover at Lexi’s house before seventh grade started, they’d all promised they’d stay friends no matter what. It had been Lexi’s idea too. Maggie is tempted to send a text reminding the girls of their oath. But then she imagines Lexi mocking her as childish for bringing up the promise, even though it was only six weeks ago. For the first time in her life, Maggie is glimpsing how complicated friendships can be.
Chapter 20
Harvey
Getting up on a bed carrying a tennis ball in his mouth is no small feat for a little Westie. Usually this accomplishment is met with praise. But today, Maggie ignores Harvey and stares at her phone.
Harvey nestles closer to Maggie, nuzzling her leg. He wants to play. He drops his tennis ball beside her, but Maggie doesn’t notice. With a sigh, she tosses the phone onto her bed and slouches down. Harvey slides closer. “Oh, Harvs. At least you’re still my friend.” Maggie takes Harvey’s face in her hands and pulls it to her. He licks away her salty tears.
“Maggie, time to go!” her mom calls from downstairs. Maggie wipes her eyes and sits up.
Harvey knows something is wrong. His Maggie is usually bright with movement and chatter; sharp and inquisitive. But today, she rises sluggishly. Harvey tilts his head at her. “Let’s go, Harvey,” she says. “We’re going to Brayside.”
Harvey lies down in the back seat, keeping an eye on Maggie, who sits in the front with
her mother. It’s Maggie’s mom who does most of the talking as she drives. Maggie stares out the window, silent and distracted.
When they arrive at Brayside, Harvey sees the flashing lights of an ambulance. “Oh no,” Maggie murmurs as Harvey jumps out of the car, curious about the people rushing in and out. A gurney is wheeled past and Harvey moves out of the way of its wheels. All the smells and sounds disorient Harvey. He barks, overwhelmed and alert.
“Shush, Harvey,” Maggie says, and yanks his leash. When there is a break in the activity, Maggie leads him through the front doors. Compared to the busyness of the sidewalk, Brayside is decidedly calmer, but Harvey senses agitation when Mary Rose comes around the desk to greet him.
“Who was that?” Maggie asks Mary Rose. Harvey’s ears rotate to the siren, blaring again now that the ambulance is headed to the hospital.
“Mr. Stephens,” she says, shaking her head. “He just moved to the second floor.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
Maggie sighs and Harvey moves closer to her. He knows she needs him, even if he doesn’t understand why.
The front doors slide apart and Harvey catches a whiff of boy sweat and stinky sneakers. With a yip, he runs as far as the leash will let him go in the direction of the smell. Austin has arrived. Harvey jumps and licks, overjoyed to see him. Austin bends down. “Hey there, Harvey!” Harvey puts his front paws on Austin’s thighs and peers into his face. “What is it?”
“Mr. Stephens went to the hospital,” Mary Rose says.
“Oh.” Austin gently pushes Harvey off his legs and stands up. His voice is heavy now, all the excitement drained away.
“It’s good you’re here,” Mary Rose says to Maggie, but she looks at Harvey. “We can use a little Harvey love.”
Harvey Holds His Own Page 4