Harry slept through Spanish, as did most of the class.
And he slept through most of reading time. When I felt him waking up, I asked if I could go to the bathroom, and I gave him a long drink of water at the sink. I’ve heard that lots of dogs drink out of toilets, but Harry was so little, I was afraid he might fall in.
The door opened so quickly, it hit me in the back.
“Oh, sorry,” said Sarah. “Mr. Donaldson wanted me to check if you were okay, ‧cause you were taking so long.”
“I’m fine,” I said, quickly putting my own hands under the stream of water that Harry was trying to drink from.
“Or, uh, at least, well, actually …”
I changed my mind. “I’m not feeling great, actually. I think I’m going to the nurse’s office to lie down for a few minutes. Maybe this, um, dizziness, will pass. Could you tell Mr. D.?”
“Sure,” said Sarah. “I hope you feel better. It’s tacos for lunch.” The door slammed behind her.
“You might like tacos, puppy boy,” I told Harry. “But we have to make a phone call first.”
The problem with the phone booth is that it’s directly opposite from Ms. Shephard. She’s the receptionist who has a teeny office right inside the front door, and she thinks she’s paid to know everything about anybody’s business.
I ignored her snoopy smile and shut the door.
I dialed Jody’s number. After four rings, I was thinking, Duh, she’s at school, when someone answered with a hello that covered half a keyboard.
“Hello?” You could never tell from reading the word how many notes were involved. It must be Jody’s mother.
“Uh, yes, hello? I need to speak with Jody, I mean, I know she’s at school, but I need to give her a message.”
“I can take a message for you, dear.” She was practically singing. “But she won’t be home tonight. Jody is participating in a little state science fair at Putter College. The Putter College Young Inventors Competition. The final demonstrations are taking place this evening—”
“But it’s very important that I speak with her today!”
“Well, I suppose you could leave a message at the Bingham School. I don’t think the bus is leaving until after class time. Who is this, dear?”
“Thank you,” I said. And I hung up. I was sweating. Harry was gnawing on something that I couldn’t see. I carefully shifted my feet so I wouldn’t step on him.
This news was terrible. It was disastrous, horrible, calamitous. There weren’t enough words to say how completely awful this was.
I felt Harry’s tail thwacking against my ankle. I knelt down to pet him with tears prickling my eyes.
“Come on, Harry,” I said, buttoning him into my sweater again. “We have to consult with Hubert.”
I got back to class just as the lunch bell rang.
“How are you feeling, Billie?” asked Mr. Donaldson from the doorway as I grabbed Hubert.
“Much better, thanks.”
“So what really happened?” asked Hubert on the way to the cafeteria.
“There’s bad news, and there’s worse news,” I told him.
Alyssa and Megan joined the line behind us, balancing their trays on their heads.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little lovebirds!” exclaimed Alyssa in her shrieky voice. “Let’s just sit at the next table and get all warm and fuzzy….”
So much for my conversation with Hubert. I fed most of my taco to Harry by spilling it down my front. He was still buttoned into my sweater and very happy to get room service.
Sixth-graders have the outstanding privilege of being allowed to leave school grounds without a pass. This means that we tend to exit in a herd right after lunch, when we are the most hungry, and go to the deli down the block.
I paused on the front steps of the school, making Hubert stay back while I tied the skipping rope around Harry’s neck and let it trail down from my backpack in a way that looked casual but was pretty secure.
“When was the last time you played with a skipping rope, Billie?” asked Hubert, with a sneer for my plan.
I socked him on the arm.
“About three years ago,” I admitted. “Anyway, I tried to call Jody.”
I filled him in while we caught up with the others.
“You just love trouble, don’t you?” he asked. “And it loves you.”
“I’m going to wait out here,” I told him when we got to the store. “See the sign? No Dogs Allowed.”
He looked at me and shook his head before he went grumbling inside.
Less than a minute later, Harry gave such a tug on the rope that I was jerked around sideways. A teenager boy was coming our way holding a bundle of leashes connected to a pack of dogs.
Harry was so excited to see a party of his own kind that he yelped and pulled hard enough that the skipping rope came undone from my pack. It slithered along the sidewalk, following what must be a fast-running Harry.