CHAPTER EIGHT

CHEW

chew

verb \choo\

—to crush, grind, or gnaw (as food) with or as with the teeth

—to injure, destroy, or consume as if by chewing

After I changed clothes, I grabbed some sheets and made my bed—er, my mattress—and joined Mom, Dad, and Aunt Willa in the kitchen.

“I bet you’re looking forward to some good home-style cooking for a change, right Willa?” Dad said.

“Oh yeah,” Aunt Willa said. “I’ve sure missed American food.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Tonight it’s barbequed chicken and potato salad.”

We gathered around the table, Dad said the blessing, and we dug in. Aunt Willa told us stories of hiding in bushes for hours, sometimes days, waiting for a rhinoceros or leopard to show. And there was the time she saw hyenas and a whole bunch of crocodiles fight over a dead hippo.

I turned to Aunt Willa. “Remind me to tell you my dead possum story later. For some reason, I think you’ll like it.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m curious.”

After we’d stuffed ourselves, Mom brought out a pan of dark chocolate chunk brownies and sent Dad to the kitchen to make coffee. “I just read somewhere that dark chocolate can help prevent heart disease and improve brain function. So I say these brownies are health food,” Mom said.

I sure wasn’t going to argue. If eating brownies could help me get an A on the math project, I’d eat the whole pan. In exchange for an extra brownie, I offered to clear the table and wash the dishes.

I still hadn’t finished my homework, so after cleaning up, I spread my school stuff out on the living room rug and worked as Mom, Dad, and Aunt Willa drank coffee and talked. I’d completed both my spelling and social studies work when I heard scratching at the back door.

“It sounds like Chewy wants in now,” Aunt Willa said.

“I’ll get him,” I said, jumping up.

I’d barely opened the door when Chewy barreled through, knocking me over. He bounded into the living room, ears flopping up and down. I picked myself up, locked the door, and went back to join the others.

Chewy had sniffed out Aunt Willa’s location and plopped himself down in front of her. His butt was right on top of my notebook and his wagging tail sent my pencil flying across the room.

“Chewy, get off the notebook,” Aunt Willa said, pulling on his collar. He stood long enough for me to grab my stuff. I scowled at the sight of my wrinkled assignments and ran my hand over them to try to smooth out the papers.

“Sorry about that, Ella. He’s all brawn and no brain.”

“It’s okay,” I mumbled. I picked up my homework and set it on the dining room table, out of harm’s way. I didn’t want Chewy to think I was mad at him. I knelt down beside him and rubbed his ears. His back leg thumped up and down quickly.

“He does know I’m the one scratching his ears, right?” I said to Aunt Willa. His brown eyes stared at me and he cocked his head. He was cute, even if he was destructive.

“Who knows what that dog knows! I just keep him because I love him too much to get rid of him. Plus, he’s a great watchdog. I feel safe with him around. If he didn’t try to eat everything in sight, he’d be the perfect dog.”

“Is that why you named him Chewy?”

At the mention of his name, he turned around and slurped me in the face. I pushed him away in disgust and reached for the napkin next to Mom’s coffee cup to wipe dog saliva off my face.

“Yes. I have to be very careful about what I leave out. Thankfully, though, he’s never eaten one of my cameras.”

Dad reached over and scratched one of Chewy’s ears. He glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late Ella-vator. Time for you to get ready for bed.”

“Dad—you know I don’t like that nickname.”

He grinned. “I know, but you keep growing up. Get it—growing up, instead of going up?”

I smirked. “Yeah, I get it—except elevators go down, too.”

“Well, let’s hope you don’t start shrinking.” He winked.

“Can I please stay up longer? It’s Aunt Willa’s first night here.”

“And she’ll be here for a whole month. Off to bed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I gave Chewy a goodnight pat on the head and stood.

“Goodnight, roomie,” said Aunt Willa. “I’ll try to be quiet when I come in. Chewy will be, too—I promise. He can be very stealthy when he needs to be.”

I stopped. “He’s sleeping in my room, too?”

“Yeah. When I first come back from long trips, he barks all night if he’s not near me.” She caressed his face between her hands. “Such a big baby. But don’t worry. He’ll sleep on the floor by my bed—it’ll be like he’s not even there.”