“You mean all I get to say is ‘ha, ha, ha’?” Aunt Alice asked incredulously. “That’s my only line in the whole movie?”
As Bruce had suggested, she was wearing her gardening gloves and a long-sleeved blouse to prevent her from having more contact than necessary with dog hair. She was also wearing a pollen mask, which was nothing at all like the wispy white masks shown in television ads. This one was huge and black, and it covered the entire lower half of her face. She looked like an invader from outer space.
“That’s the dialogue I put in the script,” Andi said, referring to her sheaf of papers. “‘Mrs. Rinkle hauls Bobby over to the toolshed and shoves him in on top of the lawn mower. Mrs. Rinkle (laughing wickedly): Ha, ha, ha!’”
“And for that I went to all the effort of carving a hole in this mask so I could talk?” Aunt Alice said. “What a waste of energy! Please tell me I’m permitted to ad-lib.”
“Of course,” Andi said, because Aunt Alice was obviously disappointed. “Say whatever you feel in your heart when you see those dogs’ pitiful faces. I’m sure it will be perfect.”
Andi was so relieved that Tim’s plan to shoot the roof-busting scene at sunrise had been successful that she would have agreed happily to anything. Shooting at dawn had proved to be an inspiration. Seeing Red Rover’s beautiful head, framed by the orange globe of the early-morning sun, rise majestically over the top of the toolshed had been an unforgettable experience.
“The first dog you shove through the door of the shed will be Bobby,” Andi now explained to Aunt Alice. “That won’t be a problem, because Red does whatever Bruce tells him. You’ll barely have to touch him, and he’ll race in that door.”
“Are you ready, Bruce?” asked Aunt Alice.
“Let’s do it!” Bruce said. He turned to his dog and commanded, “Red, door — go!”
Red dashed to the toolshed so fast that Aunt Alice had to leap to pretend to grab hold of him before he went in.
“That was easy,” she said, panting a little from the exertion. “Who’s next?”
“The next one is Lola,” Andi said, consulting her script. “This will be easy, too, since you already know her. It won’t be like grabbing a stranger.”
“Lights! Camera! Action!” Aunt Alice cried before Bruce could open his mouth. “Ha, ha, ha!”
She snatched up Lola and, holding her as far from her face as possible, began to berate her. “Ha, ha, ha, you pitiful excuse for an animal! This will teach your irresponsible owners to leave you unguarded when dog-hating Mrs. Rinkle is in the neighborhood! Ha, ha, HA!”
Her voice rose to a shriek as she thrust poor Lola through the door.
Debbie, who was waiting behind the facade to receive the dogs as they came through, snatched Lola up in her arms and cuddled her close.
“Mrs. Scudder, you scared Lola to death!” she cried accusingly. “How could you frighten her like that? She’s always thought you liked her!”
“I do like her,” Aunt Alice said in her normal voice. “I became quite fond of sweet little Lola when we used her as bait to catch the Gordon boys in their crime spree. But, Debbie, dear, movies aren’t real. I’m playing the part of someone very different from myself. If Lola wants to be an actress, she must get used to that concept.”
Bruce, who had turned off his camera when Debbie’s voice had cut into the scene, stared at Aunt Alice in astonishment.
“How did you do that?” he asked. “You turned yourself into an ogre!”
“You were incredible!” Andi regarded her great-aunt with awe. “Where did you learn to be an actor?”
“It was back when I was a private detective,” Aunt Alice told her. “Part of my job was pretending to be different people. Sometimes I would sit all evening in a nightclub, sipping a cocktail, listening to conversation at the next table. Of course, I drank only soda, because I had to stay sharp and alert, but I got a lot of valuable information that way. Sometimes I’d dress in work clothes and pretend to be a janitor in an office building and eavesdrop on financial discussions. Each assignment was different.”
“You’re a pro!” Andi exclaimed in delight. “This movie is going to be wonderful!”
Aunt Alice sneezed.
“Maybe not,” she said. “I probably shouldn’t have cut a hole in the mask, because the dander from the dog hair is starting to leak in. I’m going to sneeze again — I feel it coming — At-choo!”
“Oh, no!” Debbie cried. “And you only just barely touched Lola, who has hardly any hair at all. What’s going to happen when you have to handle the others — Trixie and Frisky and Curly — especially Curly! Curly’s owner never bathes him. Even I sneeze when I’m around Curly!”
“Then, by all means, let’s skip Curly,” Aunt Alice said. “Not to fear, my dears, I shall soldier through. However, I’m afraid that I’m going to keep on sneezing. Is there a way you can work my sneezing into your script?”
They all looked expectantly at Andi.
“I’ve changed the story so much already, I guess I can put in some sneezes,” Andi said thoughtfully. “I’ll rewrite it to say that Mrs. Rinkle isn’t dognapping because she’s evil; she’s doing it for the sake of her health. The neighborhood’s filled with dogs, and Mrs. Rinkle is so allergic to them that she’s sneezing herself to death. So she decides to collect them all and stuff them into her toolshed.”
“But then she’ll have to pack up and move,” Debbie said. “She can’t continue to live in a house with a shed filled with dogs right there in her backyard.”
“That’s true,” Andi said. “But that makes the story even better. Mrs. Rinkle moves out of the country and abandons the dogs. They’re hungry and thirsty. It’s a life-and-death situation. That’s when Bobby bursts out and frees them. If we’re going to skip Curly, the next dog through the door will be Frisky.”
Bruce started the camera rolling.
“Now it’s your turn, Frisky!” screamed Aunt Alice, grabbing the trembling animal and flexing her knees to shove him through the doorway. “You obnoxious, fluffy monster! You allergy-activating ball of dander! In you go — At-choo!”
Bruce had barely finished filming that scene when they heard the whir of skateboard wheels in the alley.
A moment later, Jerry shouted, “Gesundheit! Was that my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Scudder, doing all that sneezing?”
“Jerry?” Aunt Alice turned to glare at the handsome young man who was hanging over the gate and smiling at her angelically. “If I were you, I’d remove myself from these premises. I didn’t press assault and battery charges against your cousin, but I filed a report with the police department, and it’s not too late for me to initiate a lawsuit.”
Jerry just smiled again. “I’ll testify for Connor. I’ll say you tripped over your own feet, and people will believe me. By the way, I talked to Connor last night. He said to tell all of you hi. He can’t wait to come back to Elmwood for another visit.”
“First he’ll have to get out of the detention center,” Bruce said.
“Who said Connor’s in jail?” Jerry asked. “None of the dog owners pressed charges. They were too happy to get their pets back. Connor’s a senior at a private high school in Chicago and he’s doing great. He took the prettiest girl in the school to the senior prom, and they got crowned king and queen. He’s already been offered a scholarship to Harvard. Then he’s planning to go to law school.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Aunt Alice said. “Connor was born to be a politician. He’ll be a senator and then he’ll probably run for president. But he’s not here now, so he can’t intercede for you, Jerry, and I command you to step away from that gate. The alley is public property, but that gate is not.” She turned back to Bruce. “Now, shall we proceed with the filming? At-choo — at-choo! Come here, Bebe, you rat-fanged varmint!”
“Don’t traumatize her!” Andi cried, but Aunt Alice had already snatched up Bebe and was shoving her through the door. Bebe was long and slick, so she slid through easily, and Aunt Alice sneezed again and made a grab for Trixie.
Trixie, who had been featured in The Bow-Wow News as a “hero dog,” was determined to uphold her reputation. She barked and tried to bite Aunt Alice’s hand.
“No problem,” Aunt Alice assured the children. “My garden gloves are as tough as rawhide. In you go, Trixie, you jagged-toothed vixen! How dare you attempt to defend yourself against the mighty Mrs. Rinkle?”
Although the facade they had built blocked Jerry from view, they could hear the sound of his skateboard as he cruised the alley. When Bruce backed off to get a long shot of the toolshed, he could see Jerry’s head whizzing past on the far side of the fence, going first in one direction and then the other. He was clearly trying to intimidate Red and the other dogs, but because the dogs couldn’t see him, he didn’t produce the emotional effect he was hoping for.
It was midday by the time they completed the scenes that involved Mrs. Rinkle. Aunt Alice, obviously weary, but also looking quite pleased with herself, went home to take a well-deserved nap, and Debbie assembled her cast of extras behind the facade for the grand finale.
Red stood in front of the shed, his whole attention focused on Bruce. He seemed to understand the importance of this final scene and was determined to make his master proud of him.
“Open, sesame!” Bruce shouted, and off Red flew.
He bounded to the door of the shed, stood up on his hind feet, and seized the latch in his teeth. The door flew open, and the dogs behind it poured out. The moment they were out of camera range, Tim and Debbie grabbed them and carried them around to the back of the facade to feed them through again.
“What kind of crazy film are you making?” Jerry yelled.
Now that Aunt Alice was gone, he was back at the gate.
At the sound of the hated voice, Red gave a yelp of terror and fled to his doghouse, but for once, Bruce wasn’t worried about that reaction. Their day’s work was over and he would comfort his dog later.
He turned off his camera and grinned at his sister.
“We got it!” he told her. “This is going to be terrific!”
Bruce could not remember the last time he had hugged Andi. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever having hugged her. She was his sister. Guys didn’t ever hug their sisters!
But this was a special occasion. He hugged her now.