Her parents agreed to the adoption with so little argument that Andi was stunned. One reason was that while Andi, Bruce, Tim, and Debbie had been watching the Star Burst show at Aunt Alice’s house, Mr. and Mrs. Walker had been watching at home.
Both had been shocked by Mr. Merlin’s description of Gabby’s training program.
“That poor dog deserves some rest and relaxation,” Mrs. Walker said sympathetically. “He needs to live in a loving home.”
Gabby smiled. Now that he had stopped talking, he had become very good at smiling. He stretched his big lips to both sides and turned them up at the corners whenever anybody said something nice to him.
Even Mr. Walker, who had stated over and over, “Two dogs are more than enough for any one family,” had melted at the sight of Gabby’s smile.
“If it’s us or the pound, then it has to be us,” he said.
Red Rover, who had gotten to know Gabby during their time together in Hollywood, seemed delighted to renew their friendship and watched with interest as Tim helped Bruce build a second doghouse in the Walkers’ backyard.
The only member of the family who was not happy was Bebe, who went into a snit at the thought of having to share her mistress’s affections with an outsider.
Andi considered telling her that Gabby was Aunt Alice’s dog and was only there to visit while Aunt Alice was out of town. Then she reminded herself that she had given up lying. Lies had a way of catching up with you. Her statement to Mr. Donovan that Jerry’s hand had been smashed in a garbage disposal had caused her a lot of embarrassment.
Also, Bebe was no dummy. She knew quite well that Aunt Alice was allergic to dogs.
So Andi told Bebe the truth while she held and cuddled her.
“You will always be special, because you belonged to me first,” she told Bebe. “But Gabby is special too, in a different way.”
Bebe sulked for a while, but seemed to feel better when she realized that Gabby would be sleeping in the backyard. Andi’s bedroom closet was not large enough to conceal two dogs.
The rest of summer vacation disappeared as quickly as toilet paper when you got near the end of the roll. There seemed to be so much left, and then, suddenly, it was gone, and you couldn’t even remember using it up.
Mrs. Walker took the children shopping for school clothes, and Andi discovered that she had graduated from the children’s department to the juniors. More startling still, Bruce had to buy jeans in the men’s department. They were the smallest jeans on the rack, and he had to wear a belt to keep them up, but he needed the extra length.
Over the summer, Bruce had gotten his growth spurt.
Elmwood Middle School was very different from Elmwood Elementary. Andi found that both exciting and disorienting. There was a different teacher for each subject, and there were armloads of books to carry around, and she had a locker with a combination lock that she could never remember how to open. Arithmetic was called math, and instead of recess, there was P.E., where they had to do jumping jacks and learn to climb a rope. Bells kept ringing, and messages blared over a loudspeaker.
The whole experience was so chaotic that it made Andi’s head spin.
But there were good things, too. The best was the Creative Writing Club. Andi and Debbie had both joined that as soon as they had learned about it — Debbie because she had written the gossip column for The Bow-Wow News and considered herself a journalist, and Andi because she had been longing for such a group all her life. She felt certain her future husband was a member of the club and would eventually emerge and reveal himself. She wasn’t in a hurry for that to happen, because it would spoil the suspense, and besides, she wouldn’t need a boyfriend for at least three years. There wouldn’t be any proms until she got to high school, and she wasn’t sure she’d want to go to one even then. The thought of Sarah’s purple-sequined shoes was a definite turnoff.
One Saturday morning, a few weeks after school had started, Andi was in her bedroom, working on a project for the Creative Writing Club, when Bruce rapped on her door and said, “Kristy’s here.”
“So what’s new?” Andi called back, irritated by being interrupted at a point where words were coming easily and her story was starting to take shape. “It seems like Kristy is always here.”
She still liked Kristy but was getting a little tired of her. Ever since the night when Bruce had walked Kristy home and had not come back in an hour like he had said he would, Kristy had been at the Walker house so constantly that she had become as familiar as the furniture. All Bruce’s free time, except when he was eating or taking Red for a run, was spent doing something with Kristy. They were always working together on a photography project or studying together at the kitchen table or watching TV in the family room. Even at school, when Andi caught sight of her brother in the hall between classes, he and Kristy were usually walking together, hand in hand, like Hansel and Gretel on their way to the gingerbread house.
“She wants to talk to you about something,” Bruce said now.
“About what?” Andi asked him through the door.
“Come out and find out for yourself,” Bruce told her.
So Andi set her notebook aside and reluctantly went downstairs, where Kristy was waiting in the entrance hall.
“Hi, Andi,” Kristy said. “I’ve got a favor to ask you. There’s a very old man, Mr. Sherman, who lives at Glenn Ridge, and his mind is sort of wandering. He drifts back and forth between now and when he was a kid. He keeps talking about a dog named Silver that he had when he was seven years old. He must have had a lonely childhood. He talks about Silver as if he was his only friend.”
“That’s sad,” Andi said. The idea of it made her uneasy. She didn’t like to imagine how it would be to get so old that you couldn’t tell the past from the present. Aunt Alice was old, but that hadn’t happened to her. Andi prayed it never would.
“My mom thinks a therapy dog visit might help him,” Kristy said.
“So you’re going to take Lamb Chop?” Andi asked.
“I tried that,” Kristy said. “Mr. Sherman didn’t like Lamby. He said when he put his hand on her, it was like petting a mop. That hurt Lamby’s feelings.”
“I’m sure it did,” Andi said. She knew how easily Bebe’s feelings got hurt, and Lamb Chop was probably even more sensitive. After all, she was used to having everyone adore her.
“The way Mr. Sherman describes him, I think Silver must have looked a lot like Gabby,” Kristy said. “He was sort of a hound, but not purebred, and had floppy ears and short, smooth hair. Will you come with us to take Gabby to meet Mr. Sherman? Bruce says Gabby won’t go without you.”
“I’m not old enough to be his handler,” Andi reminded her. “Neither is Bruce. We’d have to be sixteen.”
“Not if a parent or guardian comes with you,” Kristy said. “I already asked your mom, and she said she’d be glad to. She told me that ever since she saw my video, she’s been thinking that this might be a good thing for you and her to start doing together.”
“She was probably thinking about taking Bebe,” Andi said. “Bebe loves being with people. She’d be a great therapy dog.”
“She would,” Kristy agreed. “But she wouldn’t be right for Mr. Sherman. Mr. Sherman is dreaming about a hound. If he didn’t like Lamby, he won’t like Bebe. Even with floppy ears, she’s still definitely a dachshund.”
“Come on, Andi,” Bruce coaxed. “It won’t take long. Then you can go back to your writing or whatever you were doing. Mom’s outside in the car, but Gabby’s acting stubborn. When I told him we wanted to take him for a ride, he ran into his doghouse.”
“I told him he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” Andi said.
“Then make him want to do it,” Bruce said impatiently. “He’ll listen to you, but he doesn’t seem to trust me. He’s scared, but I don’t know why. And of course he won’t tell me.”
“Please, Andi, try,” Kristy said. “This could mean so much to Mr. Sherman. He doesn’t have any family or friends to visit him. All he has are memories of his dog.”
“Okay, I’ll go talk to Gabby,” Andi said. “But I’m not going to pressure him. If he doesn’t want to go to Glenn Ridge, he shouldn’t have to do it.”
When she opened the kitchen door to go into the backyard, Red came racing to greet her. If only Mr. Sherman’s childhood pet had been a setter! Red was always eager to go anywhere with anyone, unless, of course, it was Jerry.
“Not this time, Red,” Andi told him, pausing a moment to run a hand over his silky head. Then she went to Gabby’s doghouse and knelt down to peer in at him. His nose was between his paws, and his eyes held a look of desperation.
Andi knew at once what the problem was.
“You don’t have to worry about going to the pound,” she assured him. “You belong to us. This is your home now. Red and Bebe are your brother and sister. You’re never going to see Mr. Merlin again, and we’re never going to give you away. Even if you do something naughty like pee on the carpet or throw up a strawberry sundae, we’re going to keep you forever. Do you understand?”
Gabby raised his head and stared up into her face. He seemed to be trying to decide whether to believe her.
Then, slowly, he inched his way out of his doghouse and stood up.
“We’re going to visit a man named Mr. Sherman,” Andi told him. “Then we’re going to come back home.”
She got to her feet and started across the yard.
Gabby fell into step beside her.
Mr. Sherman was alone in his room. It was a sterile room with no pictures on the walls, no books on the shelves, and no potted plants on the window ledge. He sat in a wheelchair with his back to the window. He wasn’t reading or working on a crossword puzzle. He was simply sitting there.
The door to the hall stood open.
“Who’s that?” he asked anxiously when Kristy rapped on the door frame and stepped into the room.
“It’s me,” Kristy told him. “Kristy Fernald. Remember the other day when I brought my dog, Lamby, to see you, and you didn’t like her because she felt like a mop?”
“Did I say that?” Mr. Sherman seemed bewildered. “Maybe I did. I certainly don’t like mops.”
“I’ve brought some visitors today that you might like better,” Kristy said. “My boyfriend, Bruce; his mom, Mrs. Walker; and his sister, Andi.”
“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Sherman,” Mrs. Walker said gently. Her eyes grew soft as she gazed at the man in the wheelchair.
Bruce and Andi both said, “Hello,” but it was obvious that Mr. Sherman wasn’t listening. He was in a world of his own.
“So where’s the mop?” he demanded.
“She’s at home,” Kristy said. “I didn’t bring her today.”
“That’s good,” Mr. Sherman said. “So why are you here? If you didn’t bring me Silver, it’s not worth coming here.”
“We did bring a dog to visit you,” Kristy told him.
“What kind of a dog?” Mr. Sherman demanded. “Some yappy thing with a tassel on its tail? The only dog I give a darn about is Silver.”
That was when Andi realized that Mr. Sherman was blind.
Kristy motioned her forward.
Take Gabby to him, she mouthed. She didn’t speak the words aloud because Mr. Sherman’s hearing seemed to be fine and he wasn’t eager to be introduced to another strange dog. He wanted Silver, the dog he had loved in his childhood.
Andi took Gabby by the collar and led him to the wheelchair. Gabby laid his head on Mr. Sherman’s lap.
The old man responded to the weight on his knees by reaching down to see what was there. It was the head of a dog that his hands and his heart remembered.
He slid his hands over Gabby’s sleek head, fingered the long floppy ears and the soft rolls of jowls beneath the strong jaw. He bent forward to run his hand down the long smooth back, almost to the root of the tail. Then he returned his hands to the head in his lap. He cradled that head as if it were a precious jewel.
“Hello, old friend,” he said softly. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Gabby said, “Allo.”