I am not in Four Lakes anymore.When you don’t know what to do next, you should make a list of things you know and things you don’t know. That will help you make a plan.
Here is what I know:
I am not in Four Lakes anymore.
It took eleventy-one-hundred hours to get here. Give or take.
Uncle Marty and Raina are gone.
They locked Kayla, Mom, and Dad’s stuff in a garage.
Kayla and Dad are not here.
Kayla and Dad are not THAT WORD.
Here is what I don’t know:
Where am I?
Where did Uncle Marty and Raina go?
Where are Kayla and Dad?
Here is my plan:
? ? ?
I had a plan before I got locked in that garage. My plan was to hide in the back of Uncle Marty’s van and find out where he and Raina were going next.
Uncle Marty and Raina are long gone, but maybe I can pick up their trail. Maybe I can follow it and see where they went.
I turn around and run back through the cornfield the way I came. The leaves on the cornstalks slap against my hips as I follow my own scent.
When I come out of the cornfield, I see that the people from the garage next to Uncle Marty’s are gone, too. There is nobody around.
I put my nose to the ground and zigzag around the driveway. I smell coffee and gasoline and Yuck! Cigarette butts.
Uncle Marty and Raina haven’t been gone that long. I should be able to pick up their scent.
Sniff ... sniff ... sniff ... ah, here it is! Wow, I can even smell Kayla, Dad, and Mom a little bit, too. Here is a list of everything I smell: Mom, Dad, Kayla, their stuff, Uncle Marty, Raina, the van, and the trailer. I follow all those smells down the long driveway, past all those garages and out to the road.
Hmm. Which way do I turn? The smells keep going in both directions.
Wait.
I sniff again. I don’t smell Kayla, Dad, and Mom to the right. I only smell Uncle Marty and Raina and their van and trailer.
I do smell Kayla, Dad, and Mom to the left, though. That’s the direction we came from. I probably smell them because their stuff was on the trailer when we came.
But Uncle Marty and Raina put all those boxes and furniture in that garage. The van and trailer probably don’t smell much like Kayla, Dad, and Mom anymore.
Where did Uncle Marty and Raina go next if they didn’t go back to Four Lakes?
There’s only one way to find out. Follow their scent!
I start walking. There’s a building up ahead. I can tell they’ve got eggs, sausage, pancakes, hamburgers, and French fries in there. I LOVE eggs, sausage, pancakes, hamburgers, and French fries. They’re my favorite foods!
And I am sooooo hungry. I think about stopping at that building. Just for a second. Just long enough to gobble up some eggs or hamburgers or whatever I can find. But finding Uncle Marty and Raina is more important than finding food. So I keep going.
Up one hill. Down another. I was already hungry. Now I’m thirsty. And tired.
But I can’t stop now because I see more buildings ahead. I must be coming to a town. Could it be Springtown?
I walk past a swimming pool, but the fence around it is twisted and bent. The pool is filled with dirt, leaves, and part of a slide.
There’s a BIG van parked across the street. It is the biggest, longest van I’ve ever seen in my life. But it looks nice because it has books painted on the side. I watch as people go inside the van and others come back out. At first I’m afraid that some of these people are going to try to catch me because I am walking without a human. But everyone seems kind of sad and tired. They don’t even notice me.
What’s the matter with these people?
I sniff the road. I can still smell Uncle Marty and Raina’s scent. I can almost smell Kayla and Dad’s scents, too. But I’m pretty sure that’s just wishful smelling.
I follow Uncle Marty’s scent down the street and around a corner. I pass houses that are missing roofs and part of their walls. There are Dumpsters parked in front of some of these houses. The farther I walk, the worse things look. In some places it looks like there are whole buildings and trees missing.
Is this what happens when a tornado rips through a town?
I follow Uncle Marty’s scent around another corner. There are people working on this street. Some are working on street lights and utility poles. Others are working on houses. No one is talking, they’re just working.
A lot of the houses have tents and campers parked on the front lawns. Are people living in tents and campers while their houses are fixed up?
I spot Uncle Marty’s van and empty trailer up ahead. There’s a camper in the small yard next to the van and trailer. The house behind it is missing the roof and part of the walls.
I sniff the trailer, the van, the tiny yard in front of the camper and all of a sudden my heart stops. This isn’t wishful smelling. I smell Kayla! Not her stuff, but her.
She’s here!
Well, maybe she’s not here right now. But she’s been here. She’s been here recently.
Hey, there’s a book over on the tree stump. It’s got a red train car at the top, and some writing, and a picture of a dog and four kids. I know that book! Kayla used to read it to me all the time. It’s her FAVORITE book! And it has her scent all over it.
“Kayla, are you here?” I call out. My tail is going eleventy-million-hundred-jillion miles an hour!
“KAYLA? CAN YOU HEAR ME? WHERE ARE YOU, KAYLA?”
I knew she wasn’t ... dead. I just knew it!
So where is she?
I sniff all around the yard. Around the camper. Around the broken house behind the camper. I smell Kayla. And Dad, too. I know it’s them. But I don’t see them.
“KAYLA!!!” I yell as loud as I can. “KAYLA, CAN YOU HEAR ME???”
The door to the camper swings open. A lady in a flowery house dress steps outside. It’s Grandma!
Grandma and I have never been the best of friends. We had a little misunderstanding over a slipper once. But we’re family, so I think we should forgive and forget.
I zoom across the yard. When I reach her, I throw myself at her. “IS KAYLA HERE? IS KAYLA HERE? IS KAYLA HERE?” I ask, trying to talk and kiss her cheek at the same time.
Grandma pushes me away. “Get away, Dog!”
It’s sad that some family members don’t like to be kissed by other family members.
“You do recognize me, don’t you, Grandma?” I ask. I’m not sure that she does.
I kiss her hand and her leg, then turn my backside to her so she can smell me if she wants.
“I said, ‘get away!’” Grandma cries. She waves her hands at me. “Shoo! Bad dog!”
Bad dog? What did I do?
Grandma goes back inside the camper. She doesn’t invite me in. And she doesn’t offer me anything to eat or drink. She just watches me from behind the screen door. “You go away or I’ll call the dogcatcher,” she warns.
The dogcatcher? I gulp.
“You don’t need to call the dogcatcher,” I tell Grandma. “Please, I just want to see Kayla and Dad. Are they in there? I know you know where they are. Can you take me to them?”
The inside door slams shut.
Grandma lifts the shade on the window and peers out at me. Uh-oh. Is that a phone in her hand? Was she serious about calling the dogcatcher?
I’d better get out of here.
But where am I going to go?