“It’s me, Winston. We’re going on an adventure!”
Amelia slipped her hands under the tortoise and lifted him up. His legs and head disappeared into his shell, and she whispered, “Don’t be scared.”
He was heavier than he looked and awkward to hold, like a bulky package. She concentrated as she carried him into the kitchen. It would be awful if she dropped him.
Gabriella was picking bright-red strawberries out of a cardboard container and washing them in the sink in a colander. If Amelia’s arms hadn’t been full of tortoise, she would have grabbed one.
“Strawberries from a client at the salon,” Gabriella said. “Winston adores them. He can have one after his walk.” She reached out and pushed the door open for Amelia.
Amelia carried Winston around to the front of the house and set him down gently in the grass. She plunked down cross-legged beside him. “Are you still in there?” she said. “Come on out. It’s nice and sunny out here.”
She saw the tip of Winston’s head first. Slowly it poked out of his shell, his tiny eyes blinking, followed by his stubby legs.
His head swiveled back and forth on his long, papery neck. Then he set off at a steady but very slow ramble across the lawn.
“Not so close to the sidewalk,” Amelia said. She picked him up and carried him back to the middle of the lawn. She thought it was a good sign that he wanted to explore. She wasn’t sure, but she figured a tortoise that was getting sick might just huddle there.
“You’re feeling okay, right, Winston? You’re not getting sick or anything?” She turned him so he was facing the house. “Go that way.”
Winston took a few steps and then veered back toward the street. Amelia crawled after him on her hands and knees and scooped him up. “You are one stubborn tortoise! Do you want a car to hit you or something?”
She stuck her legs out straight and tucked Winston in between them. He settled down to nibble grass. She ran her fingers gently over the bumps on his shell. He felt amazing. She wished someone would walk by and see them, but the street was quiet except for the distant drone of a lawn mower.
Finally she got up and said, “Strawberries! Come on. Let’s go in!”
She carried Winston inside and settled him back on his bed of hay. Then she went to the kitchen to get a strawberry.
“Cut it into pieces,” Gabriella said. “It is easier for him to eat it that way. And take some for yourself.”
It was fun watching Winston eat the strawberry pieces. He stretched his head forward, and Amelia could see his pink tongue. Every time he gobbled up a piece, she said, “Score!” and popped a juicy berry in her mouth.
After she left Winston, with a promise to take him out again soon, she hung around for a while, helping Gabriella with her coupons.
“Three coupons for Revlon under-eye night cream. It is not something I need, of course.” Gabriella sighed. “Half price. It is such a good deal. Someone should use them.”
“Mom might. She’s always complaining about the bags under her eyes.”
“This is very good then.” Gabriella handed them to Amelia. “She can take them to Shoppers. And here is a coupon for an avocado face pack. She is on holidays, right? She should pamper herself.”
“Thanks.” Amelia stood up and stretched. “I guess I better go. I’m just going to say goodbye to Beaker.”
Beaker’s head was tucked under his wing. A few sparse white hairs stuck up, and flakes of dandruff speckled his scrawny neck. A string of shiny yellow, red and blue wooden beads dangled in the corner of his cage. “Hey, Beaker’s got a new toy,” she said.
“Your mom bought it.”
“My mom did? You’re kidding.”
“She thought it would cheer him up. She went to Pets Plus. She still does not believe that Beaker is happy.”
Amelia stared at Beaker. Just like that, an amazingly brilliant plan popped into her head. She examined the idea and thought, Bingo! Her mom was spending the afternoon at Jeannie’s house, practicing massages, so the coast was clear.
“Can I borrow Beaker?”