“Come on,” said Gramp. “I want to show you something. Before your mother gets here.”
Brady pushed back his chair from the kitchen table. His head was buzzing with Gramp’s plan. They’d been working out the details for an hour. It was perfect. It would save Brady’s life. If only he had the nerve to do it.
“We’ll go out the back way,” said Gramp.
Brady thought Gramp was joking. Then, with growing excitement, he followed Gramp out the back door. Gramp glanced from side to side like a nervous cat as he led Brady through the long grass to the old garage.
Gramp looked at Brady sideways, and for a second Brady thought he winked. “Can’t seem to remember to keep this door locked.” He pushed it open. Desert Racer gleamed in the shaft of sunlight. “What do you think?”
Brady bit his lip. He wanted to be honest. “I’ve seen it before.”
“Well, I know that,” said Gramp impatiently. “I said, what do you think?”
“I think it’s…the best racing truck in the whole world. The galaxy. Maybe even the universe.”
“Huh,” grunted Gramp. “Get in.”
He and Brady sat side by side on the front seat. Gramp showed Brady how the controls worked.
“Did you ever race it?” said Brady.
“’Course,” said Gramp. “The Desert Classic 500. Finished the whole course and came in third.”
“Wow.” Brady let this sink in. “Did Gramma know about this?”
“Nope.”
“Mom?”
“Nope.” Gramp looked sideways at Brady. “They’d have worried, see? Said I was too old or some nonsense.”
Brady nodded. Mothers and grandmothers were like that. He had a thousand more questions to ask Gramp. Like, would he ever drive it again? But something in Gramp’s face stopped him. They sat in silence for a long time. Then Gramp said, “We better go get that dog of yours ready.”
Brady’s mind shifted back to the dog show. What if the plan flopped? The kids would think he was nuts. Brady shivered. He was scared. But excited too.
Brady’s cowboy boots clicked on the sidewalk. He carried a cardboard carton. All night, Gramp’s last-minute instructions had tumbled through his mind.
Dextra had set up a long table in the parking lot behind the pet store. Ropes and orange pylons marked off a large circle. Brady shifted the box in his arms. He noticed a red pickup truck with the words “Reptile Rage” printed on the sides. “Is it okay if I leave something in the back of your truck?” he asked Dextra. “It’s for the show.”
“Sure. And since you’re the first one here, how about sorting out these ribbons for me?”
The ribbons were blue with gold lettering. Each one was attached to a cardboard tag with the category and a place for the dog’s and the owner’s names. They were twice as big as the ribbons at sports day at school. Brady laid them on the table in a neat row so the categories showed. His stomach felt hollow, and his heart thudded. The plan had seemed perfect when he and Gramp thought it up. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Dextra gave him a card with the number one on it. He pinned it to his shirt. He printed his name on a piece of paper on her clipboard. His hands felt clammy.
“Good luck,” said Dextra.
“I’ll need it,” mumbled Brady. He watched the other kids arrive with their dogs. There were huge ones and tiny ones. Some had stripes, and some had spots. Brady identified a chocolate lab, a cocker spaniel with floppy ears and a poodle with a pink bow. The parking lot filled with growls and shrill barks and excited voices.
Brady waved at Abra. He walked over to pat Cool It, who strained at his leash.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Abra.
“Everyone signed up?” Dextra shouted into a megaphone. “Okay, let’s get started.”
Brady hurried over to her side. His forehead prickled with sweat. “Can I go last?” he whispered.
Dextra nodded and called number two. A tall German Shepherd with a glossy coat and bright eyes bounded into the ring. A boy with red hair said firmly, “Heel!” and the dog moved obediently to his side.
The boy said, “Sit.” The dog dropped to his haunches, his head tilted proudly.
Abra nudged Cool It. “I hope you’re watching this. You might learn something.”
Dextra moved through the numbers quickly. When it was Abra’s turn, Brady’s chest tightened. Abra tugged Cool It around in a circle. She started to say, “The incredible, the amazing, the…” She stopped and sighed. “Oh, never mind.” She took the green tennis ball out of her pocket and threw it. “Fetch!”
The ball shot past a pylon and between a girl’s legs. Cool It dove into the crowd. After a minute he returned with a pop can in his mouth. Abra’s face was as red as a strawberry, but everyone clapped and cheered. Brady cheered the loudest. It was a great trick.
“We have one more entry,” said Dextra. She had been laughing so hard, she was crying. “And then we’ll hand out the ribbons.”
Brady walked over to the truck. His heart leaped around in his chest like a Ping-Pong ball. His legs felt like cement. He could feel everyone’s eyes burning into his back.
Slowly, he walked back to the circle.
Bump, bump, bump, went something behind his legs.
Brady took a deep breath. “Meet Log the Dog.”
The only sound was his heart thumping like crazy. He dragged a log, tied to the end of a long yellow rope, around the pylons. He had tied a blue bandana around one end of the log. Abra’s eyes were huge. Julia poked her arm and whispered furiously.
Brady wanted to sink into the parking lot and disappear. But he heard himself say, “This is Log. He’s the easiest kind of dog to look after. He doesn’t eat much, and he sleeps a lot.”
The boy with the German Shepherd snickered. Brady’s face felt like it was on fire. He talked faster. “Log is very well trained. He can roll over…” He nudged the log with his foot, and it rolled across the pavement.
Someone clapped, and a lot of kids laughed. Brady sneaked a glance at Abra. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“And if I say STAY, he never budges.”
Everyone was laughing now. The sick feeling evaporated. Brady laughed too. He dragged Log around the circle one last time. He finished by saying, “If your parents won’t let you get a dog because they bark too much, this is the dog for you!”
Dextra wiped her eyes and handed out the ribbons. Everybody got one. Cool It got Most Enthusiastic. Popsicle got Best Groomed. And Log got Most Original.
“That was a great idea,” said a voice behind Brady. He spun around. It was one of the boys from the park.
Brady grinned. “Thanks!”
Everyone around him was talking. Brady’s shoulders relaxed. This town wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe some of these guys would be interested in building the space station. He’d even ask Abra. She was pretty nice for a girl. Actually, she was great.
But first, Brady had something important to do.
“I’ll see you guys later!” he said. He raced down the street to Gramp’s house, dragging Log the Dog behind him. He couldn’t wait to show Gramp the ribbon.
He leaped up the porch steps. “Gramp!”
The house was quiet. The smell of floor polish lingered in the air.
“Gramp! Grit! Where are you?”
A cold prickle crept up his back. The house was empty. But Gramp never went out. Never.
So where could he be?