Chapter 17

Across the Channel

It’s cold.” Calico shivered and dug her claws deeper into his shoulders.

“Try being the one in the water,” Tramp said. It was cold and he had to swing his legs slower than he wanted to just to keep Calico from rolling off and dragging them both to the bottom of the channel.

“It’s cold,” Calico gurgled and started to stand up.

“Don’t try to stand—” He didn’t finish as they rolled to the right and under the black water.

Tramp twisted as hard as he could and kept the roll going until he heard her gasping. “I shouldn’t have tried that,” she said and pulled her body closer to his.

Tramp was fine with the water, his ancestry included water dogs. It was the lack of air in his lungs he didn’t like.

“Stay still. We’re almost there,” he gasped.

What had taken a few minutes to swim on the way over to the island, now seemed to take hours. Finally, they were almost to shore. “Almost there,” said Tramp as his paws found the muddy shore of Carp Beach right next to a really tempting dead carp whose eyes were still open.

“Ugh, what’s that smell?” Calico asked.

“Don’t you know about Carp Delight,” he said, trying to raise her spirits.

“It’s a dead fish? You really have strange tastes,” she said.

He crawled as quickly as he could, given the fact that he had a panicky cat with long claws clinging to his back. He made it up the bank and onto a patch of green grass, shining in the first moonlight of the night. He stopped next to a vacant park bench.

“Where are we?” Calico asked.

“Safe. You can let go now,” Tramp gasped.

“Thanks for the ride,” Calico said as she slid off his back, allowing him to breathe a little, her claws still embedded in his shoulders.

“Claws too. You’re on dry land,” he said.

“Right,” she said and let go. She shook and shook, sending water flying.

Tramp shook, moaning a bit, the pain of her claws still hurting his shoulders. He sent water, twigs, sand, carp scales, and a little blood, into the air.

“Hey, watch where you’re sending that stuff,” Calico said.

He ignored the comment and pushed her towards the wide boulevard separating the lake from his street. “We have to get home,” he said as he looked both ways. The throaty sound of the Mustang confirmed that Emmett was out looking. He was cruising slowly, yelling at the people walking about his missing dog.

“Now, across the boulevard,” Tramp said and pushed Calico most of the way. They took the first right turn into the alley that ran behind the houses on his block. His garage was the fifth one from the corner.

“Stay in the shadows. Get as close to the garage wall as you can,” he said and pushed her against the side of the White’s garage just as a set of headlights passed slowly by, headed for the lake. It was Emmett, for the fifth time.

“Hey, Tramp, out pretty late again, aren’t ya?” the poodle across the alley from the Smith’s garage taunted him as she stood at her gate. Suzette was beautiful, way out of his league. “Who’s that scrawny cat with you?”

Calico’s back rose, and she started to hiss. Tramp pushed her harder into the garage wall and said to Suzette, “Just a friend.”

“Dogs can’t be friends with cats!” Suzette turned and headed for her kitchen door.

Tramp kept going and turned into the narrow space between the Taylor’s and the Robertson’s garages. It was filled with kids’ toys and the dad’s tools tossed in by neighborhood kids and dads.

“You have to stay outside tonight. I’m sorry I can’t take you into the house.”

“But I’m not an outside cat. Please, can’t I go with you?” Calico asked.

Tramp knew that wouldn’t work. “It’s just for one night. There’s plenty of protection. Just crawl under this black, round, metal thing. They used it for barbecues until a couple of dog friends and I knocked it over playing chase. I watched Mr. Taylor throw it in here and smile. ‘Needed a new one. Way to go, Tramp.’”

Tramp knew Calico was too tired to argue as she slid under the protective shell.

He went directly to the back door of his house, scratched, then headed to the basement without arguing. He would go back first thing in the morning. Maybe Colin would help. He figured a good detective dog could get his people to understand when he needed help. That was part of solving problems, wasn’t it?