Chapter Thirteen

I wake up confused. More confused than usual. It was after two in the morning before I finally fell asleep, because—

All of the memories of yesterday crash down on me. Buster. Babe. Gus. Dr. Gabe. Ranger.

The clock shows nine thirty in the morning. Nine thirty!

I jump out of the bed and run downstairs, hollering, “Why didn’t anybody wake me up?”

Jules and Sophie look up from the cartoons they’re watching in the living room.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” I ask. “We have so much to do!”

“Josh,” Jules says.

I grab my head in my hands. “I can’t believe Mom didn’t wake me up.”

“Josh!” Jules shouts. “Calm down! It’s Sunday, you goof. The store doesn’t open until noon, remember? We sleep in on Sunday.”

“Sunday,” I repeat. “Are Mom and Dad downstairs?”

“They went to Lou’s for bagels. I hope they get back soon, I’m starving.”

“So, I’m not late,” I say.

“No, but you really stink. Take a shower, will you? Hey, where are you going?” she calls after me. “You’re not supposed to wear your pajamas downstairs!”

I hurry all the way down to the basement and boot up the computer. Jules walks in as I am impatiently tapping the top of the monitor, even though I know that won’t speed things up.

“What’s going on?” Jules asks.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” I confess. “I came down here and did some research.”

“You did homework on a Saturday night?” She pretends to faint onto the couch. “What’s next? A zombie invasion?”

“It wasn’t homework, it was real research. It started with this.” I hold up the grubby business card that I found next to the register. “His full name is Gus Blusterfeld. But it wasn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. Turns out there are a lot of Gus Blusterfelds in the world.”

“I hope they’re not all like the one we know.”

“Me, too. It took a couple hours and a lot of mistakes, but I finally found a couple of sites that Gus was listed on—party-planning sites mostly. Get this: the listings were under two names, Gustav and Gloria Blusterfeld.”

“How do you know it’s the right Gus?”

“Because they all had photos of Buster and Babe.”

“Is Gloria his wife?”

“I don’t know. I sent e-mails to every site I found, but I haven’t heard back from anyone yet. The more information we have about Gus, the better. But I can’t hang out on the computer all day.”

“I’ll come down here and check whenever I can,” Jules says.

“Thanks. Do me a favor and call Brenna, too. Ask if that Animal Control officer is back yet.” My e-mail alert beeps and I click to open the new message.

“Is it about Gus?” she asks.

“No.” I read and reread the message. “It’s David. He’s on his way over.”

“I thought he was going to a horse show or something with his dad.”

“Looks like his plans changed,” I say.

“Ouch,” Jules says.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Ouch.”

•  •  •  •  •

By the time I get out of the shower, Mom and Dad have returned, and the kitchen is filled with the smell of the best bagels in the world, toasted and smothered with cream cheese. David is here, too, working his way through a French-toast bagel. He doesn’t look like he got much sleep, either.

“Hey,” I say, putting the halves of my everything bagel in the toaster.

“Hey,” he says.

Mom and Dad are downstairs putting the finishing touches on the store. Jules and Sophie are eating in the living room.

I watch the wires inside the toaster glow hot. David usually talks a hundred miles a minute. He’s always joking, teasing, showing off to get a laugh.

My bagel halves toast in silence, then pop.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“No, you’re not.” I put the bagel on a plate and carry it to the table. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you at the horse show?”

He just gives a snort and pushes the cream cheese across the table to me.

“I spent a lot of time online last night,” I say, changing the subject, “trying to learn more about Gus and find a better home for the ponies.”

He doesn’t respond, so I tell him everything I found. By the time I’ve finished the bagel, he knows everything, but I’m still puzzled.

“Did something go wrong with your dad?” I ask.

He looks up at me. “Why do you care? You have the perfect family.”

“Ha!” I laugh. “Perfect? We’re broke. If business doesn’t pick up soon, we’re going to have to move in with my grandparents. We’re always arguing. Half the time Sophie thinks she’s a pony or a rabbit or a raccoon. We’ve never been to Disneyworld, and I’m pretty sure we’ll never go. My parents expect me to be exactly like Jules, only the boy version. We are a long way from perfect, trust me.”

“Yeah, but your parents don’t make promises and break them.”

That’s true.

“That’s why you’re not at the horse show, right?” I ask.

He nods. “He said he had to go into work. He promised he’d make it up to me.” He shrugs, like he’s trying not to care. “Whatever.”

I can’t imagine what it would feel like if that happened to me. Looking at David, I get the sense that it happens a lot.

“That really sucks,” I say.

“Yeah, it does.” He stabs the cream cheese with a knife. “Don’t tell the girls, okay?”

“Ok, I . . . whoops.” I say.

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

“I almost said ‘I promise,’ but then I realized that you might not like it if I said that. So . . . what I am supposed to say?”

He gives a half laugh. “You could say, ‘David is the all-seeing, all-knowing horse genius and stand-up comedian who is my best friend and will save the world.’”

“No way!” I flick a spoonful of cream cheese, and it hits him square in the nose. “How about ‘David is a pain in the butt, but he’s my best friend and we’ll save the world together.’”

He pops the cream cheese in his mouth. “Deal.”

A loud horn blares in the parking lot. We both run to the window.

The ponies have arrived for Day Two.