CHAPTER TEN
Bagels Saves Dad
“Bad dog,” says Dad.
“It’s not Bagels,” I say.
“You can’t fool me,” says Dad. “I’d know that dog anywhere.”
“I mean Bagels isn’t guilty,” I say. “Someone got here before Bagels and ate most of the cake. Bagels is eating the leftovers.”
Dad looks at me. “The kitchen door was closed.”
Becky breaks the news. “Bagels can open doors, Dad.”
“Bagels,” I say. I point to the open window. “Go get him.”
Bagels cocks his head to one side. He looks at the window. He looks back at the cake leftovers. I can tell he’s torn.
He makes the right choice.
He leaps out of the window and heads for the forest. We all follow. Except we use the front door.
“Wait for me,” shouts Becky. Dad picks her up and puts her on his shoulders. As they run ahead of me, I hear Becky saying, “Giddyup, Dad.”
Running uphill is not as easy as you might think. Especially in a forest. Unless you’re a sheltie/Jack Russell/whippet.
Bagels barks to let us know where he is. We soon reach him. He’s outside the cave—growling. I put him on the leash.
Becky’s bedding is all over the place. Mom gathers it up.
“Blanky’s not there,” says Becky. Dad sets her on the ground.
“Grrrr,” says Bagels.
“Josh,” says Dad, “before we go into this cave, I need to get something straight. Do you really think that someone climbed into our kitchen and ate most of Becky’s birthday cake? The same guy who has Mom’s cell phone?”
I nod.
“The homeless guy?” adds Mom.
I nod again. “Except he’s not homeless. I think he lives in the cave.”
“A cave is not a home,” says Mom.
“Maybe not to us,” says Dad.
And I think, That’s because we’re humans, Dad. But I don’t say it.
Bagels is pulling on the leash. It’s now or never.
As we head into the cave, Dad says, “Josh, let’s be careful.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “We have Bagels.”
Dad starts to say something. Then he changes his mind. Everyone follows Bagels and me into the cave.
It’s empty.
Except for the smelly mess of leftovers.
Mom looks around. “It looks as if the mystery man isn’t here,” she says. Then she sniffs. “This cave stinks. I’m going back to the cabin. Who’s with me?”
Dad and Becky are.
But Bagels smells something else. With his nose to the ground, he pulls on the leash.
“I’ll be there soon, Dad,” I call as Bagels pulls harder.
Bagels finds a smaller passage at the back of the cave. We zigzag down it.
We go deeper into the hillside. It’s darker here. I switch on my alligator flashlight.
Wait…I see an opening. What do you know! The cave has two entrances. Bagels runs faster. He’s practically dragging me.
We reach the second entrance. There’s only one problem. I realize too late that this entrance has a ten-foot drop...
…right into the lake.
Lucky for me, I’m still wearing my life jacket—and Bagels is a good swimmer.
“Josh! Bagels!” I hear my mother yelling from the shore.
Bagels and I start to swim. Dad’s getting in the rowboat to rescue us.
“Werooo,” says Bagels.
Dad’s rowing like crazy. He reaches Bagels first, leans over and tries to grab him. He leans too far.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, Josh. Glubblub.”
“Weroof?”
That’s when Bagels and I learn…Dad can’t swim.
Dad’s going down for the third time when Bagels bites into his jacket and heads for the shore. They’re both doing the dog paddle. Bagels is better at it.
