I wake up with a headache on Friday morning because I had bad dreams. I change out of my sleeping clothes and walk downstairs. Rosie’s at the kitchen table, sitting in front of a bowl of Cheerios, but she’s too excited to eat. Her legs swing like opposing pendulums as she rattles on about the new dance Anise is teaching her. A caution light starts to blink behind my eyes.
“You still may not win the talent show, Rosie. Justin said Patty’s been taking dance since she was three years old.”
“I know, Sid explained all that to me.” She’s wearing a purple tank top over a luminous lime-green skort. “The judges will pick who they think is best.” She looks at me, eyes serious. “I’m going to practice real hard.”
Rats. She still thinks she could win.
“Yeah, well, Patty’s mother will probably buy her expensive costumes, too. You still might not win. That means you won’t get a tiara.”
“That’s what Patty said.”
“Patty? Justin’s sister told you she was going to win the tiara?”
“Yeah, she’s a bully, too. Yee told me that bullies pick on you to make you afraid of them so you won’t try. She said the best thing to do is ignore them. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m ignoring Patty.” Rosie pauses at the door. “I really like your friends, Sammy. They’re the nicest.”
Yeah, they are the nicest.
I leave for work, a larger water bottle clipped to a belt loop. A ball cap in my hip pocket for shade. A bigger jar lid stuffed in the other pocket for a water dish. I considered bringing bent nails to throw on the road to puncture Justin’s tires but decided against it. If I gave other people flat tires, Chief Beaumont would toss me out like he was throwing a touchdown pass.
CountryWood: 6. Sam Smith: 0. Game over.
I coast down the driveway, remembering my dreams. Not dreams, nightmares. Justin forcing me into the ditch. Running over the dogs. Making the L sign on his forehead.
Maybe he won’t bother me today. . . .
I meet Bailey at the road. She smiles as we pass each other. I muster a smile, too. Plastic.
Bertha’s at the security gate, grinning as she hands me an orange pass. “Morning, Sam.”
Hearing my name, Chief Beaumont walks outside. “How you doin’, Sam?”
He stands in front of me. Legs spread wide and arms crossed like a linebacker. A determined linebacker.
“Um, fine.” I wait. More is coming.
“Had reports of a disturbance Wednesday, ’bout the time you were walking the dogs. Loud engine, dogs barking. You hear any such thing?”
He’s going to give me a citation for disturbing the peace.
Take away my gate privileges.
Toss me out like a football.
“I, uh, I might’ve heard something . . . but four dogs keep me pretty busy.” A lie, of course, and the look on the chief’s face says he knows it. I duck my head and look at my watch. “I, uh, I have to pick up the key from Mrs. Callahan.”
He waves me through the gate. I hurry to the office, resisting looking back. I watch a lot of cop shows on TV. Liars always look over their shoulder.
It only takes ten minutes to round up the dogs because Mr. P, Mrs. Callahan, and Professor Muller live so close to each other. I’m glad to see that all four dogs have recovered from Justin’s terror attack. And even happier that Siegfried isn’t limping anymore.
I keep an eye on the rear and listen for a gasoline-powered engine, but it’s smooth sailing. I’ve just tied the fourth plastic bag to my belt when I hear the sound. I spin around but see nothing. Siegfried nudges my leg, alerting me that I need to rotate a hundred eighty degrees. I turn to see a muscle shirt leaning over the windshield of a golf cart. Justin’s conducting a frontal attack today.
I pick up the smaller dogs and take off. Siegfried races beside me. When Justin spins in a tight circle, I spot a wide gap between two houses. It’s against orders to leave the designated path, but only one thought fills my mind. Survival. Mine and the dogs’.
I stop on the other side of the gap. A six-foot-tall white PVC fence confronts me. L-shaped. One of the inside corners of Country-Wood. A dead end.
I spit on the ground and say, “Crap.”
I consider my options. I can’t go back because Justin’s there. There’s no easy way to get the dogs over a six-foot fence. And there’s no use trying to hide because Justin knows every inch of this place.
And then it hits me. It’s not just a dead end. It’s a minefield for golf carts. Big trees. Thorny raspberry bushes. Rough ungraded ground. Lots of boulders.
“Run, Siegfried.” We make it into the trees and the boulder field just as Justin roars through the gap. He slams on his brakes, squealing to a stop.
“Chicken! You gotta come out of there sooner or later, and I got all day.”
Swell. Another plan that wasn’t foolproof. Justin might have all day, but I don’t. I wish for a miracle.
Barely a minute passes before Justin turns his golf cart around. I watch as he roars away.
It’s the miracle I hoped for. But what caused it?
I turn, expecting to see fluorescent halos. Instead, I see flashing lights on a patrol car. Chief Beaumont steps out. Legs spread wide. Arms crossed.
Aww, man.
Siegfried follows behind as I carry Apollo, Buddy, and Baby to the car.
“Believe you’re off your path, Sam. And you’re supposed to be walking dogs, not carrying them.” His probing eyes do exploratory surgery. “Got an explanation for that?”
“Um, yeah, uh . . .” I stammer a lot, hoping to buy time. My mind floats somewhere between righteous truth and flat-out lie. “See, I discovered this place by accident, and it’s a great place to walk dogs. You know, away from the traffic . . . and people’s houses . . . and things that scare them.”
“Things that scare them . . .” He looks down the road where Justin disappeared. “You hear a loud engine a few minutes ago? Like maybe a gasoline-powered golf cart?”
I attempt to swallow, but my mouth has grown hair. “Maybe,” I wheeze.
He pauses. “Can’t help you if you don’t help me, Sam. Was it Justin?”
Time passes. He stares at me.
“I, uh, I really need this job.” I stare at the ground.
“Uh-huh,” he says again, nodding thoughtfully. “I think you just confirmed what I already knew.” He turns his attention to the rocky place behind me. “Problem with this lot is it’s in the corner of the development where no decent road could be built. Or houses, for that matter. There’s been talk about making a walking path to it, turning it into a park.” He pauses, rubbing his mouth. “Would make a good place to walk dogs, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, sir, a real good place.”
“The dogs done with their business?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get in, then.” He motions me toward the backseat of his cruiser. “I’ll take you and the dogs home, they’ve gotten enough exercise. On the way, we’ll talk about changing your route to come here instead. I’ll explain everything to the dogs’ owners. That way, neither you nor their owners have to worry about their dogs getting injured again.”
Again. He knows about Siegfried getting hurt.
He looks at me. “That okay with you?”
I wheeze, “Yes, sir. That is very okay with me.”
Chief Beaumont’s dark face turns darker. “And then I’m going to have a talk with a certain someone’s father about taking away his son’s driving privileges.”
Justin. He’s talking about Justin.
Woohoo! Home free now. No more bad dreams. No more hurt dogs.
And Justin the Jerk will be the big loser.