Wednesday feels like a spring day. Cool and breezy. The dogs run ahead of me, playing and nipping at each other. I’ve only had to give them water once. They finish their business fast. I keep a close watch for Justin, but he’s a no-show. We’re heading back when I see him coming.
Not Justin. Bruno. Running free. No leash.
On purpose?
I gather the three smallest dogs and yell, “Run!” to Siegfried. But Bruno has an edge. Long legs and massive muscles. He topples us like bowling pins. The three little dogs land on top of me, and Siegfried ends up under all of us. Squashed like an aluminum pop can. His cries tell me he’s hurt again.
“Get away! Get back! Go home!” I wave my arms at Bruno and stretch them overhead to look bigger. Finally, he retreats. Chief Beaumont pulls up as I’m sorting dogs and helps me untangle leashes. Together we examine Siegfried.
“Just scared, mostly.” The little pinscher trembles so badly, he can’t stand.
“Justin responsible for this?”
“No, sir. Bruno.”
Chief Beaumont frowns. “The dog wasn’t on leash?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re sure it was Bruno?”
“Oh, yeah. Justin walked him on Monday and brought him here to show me. I made fun of him ’cause he couldn’t make Bruno mind.”
“Made fun of him . . . ,” the chief repeats slowly.
The voice in my head says, Should have ignored him.
“Yeah,” I say. “That probably wasn’t a good idea.”
Nodding, Chief Beaumont says, “Well, you won’t have to worry about that kind of thing anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
Is he going to take Bruno away from Justin? Can he do that?
“That’s why I came looking for you, Sam. I thought some more about turning the corner lot into a dog park and got approval from the Board of Directors. Soon as I recruit enough volunteers, we’ll extend the fenced area. From now on, people can exercise their dogs without fear of getting run over. By car or animal.”
“That’s great. Now Mr. P, Mrs. Callahan, and Professor Muller can exercise their dogs.”
“Yes, but . . .” The chief’s look is piercing. “Sam, do you understand what this means?”
“Oh.” A vise squeezes my lungs so tight, I can hardly breathe. “I don’t have a job anymore, do I?”
“That would be up to the people you’re working for. You could continue to work until we get the dog run fenced, but . . .” He looks at Siegfried. “Not sure that’s a good idea. I can give Justin’s father a citation for letting Bruno run free, but I’m powerless to do much else. If Justin pulls the same stunt again . . .”
He’s worried one of the dogs will get hurt. Really hurt.
“But it’s important I walk the dogs as long as I can. I don’t have enough to buy my puppy.”
“You’re buying a puppy. . . .” He looks away, then turns back at me. “All right,” he says. “I’m taking your word on this incident, Sam. Something I don’t ordinarily do.”
“It was Bruno, I know it was.”
“All right. Get the dogs home now. I have to go issue someone another citation.”
This time, I carry Siegfried and let the other three walk. The little warrior dog has earned a free ride.
My mattress hasn’t dried completely, so I’m still sharing the tent with Max. As darkness deepens, my mind becomes a calculator figuring how much more I need. I have the hundred dollars I started with, minus ten for the ad. Another thirty I earned. By the weekend, forty-five more. A hundred sixty-five dollars in all. Less than half of what I need. To earn the balance will take . . .
Over four weeks!
I bury my head in Max’s thick coat. Suddenly, he jerks his head up. Growling. Listening, I hear a snap outside the tent.
“What is it?” I strain my eyes through the mosquito-net closing. See nothing.
Max pushes to his feet, nosing the door cover to get out. I unzip it and let him out, climb out behind him. He disappears in the shadows.
I listen for him to bark. Or growl.
Nothing.
Wait . . . what is that?
Something rounds the corner of the barn, tall and flowing. Silvery moonlight gliding across the ground. I wish I’d brought my ball bat from my bedroom. Or that Max were here beside me.
Where is Max?
Then I see him. A phantom dog walking beside the apparition.
“Did I wake you, Sammy?”
“Mom—what are you doing out here?”
“I brought your pillow. At least it’s dry. You know, you could sleep on the sofa in the living room. Be a lot more comfortable.”
“No, this is good.” I take the pillow. “I, uh, I kind of like listening to the frogs and owls. Besides, Max needs help guarding Birdie.”
“All right, then.” She shakes her head slightly. “See you in the morning.”
Max crawls into the tent with me.
“You could’ve said something, Max. I’m supposed to be your alpha person.”
He pants, discharging dog breath. Garlic and spoiled bologna.
I dispense two charcoal dog biscuits.
The night noises seem louder, like the frogs are using amplifiers. The owls, loudspeakers.
Then nothing. A yawning quiet.
The hairs on my arms stand up. Max’s ears are at alert. We listen and wait. Wait and listen. Breathing shallow.
Night noises resume.
I sigh, drawing a conclusion. My imagination is working overtime.
Still, a ball bat might come in handy. . . .
As Max starts to snore, I go back to being a calculator. A broken calculator that can’t come up with the right number.
Why did I have to mention a dog park to Chief Beaumont?
Sleeping bag a crying towel.