The noise Max and I heard in the night turned out to be raccoons, a mother and three young ones again. The four marauders left footprints everywhere, broke four clay pots, and dug up Mom’s perennial garden looking for grubs and roots. There’s plenty of work to fill the morning. No list required.
After cheer practice, Bailey, Yee, and Anise come over to visit Max and Birdie. There are four birds now, growing fast. Birdie spends her days pulling worms.
“Poor Birdie, let’s help.” Rosie runs to the garden shed and brings back shovels. Before I can stop them, she, Anise, and Bailey start digging earthworms. Yee can’t stand to touch one, so she brushes Max instead.
“I like that you put up that tent for him. And his breath is a little better.” She’s wearing a pink tank top and tan shorts. “You are feeding him dog biscuits, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Yee’s bossiness grates on my nerves. My sleepless night has made me groggy. My head throbs because I crunched numbers all night. I just want to go to my room and take a nap. But I can’t. My mattress is still on the picnic table, drying out.
“Why did you do that?” She looks hurt. “Am I being too bossy?”
I don’t answer. I don’t want to tell her about seeing ghosts in the night and calculating numbers that wouldn’t add up.
“I’ll try not to be so bossy.”
I make a discovery about girls. Sometimes silence says more than words.
“Did you hear about the dog park? Don’t you think it’s a great idea?”
Why did she have to bring that up?
“Why would I care? I’m an outsider.”
She looks hurt again.
I mumble, “Sorry.”
“Sammy’s going to lose his job.” Rosie sits down next to Yee.
“What?” Anise stops shoveling worms. Bailey, too. Everyone stares at Rosie.
“That’s what Patty told me today. Her mom bought some plants from Mom.”
“Why?” Bailey says, looking at me.
“Oh.” Yee’s eyes switch to high beams. “It’s because we’re building a dog park. . . .”
No one says a word with their mouths, but four pairs of eyes give me pitying looks. I can’t stand it.
“I, uh, I need to get the trash can out on the street.”
“Why?” Bailey frowns. “The trash gets picked up on Fridays. That’s tomorrow.”
“I know, but I have to work in the morning and won’t have time.”
A lie and they all know it. There’ll be plenty of time in the morning to put out the trash can.
“Empty my trash can, too!” Rosie yells to me.
“Do your own chores!”
The cheerleaders return to Bailey’s for practice, and I drag the trash can out to the street. Planning to spend the rest of the day in my room, I hurry back inside. The plan falls apart. I’m drawn to the telephone like a magnet to metal. I dial the number by heart, listen to Mrs. Kendall answer the phone, and ask my usual question.
“As a matter of fact, we sold another one just last night. That leaves just one puppy. A male.”
My lungs refuse to inflate. “You . . . you only have one puppy left?”
She confirms the answer and hangs up. Click.
I stare at the phone, numb. Can this really be happening?
No, my head insists. There’s still time. There aren’t enough volunteers to build the dog park. No one will want the last puppy. . . .