Jude

She’s back!” Spider busted into the bathroom where Jude was working. “I saw her out the window!”

Jude went to the living room and cracked the front blinds. Gladys was hopping from foot to foot like she had to pee or her shoes were on fire. She was holding—was that his paint scraper? He undid the locks and opened the door.

“Just to be clear, I’m ready to be magnan—generous. I forgive you for being rude to my mother.” Breathing hard, she had red spots on both cheeks. She must have ridden that dinky excuse for a bike as fast as it could go. She waved his paint scraper around. “Also, I know you claim you don’t want to help True—”

“I don’t claim. I—”

“But you should know that she’s gone missing.”

“What?” He grabbed the paint scraper before she did any damage. “How do you know?”

She took that for an invitation and barged in. Standing in the living room, she pulled deep breaths through her nose, like she was doing that mindfulness junk they taught at school. It didn’t seem to be working.

“Yikes,” she said. “I never saw so many doilies in my life.”

“A lady at Good Sam makes them. That’s where my mother works.”

“Really? My grandmother was there before she died. It wasn’t a very nice place.” She pulled another breath, this one so deep he was afraid she’d inflate. “I’m sorry. I know your mother’s nice.”

“No she’s not. I keep trying to tell you that.” He couldn’t believe she’d come here. He’d figured her for the kind who stuck to her guns and stayed mad. “What do you mean the dog’s gone?”

She took off her bike helmet and her hair exploded.

“Where’s Soapie?” demanded Spider. “You didn’t bring Soapie?”

“Not today, buddy.”

He snatched the bike helmet from her and ran out of the room.

Her shoes—weren’t those what people wore for bowling? When she sat down they didn’t even touch the floor. One corner of the love seat was ripped up from when Spider experimented with Mom’s razor, so Jude had to sit closer than he wanted.

“Are you going to tell me or what?”

“I went back there. She’s gone. All I saw was the woman.” Gladys grabbed a doily, wadded it up between her hands. Smoothed it out, then immediately wadded it back up. “I had a nightmare about her. It was like a myth where someone gets trapped inside a rock or a tree. The living being is still in there, silently howling, begging to be released, but no one can tell.” She shut her eyes for a second. “It was one of the creepiest dreams I’ve ever had, and I’ve had lots of really bad dreams.”

“You have?”

She nodded.

That was a surprise.

“Trees aren’t creepy,” he said. “You are dissing trees.”

“It was my subconscious! I can’t help it. There was another part, too, where I leaned over and...Never mind! When I saw her just now, it was like the nightmare was coming true.” She beat her heels against the sofa and one of her bowling shoes fell off. “I waited and watched but she just stood there. She’s lost her mind or her heart or her soul or I don’t know what. Mrs. Marsh told me her boyfriend took off and left True behind. Do you think that’s what made her so mean? Him leaving her?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But she could’ve been mean before and that’s why he left. Not that it matters.”

He was pretty sure Gladys thought it did matter, but she didn’t argue, which wasn’t like her at all.

“Sometimes this thing happens where trees, they turn into stone.” He took the doily from her and put it back on the armrest. “Petrified, it’s called. There’s a whole national park called the Petrified Forest. They got ginkgoes there that are like two hundred million years old, turned to solid stone.”

“Are you saying she’s a petrified human? That’s a really good metaphor.”

“I bet Pookie ran away. Saw her chance and took off. She’s probably out there right now running free as the wind. Who could blame her, right?” When Gladys didn’t answer, he went on, “Or maybe the petrified woman gave her away. Or drove her someplace and dumped her.”

“Jude! Don’t even say that!”

“People do bad stuff.” It felt like it was up to him to tell her that. Like he had to inform her the rest of the world wasn’t so wonderful as she thought. It didn’t make him feel good, though. And it only made her mad. She beat her heels and the other shoe fell off.

“She could be scared and hungry. Possibly sick or injured. And all alone in the universe.” Her too-big eyes filled with tears. “We know how exceptional she is, but other people might just see a stray with a horrible bark.” She grabbed the doily back and swiped her cheek. “They won’t care about her.”

Spider tore in and out of the room, wearing her bike helmet and making motorcycle noises. Jude thought of how, even after Ms. Suza saw what a massive pain Spider could be, she told them to come back again. Like she knew there was a different kid, a lovable kid, hidden inside Spy. All of a sudden, Jude got why Gladys was here. She was just like her mother! Two peas in a pod. No matter how hard Jude tried to convince her that he didn’t want anything to do with True-Pookie, Gladys refused to listen. She just kept right on believing there was another kid stuck inside him. A kid brave or determined or loco enough to care about a dog nobody else did.

“Even if someone does try to help True, she won’t trust them,” Gladys was saying. “Why should she? All people do is let her down.” She stared at her socks. “Including me.”

Spider rode his invisible motorcycle over the coffee table and back out of the room. Jude had an idea.

“What about the pound? Maybe somebody turned her in.”

“I should’ve thought of that.” She pulled out her phone, got the town’s website, and called animal control. Listened. Tapped the phone. Listened. Hung up looking disgusted.

“That was a recording! There’s no more department of animal control. It was eliminated due to budget constraints.” She drilled her finger into the ripped cushion. “I detest when people misuse language for evil purposes. Like my father’s auto plant got unallocated? No! It got shut down and everyone got fired! The town decided animals aren’t as important as other things. Why don’t they just admit it?” She probed that cushion like maybe the answer was down there.

“Just as well,” he said. “If they put her in a cage she’d bark her head off. Who’d adopt a freaked-out dog with funky eyes and a triangle head? She’d probably just get put to sleep. In other words, killed.”

If there was a word that meant sad all the way through, like, saturated with sad, that was how she looked.

He stood up. That kind of sadness was contagious.

She folded her hands. Bit her lip. Gave herself a shake. When she put her shoes back on, she tied them with double knots. Then she stood up, too.

“It’s up to us to find her,” she said. Before he could even open his mouth, she said, “You need to help me, Jude. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“I would, okay? You’re right. I get it. Pookie shouldn’t be out there all scared and alone. She got a really bad deal. She deserves way better. But I’m on lockdown.” He heard how fast he was talking. Heard his mother saying, Don’t give me those sorry lame excuses. “I got this bathroom to paint, my brother to watch. I—I got my summer reading and math to do.”

Gladys put her hands on her hips. Her bracelets made a noise like silverware when you slam the drawer.

“Besides,” he said, “Pookie could be anyplace. She could be in the next county. It’d be a miracle if you found her and guess what? I do not believe in miracles.”

“This is the most I’ve ever heard you speak,” she said.

“I’m done.”

She circled the room, then stopped directly in front of him. Hooked her thumbs in her overall straps.

“How about we make a deal?” she said. “I help you finish the bathroom and you help me look for True.”

He leaned back. Mom was working a double shift. She wouldn’t be home till late. If he didn’t have to worry about Spider, he could get a lot done. And if Gladys worked her juju on Spider, he wouldn’t rat on them.

“You really want to watch my brother?”

“I said I’d help you finish the bathroom!”

“That’s how you can help.”

She gritted her teeth. “You might not have noticed, but I actually can’t stand little kids. Nevertheless, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

How’d a person get like that? If somebody asked him to define a Gladys, he’d say a person small and stubborn as a fire hydrant. She wouldn’t give up. Not on True. Not on him.

But being stubborn was only a good thing if you were right. Otherwise, it was a big mistake.

Big.

“One hour,” he said.

“And a half.”

“Okay. You keep Spider out of my way that long, and I’ll help you look.”

“Deal! But I get to go first.” She turned and called, “Spider! Where are you, buddy?”

He zoomed into the room, wearing her helmet and revving his invisible motorcycle. Jude followed them to the front door. The sun shone a spotlight on his murdered white pine.

What was he getting himself into?