35

Back in the park, we put our posters up everywhere. We gave posters to everyone we saw. At first, I was sure we’d find Rupert or someone who’d seen Rupert. After a while, though, I wasn’t so sure.

I wanted to tell Dad the truth. But I was scared he’d get mad. I knew I’d done a stupid thing. Maybe it would be okay to tell him once we found Rupert. If we found Rupert.

Maybe.

“Here, Rupert!” I called, an empty feeling filling my heart. “Come on, boy!”

“Rupert? Come on, boy!” called Dad. “Come on, Rupert!”

“WOOPAH!” called Sam.

Nothing.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Finally, Dad said it was time to go home for lunch. He said we needed energy so we could keep looking for Rupert later.

“Home,” Sam kept saying as we walked. “Woopah home.”

So much for Sam being smarter than all of us.

“Three,” said Gretchen Thorn, appearing out of nowhere. She was walking Dijon again. I didn’t want to talk to her. I didn’t want her to know we’d lost Rupert. She’d call me a pawn for sure.

“Hi, Gretchen,” I said, trying to play it cool, like nothing was the matter.

“Where’s your friend?” she asked.

“What friend?” I said. “Max? He’s away at camp.”

“No, silly,” she said. “Your four-legged friend. Rupert.”

“Um … I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “We can’t find him. We’re looking for him now.”

“Did he run away?” she asked. She didn’t wait for my answer. “Sometimes a dog just wants a little freedom and adventure. Don’t worry. You’ll find him eventually.”

“Exactly,” said Dad. “We’re going to keep looking until we find him.”

“Woopah home,” said Sam.

“Why do you keep saying the same thing over and over?” I said to Sam. “You sound like a big baby.”

“He is a baby,” Gretchen said softly, crouching beside the stroller so she could hear what Sam was saying. “Babies are supposed to sound like babies. Give him a break.”

“Woopah home,” Sam said to Gretchen.

“I don’t get it,” she said, looking up at me. “Is your dog at home or is he lost?”

“Sam doesn’t know what he’s saying,” I explained. “We were walking Rupert and then he went chasing after a ball. He just kept running. Now we can’t find him.”

“Who knows?” she said to me. “Maybe your brother is right. Maybe Rupert will find his own way home. He might even be waiting there now!”

“Do you think?” I said.

“Maybe,” she said, walking away with Dijon. “Good luck!”

“She’s an interesting girl,” Dad said to me.

“I think she knows a lot about dogs,” I said.

No one said anything as we walked home. No one except Sam.

“Woopah home,” he kept saying over and over again.