Chapter 14
Smartastic
“I’ve got it,” Stick Dog said. “And you guys helped me figure it out just now.”
“How?” asked Karen.
“By using the word ‘stop’ over and over.”
“I’m not surprised,” Stripes chimed in. “I mean, it’s usually the four of us who solve our problems, Stick Dog.”
He didn’t respond to this particular comment, but Stick Dog did nod his head a bit and smile.
“So, how do we get the sushi?” Mutt asked, tucking that sky-blue mitten back into his fur to chew on later.
“Like I said, there are only three places to get that sushi,” Stick Dog said as his friends gathered around him. “Inside the restaurant. At the window. Or in the car.”
Mutt, Poo-Poo, Karen, and Stripes were no longer frustrated and defeated. Now they were nervous and excited. They couldn’t wait to hear Stick Dog’s idea—and they couldn’t wait to get that sushi. Karen hopped up and down.
“We’re not going into the restaurant,” Stick Dog continued. “And we’re not doing anything at the window.”
Stick Dog moved around the group with his eyes, staring briefly at each of his friends with strength and conviction.
He said, “We’re going to use the car.”
“But you said moving cars are always—always—dangerous,” reminded Poo-Poo.
“You’re right, I did,” Stick Dog said. “But what if the car isn’t moving? What if we stopped it?”
“How in the world can we do that?” asked Stripes.
Before he could answer, Poo-Poo had an idea.
“We could use a bulldozer!” he yelped.
This made the others come up with plans too. Stripes, Mutt, and Karen shouted out their own ideas in succession.
“We could use a toothbrush!”
“Or a flamingo feather!”
“Or one of those places where the planes and helicopters and runways are!”
Stick Dog decided instantly not to ask his friends about how they would use a bulldozer, toothbrush, flamingo feather, or airport to stop a moving car. Stick Dog just told them his idea.
He said, “We’re going to create a blockade to make a car stop.”
His friends looked at Stick Dog with puzzled expressions. Karen asked the question that was on all of their minds.
“What’s a blockade?”
“Oh, sorry,” Stick Dog said. “It’s a new word. A blockade is—”
But he didn’t get the chance to answer.
“I got this, Stick Dog,” Poo-Poo interrupted. “I know lots of words. Dozens even. When it comes to words, I’m quite smartastic.”
“Smartastic?” Stick Dog asked.
“Yeah. It means really, really smart. It’s a word you don’t know, but I do. See what I mean?”
“Okay, Poo-Poo. I, umm, see what you mean,” Stick Dog said. He sat back on his haunches. He had the distinct feeling this might take a minute or two. “What’s a blockade?”
“It’s when two humans are acting all lovey-dovey,” Poo-Poo said, obviously a little uncomfortable with the subject. “And one human gets down on one knee and sings a song up to the other human, who is leaning out a window. The song is real romantical. And then the human in the window has a bunch of hearts fly out of their chest.”
There was silence then. Utter silence. For eight seconds. Then Stripes spoke.
She whispered, “Humans are so weird.”
“I have a question about this romantical blockade,” Karen said, and started to giggle. “Does it have to be humans? Could it be—oh, I don’t know—Stick Dog singing to Lucy perhaps? How about it, Stick Dog? Have you ever sung lovey-dovey blockades to Lucy?”
“I think you might be thinking of a serenade, Poo-Poo,” Stick Dog said, and then worked to avoid Karen’s question. “And I think Poo-Poo’s right. Serenades are only for humans. So, I don’t see how that could answer your question, Karen, since I’m a dog.”
“I know what a blockade is, Stick Dog.”
“Okay, Mutt,” Stick Dog said. He was very happy to move on. “Tell us. What is a blockade?”
“It’s a creature that’s made up of two different things—the top of a female human and a long tail-thing of a fish,” Mutt answered. “Heck, there might even be one of those blockades right here in Lake Washituba.”
“That’s a mermaid,” Stick Dog said kindly. “But you’re right. There might, umm, be one here in the lake.”
“So, I was mostly right?”
“Sure,” answered Stick Dog. “Mostly.”
Mutt seemed pleased by that.
“I’m smartastic too,” Stripes said, stepping forward. “So you won’t be surprised to learn that I know the definition of blockade.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Stick Dog said, and leaned back against a tree stump. This was taking longer than he thought it would. “What is it?”
“It’s when a bunch of humans go down the street,” Stripes said confidently. “And there are marching bands and big balloons and clowns and decorated cars and stuff.”
“You might be thinking of a parade,” Stick Dog said.
“Same difference,” Stripes said. Then she rubbed her belly against the ground to scratch it.
It was Karen’s turn. She obviously didn’t want to be left out.
“I’m super-smartastic,” she said. “And I can, without question, tell you exactly what a blockade is.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“A blockade is a small bug-and-worm type thing,” Karen said. “It moves forward by scooting on all its little legs and arching its back. It likes to eat leaves. And it’s fuzzy. They’re actually pretty darn cute!”
“Karen,” Stick Dog said, and coughed a bit. “What you’re describing is a caterpillar.”
“I am? That’s what you call those things?!” Karen asked. “I never knew their names! And when I heard this new ‘blockade’ word, I just thought I could use it for them. Caterpillar, hunh? How about that? Caterpillar, caterpillar, caterpillar! They sure are cute! Aren’t they, Stick Dog?!”
“They sure are,” Stick Dog said, and laughed. He loved how overjoyed Karen was. He got back up to all fours, made certain no more humans were about, and said, “Now, can I tell you what a blockade is?”
They all said he could.
“A blockade is when you create an obstacle in the path of something to stop it,” Stick Dog said. He realized that his friends might not know the word “obstacle” either, so he simplified his definition. “You make a blockade to stop something from moving.”
Poo-Poo asked, “What do you make a blockade with?”
“You can make one with just about anything,” Stick Dog answered. Then he pointed at the three metal garbage cans. “We’re going to use those.”
Then he pointed down the road where it curved by the lake. They could all see the headlights of an approaching car in the distance.
“And if that car is coming to pick up some sushi from that window,” Stick Dog said with fierce determination, “then that’s the car we’re going to stop.”
They all stared at the car as it got closer.
And closer.
And closer.