You have to make small plans.

That is one of the things I have discovered in this world. It is pointless to make big plans because you never know when someone is going to wake you up in the middle of the night and say, “The day of reckoning has arrived.”

Days of reckoning interfere with big plans.

So I made small plans. The small plans were: Keep the car on the road. Find a dentist. Never forgive Granny.

Although, when I think about it, never forgiving Granny would probably go in the “big plan” category.

Granny moaned. She said, “Why must you haunt me so? What do you want from me?”

She also said the word dentist from time to time.

I kept my mouth shut. I did not offer Granny any comfort to speak of.

And what can I say in my defense except that I was very angry and also that I was doing my best under difficult circumstances?

Finding a dentist is not as easy as you might imagine.

Nothing is.

Richford was not a big town. I went past a school and several houses and a church and also a pink cement building that had a sign out front that read BILL’S TAXIDERMY.

How could a town have a taxidermist in a pink cement building but not have a dentist?

I saw a woman walking her dog down the side of the road, and I felt a pang.

Who was taking care of Archie the cat?

Was he right this very minute walking down the highway in search of me? He had done that before — found his way to me against all odds.

“Where is Archie?” I shouted at Granny.

Of course she did not answer me.

It seemed cruel to press her on the point when she was in so much pain, but as soon as she was not in pain, I intended to do exactly that: press her on the point.

In the meantime, I had to find a dentist.

I stopped the car. I did this by depressing the brake pedal very carefully and very slowly. And when we had stopped completely, I rolled down the window and called out to the lady with the dog. I said, “Excuse me, what is the name of your dog?”

Granny moaned from the back seat.

The woman looked at me. I think she was surprised to find a child behind the wheel of a car. Well, I was surprised, too.

So far, it had been a very surprising day.

“Pardon me?” said the lady.

“Does your dog have a name?”

“Ernest,” she said.

“I have a cat named Archie,” I told her. “And there is also a dog in my life. His name is Buddy. You will be happy to know that my friends and I worked together to rescue Buddy from a very tragic situation. Buddy is a dog who has only one eye.”

“How old are you?” said the woman. Her eyes narrowed.

“That is an irrelevant question at this juncture,” I said. “Isn’t it?” I smiled at her using all of my teeth. “I am wondering if you can tell me where the dentist is.”

“Dr. Fox?”

“Certainly,” I said.

“Should you be driving?” said the woman.

“I should be driving,” I told her. I gave her a very serious grown-up-to-grown-up sort of look. “The situation is dire.”

Granny moaned from the back seat, as if working to prove my point.

I smiled at the lady again.

Ernest the dog looked up at me and wagged his tail. Animals of every sort have always immediately trusted me. Ernest had a very handsome tail. It was burnished apricot in color.

“I admire your tail,” I said to Ernest.

He wagged it some more.

“Where is Dr. Fox?” I asked the lady.

“You take a left on Glove Street,” said the woman.

“And then what?” I said.

Granny groaned.

“Who is that in the back seat?” said the woman.

“That is my granny in the back seat. But continuing on with the directions — after I take a left on Glove Street, what do I do?”

“Dr. Fox’s office will be on your right.”

“Thank you very much,” I told her. “Good-bye, Ernest.”

Ernest waved his impressive tail. I rolled up the window.

The whole exchange had cheered me considerably. I had located a dentist. I had met a dog named Ernest.

Also, I liked it that Dr. Fox was on Glove Street.

If you put the words together, they sounded like a song. I started to sing the Dr.-Fox-on-Glove-Street song.

“Where is Dr. Fox?

You take a left on Glove,

and then you continue on.

You take a left on Glove

and you sing this song.”

Granny moaned from the back seat.

I got so happy singing the Dr. Fox song that I almost forgot about the wrongs I had suffered at Granny’s hands.

Almost.