JUSTIN’S DAD POUNDED A METAL STAKE INTO THE grass in their backyard. Max flinched every time the rubber mallet made contact, but Justin held him firmly on a short leash. The sun was high in the sky, and the late afternoon was unbearably hot and humid. Justin was melting, and he couldn’t imagine how Max felt in his heavy black and tan coat. Then Justin remembered that Afghanistan was probably even hotter, and Max was trained to endure those insane temperatures.
Max had been agitated but not aggressive on the ride home. Reyes had loaned them a cage to use in their car, and Max had turned circles while they drove. But he hadn’t growled or barked that much, which was a good sign. Now that they’d gotten Max home, though, Justin wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to do with him. It wasn’t like he was a lapdog like Chuy’s twenty Chihuahuas. Sure, Max had been Kyle’s sidekick, but that didn’t make him safe to have inside.
“I hate to tie him up in the backyard like this,” Justin’s mom said over the banging of the mallet.
His dad stopped his work for a moment and looked at his wife. “Pamela, we talked about this. He’s too unstable to keep in the house, and we can’t just let him run around out here, either. What if he got out of the yard? He’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t you just put up a fence?” Justin asked.
His dad spun around to look at him, his neck darkening in the sun. “And who’s going to pay for that? You?”
“No, but if you do, I’ll trick the neighborhood kids into whitewashing it,” Justin joked.
“You’re hilarious.” His dad turned back to his mom. “You sure this one’s ours?”
She grinned back at him. “I’ve got the stretch marks to prove it.”
Justin’s dad chuckled and gave the stake one last blow. Justin couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his father laugh—or his mom make a joke. He also couldn’t remember the last time his dad had gone to this much trouble for something that mattered to him. He would only take in a potentially man-eating dog for Kyle. Never for Justin. Figured.
His dad pulled on the stake and seemed satisfied that it would stay in the ground, no matter how hard Max pulled. He looped a long piece of metal chain through it and took one step toward Max, ready to fasten the chain to his collar. Max snarled and lowered himself into a crouch, pulling on his leash. Justin’s dad jumped backward and quickly retracted his hand.
“Here,” his dad said, thrusting the chain at Justin. “You do it.”
Justin didn’t feel like arguing with his dad; he just wanted to do whatever would get him back to his normal life. He took the leash and, without a word, leaned over and slowly, gently, quietly snapped it onto Max’s collar. Max plopped down onto the ground as if he’d been living in their backyard his whole life. The dog looked completely relaxed. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he panted a little. It was almost as if he’d just pretended to be crazy earlier—like he was messing with them or something.
“All right, then,” his mom said, sounding amused. “Looks like he’s all settled.”
Justin did a quick calculation and figured he had enough time for a quick bike ride before it got too dark. He stood up to leave.
“Justin,” his mom said, “let’s go in and fix Max’s dinner.”
Justin stopped, shook his head, and held both hands up in front of him. A flash of anger shot through him.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Justin said, backing away from his parents and Max. “I helped you get him here, but I—” Max jumped back up and started to growl at Justin, suspicious of all the sudden movement and the anger in Justin’s tone. He lowered his voice. “But I did not sign on to take care of Kyle’s crazy dog.”
His dad may have been laughing just a moment before, but he definitely wasn’t amused anymore. He put down the rubber mallet and looked down at the ground for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Then he lifted himself to his feet with some effort and limped toward Justin. His mom watched them from across the yard, worry on her face.
“Kyle is gone.” His dad’s eyes glinted with anger as he spoke. “So Max isn’t Kyle’s dog anymore. He’s yours. Have I made myself clear?”
Justin ground his teeth together. He held his dad’s gaze but didn’t say anything. What was the point? His dad cared more about a stupid dog that had once belonged to Kyle than he did about his own living, breathing son. There was no point in fighting about it—his dad was never going to change.
After a long pause, Justin pushed past his dad and stomped toward the house. He could hear Max’s chain rattling as the dog hopped up and tried to follow him.
“Sit!” his dad snapped at Max. Max barked, and his dad muttered under his breath.
Justin heard Max whimpering as he slammed the back door behind him. He stormed into the kitchen, grabbed the ten-pound bag of dry dog food from the floor and ripped it open. He snatched up the new stainless steel bowl and knelt on the ground, reaching his hand into the giant bag. The food smelled gross—he nearly gagged. His mom stepped through the back door and leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed. Justin shot her a glare as he dumped a pile of kibble into the bowl with a loud rattle, then wiped his hand on his jeans.
“Justin.”
Justin ignored his mom and added another handful of food. He had to admit it wasn’t as bad the second time.
“Justin,” she said again.
Justin turned to his mom. “What?” he asked. He knew he was pushing his luck with his tone, but he couldn’t help himself. He was too mad—but about what, he couldn’t exactly say.
“Justin, listen to me.” His mom’s voice was firm but understanding. “Your brother loved you so much. More than you’ll ever know. You get that, right?”
Hot tears sprang to Justin’s eyes. He turned away so his mom couldn’t see them.
“If that’s true then he wouldn’t have been in such a rush to take off and leave me here to deal with Dad all by myself.”
“Your father loves you, too, Justin. So much.” She sighed and let out a little cluck of her tongue. “It’s just—none of you Wincott boys ever figured out a way to tell each other that.”
A hard lump formed in Justin’s throat, and he couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say anyway. His dad certainly hadn’t ever figured out a way to tell Justin he loved him. Seemed like his dad had mostly just let Justin know how disappointed he was.
Justin’s mom stepped forward and dropped her arms to her sides. “In case you’re interested in changing that, your mom could sure use a hug right about now,” she said.
Justin stood up and stepped forward, wrapping her in a tight hug.
“My goodness, Justin,” she said, pulling back to look at him for a second. “You’re officially as tall as I am now.” She shook her head and squeezed him close again.
Over her shoulder, Justin looked through the kitchen window and saw his dad standing in the yard, watching them. Max lay on the ground behind him. His dad’s brow was tightly knit and his lips were pressed firmly together. Justin was surprised to see that his dad looked like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then his dad gave Justin a quick—almost invisible—nod before looking away.
A SHARP, DESPERATE WAIL PIERCED THE NIGHTTIME quiet. Max.
That dog had been barking his head off for hours. So much for the happy, mellow Max.
Justin rolled over in his bed and pulled a pillow across his head. He held the cushion firmly against his ear, but he could still hear Max’s howling.
The noise stopped for a millisecond. Justin released his grip on the pillow, but before he could even get his hopes up, the growling and barking started right up again. It shifted from a deep bass to a high-pitched whine and back again.
Justin kept his eyes shut, but sleep was impossible. There was no way Max could possibly keep this up all night, he thought. Right?
“JUSTIN!”
His dad’s angry voice boomed from down the hall. He was not a man who liked to have his sleep interrupted.
“Get out there and quiet that dog down!”
Justin let out a frustrated groan and hurled the pillow across the room. It rattled his dresser and slid to the ground with a soft plonk.
Why is this my problem? he wanted to shout back at his dad. He isn’t even my dog.
But Justin kept his mouth shut and stomped over to his bedroom door. He flung it open, not bothering to stop it from smacking into the wall. Justin moved past his parents’ room and down the hall to Kyle’s room. He was so irritated—and distracted by the yelping and howling outside—that for a moment, he almost forgot. He was about to knock on his brother’s door . . . but there was no need to knock.
Justin wrapped his hand around Kyle’s doorknob. Kyle, who would know how to get his dog to shut up. Kyle, who had gone to Afghanistan with Max by his side. Only one of them had come home alive—and that one was in the backyard barking for attention in the middle of the night. And there was no one to give it to him but Justin.
Max’s lonely cries echoed in the backyard. Justin could hear his parents through the wall, speaking in a harsh whisper. He stepped into Kyle’s darkened bedroom, flicked on the light, and knelt down by the footlocker on the floor. He wrapped his fingers around the Kong.
“Justin—are you gonna shush that dog?” his dad yelled.
Justin ignored him again and went downstairs. He crossed the darkened living room and kitchen, stepping through the back door and into the cool evening air. The yard was lit by the nearly full moon, which hung bright and high in the sky. At the sound of the door sliding open, Max’s black snout shot toward Justin, and his eyes glinted in the moonlight. He stopped midbark. It was suddenly so quiet that Justin could hear the dog’s name tag jingling against his collar. After all that noise, the silence was precious.
Justin stood in his pajama pants and sweatshirt, the grass poking at his bare feet, not completely sure what he should do. He held the Kong behind his back and took a step toward Max. Max watched Justin approach, his eyes shadowed and wary. Justin thought the dog looked sad, then shook the thought out of his head. Max was a million times better off than he had been this morning in the kennel, so why was he so upset?
“You gonna stop that freakin’ noise now?” Justin said. His voice sounded louder than he meant it to. Max’s wet nose twitched. Justin took another couple of steps forward, and the dog let out a low, soft whimper. Justin got closer, and suddenly Max started barking again, the sound ricocheting off the house and vibrating in Justin’s eardrums. Dogs from around the neighborhood responded with excited barks of their own.
“Oh come on,” Justin grumbled. Max snapped his mouth shut with a little clack of his teeth. He whimpered once and did a nervous dance with his feet. His nails dug into the grass.
Justin held the Kong out in front of him. Max’s eyes grew round with excitement as he studied the toy, his ears rising slowly in sharp peaks. Justin made the “sit” gesture Reyes had taught him.
“Sit,” he commanded.
Max barked, a minor complaint.
Justin repeated the hand motion. “Sit.”
Max sat. Justin tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t believe it had actually worked. Justin slowly raised the Kong toward Max’s nose. “Easy, boy. Easy . . .”
Max stretched his snout out gingerly, taking quick short breaths through his nose. Every muscle in his body tensed, as if he were poised to attack the enemy or discover a cache of weapons.
Boy and dog stayed perfectly still for a brief moment, suspended in a state of mutual longing—Justin for quiet, Max for the Kong.
“Attaboy,” Justin whispered.
Max’s eyes remained locked on the red toy as he brought his mouth ever so slightly closer to it. Finally, his muzzle rested against the smooth rubber. He opened his mouth slowly, and gently closed his teeth around the Kong. Justin pulled his hand away as Max began chomping, loud and hard.
“Good boy, Max,” Justin said softly, still trying not to spook the dog. Justin wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he couldn’t resist: He reached out his hand to pet Max’s head. “Good boy.”
Without even looking in Justin’s direction, Max ducked and jerked his head away before Justin could touch him. The dog scooted backward and dropped to the ground, where he lay on his belly and maneuvered the Kong with his mouth and two front paws. Justin took a step backward.
“Looks like you’re cool now, Max,” he said. “See you in the morning.”
Justin walked back toward the house. Suddenly, he heard Max’s long chain rattling, and the dog began barking and howling even louder than before. Justin spun around to see Max up on his back feet, straining forward against the chain, his collar tight around his throat.
“What is wrong with you, Max?”
In reply, Max stopped barking and sat down. Justin studied him for a long moment, not sure what to do, then shrugged and started to leave again. Max raised his nose toward the sky and let out a long, distressed howl. AHWOOOOO.
“JUSTIN!” his dad bellowed from inside the house.
“I’m trying!” Justin shouted over Max’s wailing.
“Y’all shut that dog up,” came a voice from the house next door. “You hear me, Wincott? Shut him up or I’m coming out with my .45!”
“Come on over, Mr. Hidalgo,” Justin called back. “You’d be doing me a favor, seriously!”
The only response was the slamming of the Hidalgos’ window. Justin took that as a good sign.
The chorus of voices only upset Max more. He was back up on his hind legs, pulling harder against the chain, barking frantically. Justin’s nerves were shot, his ears were ringing, and he just wanted the sound to stop—he wanted it all to stop. He just wanted life to return to the way it was before Kyle left. Before Kyle died. Before Max came to live with them. He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists. The barking pounded into his head.
Justin opened his eyes.
“What do you want, Max?” he asked through gritted teeth. He took a step toward the dog.
Max stopped barking.
A thought occurred to Justin, and he backed away. Max let out a low growl. Justin stepped forward again. Max went silent, his eyes big and hopeful.
“No way. You—you want me to stay?” Justin asked. He shook his head and let out a laugh. “I’m not staying out here with you. My bed’s in there.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the house. “Sit, Max. Just—sit. Please.”
Max sat and bowed his head a little. Justin tried to leave again, but Max’s woeful whimpering stopped him in his tracks. Justin exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging. There was no getting out of this—not if he wanted anyone in the entire neighborhood to get any sleep. He walked back to Max, who looked up at him expectantly.
“Fine,” Justin said, flopping down onto the grass, but keeping a few feet between him and Max. “But I can’t stay here all night. Just until you fall asleep.” They stared at each other as they came to an understanding. “Okay?”
Max lay back down on his belly and, tilting his head sideways, snatched up the Kong with the side of his mouth.
“Right. Okay,” Justin said.
Max paid Justin no mind as he got to work on his chew toy. Great, Justin thought. So I’ll sit here on the wet grass instead of in my warm bed, and you’ll just ignore me. Justin ripped up a handful of grass and poked at it in his palm. The night surrounded him. The only sound was the gnawing of Max’s teeth against the rubber, which was now coated in thick slobber. Justin lay back and stared up at the moon and the thin clouds painted against the dark sky.
I’ll just lie here for a minute, he thought as sleep took over.
SOMETHING PAINFULLY BRIGHT WAS SHINING AGAINST his eyelids. Justin opened his eyes and squinted into the flat morning sun.
“What the—”
He sat up and looked around, confused. His head was pounding, and his neck and back were stiff. The day was already hot. Max sat just inches away, his paws lined up straight out in front of him, his ears pricked up and his eyes on Justin. Like he’s been watching me, Justin thought.
“How long have I been asleep?” Justin asked. Max sniffed at him, his nose brushing almost imperceptibly against Justin’s arm. Max exhaled sharply through his nostrils, his breath hot on Justin’s skin.
“Justin? What are you doing out here?”
Justin whipped his head around to see his mom standing in her pink bathrobe.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you been out here all night?” she called from the doorway.
Justin glanced at Max, who put his head down on his paws, as if he could finally get some rest after a long night’s watch. Max’s tail thumped gently against the grass.
“No. I mean, yeah, I guess. Sort of. I was just . . . hanging out with Max,” Justin said to his mom.
A huge grin broke out on her face. “Looks like you could use some pancakes.” She stepped back inside the house. Justin could see her moving around the kitchen. He stretched his arms over his head and looked down at Max. “You must be hungry, too, boy.”
Max just gazed up at him with his big brown eyes.
Mom stuck her head out the kitchen window.
“I almost forgot,” she said. “Chuy called. He said it’s urgent.”