I tested my fence once more before I headed over to Mr. Cobb’s house.
The sun chinned itself over the mountain. The trees above the ridge swayed, a high wind tossing them, but it was windless and hot down in the valley. I sat on Mr. Cobb’s porch steps, waiting.
The Cobbs’ hound, Truman, sat on the steps beside me.
“Morning, Tate,” Mrs. Cobb said, coming out onto the porch. Truman got up, tail wagging, and waddled over to her.
Mrs. Cobb had already set the coffee to perk on her woodstove. She had bacon sizzling in the pan. “You care for some breakfast?”
“No, ma’am,” I said, watching Truman follow on her heels. “I’m just waiting on Mr. Cobb.”
* * *
“You got directions to that doctor’s house?” Mr. Cobb asked as we wove our way over the mountain and turned onto Route 9.
He drove real slow, slow enough I could have run alongside and got there faster. Mr. Cobb’s driving nearly drove me crazy. I just wanted to get to Concord, to Sable.
“Yes, sir,” I said, bringing out the paper Pap had sketched a map on last night. I smoothed the directions out on Mr. Cobb’s dashboard.
“I don’t like the look of that sky,” Mr. Cobb said. “See if you can tune in some weather, Tate.”
I fiddled with Mr. Cobb’s radio. I couldn’t get much more than static.
The sky had turned yellow and still. Nothing moved in it. No birds, no clouds. You couldn’t see the sun. Just a pale yellow sky. Made me feel twitchy in the stomach.
Mr. Cobb got us close to Concord, then followed Pap’s directions. Suddenly I recognized a stand of pine. And then the beginning of Doc Winston’s fence.
“That’s it,” I said.
“Good. This storm looks nasty. I don’t want to be driving in it someplace I don’t know.”
* * *
Mr. Cobb parked outside the gate. I opened my car door. The hair stood up on my arms. It was still as death outside Doc Winston’s house. I heard no barking. Peering through the gate, my eyes searched for signs of Sable.
As I stood there, the sky opened. In a moment my overalls and T-shirt were soaking wet. Rain beat down through my hair and trickled along my scalp.
“Get back in the car, Tate,” Mr. Cobb called.
“No, sir!” I cried.
I opened the gate and slipped through, calling for Sable.
Sable didn’t come. Maybe Doc Winston had her in the house.
I rang the bell. Doc Winston opened his front door and motioned me inside.
Standing in his front hall, I dripped onto the pale patterned rug.
It took a while for me to explain who I was and what I was doing there.
“You’ve come looking for the dog?” Doc Winston asked.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Sable.”
“Why, she’s been gone for weeks,” Doc Winston said. “I’m so sorry you didn’t call before coming all this way.”
“She’s gone?” I asked.
Doc Winston nodded. “She just took off one day and never came back.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought it would just upset you,” Doc Winston said. “Besides, your knowing wouldn’t have brought her back.”
“You lost her!” I cried. “You lost Sable.”
“Come into the kitchen, honey,” Doc Winston said. “Let me give you something warm to drink.”
“No!” I cried. “I mean, no. Thank you, sir. Mr. Cobb’s waiting for me out in the car. I have to go.”
I looked back at Doc Winston before stepping out into the rain. “If you see her you’ll call, won’t you?”
Doc Winston nodded.
I stumbled back to Mr. Cobb’s car. The water streamed down my neck and my back and filled my shoes. My feet squished as I walked. I couldn’t have been wetter if I’d laid down fully dressed in a tub of water.
Mr. Cobb kept the heater running while he took care of his business in Concord.
We had to stop a lot on the way home because of branches down in the road. Mr. Cobb would put on the brake and I’d get out and drag the fallen limbs to the side so we could pass. Some of those branches weighed more than I did, but getting in and out of the car was hard on Mr. Cobb, so I took care of it.
I still hadn’t said a word about Sable when our driveway came into view, but I guess Mr. Cobb knew pretty much how things had gone.
“Sorry the day didn’t turn out better for you, Tate,” Mr. Cobb said.
I just stared at my hands.