Siria sat back. And sometimes people were right.
The bus slowed down. Almost as if she knew what Siria was thinking, Izzy tapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t forget Douglas.”
Siria answered carefully. “I’ll think about that.”
That Christmas long ago. Were they five that year? They might have been six. Douglas had made her a necklace out of strips of colored paper. She’d worn it every day until it had fallen apart. And even then she’d kept it in her dresser drawer.
She followed Izzy off the bus. She hoped Izzy wouldn’t notice the tears in her eyes.
CHAPTER 14
It was getting dark; silver-gray clouds covered the sky. Siria shrugged into her jacket. She’d meant what she’d said to Laila about Douglas. She’d follow him, watching.
But first, the dog. Had he made it back to the basement, or was he still out somewhere? Caught, or wandering around? Hungry?
“I’ll be back,” she called to Mimi, and went down to the third floor. Douglas’s brother Kevin was coming out, and she stood at the open elevator door. “Where’s Douglas?”
Kevin shrugged. “Watching TV.”
She tried to think of how to ask … what to say.
But Kevin didn’t get into the elevator with her. He took the stairs. “Ruined the kitchen,” she thought she heard him say.
The elevator door closed and she pressed the button for the basement, her mouth dry.
The dog wasn’t in the basement or outside in the alley.
So, Douglas.
She’d go back upstairs and sit on the fourth-floor landing, hidden, waiting for him to come out.
She sat there, halfway between Douglas’s floor and the fifth floor. Looking up, she could see that the door to the empty apartment was open. She’d take a quick look.
Someone had left a window open in the living room, and the wind had scattered swirls of snow on the floor and a piece of rug. An empty water bottle was on the sill. It reminded her of Izzy’s story about the glasses exploding on a hot summer day, and people believing the owner had set the fire.
She wandered through the rest of the apartment. The bedrooms were like hers and Pop’s. The bathroom tile was green instead of white, and there was a long crack in the mirror.
She was staring at her two half faces when she heard the outside door close. She tried not to breathe as she crept into the corner behind the open door, her hand to her mouth.
How could she explain if she was caught?
Above her head, the cracked mirror reflected the world outside. Everything was divided in half, the white hills, the frozen creek, someone running along the edge wearing a dark green jacket.
Had Douglas left his apartment? So quickly?
All was quiet now, no footsteps, not a sound. She pushed the bathroom door with one finger, waited, then ran through the apartment. Someone must have closed the door from the outside.
She’d go after Douglas. Now.
She opened the door again, not quite closing it, and skittered down the stairs and outside.
By the time she reached the creek, huge flakes were falling and it was almost dark. Was someone crying? She stood entirely still, listening, but the wind was strong and it was impossible to be sure.
The sound stopped. She walked along the edge of the creek, climbing over the slippery rocks, and heard a soft whine on the other side of the creek, close to the pipe. It was the dog. She put one boot out, touching the ice, tapping to see if it would hold her weight. But even if she went through, the water would only reach her knees.
Possible. But so cold. She took another step and her foot broke through the ice. Water seeped into her boots, freezing against her toes.
She took a few more steps. And there he was, lying with his feet and legs in the water. “What are you doing here?”
Was he caught somehow?
The chain ran along inside the pipe, and even though she pulled hard, she couldn’t get it loose. She yanked off her mittens, dropping them on the ice, and bent down to run her hands along the chain. To one side, through the snow, she caught a glimpse of someone under an evergreen.
A flash of color. Green? A green jacket?
Douglas?
She called out to him. “I see you.”
There was a shower of snow from the branches as the person moved.
“Douglas?”
The dog trembled beside her.
It wasn’t Douglas. She could see that. Someone taller than Douglas, bigger. But wearing his green jacket.
Who?
She tried to free the dog, almost in a panic to get away from there and whoever was watching.
It was too dark to see the chain as it snaked inside the pipe, which was covered with frozen reeds. She pushed herself in, sleeves soaking, shoulders tight against the rusted sides, with just enough room to run her hands around the surface.
She reached out, stretching, searching, until she felt the end of the chain. Her fingers were numb; it was so hard to get it loose.
And someone was watching. Someone who wasn’t Douglas.
The chain gave, and she backed out of the pipe, shivering, wet. The dog, shivering too, didn’t even realize he was free.
Siria threw her arms around him, glancing over her shoulder. “We’re going home.”
It was almost as if he couldn’t move. How long had he been standing in the water? Somehow, she dragged him out of the creek.
Another shower of snow cascaded through the branches.
Hurry!
She pulled at the dog’s chain and began to run. The dog loped after her, and she almost tripped, looking back, righting herself, reaching the avenue, the dog so close she could feel his wet fur against her jeans.
She slapped at her pockets with frosty fingers. No key. But going around to the back of the building was just too much.
Almo sat near the front door, his chair tipped back against the wall, asleep.
Siria knocked at the door until he jumped. The chair banged down as he stood up to let her in. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. “Where have you been? Out in the storm with that dog?”
He kept talking as Siria walked across the lobby, the dog’s claws clicking against the muddy tile floor. She rang for the elevator.
What would Mimi say when she saw them?
The doors opened and the dog followed her inside.
She glanced back. Almo was still staring at her and the puddles they’d left on the floor.
CHAPTER 15
A note was propped up next to a tuna fish sandwich and a glass of juice on the kitchen table.
Downstairs in my apartment wrapping presents. Come down if you need me.
Back soon.
Love,
Mimi
Siria dropped half the sandwich on the floor for the dog and wolfed down the other half, still shivering.
Someone was wearing Douglas’s jacket.
The dog looked up at her, waiting for more.
She filled a bowl with water and fed him a can of Viennese frankfurters from the back of the cabinet.
He sank down then and closed his eyes.
She thought of Izzy’s story again. People jumping to conclusions.
Not Douglas.
Maybe not.
Tomorrow, after the snow had stopped, she’d get to the bottom of all this. At least she’d try.
She looked down at the dog, the red sore the rope had rubbed into the dog’s neck, the curved ribs under his fur, and the chain wrapped around one paw. How terrible he smelled; how matted his fur felt.
She reached for the scissors in the cabinet and began to hack at the rope. It was thick and wet and took forever before it fell away, and the chain with it.
What else could she do? Suppose she gave him a warm bath?
Why not!
He followed her down the hall to the bathroom and watched, head tilted, as she filled the tub with a couple of inches of warm water. How good it felt to her stiff, cold hands.
&nbs
p; She peeled off her wet socks; her feet were red and even colder than her fingers. She turned to see the dog chewing on the towel she’d dropped on the floor.
She leaned forward. “Just jump in. Nothing to it.”
He sat back.
She tried to put his paws on the edge of the tub. “Nice in there. Warm and cozy.”
It didn’t work.
She tried to lift him, but he pushed against her with his large paws, the pads rough and scarred. She slid backward into the tub with him, splashing the tile walls and the floor.
He was ready to scramble out, but she held him and talked softly as she reached for the soap. In one minute, the water was filthy. She was filthy, too, soaked again, and she hadn’t even begun to wash him.
She pulled the plug to get rid of the water and turned on the faucet for another couple of inches. She knelt there, scrubbing him with Pop’s clean-smelling soap, working at the knots in his fur with her fingers, his fur lighter and curlier as she scrubbed.
Douglas isn’t the arsonist. Never mind what Kevin said. Never mind that Douglas loves fires.
I should trust him.
She rinsed the dog, watching the muddy water swirl down the drain until it turned lighter and, finally, clear.
They were both dripping wet as they came out of the tub. The dog shook himself until the whole bathroom was a mess, lines of water running down the walls, the mirror cloudy, puddles all over the floor.
Siria dried him with a towel and reached for a brush in the cabinet under the sink. She kept working at the knots until his fur was smooth. Then she sat back. He seemed like a different dog. His fur was thick and almost a caramel color; his ears felt like velvet. He looked as if he belonged to someone.
If only he belonged to her.
Something kept nudging at her mind. Something about him. He’d been in the movie theater. At the creek. Maybe even the shed. What did that have to do with the fires?
She wrapped a towel around her shoulders and leaned back against the wall. The dog curled up next to her on the mat. For the first time since she’d gone to the creek, she thought about what had happened. She’d rescued him. Siria the shrimp, able to get halfway into that pipe! She’d saved that dog!
If she could do that, maybe she could solve the fire starting.
She put her hand on his head. What would Pop say to a dog?
He’d say no. He’d remind her of guppies in a bowl, or hermit crabs. No fleas, no dog walking in the snow.
But for the first time she knew what Pop meant when he said “The rescue is everything.”
She bent over the dog, resting her head on his broad back.
She didn’t know how long they slept on the tile floor, but a noise woke her. She stood up and opened the bathroom door.
Mimi’s hand was up, ready to knock. Her mouth fell open when she saw the dog asleep on the mat. “Siria!”
He slept on, almost as if he belonged there, in that warm, steamy bathroom.
If only he did.
“The dog can’t stay,” Mimi said.
“It’s late,” Siria said. “Just tonight.”
Mimi sighed. “Just this night, and that’s it! We’ll have to take him to the animal shelter, where someone will give him a home.”
Siria blinked back tears. The only home she wanted for him was right there with her.
CHAPTER 16
Early Thursday morning, Siria’s fingers flew, texting Pop. Come home, hurry. It’s Christmas Eve. We’ll have Mimi’s cookies and you can work on a new ship.
Home before you know it, he answered. Feeling good. Miss you.
But before he came home, Siria was determined to find out who had set those fires. She bit her lip. She’d have to talk to Douglas, too.
She remembered thinking there was a connection between the dog and the places that had been on fire. What about the movie theater? Maybe she could find a clue there that would tell her what had happened. She threw on her clothes.
The dog watched her from the bed. As soon as she opened the door, he was right behind her. She stopped in the kitchen for a plate of cookies for her teacher, Mrs. Hall. She’d go there first.
She tiptoed past Mimi, asleep on the couch. Outside the sky was almost light. One star still glowed. “Morning star,” she breathed. Fresh snow covered the sidewalks, and the sound of shovels scraping it away was everywhere. She waved at Mr. Trencher and the dry cleaner and kept going, block after block. She rang the teacher’s bell, left the cookies, and kept going …
Past the empty lots … past the old factories … until she stood in front of the movie theater. Boards covered the front door.
She went around the snowy alley to the back, the dog following. The door was boarded up, too; a Dumpster pushed against the wall. There was no way to get inside.
She twirled around. The dog was gone. Nothing but paw prints in the snow against the wall. They stopped at the Dumpster.
“Hey.” She peered into the narrow space between the Dumpster and the wall. More paw prints, but he’d disappeared.
Sideways, she edged her way behind the Dumpster, too.
Her jacket scraped against the wall. There was hardly room to move. Siria the shrimp. No one else could have done that.
Halfway along, she found another door. It was partially open, and the dog was inside. She followed him, scraping her cheek against the molding. The acrid smell of old smoke burned her throat. A dark film had inched its way up the side wall, and the hems of the velvet curtains were shredded. But the rest of the theater was untouched.
The dog ran up the three steps to the stage and the old movie screen, which was torn around the edges, and disappeared again.
How well he knew this place. She climbed the steps. He was sniffing in back of the screen, then stretched himself out, paws extended, eyes closed.
Asleep?
She crouched down next to him. And then she saw it. Such a small thing. The tip of a knife embedded in the wooden floor. It reminded her of the knife she and Laila had tried to use when they wanted to become blood sisters. Not very sharp. And beyond that was a smear of food on the screen and another scrap of green.
It looked as if the food had spurted out of a can.
She covered the knife tip with the green cloth, put it in her pocket, and left the dog to wander through the theater. Nothing else was left, not the pieces of wood or the charred paper. Everything had been cleaned. She climbed to the balcony and looked down.
Mimi would be awake by now, wondering where she was. “Come on, dog,” Siria called, and squeezed herself back outside into the daylight.
She slid into the apartment as Mimi was stretching, ready to make breakfast. They ate with the dog under the table. Siria slipped out of her boots and rubbed her feet against his soft fur. What was going to happen to him?
After breakfast, Siria felt Mimi’s warm arms around her. “I’m sorry,” Mimi said. “Your father will be home soon, and this dog has to go. I’ll get my coat. We’ll take him to the vet. Maybe he can tell us what to do.”
Siria caught her breath.
“Are you paying attention, Siria?”
“I know. I’ll walk him first.”
Mimi sighed. “Yes, I’ll just finish up the dishes.”
Siria reached for her jacket and wound a dry scarf around her neck. “Come on, dog,” she said softly.
Outside in the hall: “No pound for you,” she said. “Suppose no one wants you? You’d be better off in the basement. I’ll tell Mimi …”
What? She tried to think as they walked around the block a couple of times. Back at the apartment house, Siria brushed snow off her shoulders and the dog shook himself, sending droplets like rain over the floor.
He didn’t mind the elevator, but when the doors opened to the basement, he sat back, front legs gripping the floor.
“You know this place,” Siria told him.
He didn’t move.
“I’ll bring you food. Lots of food. You can go out whenever you like.
”
It was almost as if he understood her. He turned his head away.
Someone upstairs rang for the elevator; the doors were closing. “Please,” she said, even though she knew it was useless. And then she realized they could go upstairs to the empty apartment.
She pressed the button for five.
CHAPTER 17
Inside the apartment, she stood there listening as the dog wandered from the living room toward the bedrooms. What did she hear? The click of his claws against the wood floor. But something else. Was someone whispering? She backed away toward the door, hardly making a sound.
“Who let you in?” the voice said. A boy, talking to the dog.
She had to pass the hallway.
Could he see her?
She tripped over something under her feet, and glanced down. A green jacket.
“Hey!” The voice again.
She ran. Slid out the door. Down the hall. Never mind the elevator. Grabbed the handrail and dashed up the stairs, two at a time.
And rushed inside to Mimi. Safe. Not even thinking of locking the door behind her.
“Where have you been?” Mimi asked. “And the dog?”
Siria sank down on the living room couch. “Gone.” She raised her shoulders.
“Ran away? I’m sorry about him,” Mimi said. “But maybe it’s just as well.” Then she smiled. “Izzy is on her way over with a tree. Your father will be here tomorrow.”
Siria reached out and danced Mimi around the kitchen. Pop home! Getting better! Sitting in his big chair. “Oh, Mimi. I’ll be so glad.”
In front of them, the door opened a few inches.
Mimi turned. And Siria …
… eyes widening.
The dog!
He went past them into her bedroom, Siria thinking, He acts as if he belongs here. If only he did.
Then, How did he get out of that apartment? And who was in there?
She closed the door and locked it, feeling someone’s hand pushing from the other side.
“It’s me,” Izzy called. She and Almo carried in a tree, smelling of pine and outdoors.
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