Brave

by Jennifer Li Shotz

  “I don’t hate you,” Dylan said. “And I’m not moving on, I’m just . . . I don’t know . . .” He searched for the right word. “Expanding. Plus I felt like you were moving on, too.”

  “I’m not!” Jaxon said. “Maybe I’m expanding too.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Dylan replied.

  “Soooo,” Jaxon said, “if you’re not moving on, and I’m not moving on, then we can still be friends, right?”

  Dylan studied Jaxon’s remorseful face for a second. “Jax,” Dylan said softly. “I’ll always be your friend. I just don’t always want to do some of the stuff you want to do. But I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Yeah, I mean it.”

  “Awesome,” Jaxon said with a weary smile.

  * * *

  Their bikes were long gone, so they plodded along through the twilight on foot. As soon as they got back into cell phone range, they texted their parents to say they were safe, on their way home . . . and very, very sorry. Their parents replied with a variety of choice words, but mostly relief.

  The storm clouds continued to break, and stars began to appear one by one and twinkle overhead. Dylan paused and looked up, letting his relief and a wave of exhaustion wash over him.

  They’d done it. They’d saved Brave and were taking him home.

  Grace and Jaxon stopped to look up too. Just then, Brave froze on the path ahead of them, and his ears swung forward on his head. He fixated on a spot in the underbrush, and a low growl escaped his throat. Dylan heard rustling in the leaves followed by a lot of frantic squeaking. A rodent of some kind was probably packing up its whole family and plotting an escape at the sight of the dog.

  “Brave, come,” Dylan said. With a longing look at the bushes, Brave obeyed the command and trotted over to Dylan’s side.

  “That’s amazing,” Jaxon said. “He’s so well trained.”

  “That’s Grace,” Dylan replied. “She taught me how to teach Brave.”

  “You did all the work,” Grace said.

  “Grace . . .” Jaxon said. “Nice job. Dylan told me you’re really good with animals.”

  Grace shrugged. “I’ve just grown up with them, that’s all. And Brave’s a great dog.” She looked at Jaxon, and for the first time in Dylan’s memory, she wasn’t shooting daggers at him with her eyes. In fact, he thought he saw her almost smile. “But thanks,” she said to Jaxon.

  As he watched Grace’s expression soften and Jaxon finally say something nice for once, Dylan felt a burst of hope. He could picture the two of them maybe, just maybe, getting along. Then he let himself entertain an even crazier thought that would have seemed impossible only a few hours earlier: What if his oldest friend and his newest friend actually really liked each other? What if they could all hang out together?

  He couldn’t imagine anything better.

  Just then, Brave stuffed his snout into Dylan’s palm, looking for a pat.

  Unless, Dylan thought as he ran a thumb over the dog’s forehead, Brave is there too.

  ★ Chapter 26 ★

  * * *

  * * *

  Dylan had never been so happy to see his front yard before. It was night by the time he, Brave, Grace, and Jaxon finally made their way back home. The bedraggled crew stopped outside Dylan’s house.

  Dylan turned to the others. “See you at school tomorrow?”

  Jaxon groaned. “Ugh. I forgot it was a school night.”

  “Assuming I’m not so grounded I can’t even go to school,” Grace said. “I’m so late. I have to go.”

  “Good night,” Dylan said. “Thank you so much, Grace.”

  She nodded and shot him a small smile. “You’re welcome, Dylan. You’ll make it up to me when you clear twice as much land tomorrow.”

  His face lit up. “I can come back to the ranch?”

  “Like I said—if you clear twice as much land, you can.”

  “Deal.”

  “Night, Jaxon,” Grace said.

  Dylan held his breath.

  “Night, Grace.” Jaxon said. “Thanks for . . . you know. Everything.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, then paused. “I know we haven’t always agreed on things, but I’m really glad we’re friends. I just wanted to say that. And, um, you’re both officially Ranch Kids now, whether you like it or not.”

  Dylan laughed as Jaxon made a face. “Fine,” Jaxon said. “But that means you have to be in our water balloon fights every weekend now.”

  “You got it,” Grace said with a smirk. “And I’m going to win.”

  All of a sudden, Grace stepped forward and hugged Jaxon, then Dylan. Shock radiated through Dylan’s system, but he hugged her back. Part of him wanted to play it cool—even though he could sense that something was different between himself and Grace, not just between Grace and Jaxon. It was as if they were becoming real friends.

  With a final wave goodbye, Grace headed down the road back to her house.

  “You were right about her,” Jaxon said once Grace was out of earshot. “The same way you were right about Brave.” At the sound of his name, Brave trotted over to Jaxon, stood up on his hind legs, and put his front paws on Jaxon’s leg. “Yeah, I’m talking about you,” Jaxon said, giving Brave a couple of good solid scratches behind the ears. Brave wagged his tail and let out a contented yip.

  “Well, I better go in and face my mom,” Dylan said. “Night, Jax.”

  “Night, Dyl.”

  Dylan shut the back door quietly behind him, but his mom was in the kitchen in an instant.

  “Oh, thank God you’re okay!” She wrapped him in a huge hug as Brave hopped all around her legs, as excited to see her as she was to see Dylan. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes—I’m fine, Mom. I’m so sorry—”

  She pulled away and Dylan saw that she had her phone to her ear. “He’s here, honey—I know. I know. Brave’s here too.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and pointed at the phone, mouthing your dad to Dylan. “Yes. I’ll tell him. No, he looks okay.” She sized up Dylan—soaking wet, slathered in dirt and mud, twigs in his hair, no shoelaces—and shook her head. “I think he has a lot to tell us about where he’s been. But don’t worry. I’ll punish him enough for both of us. I’ll have him call you later. Love you—bye.”

  “Mom—you won’t believe—”

  She cut him off. “We were about to send out a search party for you! Do you have any idea how scared we were? And Dad is so far away, he felt so helpless—oh, come here.” She pulled him into another hug, so tight she squeezed the air out of his lungs. “I’m so happy to see you, honey. Please don’t ever do that to us again or I will not survive it.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I really am.” Dylan felt terrible for scaring his parents so badly. But he really wanted to tell her about Brave, about how amazing the dog had been.

  His mom went to get two towels, one for him and one for Brave. Dylan wrapped himself in one, dried the dog off with the other, then collapsed onto the couch. Brave jumped up next to him, spun around three times, and lay down. Within seconds, Brave was sound asleep and snoring.

  “Now. Tell me what happened,” his mom said, sitting down on the other side of Brave.

  Dylan took a deep breath. And then he started at the beginning—with the cowboy hat, and Grace storming out of the classroom, and the fireworks . . . As he told his mom the story, the reality of what he and Brave and his friends had just been through began to fully hit him.

  “Brave saved Jaxon’s life, Mom,” Dylan said, his voice breaking. “He’s amazing—I wish you could have seen him. You have no idea how . . . well, brave he really is. I didn’t know what we were going to do, but he did.” Brave woke up and raised his head, squinted at Dylan—as if checking to make sure Dylan was okay—then dropped his head onto Dylan’s lap and closed his eyes again. “He wasn’t even scared by the noise of the water or anything. It was like he just . . . I don’t know . . . like he just did what he had to do.” />
  Dylan’s mom rubbed Brave behind the ears with both hands, and he let out a sleepy, happy grunt. “You did good, Brave. I’m so thankful you were there to help the kids.”

  She turned to Dylan, and he could tell by the look on her face that there was a big but coming.

  “But,” his mom said, her voice serious, “Dylan, you understand that Brave is also the reason you were out there in the first place?”

  Dylan saw where she was headed, and he wanted to change her mind. “I was out there because I made a bad decision to go with Jaxon,” he said quickly.

  “Well, yes, and that’s something we’re going to need to discuss, honey. But I mean that you had to go after Brave because he got scared by the fireworks and ran away. And it’s not just the fireworks or loud sounds. He’s unpredictable, and he’s a flight risk. I know you were trying to do your best, but you made a really dangerous choice out there. You can’t just chase after him every time. You’re safe today, but what about next time?”

  The lump in Dylan’s throat stopped him from answering.

  “I agree that Brave is a special dog, but I’m afraid he also has some really serious issues.” She let her words sink in for a second. “Grace has been amazing—I can see how much progress you guys have made. But it’s better for Brave if he gets real training. By an expert. Otherwise he’s going to keep putting you in bad situations, and that’s not something I’m willing to accept.”

  Dylan’s heart plunged into his stomach.

  “What are you saying, Mom?” he managed to utter. “Are you telling me I have to say goodbye to him for good?”

  She smiled. “No, honey—not for good. I’m saying that we’re going to find the best help possible for Brave, so that you won’t have to say goodbye. I found a trainer who specializes in helping dogs learn to cope with their stress. And, believe it or not, she’s willing to help him for a really low fee because he’s a hurricane dog. He’s going to go and live with her.”

  “Live with her?” Dylan couldn’t fight it—his eyes filled with tears. “You mean, he can’t stay here while he gets trained?”

  She put a hand on Dylan’s arm. “It’s only for a little while, honey, and if—if—Brave can get past this, then he’ll come back and you can keep him. We can keep him.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “He can do it, Mom—I know he can!” Dylan pumped both fists in the air. “Thanks, Mom!” He leaned across Brave and threw his arms around her, squishing the dog in the process. Brave rolled onto his back and kicked at Dylan’s stomach with his back legs. “Oh, sorry, boy.” Dylan sat up again. “But did you hear that? You’re going to get trained, and then you can stay!”

  Brave stretched all four paws in the air and let Dylan and his mom rub his belly.

  “You’re going to do great,” Dylan said. In response, the dog threw his head back and yowled. Dylan and his mom burst out laughing. “But first, boy,” Dylan said, wrinkling his nose, “you need a serious bath. You stink.”

  “I’ll call your father back while you take care of that,” his mom said.

  “Follow me, Brave.” Dylan led him down the hall. With a yawn, Brave walked straight into the bathroom and hopped into the tub on Dylan’s command.

  For the first time since he’d found Brave in that alley, hiding behind a dumpster, Dylan was filled with hope that they could—and would—be together forever.

  ★ Chapter 27 ★

  * * *

  * * *

  He’d known this day was coming for a week, but that didn’t seem to make it any easier. It was time to say goodbye to Brave.

  Dylan sat up in bed and stared out the window. In a couple of hours, he and his mom would drive Brave to a kennel outside the city, where Brave would live for the foreseeable future. There was no telling how long it would be—it might be a couple of weeks or a few months. But the good news was that no one had claimed Brave at the shelter, so if Dylan’s parents agreed, they could officially adopt Brave when he came back.

  The trainer his mom had found was known as the best in the region, and she’d helped many other dogs who’d been traumatized by hurricanes or other big, scary events. Brave would be comfortable—he’d have a few acres to roam and run freely, and lots of other dogs to keep him company. He’d be well taken care of, and Dylan would get to visit on the weekends to see Brave’s progress. But Brave wasn’t the only one who would have to work hard. Dylan would be expected to train with Brave when he was there visiting.

  This was what would be best for Brave—Dylan knew that. Then why did it still hurt so much to say goodbye?

  Brave was sound asleep at the foot of Dylan’s bed, his paws twitching like he was chasing a squirrel in a dream. Dylan kicked off the covers and flipped over on his bed, lying on his stomach with his face next to Brave’s.

  “Morning, buddy,” he said. Brave opened one eye and stared at him. He opened his mouth to yawn, letting out a squeaky yowl and a blast of warm dog breath right onto Dylan’s face. “Delicious,” Dylan groaned.

  He sat up and took Brave’s head in his hands. They stared at each other for a minute.

  “Listen,” Dylan said. “We’re going to take you somewhere today, and you’re probably going to wonder why I’m leaving you there.” He felt a sharp pang—would Brave think he was abandoning him? “But it’s just temporary, okay? And you’re going to work really hard, and I’m going to come see you as much as I can, and then we’re going to be together again.”

  Brave put one paw on Dylan’s arm and nuzzled Dylan’s cheek with his cool wet nose. Dylan thought back to Brave running over the slippery logs, pulling Jaxon by the shirt, and diving into the dark, churning water to save him—and he knew everything was going to be okay.

  “All you need to do,” he said, smiling down at the dog, “is be brave.”

  * * *

  Dylan didn’t speak for the entire car ride. He sat in the back so he could spend every last second with Brave, who had his head on his lap. Dylan absentmindedly stroked the dog’s ears and ran his fingers through the smooth fur around his neck.

  His phone dinged in his pocket. It was a text from his dad.

  I know it’s a tough day but I’m proud of you.

  Thanks dad, Dylan texted back.

  This is what’s best for Brave and the family, his dad wrote.

  I know. But I’m going to miss him.

  Yeah. I know what it’s like to miss someone you love.

  Ha. Funny. Love you.

  Love you too.

  When they got to the kennel, a tall, smiling woman greeted them at the front.

  “I’m Amelia.” She gave Dylan’s hand a firm shake. “You must be Dylan. And you”—she turned to the dog—“are definitely Brave.” She held out a hand for Brave to investigate with a good sniff. “We’re going to get along great. Sit,” she said in a clear, strong voice. Brave sat, and she gave him a treat from a small bag hanging from her hip. “Good boy.”

  Something about her demeanor comforted Dylan. Amelia was warm and friendly, but firm—in charge. He knew in his gut that Brave would be in good hands.

  “So, Dylan,” Amelia said, after she’d led them on a tour of the spotless facility and back to their car. “I want you to know that I will care for Brave as if he were my dog. But—” She stopped and turned to him for emphasis. “He’s not here on vacation. He’s going to be working very hard, and I have high expectations for him. It’s a hard road for dogs with serious trauma, and he’s got a lot of learning to do.”

  Dylan nodded. “I know. He can handle it.”

  “Well, he’s already off to a great start.”

  “He is?” Dylan asked.

  Amelia smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “He really is. You did a great job training him—especially for someone who has never had a dog before. I can tell already that he’s bonded with you, which is so important and will make all the difference in his training. And he wants to do a good job. That’s half the battle rig
ht there.”

  “So you think he has a shot?” Dylan asked.

  “I do,” Amelia said. “Thanks to you.”

  Relief washed over Dylan. He dropped to his knees and held Brave’s head in his hands. The look of fear and confusion in the dog’s eyes nearly broke Dylan’s heart. He wrapped his arms around Brave’s neck, and Brave leaned into him, as if he knew that this was goodbye, at least for a little while.

  “You got this, buddy,” Dylan whispered into Brave’s ear. “I know you do. I’ll see you really soon, okay?”

  Dylan held on for just one more second. Then he forced himself to stand up, turn away, and get in the car—leaving Brave behind.

  * * *

  The night sky rumbled like a drum. Dylan wrapped his sweatshirt snugly around himself and pulled his knees into his chest. They had just finished dinner, and he and his mom were sitting together on the porch, waiting for the rain to start.

  The first day without Brave had been strange—Dylan kept thinking he saw the dog out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, nothing was there. They hadn’t even had Brave for very long, but already Dylan had gotten so used to him, like he’d always been a part of their household. Dylan could tell his mom was surprised by the stillness and quiet too.

  He peered up at the dark sky just as a bolt of lightning flashed. Then he counted the seconds until the thunder began again.

  “Do you think he’s okay—I mean, with the thunder?”

  “I think Amelia will make sure he is,” his mom replied.