Dog Show Disaster

by Missy Robertson

  Lord, what is going on? Why did Mrs. Mellon have her baby today? And how can a baby that tiny survive?

  I cried a little bit. I had seen preemies in the NICU before—so helpless and attached to tons of tubes. I counted on my fingers how many months remained till August.

  Bethany Mellon had been born about four-and-a-half months premature.

  Raindrops began to fall on my face, and thunder roared in the distance.

  And having a premature infant meant . . . no way Mrs. Mellon could be the faculty advisor for the Canine Carnival and Dog Show.

  CHAPTER 11

  Cousins to the Rescue

  Allie! There you are!” Lola ran to where I was laying in the rain and got the knees of her stylish leggings wet when she kneeled to check on me. “Are you having an asthma attack?” She held one hand out to lift me up to a sitting position.

  I grabbed my forehead. “I don’t know. I’m short of breath, and the inhaler didn’t work, even after three puffs.”

  “Why did you run all the way out here? You could have passed out and no one would have known!”

  I rested my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just really upset about Mrs. Mellon’s baby.”

  And what is going to happen with the project.

  Lola sat down next to me. “We all are.” We stayed there for a moment, getting watered by the warm sprinkles. “We’ll just have to keep praying real hard. God will keep her safe.” Lola put an arm around my shoulders.

  “Hey—congratulations on winning the election. Our whole class seemed happy about it—even Madison.”

  “Thanks. It’s going to be a lot of work, and now with Mrs. Mellon out . . .”

  Lola gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, no, Allie! I hadn’t even thought about that! What are you going to do?”

  I stood and brushed the grass off my jeans. “I dunno. Resign? Is that an option? I mean, I’ve only officially been SPM for about ten minutes.”

  Lola picked up my backpack and handed it to me. “You can’t resign. Your idea is way too good. You should have heard everyone talking about their dogs as we were leaving today. They can’t wait for them to learn new tricks.”

  Kendall, Hunter, and Ruby came running out to the grass to meet us.

  “Oh, good, you found her!” Hunter put his hand out to catch some rain. “What are you doing out here? Are you okay?”

  Lola answered for me. “She’s fine. She’s just having a little panic attack since Mrs. Mellon won’t be helping with the school project.”

  “Panic?” I brushed her comment off with my hand. “No, it was asthma. And I’m better now.”

  “Allie, you haven’t had an asthma attack since you moved out of your old house and we got rid of the moldy Diva.” Kendall crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I think Lola’s right.”

  “I know I’d panic if I just got elected Student Project Manager.” Ruby reached out and pulled a piece of grass out of my hair. “Don’t worry, Allie, we’ll all help you out. I can organize a gigantic bake sale.”

  “And I have an idea that will bring in tons of money,” Hunter said. “I gotta talk to Mr. Dimple about it first, but soon I’ll reveal my plan.”

  Mr. Dimple is the town inventor. If he got involved in the year-end project, we could be catapulting dogs to the moon and back.

  “And I can line up some talent, so you have music goin’ all day long,” Kendall said.

  “Would you like me to paint a mural?” Lola asked. “We can come up with a theme, and then we can gift it to the animal shelter to put up on one of the walls.”

  My shoulders began to relax as I heard all my cousins’ ideas. We Carroways could practically pull this thing off by ourselves. I breathed in deep and smiled.

  “Thanks, you guys. I feel a lot better now.”

  The sprinkles gave way to real rain, so we ran back to the safety of the covered quad area and sat down at our regular center table.

  “Where’s Aunt Kassie?” I plopped my backpack down and scanned the empty parking lot. My aunt—Hunter and Kendall’s mom—was supposed to pick us up today, and she’s always early.

  Kendall checked her phone. “Uh-oh. Here’s a text from Mom.” She sighed and read out loud, “Got a flat. Be there soon.”

  “Well, I’m starving,” Hunter said. “Anyone have any lunch left?”

  I pulled my half-eaten sandwich out of my backpack. “Here you go. You need to stop growing. Good thing you always wear shorts, so you don’t have to worry about flood pants.”

  Hunter took a huge bite and talked while he chewed. “Yeah, I know. I keep running into doorways and knocking over cups. I think my arms have grown two inches this spring, and I’m not used to it.”

  Ruby pulled some homemade kettle corn out of her backpack and poured some into each of our hands.

  “You should make this at the carnival,” I said. “People can’t stop eating this stuff.”

  Ruby smiled. “Whatever you want, cousin.”

  Right then, the door of the administration office flew open, and out walked a very tall Mr. Langley, and a very short—but tough-looking—Miss Lewis.

  Mr. Langley looked over at our table and then walked over with Miss Lewis.

  “Did someone forget to pick up the famous Carroway cousins?”

  Kendall held up her phone and pointed to it. “Flat tire. She’s on her way.”

  Mr. Langley nodded. “Oh, well that’s good. And this is fortuitous timing, since I wanted to talk to you anyway, Allie.”

  “You wanted to talk to me?” I said through my kettle-corn crunching.

  “Yes. First, I’d like to congratulate you on being elected Student Project Manager—and by a landslide victory! That shows how much confidence all the kids in this school have in you.”

  “Thank you, sir. I feel privileged to serve.”

  And terrified.

  Mr. Langley continued, “But I was a little worried when Christie—I mean Mrs. Mellon—went out today. I wasn’t sure who we would replace her with for faculty advisor.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to put on a brave front. “I’m sure we’ll find someone. If you want, I can talk to some teachers and see if anyone . . .”

  Mr. Langley held his hand out to stop me. “Not necessary, because we’ve already had a volunteer.”

  “See, Allie?” Lola patted me on the back. “I told you everything would be okay.”

  Mr. Langley smiled. “Yes, it will be more than okay, and we won’t lose any planning time at all, because Miss Lewis has volunteered to take over the project starting today.”

  My ears began to ring, but I’m not sure if it was because of my sudden, increased headache, or because the clouds burst open at that moment, sending a driving rain that pounded on the aluminum roof that covers the quad. It was too loud to hear words, and it was a good thing, because I don’t think anyone knew what to say. Finally, the rain died down, and Miss Lewis spoke.

  “I’m looking forward to the challenge, Carroway. Meet me in my classroom at 0600 tomorrow. We’ve got a boatload of planning to do before the steering committee meeting.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Comedy Night

  Aunt Kassie finally arrived to pick us up, but I hardly remember getting in her car. We stopped at Walmart on the way home, but I couldn’t tell you what for. I don’t remember the conversations between my cousins, and I would have forgotten to buckle my seatbelt after leaving Walmart if Lola hadn’t reached for it and shoved the strap in my hand.

  “Allie, everything’s going to be okay. I’ve been in her class all year and look at me. I’m surviving.”

  I scanned Lola’s face, and noticed that little eye twitch that she’d picked up over the last few months. She’d also taken up biting her pinkie fingernail.

  “Remember, she grins with her eyes,” Hunter said. “And, I actually saw her forehead relax when she said 0600. Next thing you know, one corner of her mouth will turn up. You’ll see.”

  “0600.” I tipped my
head back on the headrest. “What time is that exactly?”

  Aunt Kassie caught my eye from the rearview. “That’s six o’clock in the morning. You may have to call a taxi.”

  “What could she possibly want me to do that early? School doesn’t start until eight.”

  Kendall threw a hand up in the air. “Calisthenics? A little mile running? Who knows with Miss Lewis.”

  Aunt Kassie chuckled. “You kids exaggerate so much when it comes to that Miss Lewis.”

  Kendall jumped on that. “Oh, no, there’s no exaggeration. She really is that horrible.”

  “Kendall . . .” Aunt Kassie turned around and gave Kendall the stink-eye.

  “Ask Wesley, he’ll tell you. He and Cody spent most of the year in detention.”

  Wesley is Kendall and Hunter’s older brother, and he’s a practical joker, just like Cody.

  Hunter started laughing. “Did they really set off fireworks on their class fieldtrip to Black Bayou Lake?”

  “No!” Aunt Kassie said. “It wasn’t them.”

  “But Miss Lewis blamed ’em for it,” Kendall said. “And they had to clean the school grounds every day after school for a month.”

  “And Miss Lewis hates Carroways because of that,” I said.

  “Hate is a strong word,” Aunt Kassie said. “I prefer we don’t use it from here on out.”

  “I’m a Carroway,” Hunter said. “And she doesn’t dislike me.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Kendall said. “What about that dinosaur essay you worked so hard on last month? You got, what? A D?”

  “But it was really bad, Kendall. And she let me make improvements. She said that essay would never cut it in high school.”

  “Don’t ya see, little brother? You’re not in high school yet, so she’s goin’ overboard on ya. I’m glad I didn’t end up in her class this year.”

  Aunt Kassie pulled the car into the driveway. Then she turned to talk to us.

  “Okay, time out. You need to stop all this negative talk. Y’all are better than that. God loves Miss Lewis, so even if she isn’t your favorite, you need to try to love her too. Love your enemies, remember?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ruby said. “We just need to pray for Allie not to have any more panic attacks.”

  Aunt Kassie raised her eyebrows. “Panic attacks? Allie, does your mom know about this?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not having panic attacks. Just a really bad asthma attack today at the end of school.”

  “And her inhaler didn’t help one bit.”

  Thanks a lot, Lola.

  “Huh.” Aunt Kassie gave me the once-over. Then she thought a minute, and grinned. “You know what I think we all need? We need a Carroway Comedy Night.”

  “Yeah!” Hunter pumped his fist and accidentally punched the ceiling of the car. “Ouch!” He grabbed his knuckles. “Long arms are gonna kill me.”

  “Can we do it tonight?” Ruby asked.

  Aunt Kassie checked the time on her phone. “Sure! We were gonna grill some burgers anyway, so we’ll just send out a text invite and see how many Carroways show up!”

  “Can we invite Uncle Saul?” Hunter’s eyes lit up. “He promised to do a karaoke duet with me on the next comedy night.”

  “Yes, we’ll invite Uncle Saul.” Aunt Kassie took a minute to compose a group text while we sat there in the car. I felt my breathing smooth out.

  Thank you, God, for my family, and for the joy they bring into my life.

  Seconds after she hit send, her phone began chiming. Aunt Kassie smiled big.

  “Looks like we got us a Comedy Night tonight!”

  Carroway Comedy Nights have been a tradition for our family since back when our dads were kids. Whenever someone was stressed—either from work, school, or for some medical reason, our family would gather together and sing, dance, tell jokes, and basically be silly so that everyone would have a chance to laugh till they cry, fall on the floor, or pee their pants.

  Mamaw Kat always quotes this Bible verse before the night begins:

  A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

  PROVERBS 17:22

  As we began our comedy night that evening, I wondered if that was what had happened to me out on that school field. Was my spirit broken—or starting to break—when I realized that Mrs. Mellon wouldn’t be able to help with the end-of-year project? I sure felt weak out there, lying in the rain. Was that why I couldn’t breathe? Was Lola right about me having a panic attack?

  “Thank y’all for coming on short notice,” Aunt Kassie addressed the crowd of Carroways, who were all standing around in the kitchen. “Before we start the evening, we must congratulate Allie for being voted Student Project Manager of the Ouachita Middle School’s year-end project today.”

  My family clapped, and some of the little kids—and my Papaw Ray—whooped and hollered.

  “Allie, would you like to say some words?”

  Oh, man. Usually words just pour out of me, but after the events of this day, I could only think of one.

  “Help.”

  Then I sat down on a barstool. The family stared in my direction, and it wasn’t until Kendall said the next thing that everyone understood.

  “Mrs. Mellon had her baby today, so Miss Lewis is takin’ over as faculty advisor.”

  My family knows the Lewis reputation, so there were gasps and head shakes galore.

  Mom came up and began to rub my shoulders. “Allie, you didn’t tell me about Miss Lewis. This is going to be a challenge, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “That’s why I said help.”

  Aunt Kassie waved a large mixing spoon in the air. “That’s why we called an emergency comedy night.”

  “A cheerful heart is good medicine,” Mamaw said. “And mac and cheese helps too.” She pulled aluminum foil off a casserole dish and uncovered my favorite food in the entire world.

  “We’ll help you cheer up,” my little cousin Chase said. “I can do a drum solo for you.”

  “And I invented a new game that we’re gonna play tonight!” My Great Uncle Saul is a genius at creating weird games. The way he does it is simple; he just turns anything into a competition—like flinging fish guts into a bucket, playing hide and seek in model homes, slurping out words in alphabet soup, and today’s game—spitting plastic Easter eggs into a kiddie basketball hoop.

  “It’s just like playing horse,” Uncle Saul said. “Only you have an Easter egg, see, and you put it in your mouth, and then you skip, jump, or whatever, and you spit the egg through the hoop. If you make it, the next person has to do exactly what you did, and if they fail, they get an h. First person to spell ‘horse’ loses.”

  Uncle Saul just stood there with this huge grin on his face, and everyone else looked horrified.

  “Sounds a little unsanitary,” Mom said.

  Uncle Saul brushed away her comment. “No way, Maggie Mae. We all got different egg colors, so we don’t share spit.”

  Still, it sounded gross to me. But Uncle Saul’s games never fail to make us laugh, so why not?

  “Okay, but how about we play ‘pig’ so it’s shorter?” Aunt Kassie grimaced.

  “And less spit,” Mom said.

  “Pig it is!” Uncle Saul said. “Who’s in?”

  It was mostly just the kids and the dads who played. We had to breathe deep and then blow out hard for the eggs to go anywhere. I got to P-I fast, and I wasn’t sure if I could finish because I was laughing so hard. Uncle Josiah (Lola and Ruby’s dad) leaped around the room like a frog, then turned a somersault before blowing his egg successfully through the hoop from five feet away. Hazel Mae, Ellie, and T-Rex added to the humor by barking and chasing the eggs after they left our mouths. T-Rex picked one up with his mouth and brought it over to Hunter.

  “Thanks, boy.” Hunter took the green egg out of T-Rex’s mouth and put it in his.

  “Hunter!” Aunt Kassie yelled. “That is gross!”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t brush my teet
h today.”

  And with that, Hunter leaped around, even managed to croak a couple of times, leaned back, and “poofed” his egg through the hoop!

  Everyone collapsed on the floor laughing—that kind of laugh that makes your stomach hurt.

  “Now, didn’t I tell ya that game was a winner?” Uncle Saul began to gather the spit eggs into a big trash bag.

  “I’ll save these at my house for the next time,” he said.

  “Give them to me.” Aunt Kassie rushed Uncle Saul and pulled the bag away from him. “I’ll be disinfecting these in the dishwasher first.”

  “And somebody needs to mop the spit marks off the floor,” Mom said.

  “Aww, they’ve practically evaporated,” said Uncle Saul as he wiped a couple of spots with an old handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

  “I don’t know if I can even eat now,” Hunter said. “My stomach’s like a brick.”

  “I can’t eat anything except mac and cheese,” I rubbed my jaw. “I think my cheeks hurt worse than my stomach.”

  “Okay, then, let’s say grace and get this dinner started.” My dad, who had opted out of the Easter egg spitting game so he could grill the burgers, took off his ball cap and bowed his head. We all bowed too.

  “Father, thank you for the gift of laughter, and for this crazy, but wonderful family. Thank you for the food and for all the blessings you provide, and we pray that you will help our Allie-girl as she takes on a big project for her school. We know you will be with her every step of the way, guiding, teaching, and encouraging her. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  I looked up at Dad and smiled. “Thanks, Dad. I need all the help I can get.”

  “Hey! I have an idea,” Uncle Saul said. “We can have an Easter Egg Spitting Basketball Booth at the carnival!”

  “NO!” we all yelled.

  “Just tryin’ to help,” Uncle Saul said, with a big grin.

  Our family is big, so a lot of the time when we aren’t in front of the cameras, we have our meals buffet style. And while I was lined up, waiting for my turn to fill my plate with food, I had lots of offers of help for the carnival.