“That yard bull, the cop in the pickup truck?” said Oscar. “He saw us, you know. If you hadn’t gotten on, he would have had you. Those guys don’t mess around. They carry guns and ain’t afraid to use ’em. If you didn’t stop, he would have shot you in the leg. Then, when you got out of the hospital, you’d have gotten a month in jail. Maybe more. Don’t know what they’d have done with your dog, never seen a dog ridin’ freight trains before. Probably put her in the dog pound and had her put to sleep if nobody came for her while you were in the clink. Yup, you sure were lucky. Both of you.”
“Do you think there will be any trouble when we get to New York?” asked Wobar. “I’ve never been there before.”
“Depends what time this train gets in. If we’re lucky, we’ll get in at night. During the daytime, the yards are full of people. Police too. It can be pretty tricky.”
Wobar was not at all pleased with the prospect of riding freight trains to New Orleans. If it was as dangerous as his first experience, he knew that he wanted to find a different way to get there.
“Oscar, you know I’m from California and don’t know this part of the country very well. I thought maybe you could give me a few tips about how to get a train to New Orleans.”
“A train? You can’t get there on just one train. You’ll need to catch at least six before you get to New Orleans,” said Oscar. “From New York, the cars go on a barge to Jersey City. Catch another to Philly, change trains, go to Cumberland, Maryland, probably have to wait all day. You gotta change there, and the yard bulls are tough customers. But if you’re lucky, you’ll get the overnight train all the way to East St. Louis, getting in the next afternoon. From there . . .”
But Wobar had stopped listening. He had heard enough. He was going to find another way to get to New Orleans. He wasn’t going to risk getting chased, shot at, arrested, or run over by a train to get there. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he’d find another way.
CHAPTER 17
Walking the Streets of New York
THE TRAIN ROLLED into the West Side freight terminal late the next afternoon. Trouble started as soon as they arrived. No sooner had they jumped down than they were being chased again. “Oh no,” thought Wobar. “It seems like I’ve been running or hiding ever since I left home!”
“Hey, you! Stop right where you are!” yelled the yard bull. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
Oscar was already running zigzag across the freight yard, and Roxie was following him. Wobar was afraid, but he didn’t have much choice, so he started running, too. He just hoped that the fellow wouldn’t really shoot.
Two bullets went whizzing by. Wobar ran as fast as he could and quickly caught up with Oscar and Roxie. They had just gotten around the corner of a building, and Oscar was gasping for breath.
“We’d better get out of here quick!” said Oscar. “Follow me!” Dashing and dodging, hiding behind train cars and buildings, they made their way across the freight yards. Once they had to jump into a dumpster to hide. it smelled awful.
“P.U.! This place stinks,” said Roxie. “If this is what cities are like, let’s get out of here fast”.
“We’ll be out of here soon. And don’t worry, I’ve got a plan,” said Wobar.
Oscar decided that he would try to get a train that very night going toward Florida. “You sure you don’t want to come along? It gets easier after this,” he said. “And Florida is a real nice place. There’s oranges just falling off the trees and great beaches, too, if you like to swim.”
But Wobar said no, he’d ridden enough freight trains. He’d find another way. So they said good-bye, and Oscar pointed the way out of the freight yard. A few minutes later, Wobar and Roxie were walking along the sidewalks of New York.
Wobar noticed that all the dogs in New York were on leashes, so he put Roxie’s on, even though she didn’t like it. He figured it was probably a law in New York, and he didn’t want any more trouble. He’d had enough already.
“Wow!” said Roxie as they ambled down Fifth Avenue. “I can’t believe these buildings! They’re so tall. They’re even taller than Grantham Mountain!”
Wobar tried not to stare too much. They looked funny enough, and he didn’t want to attract attention. But he couldn’t help but peek up from under the brim of his hat from time to time. There were people everywhere. Big people, little people. People of all colors. People wearing every kind of clothing. They even saw dogs wearing coats! This wasn’t at all like Woodstown. And Wobar didn’t have the faintest idea where to go or what to do.
It was nighttime and getting cold. They walked downtown, while Wobar tried to come up with a plan. Although he had assured Roxie he had a plan, he only knew they had to make some money to eat and get a ticket to New Orleans. He knew he didn’t want to spend the night on the street. They walked past restaurants, and the wonderful smells made them even hungrier. He looked at the long lines of people waiting to get in.
They had been walking a long time, and Wobar was tired. It’s almost impossible to sleep on a moving freight train. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since they had left the haunted house. And Wobar was hungry. Up ahead he saw a little park with some benches, so they decided to stop and rest. Wobar opened a can of cat food for Roxie and made himself another peanut butter sandwich with the last of his bread.
“This cat food is awful,” said Roxie. “Didn’t they have any flavored like rabbits? I sure would enjoy a nice fat rabbit tonight. You said this is supposed to taste like seafood? It doesn’t taste like any fish I’ve ever eaten.” Roxie wrinkled her nose and made a face.
“I have to admit that peanut butter sandwiches lose some of their appeal if that’s all you have to eat. But don’t worry. We’re going to earn some money tonight. Then we can buy anything we want to eat. You just wait and see. I’ve got a really great idea!”
Wobar really did have a plan, finally. He knew how they could make money. Enough money for food and maybe even a hotel room.
CHAPTER 18
Making Money
WOBAR’S PLAN WAS simple and seemed foolproof. He had figured out how they could make money, lots of money. Since he and Roxie could communicate silently, they would do magic tricks. It wouldn’t really be magic, of course, but it would seem like magic to the people who watched.
“First we need to find an audience,” said Wobar. “Then I’ll tell people that my dog can talk to me, and for one dollar, I’ll prove it. I’m sure somebody will want to test us. I’ll put on a blindfold and cover my ears. Then they whisper a secret into your ear—something that I couldn’t possibly know. You come over and pretend to whisper it in my ear, and then I tell everyone their secret. And we win the dollar!
“As soon as other people see it, they’ll think there’s a trick, so they’ll want to try to figure out how we did it. We can offer a double-your-money guarantee: ‘If Spot, the talking dog, can’t tell your secret, you get TWO dollars back.’ everybody will want to try!”
“But where do we get an audience?” asked Roxie. “I’ve seen people going into the movies and theaters and nightclubs. But we can’t go in there. For one thing, we’re dirty and smell like garbage.”
“You’ll see, follow me,” said Wobar. He got up and started walking. After a while they came to a part of town that had lots of restaurants. Outside one, there was a long line of people waiting to get inside.
“Here we are,” said Wobar. “An audience. They must be bored waiting to get inside. And if they’ve got money to spend on a fancy restaurant, they’ll probably have a dollar to prove that dogs can’t talk.”
Wobar and Roxie stood on the sidewalk next to the line of people. Wobar took a deep breath and shouted out, “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight you are in for a treat! For your entertainment while you wait for dinner, I would like to present Spot the talking dog!”
Most people kept on talking and didn’t pay attention. Roxie was getting nervous. Wobar twirled one side of his mustache, trying to make it curl up.
“Now many of you may think you’ve known a smart dog or two in your day. Well, Spot is the smartest dog in the world! Not only can she understand everything you say, she can talk to me.”
Roxie liked Wobar’s speech. It was much better than what Wobar told the store man when she knocked over the fruit. She liked Wobar’s plan.
“I realize that many of you might not think Spot can really talk. You might think this is a trick. Well, for one dollar I will prove it! That’s right, folks. For one dollar I will prove it! And should Spot fail to perform, not only will I refund your dollar, I’ll pay you a dollar!”
Roxie was a little nervous now. Wobar didn’t have two dollars. Wobar had taught her to understand English, but she still missed some words. What if she got stage fright and couldn’t tell him the secret? Then they’d be in trouble.
“Who will be the first to test Spot the talking dog? Just one dollar!”
Oh, Harold,” said a woman to her husband, “This will be fun. Give the man a dollar.”
“But this has got to be a trick. The guy can probably read lips or something. This is silly,” the man said.
Wobar was anticipating this. “To prove that there are no tricks involved I will cover my eyes and ears.” He pulled out his handkerchief and tied it over his eyes. “Now, tell Spot a secret that no one else could possibly know. I’ll cover my ears.”
The man gave Wobar a dollar. His wife bent down and whispered in Roxie’s ear. Roxie came over and nudged Wobar, who bent down and pretended to listen while Roxie sent him a mental message.
“Her husband snores,” said Roxie.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Spot has told me this lady’s secret.” He turned to the lady. “Is it all right if I tell your secret to everybody here?”
The lady giggled. “Well, since dogs can’t talk, give it a try,” she said.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this lady’s secret is that her husband snores!”
people in line howled. They laughed and giggled and guffawed. But many still didn’t think it was real.
“It was probably a setup,” said one.
“It must be a trick,” said another.
“Since some of you don’t believe that Spot can really talk,” said Wobar, “I will now convince you! I will blindfold myself and face away. Take out a dollar bill for Spot to see. She’ll come get it. Then whisper your middle name in her ear, and she’ll tell me. If anybody doubts that Spot can talk to me, show them your driver’s license.”
Wobar turned away and waited. A young man with long hair held out a bill. Roxie trotted over and got it.
“Melvin,” she told Wobar.
“The man’s middle name is Melvin!” shouted Wobar. “Am I right?”
The man scratched his head and looked surprised, but nodded. Yes, his middle name was Melvin. Still, nobody wanted to believe that Spot the talking dog was for real. All up and down the line, people kept pulling out dollar bills to test her. And every time Roxie was right. She had a hard time with the name Sebastian, but Wobar still got it. Roxie and Wobar had discovered a gold mine!
CHAPTER 19
Almost Getting a Hotel Room
WOBAR AND ROXIE had, indeed, struck it rich. By midnight, they had performed in front of six restaurants and a theater. They had collected, in total, 134 one-dollar bills. They were tired and hungry, but no longer worried.
“Wow,” said Wobar as they headed down the street. “A few weeks doing this, and we can buy the silver pipe! I’ve never had so much money in my whole life! Let’s go get something good to eat. I’m tired of peanut butter!”
So Wobar and Roxie found an all-night deli and ordered up more food than they could eat. Three pounds of fresh raw chicken liver for Roxie. A roast beef sandwich with potato salad and coleslaw and a quart of grape soda for Wobar. And a quart of vanilla ice cream to share between them. Roxie was ready to start on her dinner right there on the sidewalk in front of the deli.
“Not yet, Roxie,” said Wobar. “Let’s find ourselves a cheap hotel room. Then we can relax and eat our food without worrying about getting in trouble. For all we know, there might be a law against feeding dogs on the sidewalks of New York City. Come on, let’s go before the ice cream melts!”
Wobar and Roxie were in the right part of town to find a cheap hotel. Although the first two had “No Vacancy” signs lit up, the third one flashed its neon sign: ROOMS—ROOMS—ROOMS. Wobar and Roxie walked up to the front desk. Wobar could barely see over the front counter.
“Hello!” he called. “Anybody here?”
A sleepy looking man looked out of a small office behind the counter. “Yeah? Waddya want?” he said gruffly. The man didn’t seem like he was very interested in customers.
“I’d like a room for the night, please. “
“Thirty-five dollars. Cash. See the sign? No checks, no credit cards. With state and local tax that comes to thirty-eight dollars and forty-four cents. Gotta be out of the room by noon.” He peered at Wobar. “How old are you, anyhow? Is that mustache real?”
Wobar ignored the question. He counted out thirty-nine one-dollar bills and paid the man, who tossed him a key.
“Up two flights of stairs, turn left. Number 206. if you need anything, It can wait till morning.”
Wobar didn’t like the man and didn’t understand why he was so rude, but wasn’t in a mood to argue. They headed across the lobby and were almost to the stairs when he heard the man hollering.
“All right, wise guy, where do you think you’re goin’?”
Wobar stopped. What could he have done wrong?
“Come on, joker, you know that you can’t bring a dog into a hotel in New York City! You want I should lose my license? Get that animal, whatever it is, outta here right now before I call the cops!”
“But sir, I didn’t know that, “said Wobar. “Spot is a very well mannered dog and won’t cause any trouble. Just let us stay tonight, please? We’ve come a long way, and we’re very tired.”
“Out! You heard me! If that thing ain’t outta here by the time I count ten, you’re gonna be in big trouble.”
“But what about the money I paid?”
“One, two, three . . .”
Roxie gave a growl.
“Six, seven, eight . . .”
Wobar tugged on the leash, and they ran for the front door and down the steps. Their bag of groceries split open and everything fell on the sidewalk. The quart of grape soda smashed. Wobar felt like crying. Roxie was mad. She wanted to go back and scare some manners into the man. But they didn’t. They picked up their things, put everything into the suitcase, and started down the street, tired and discouraged.
CHAPTER 20
The Fire Escape
WOBAR AND ROXIE couldn’t find a nice place to eat their dinner, so they just sat on the front steps of an apartment building. Wobar got out the food, and they ate until they were stuffed. The ice cream was soupy, but Roxie didn’t care. Cats, even big ones like Roxie, love cream, even if it’s really melted ice cream.
Roxie turned to Wobar after she finished eating. “Vanilla is great, Wobar,” she said. “Does ice cream come in all flavors?”
“Well, practically all flavors. Some places even have bubble gum ice cream, and once I had peanut butter and jelly ice cream,” said Wobar.
“Great! “she said. “Next time it’s my turn to pick. I’m going to get rabbit ice cream!” Wobar wanted to laugh, but he was just too tired.
They had been in predicaments before, and every time they’d found a way to solve their problem. But this time they were at a loss. They didn’t know anything about cities, and they didn’t know what to do next. So they just got up and started walking.
After a while, Wobar stopped. “We’ve got to find a place to sleep, Roxie,” he said. “I don’t think I can walk any farther.” He put down his suitcase and sat on it.
“You get a room for the night, Wobar,” said Roxie. “I’ll take care of myself. Then tomorrow we’ll figure something out, oka
y?”
“No. We’re in this together. We’re a team. Besides, every dog I’ve seen here is on a leash. It must be the law. On your own, you’d be caught and sent to the dog pound. “
“Are you kidding?” said Roxie “I’m a cougar, not a dog. I can run thirty miles an hour and jump over an eight-foot fence, even with a suitcase in my mouth, remember? Nobody can catch me.” Roxie stopped talking and stared at a hotel across the street. “Do you see what I see?”
“Yes. It’s a hotel, but . . .”
“No, Wobar. That ladder. There are ladders coming down the side of the hotel.”
Wobar looked. Sure enough, there were metal platforms outside each window and ladders going from floor to floor. “That must be the fire escape, Roxie,” said Wobar. “I’ve read about them. That way people can get out of the hotel in case of fire.”
“Great. I’ll wait outside while you go get a room. Then when you get to the room, open the window and signal me. I’ll have to jump up to the first platform, but after that I can climb up the ladders, and you can let me in the window!”
Wobar went in, asked for a room, and paid for it. Once he was in the room, he opened the window and waved to Roxie. Even though she was tired, Roxie managed to leap to the first platform, and then climbed up the ladders to the fifth floor. She wasn’t afraid of heights and was a good tree climber, but she avoided looking down. It was a long way to the sidewalk.
“This isn’t the cleanest room I’ve ever seen,” said Wobar, “but it will do. I’m so tired I could sleep for a week.”
Wobar took a shower and scrubbed off all the dirt and grime from riding in a boxcar and hiding in a dumpster.
“Roxie,” he said, “you don’t smell very good. Why don’t I give you a bath? I’ll put on a fresh coat of paint in the morning?” Roxie didn’t like the idea of a bath. Cats never do. But she didn’t like smelling like garbage either. And the paint was itchy and some of it had rubbed off and her disguise wasn’t looking very good.
Wobar and the Quest for the Magic Calumet Page 5
