All wrong
“How did she let that happen?” Maggie asks.
I don’t want Maggie to get all riled up again, so I say, “I think she was just trying to be nice. Mrs. Van Hoven took the lamb without thinking about what she should really do with him.”
“All alone in the last stall,” Maggie says to Brenna.
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound smart,” Brenna replies.
“But what about the rider? I think this is more the rider’s fault than it is Mrs. Van Hoven’s,” I suggest.
“That doesn’t excuse her!” Maggie says. So much for not letting her get riled up. Now she seems mad at me, too. I can feel my face getting red. I’m also getting a bit angry. But not at Mrs. Van Hoven. I’m ticked off at Maggie. This was supposed to be a fun night. A night spent watching the documentary. A night spent talking about the new kitten I’m going to get and making a list of perfect kitten names. Now it just feels ruined.
Collect All the Vet Volunteers Books
Fight for Life
Homeless
Trickster
Manatee Blues
Say Good-bye
Storm Rescue
Teacher’s Pet
Trapped
Fear of Falling
Time to Fly
Masks
End of the Race
New Beginnings
Acting Out
Helping Hands
Treading Water
Left Behind
PUFFIN BOOKS
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street
New York, New York 10014
First published in the United States of America by Puffin Books,
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2016
Copyright © 2016 by Laurie Halse Anderson
Title page photo copyright © 2011 by Bob Krasner
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Contents
All wrong
More Vet Volunteers Books
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter One
It took some convincing, but I finally got my parents to allow me to stay with Maggie and Dr. Mac for the long holiday weekend. It’s not like we were doing anything as a family anyway. My parents both have to work at the hospital all weekend, and my little sister and brother are spending time with our cousins in New Jersey. That’s where I was supposed to go, too. But it’s Dr. Mac’s turn on the weekend emergency rotation, and we are short-staffed at Dr. Mac’s Place. My parents really understand what that means for a hospital—even one where most of the patients have four legs!
My parents work with humans. I work with animals. We all do at Dr. Mac’s Place. Dr. Mac is Dr. J. J. MacKenzie, the veterinarian owner of the animal clinic. Dr. Gabe is our other vet. Then there is a whole gang of us, the Vet Volunteers, who help in every way we can. There’s Maggie MacKenzie and Zoe Hopkins—Dr. Mac’s granddaughters who also happen to live with her. And there’s David Hutchinson and Brenna Lake, the twins Josh and Jules Darrow, and me, Sunita Patel.
Unfortunately, not many of us are available this weekend. Jules and Josh went back to Pittsburgh, where they used to live, to visit friends, and David is on his annual camping trip in the Adirondacks. And at the last minute, Zoe decided to fly out to see her mother on the West Coast. So Maggie and I—and maybe Brenna—will hold down the fort with Dr. Mac and Dr. Gabe this Fourth of July weekend.
I lean across the front seat and give my mother a hug when she drops me off in front of the clinic.
“Text me before you go to bed, Sunita,” my mother says, squeezing my arm gently. “And your father and I will do the same. Let’s all check in both nights.”
“I will,” I say. “And tell Jasmine and Harshil I said hi,” I add quickly. I will miss my brother and sister, but mostly I’m just excited about my weekend with Maggie. I know we’re going to have a great time—plus, I have some good news to share with her.
I scoot across the seat and pull my sleeping bag and backpack with me. Maggie is at the car door as I open it.
“Hi, Dr. Patel! Thanks for loaning us Sunita,” she says, grabbing my sleeping bag from me.
“You girls have fun. I hope the clinic is fairly calm this weekend.” My mother smiles at Maggie.
“We don’t have well-patient appointments, but you never know what might happen when you’re on call. Gran is already preparing for the fireworks freak-outs,” Maggie says, trying to balance the rolled sleeping bag on her head.
“Fireworks freak-outs?” my mother asks.
“Lots of dogs and some cats get scared when they hear fireworks,” Maggie explains. “Just like they do in a thunderstorm. Sometimes we have extra cases come in. The animals try to hide from the noise. Sometimes they fall or get stuck and injured. Since we have two nights of fireworks this year, there’s double the potential for trouble.”
“I never thought about that. Poor things.” My mother looks at me. She doesn’t think I’m still scared of thunderstorms and fireworks, does she? Because I am not!
Maggie takes the sleeping bag off her head and motions to the couple of cars in the parking lot. “We have two dogs and a cat in there right now that have a history of fireworks trauma. Gran is getting them set up with sedatives so they’re dozy and won’t freak out.”
“Prevention of injury is always a smart plan,” Mother says.
We wave as she drives off. I’m practically skipping as we head inside to stow my stuff in Maggie’s bedroom.
“Whoa, Sunita! You’re acting like one of those puppies that we had in the clinic a few weeks ago!” Maggie comments.
I laugh. No one has ever compared me to a puppy before. But I can’t help myself. This is going to be so much fun. I’m really looking forward to staying up late, chatting, and being with just Maggie. Maggie’s cousin, Zoe, is fun, and I really do like her—and all the Vet Volunteers—a lot. I consider them my closest friends. But when we’re in a group, it can be hard to do anything but just go along with everyone. That’s why tonight is a special treat—I have Maggie all to myself. I’ve packed a new notepad and pen so we can make a very special list. I’ve also brought a wildcat documentary DVD to watch. Maggie and I both love animal shows on TV, and we often exchange animal documentaries. If Zoe is around, she rolls her eyes at us and flips through her celebrity magazines when we start talking about documentaries we’ve seen. But tonight, since it’s just Maggie and me, we won’t have to worry about her. We’ll probably eat popcorn, watch the DVD, and tell each other secrets, just like they do in my favorite books. At least, that’s what I think we’ll do. I don’t exactly have a secret, but I do have
great news—and we will need the special notepad and pen for it.
Zoe took her dog, Sneakers, with her on this trip, so their house seems quieter. I pet their cat, Socrates, as I walk by. He rubs his head against my wrist and then lies down so I’ll scratch his belly. His big orange belly is fluffy-soft and jiggly. Socrates sighs, and I know he’d prefer me to stay right here and pet him all evening. But Maggie and I have other things to do. “Later, baby,” I tell him. Sherlock, their basset hound, is snoring beneath the kitchen table, so I resist giving him a pat. Instead, we grab apples from the kitchen and walk back through the house into the connected clinic. Dr. Gabe is talking with Dr. Mac outside the exam room.
“We’re done here for the day, girls,” Dr. Mac says.
Maggie’s grandmother is brisk, in a friendly way. She walks fast and talks fast and seems a lot younger than she is, with her athletic build and short-cropped hair. She is probably the peppiest grandmother I have ever known. She always makes the Vet Volunteers feel important. Though I guess we are pretty important. We’re an extra hand calming a sick or hurt animal, getting Dr. Mac and Dr. Gabe the supplies they need when they’re working on a patient, and keeping the clinic clean. Most of us want to work with animals in some way when we’re adults. At Dr. Mac’s Place we get a lot of training and a lot of encouragement.
Like now, for example, Dr. Mac is helping me learn to handle larger animals. I love cats and small dogs. I enjoy working with the rabbits, gerbils, guinea pigs, and birds that we see at the clinic. But I’ve always been a little nervous around the large dogs and bigger animals, like horses. They are just so big, and it seems like a million things could go wrong. It’s not like working with cats. Though if I really think about it, I know cats are complex and can be dangerous, too. It’s just that I’m much more comfortable with them. I almost never go with Dr. Gabe on his stable calls. Stable calls are visits to farms. That’s what we call them, even if the farm doesn’t have any stables. But I’m trying to “move out of my comfort zone.” That’s what my father keeps telling me I need to do. I know he’s right, and I am trying. I have to if I am going to become a veterinarian someday.
“I have one last stable call to go on,” Dr. Gabe says. Maggie is automatically alert and bouncing a little on her toes. “Horse farm, Maggie. Do you want to come?” he asks.
“Of course!” she says. Then she turns to me and asks, “Unless you want to start hanging out now?”
“I have room for two in my truck,” Dr. Gabe suggests. He lifts his eyebrow and smiles at me. He and Dr. Mac both know I usually choose organizing the ever-present mound of clinic paperwork and leave the big-animal assisting to another Vet Volunteer. But I’ll never get over my fears if I keep avoiding them.
“I’ll come, too,” I say. Maggie and I toss our apple cores into the compost pail.
Dr. Mac pats me on the back a couple of times as we follow Dr. Gabe toward the front door. But before we get to the door, a young woman with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail comes through it. She doesn’t have an animal with her—no carrier in her arms and no dog on a leash. But sometimes people leave their seriously ill or hurt animals in the car until they have checked in and made sure that they can bring the animal directly into an exam room. Maybe Dr. Mac will need me here instead? But before I can ask Dr. Mac if she wants me to stay, she says, “You must be Melissa. I’m Dr. Mac.”
“It’s very nice to finally meet you in person, Dr. Mac,” the woman says, extending her hand to shake Dr. Mac’s.
“This is my colleague, Dr. Gabe,” Dr. Mac says. Melissa turns and shakes his hand, too. “And this is my granddaughter Maggie and one of the Vet Volunteers I told you about, Sunita.”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Melissa says.
I’m about to ask if I should stay when Dr. Gabe claps his hands and says, “All righty, then, I’ll leave you two to talk, and the three of us will get over to the Van Hoven place.”
I guess Dr. Mac already knows she doesn’t need our help. Dr. Gabe must have known, too, because he didn’t offer to have one of us assist her. There is only one car left in the parking lot. I sneak a peek as we walk past it to Dr. Gabe’s truck. Is this Melissa’s car? Whoever it belongs to, there isn’t any animal in it.
Chapter Two
The Van Hoven horse farm is a pretty place. It sits at the end of a very long driveway with flower beds tucked here and there along the way. The farmhouse looks like something from a magazine, freshly painted and stately. There’s a big outdoor riding ring, a smaller indoor ring, and lots of pastures and expensive-looking stables. Dr. Gabe tells us they board forty horses and often host riding competitions, and that we’re there today to check up on a horse who’s recovering from a cut on her leg that had gotten infected.
“I was expecting to see David with you, Dr. Gabe. Hello, Maggie,” Mrs. Van Hoven says, meeting us outside of the stables. Mrs. Van Hoven reminds me a little of Dr. Mac. She’s bustling and busy. She’s a lot shorter than Dr. Mac, but she looks just as strong. She also looks friendly and seems kind. She seems just the sort of person who can be counted on to do the important work of caring for animals.
“Hello, Connie,” Dr. Gabe says, grabbing his vet kit and a big canvas bag from the back of the truck—his vet clinic on wheels. “David is in the Adirondacks with his family. This is Sunita, another of our amazing volunteers.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sunita,” Mrs. Van Hoven says. “Do you love horses as much as David does?”
“Nobody loves horses as much as David does,” I say. “I think he’s the definition of horse-crazy.”
Mrs. Van Hoven and Dr. Gabe laugh. Maggie looks at me funny. She knows that not only do I not love horses the way David does, I’m afraid of them. But I don’t need to advertise that.
Mrs. Van Hoven leads us to one of the stalls, where a chestnut-brown mare stands nibbling at some hay. The mare seems calm, but I can feel my heart start to beat a little faster as I take in just how huge she is. I can’t help imagining how terrifying it would be if she tried to bite me with those enormous teeth. I take a deep breath and try to focus on the people with me instead.
“Doesn’t Tinker look better?” Dr. Gabe exclaims. “What a difference a week makes. She’s putting a little weight on that hoof, too.”
Tinker leans forward and nuzzles Mrs. Van Hoven; she sneezes twice and then nuzzles Dr. Gabe. “Looks like no hard feelings,” Dr. Gabe says, and he strokes Tinker’s muzzle. “Okay, let’s take a look at the hoof and get a clean bandage on it.” Dr. Gabe steps closer to Tinker. Tinker takes a couple steps backward. I can tell she’s still babying her left front hoof from the way she hobbles slightly. She looks from Dr. Gabe to Mrs. Van Hoven. Her eyes widen slightly, and I think she looks a little frightened. I guess I’m not the only one. But I am going to do this. I take a few more deep breaths as Tinker starts snorting and her eyes open even wider.
“All right,” says Dr. Gabe. “She’s becoming distressed. Connie, is she likely to be calmer in the work alley or here in her stall?”
Mrs. Van Hoven quickly nods her head a few times. “Right here is best. She’s a funny one. More room means more worries for her.”
“Fine,” says Dr. Gabe. “Let’s put on our helmets, and we’ll all speak slowly and quietly.” He demonstrates by saying all of this slowly, in just above a whisper.
“There’s not enough room in her stall, and we really don’t need all of us for this, so let’s have you, Connie, at her head—holding her bridle—and which of you girls will assist?” Dr. Gabe looks from me to Maggie and back again. My face feels red and it seems like my heart is beating in my neck, but I take a deep breath and—
“I’ll do it,” Maggie says before I can speak. She looks at me and smiles. Before I can get even a word out, Dr. Gabe says, “Okay, let’s do this. Helmets. Safety first.”
I stand outside the open stall door and watch as Dr. Gabe and Maggie pull he
lmets out of the canvas bag. Mrs. Van Hoven is stroking Tinker’s muzzle and making low clicking sounds that seem to calm her. I can’t see the whites of Tinker’s eyes anymore, and her ears look less tense, too. I also feel less tense. But I’m disappointed. I really felt ready to help this time. Well, almost ready. Being both disappointed and relieved makes my stomach hurt a little. Why can’t I be more sure of myself, like Maggie and Brenna?
I watch from outside the stall as Dr. Gabe crouches beside Tinker’s hoof. Maggie stands back beside Dr. Gabe’s kit, ready to hand him things. First, he unwinds the long, thin bandage from Tinker’s foreleg. It takes a while. When the wound is finally uncovered I can’t even see it because I’m standing on the wrong side. Maggie has a good view from where she is, and she studies Tinker’s hoof. Wounds don’t usually bother me. I’ve helped clean a lot of them over the years. But being that close to a horse’s hoof? That’s another story.
Dr. Gabe cleans the wound, Mrs. Van Hoven whispers baby talk to Tinker, and Maggie is quiet and careful as she hands Dr. Gabe everything he needs. Tinker’s ears look alert, and her eyes are just a little widened. I think Mrs. Van Hoven’s soft, familiar voice is helping. After Dr. Gabe spreads ointment on her hoof and rebandages her leg, he does a quick examination of Tinker’s other legs and then checks her eyes, ears, and mouth. When Tinker’s exam is over, Dr. Gabe, Mrs. Van Hoven, and Maggie step out of the stall, leaving Tinker to herself. Then Dr. Gabe and Mrs. Van Hoven talk while Maggie carefully disposes of all the waste and repacks both bags.
I wonder how I would have done if I’d been the one to assist. I think I would have been fine. After all, Dr. Gabe could have helped to block if Tinker had tried to bite me. And Mrs. Van Hoven did have a tight hold on her bridle. This probably would have been a perfect way for me to get more comfortable with horses. Even though she was probably trying to help me out, I wish Maggie hadn’t spoken so quickly.
Left Behind Page 1
