Walking the Dog

by Linda Benson

  “Jared, I think I should meet Mr. Griswold.”

  Sophie stays right by my side as we wander down the hallway. My mom comes into the room with Pete, and the four of us almost completely fill the small space.

  Frank looks kind of pale. I think he’s tired from all this commotion. He probably usually naps right after lunch with everybody else. He nods at my mom though. “Pleased to meet you,” he says. “Your son has given me a lot of pleasure reading some of these old stories of mine.”

  “I’m so glad.” Mom smiles at me, but it’s a worried smile.

  “And who is this?” asks Frank, pointing.

  “I’m Petey,” says my brother. “Guess what? My tooth just fell out.” Petey scrunches up his face, tasting the new space with his tongue.

  “Well, imagine that,” says Frank.

  I roll my eyes.

  “So.” Frank turns to my mother. “You’re going to take these young people home with you, is that correct?”

  Mom nods. “Yes, and I’ve called my husband at work. He’s on his way home.”

  “And you’ll keep everyone safe until you get this figured out?” Frank tilts his head in Sophie’s direction.

  My mom nods again, reaching inside her purse for a tissue.

  “I’m not going to sleep well until I know the right thing has been done here,” says Frank.

  My mom dabs at her eyes and then blows her nose. “I understand.” She clears her throat and looks my way. “Jared, would you introduce me properly to Sophie?”

  I glance at Sophie. She’s got her hands in her pockets. This feels totally weird. But good at the same time. “Mom, this is Sophie.” Then it all comes out in a rush. “Sophie Best. She’s the one that’s really good with animals. And math. And also with getting kids down from trees.”

  “I’m Julie Westin, Sophie. I know you were there when Pete was stuck up in that tree. I was just out of my mind with worry that day and probably not thinking too clearly. But I do thank you for helping find him and then getting him down safely.”

  I can’t believe my mom is actually saying this. Not exactly apologizing, but she’s being nice to Sophie anyway.

  “Sophie knows some good jokes too,” says Pete. He turns toward Frank with a scrunched-up, serious face. “Hey, I can make you say ‘No, I haven’t.’ Which do you like better—vanilla, chocolate, or orange sherbet?”

  I crack up. I can’t help it. My mother stands there looking confused like she can’t imagine what Petey is talking about. But Sophie and I just grin.

  Chapter 27—Mr. Gannon

  IT FEELS STRANGE loading my bike and Sophie’s red bike into the van. Just a couple of weeks ago I wasn’t supposed to hang out with her, and now we’re riding home together. Pete climbs into the front seat, and me and Sophie sit in the back, almost like regular friends. I expect us to drive right by the Brewster Street apartments where Sophie lives, but my mom takes a different route home. A police siren screams in the distance, and Sophie slumps down in the seat below the window.

  It actually takes only a few minutes to get home, but it feels like a lot has changed in that short time. We leave the bikes in the van and hustle into the house. Mom pulls out a DVD—Walt Disney’s Bambi—and all three of us kids pile up on the couch in the family room to watch it.

  “I love this one,” says Sophie. Then she tucks her feet underneath her and doesn’t say much more, but I can imagine what must be going through her head.

  I hear my dad’s car pull into the driveway. Will Dad be mad? I halfway expect him to come in and start lecturing me. But he doesn’t. Instead, I hear him and Mom in the kitchen, talking in low voices. I know I’m not supposed to be listening, but I hear Sophie’s name a few times. Then I hear another car pull up. I pull the curtains aside and peek through.

  Sophie sticks her face against the window right in next to mine. “Is that Mr. Gannon? What’s he doing here?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go find out. I wonder how that pup Lester is doing. Do you think he’s calmed down any over the summer? I wonder if old Fuzzy is enjoying his long vacation.”

  “Hey! I’m watching this,” says Petey, giving us a glare.

  We slink toward the kitchen where Mr. Gannon shakes hands with my parents. “Hi, Jared. Hi, Sophie.” He waves. “Would you give us just a few more minutes?” The kitchen door shuts behind him.

  We head back to the couch in the family room. I like the movie Bambi, but it’s hard to stay interested when my curiosity is all fired up. Mr. Gannon has never been to our house before. I didn’t even know my parents knew who he was. He must have come here because of Sophie. He knows what happened to Sophie down in Sacramento—knows about Jack. Maybe Mom and Dad called Mr. Gannon to come over and help figure out what to do about Sophie. How to keep her safe.

  Sophie keeps changing position on the couch. She watches the movie and the kitchen door, back and forth. I wonder if her mom is looking for her. It’s the middle of the afternoon, going on toward dinner, and even if Sophie was supposed to be up at the animal shelter all morning, surely her mom would miss her by now. But then not everybody’s parents are like mine—totally concerned where their kids are.

  Petey scoots over next to Sophie on the couch. “Are you going to come to my birthday party?” he whispers.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “When is it?”

  “Your birthday’s not until October, Pete,” I say. Why is he thinking so far in advance? It’s not even September yet.

  “I’m going to ask for a cat for my birthday. I hope we can get Torpedo.”

  Fat chance, I think.

  I catch Sophie’s eye over the top of my little brother’s head. She looks at me with big question marks in her eyes, like Who is Torpedo?

  “The orange cat,” I mouth. I should ask her if she’s seen the orange cat at the animal shelter. If he’s still in his cage or if someone adopted him yet. Or if his time ran out. October is still a long ways off.

  The kitchen door opens, and my mom appears. “Sophie, would you mind coming in for a moment?”

  “Can I come?” I ask.

  “No, actually I’d like you to keep Pete company out here for a little while, Jared.”

  Sophie ducks under my mom’s arm and into the kitchen with the grown-ups.

  Now I really want to know what’s going on in there. I turn the volume down on the movie.

  “Hey, I can’t hear it,” whines Petey.

  “Sit right in front of it. Right here.” I move him closer, about two feet in front of the television where we’re not supposed to sit. “Now you can hear.”

  I watch until he gets into a good part of the movie, then I creep closer to the kitchen door, and I put my own ears on high alert.

  I can’t make out what they’re saying so I shove my head up tight. Now I can hear Mr. Gannon. He’s explaining that Sophie needs to call her mother and tell her where she is and that she’s safe.

  “I don’t want to,” she says. Sophie sounds scared, and I think I hear her choke down a sob. I know she’s worried about that Jack guy. I really want to go in there and help her, but then Petey would come in, and he’s too young to know about all of this. So I peek through the crack in the door, and I can see my mother sitting next to her at the kitchen table. She has her arm around Sophie, comforting her.

  I can’t believe how things have changed. Only this morning, I wasn’t supposed to see Sophie at all. Now she’s right here, in my very own house, and my parents are helping her. It’s hard to not be in the kitchen—in the middle of things. But I know I did the right thing by getting my parents involved.

  Through the space in the door I see Mr. Gannon pick up the telephone. Who’s he calling? The cops? Sophie’s mother? What if Jack is still there? I can’t hear much. Just some scrambled bits of conversation.

  Then I hear my mother say, “I’ll make another pot of coffee.”

  What’s happening? I’m missing everything! I press my ear harder against the kitchen door, but suddenly the
latch gives way, and I stumble into the middle of the kitchen.

  “Jared,” says my mom. “What are you doing?”

  “I was…was…checking on things.” I hope I’m not in trouble again.

  “My mother’s coming over,” Sophie blurts out.

  “She is?” I say. “Coming over here?”

  Sophie’s face is red like she’s been crying, and her mouth is scrunched together.

  “Jared,” my father says. “I didn’t mean to have you involved in any of this.”

  “What do you mean? I am involved. Sophie’s my friend. And she was really scared today—that’s why I called Mom. I thought it was the best thing to do.”

  “I-I know. I just—”

  Mr. Gannon, the smooth-it-over kind of guy, jumps in. “What your father means to say, Jared, is that once he realized the seriousness of the situation, he was glad to do what he could to help a child in possible trouble.”

  “Y-yes,” my dad stutters. “We’re just happy we could help.”

  Petey bursts into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s going on? Hi, Mr. Gannon,” he says. “Do you know what I want for my birthday?”

  “Your birthday’s not for more than a month,” I say.

  “I know. But I want Torpedo.”

  “Torpedo? What’s that? A game or something?”

  Sophie and I look at each other and smirk. “His cat,” we say together.

  Suddenly we hear a sharp bark from the direction of the driveway. I run to the window, and see a black, furry head wiggling out of Mr. Gannon’s car. Lester!

  Chapter 28—Lester Again

  “I ALMOST FORGOT Lester was out there,” says Mr. Gannon. “He must be getting impatient.” He looks at my mother and father. “I left him in the car because I wasn’t sure you’d allow him in the house.”

  “Is that the dog you take with you to school?” asks my father.

  This question surprises me. My dad usually acts like he doesn’t even like animals.

  “This one is the young black Lab,” explains Mr. Gannon. “He’s the one that I got as a possible replacement for my old therapy dog, Fuzzy. Fuzzy is a golden retriever, and he’s been coming to school with me for many years. I’d better go get Lester though. He’s getting rambunctious out there. He’s got way too much energy. The kids here were helping me take him for walks last year when I first started bringing him to school.”

  I look up at my father, and we lock eyes.

  “Yes, we know,” says my father slowly, but there’s no anger in his voice. “You can bring the dog in if you want.”

  “I’ll go get him,” I say.

  I dash outside, open Mr. Gannon’s car door, and grab the leash. Lester is excited to see me, but he’s really happy to be out of the car. Squirming and smelling everywhere, he seems more wound-up than ever. I run him around on the front lawn a little bit and then head for the house.

  Sophie meets us by the front door. “Lester,” she says, “you’ve grown.” Hugging him close, her blue eyes fill with tears. Lester licks her face, and she laughs.

  We both startle as a beat-up Oldsmobile sputters to the curb and stops. Sophie doesn’t move. She sits right down on the porch with her arms wrapped tight around Lester.

  The driver, Sophie’s mother, is alone. She stubs her cigarette out in the ashtray and creaks the car door open. Her red hair is a frizzy mess and a line of black mascara creeps down her cheek. She wipes the back of her hands against her eyes as she comes up the driveway.

  “Sophie? Honey?” She walks right past me and stands on the steps, facing her daughter. “I’ve been driving all over the neighborhood looking for you.”

  “W-where’s Jack?” says Sophie, her voice trembling. She’s clutching Lester so tight he’s starting to squirm.

  “I called the police on that son-of-a-bitch right after you took off this morning.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, I did. I invited in him for coffee and then took my cell phone into the bedroom to call. Jack forgot that I knew about those outstanding warrants against him down in Sacramento. The police were plenty interested though.”

  “So where is he now?”

  “The last I saw of him they had his sorry butt in the back of a squad car. They impounded his truck, and they’re going to send him back to California to stand charges. I went downtown to the police station and filed a restraining order. Gave them a statement about things he’s done to us. I’ve had enough, Sophie. I’m not gonna have that stinking son-of-a-gun ruin our lives any more. I promise you that.”

  Sophie answers in a tiny voice. “For sure?”

  Sophie’s mother sits down on the step next to her. “For certain sure.”

  The front door flies open, and my dad and Mr. Gannon hustle outside.

  “Everything all right out here?” asks Mr. Gannon, his eyes darting back and forth between Sophie and her mother.

  I watch Sophie. She nods her head and strokes Lester’s ear.

  My mother appears in the doorway, extending her hand toward Sophie’s mom. “I’m Julie,” she says. “I just made fresh coffee. Would you like to come in?”

  With a mighty wiggle, Lester breaks out of Sophie’s arms, pushes my mother aside, and lunges into the kitchen as if she had invited him.

  “Sorry, sorry,” says Mr. Gannon as he darts inside to grab the dog.

  Pete stands in the doorway, grinning. “Lester’s in the house! Lester’s in the house!” he shouts.

  Great. My mother’s going to have a cow. But she doesn’t.

  “Well, would everyone like to come inside then?” she says.

  All right by me. Finally.

  Chapter 29—Time is Up

  NOW THAT SCHOOL HAS STARTED again, I’m almost glad. It’s hard waking up in the mornings, but I’m kind of used to it after doing volunteer work all summer. Well, most of the summer.

  School is actually pretty cool this year. Sophie’s in my class again, and we have Mr. Miyori for sixth grade. He used to be a gymnast, so he walked on his hands for us the first day. Seriously.

  When he passes out our reading list, I’m totally surprised when one of the books is The Call of the Wild. Should be pretty easy for me since I’ve almost finished it with Frank.

  Mr. Miyori seats Sophie in the front row, and I’m in the second row to her right. She can still turn around and smile at me, and she does. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I don’t mind coming to school.

  And she’s almost always on time this year. I think Sophie’s mom got a job where she has to get up early, so she drops Sophie at school on her way to work.

  First week of school we all strut down to the gym for an assembly. Some of us get to go up on stage where they honor us for community service over the summer. That won’t be me, I’m sure, because I didn’t really complete anything and only worked a little while at each place. When the principal calls out Sophie’s name, I see a big smile light up her face. She gets a special certificate for going to the animal shelter at least once every single week, all summer. Cool.

  Then I hear my name.

  “Jared Westin.”

  Surprised, I climb the stairs up to the stage and walk toward the principal.

  “Jared Westin volunteered at both the Harris County Animal Shelter and the Harris Assisted Living Center this summer.”

  A little shiver travels up my spine as the principal hands me a decorated piece of paper with my name on it. It wasn’t really my idea to volunteer both places, and I feel a tinge of guilt at the polite round of applause.

  As we walk back to class, Sophie and I compare our certificates. And I remember to ask her about Torpedo.

  “Gloria told me he has until the end of September,” she says. “He’ll have been there for six months, which is way longer than most shelters keep them.”

  “And then what?”

  “If they can’t find him a new home, they do something else. Sometimes they transfer the ones that have been there too long to another shelter, but Gloria said m
ost shelters have way too many cats. So I think they put them to sleep.”

  “Put ‘em to sleep? I never would have taken him back there if I’d known that!” A huge knot tightens in my gut. “I heard my parents talking about getting Pete a cat for his birthday. But they’re talking about a kitten, one that he can play with. That won’t help Torpedo. And anyway, Petey’s birthday isn’t until October. What are we going to do?”

  “Maybe Gloria would let us adopt him…” says Sophie.

  “But I think you have to be eighteen years old to sign the form, and besides, it costs money.”

  “I don’t have any money, but maybe I could get my mother to come up and sign the form to adopt him,” she says, “and then we could give him to Pete.”

  The wheels in my head are turning now. I have a little money saved from my birthdays the last couple of years. I could use it to buy Petey the thing that he wants most for his birthday—Torpedo. But I don’t know if we should get Sophie’s mother to lie for us. I spent practically the whole summer telling lies, and none of them worked out very well.

  “Maybe I should just tell my parents about Torpedo,” I say. “Tell them he doesn’t have much time left.”

  “What if they say no? Then how would we save him?”

  “Shh,” Mr. Miyori says, staring straight at us. “Quiet as we walk down the halls please.”

  Right, I think. School means Rules. Ugh.

  I keep twisting it around in my head all day. What adult do I know that would help us get the cat before his time is up? How can I convince my parents to let Pete have the orange cat instead of a kitten?

  Torpedo is all Petey ever talks about. It would make me feel good to get him the cat, like I’m doing something nice for him, especially after his accident. I mean, he wouldn’t really have got hit by that car at all if he hadn’t been following me across the street on his bike.

  Old Frank would probably help me sign the form to adopt the cat if he could get up out of his wheel chair. But that wouldn’t work because they don’t allow pets down at the senior center, and Gloria probably knows that. Why hasn’t someone adopted Torpedo after all this time? Maybe it’s because he just sits all day in the back of his cage and doesn’t act friendly.