Belle's Challenge

by Connie Gotsch

  Buster slouched beside me, head down. “My tail hurts where Emily stepped on me.”

  “I hate this job,” I growled.

  “Be patient. Give it a chance. Don’t blame the whole job for what Emily did. It was fun working with Katherine today,” he rumbled back.

  Susan and Jazzy joined us as we stepped outside.

  “That Emily is a weirdo,” said Darcy. “How could she claim Belle bit her?”

  “She knows Belle didn’t hurt her.” Susan put a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “You’re her target, remember?”

  I tucked my tail between my legs. More like Buster and I were her targets. Maybe Darcy should find another social studies project.

  Chapter 9

  Buster Speaks His Mind

  Darcy let us into our den. I gulped water from my dish and lay down on my sleeping blanket. Buster marched to the other end of the burrow and settled under the table.

  My mind chattered. Trying to clear it, I licked my paws. What was the point of being a therapy dog and putting up with Emily?

  Raising his head, Buster sent a soft growl across the dog channel.

  I jumped to my feet. “What’s your problem?”

  “Look, Belle!” The hair rose on his neck and shoulders. “If you don’t like being a therapy dog and want to be miserable about it, fine. But I happen to like the job. I never thought I would, but I do. So keep your attitude to yourself.”

  “Emily and Darcy got us sent home, not me.” I lifted my tail high.

  “That’s not the point.” Stalking to me, he stuck his nose on mine. “You were mad when Jazzy could put her paw on a book just like you could. You think you’re smart because you learned that trick faster than I did. You’re not the only one who’s allowed to learn and you’re not the only one who can learn, even if others are slow at it.”

  I spread my legs and held my ground. “This therapy dog stuff makes no sense!”

  He looked me straight in the eye. “Rabid cats, Belle, does everything always have to be sensible to you?”

  “Well, of course. Otherwise, what’s the point of doing it?”

  “For somebody else.”

  The hair on my back rose. “Darcy owes me a big bone for putting up with what Emily did.”

  “What about Katherine?” Buster let out a roaring bark.

  “What about her?” I thundered back.

  “She was scared when she started reading. When she figured out that big word, her fear smell got less strong. There was a faint scent of snapdragons under it, like she was happy with herself.” Buster paused.

  I stared at him. “Her smell changed? I didn’t notice that.”

  “Of course, you didn’t. You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself. If you’d stop behaving like a dog pile, you’d smell the difference.” He waited, face right next to mine.

  I took a step back, confused. Was that why his nose was wiggling this afternoon? He’d smelled a change in Katherine that I had missed?

  Buster glared at me. “I don’t understand how we’re helping anybody at the library any more than you do. But I do know whatever we’re doing, it made Katherine smell happier for about as long as it takes to eat a dog biscuit. And that makes me happy.”

  I didn’t know what to say. My thoughts whirled so fast that I took another step back.

  So did Buster. We stared at each other. Then Buster slid under the table.

  Darcy came into the kitchen. A faint smell of pepper and dry leaves clung to her.

  “What is all the growling and barking in here about? Let’s go on the patio. Belle, you can jump through the hoop.”

  I wagged my tail. Jumping always made me feel better.

  “Flea-brained idea,” grumped Buster as he pulled himself upright. “Why is jumping through hoops important?” He slapped me with his tail.

  I glowered at him as Darcy opened the sliding glass door.

  “Don’t like your own garbage, huh, Belle?” He pushed past me and went outside.

  I lobbed myself through the plastic yellow hoop Darcy held up. Somehow, I didn’t have the spirit to fly through like I usually did.

  Darcy still smelled like dried leaves. She didn’t seem to have her usual energy either.

  The door to Susan’s den banged, and I smelled her sage and Jazzy’s earthy scent. They strolled into our yard.

  “That looks like fun,” Jazzy called.

  “Can I teach Jazzy to jump through a hoop?” Susan buttoned up her jacket with one hand and held Jazzy’s leash with the other.

  I heard envy in her voice and put some power behind my next spring.

  “Sure.” Tossing me a treat, Darcy held the hoop out to Susan.

  Susan took biscuits from Darcy, balanced the hoop on the ground and tugged at Jazzy’s leash, pulling her through. “Jump.”

  Jazzy understood the command after a couple of tries. Susan lifted the hoop, and the Airedale hopped through. She raised the hoop, higher and Jazzy jumped, a cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg smell mixing with her terrier scent.

  I took a turn. Jazzy took a turn. Back and forth we leapt and ran. Blood pounded in my ears, and I took deep breaths. Spirits lifting, I raised my tail.

  “Cool bones,” Jazzy panted.

  “Way cool,” I said. Jazzy was okay as long as I didn’t run off with her, and Susan was around. I also had to admit jumping with her was fun.

  Susan pointed to a branch that jutted from the trunk of the peach tree. “Can we tie the hoop up there? That would make it really high.”

  Darcy went inside and returned with a rope. As she shut the glass door, I located Margaret’s scent somewhere in the den. Across the irrigation ditch at the Robinson’s den, a light flickered in the food burrow. I growled low in my throat.

  Susan tied the hoop to the branch. Holy dog biscuits. I’d never jumped that high in my life. Now the game was really interesting.

  Susan called to Jazzy. “Jump.”

  Jazzy took off running from the edge of the patio. Soaring through the hoop, she landed and skimmed around a grass clump.

  I walked to the door for my start. Jazzy was a lot bigger than I, but maybe I could leap as high as she had.

  “Jump!” Darcy shouted.

  I tore at the hoop and sprang as hard as I could. My back legs nicked the rim, and I catapulted into the grass Jazzy had avoided. Before Darcy could catch me, I raced back to the door, wheeled and flung myself at the hoop. This time, I cleared it and dropped onto gravel and dirt.

  “Wow,” woofed Jazzy. “You must love to leap.”

  You bet your dog biscuits. Dropping to a sit, I caught my breath and glanced at Buster.

  He watched me, eyes half open.

  “So there,” I barked. “Do you get it now? I need a challenge like this hoop, not a session on some blanket.” Turning to Jazzy I said, “Thanks for the competition.”

  “You’re the one who needs to get it, Belle,” rumbled Buster. “Not every challenge requires physical activity. Not everything needs to be a contest.” Turning his head, he watched a bird swoop down to grab a drink of water from the ditch.

  What in dog heaven was he talking about?

  I didn’t have time to figure it out. The door to the Robinson’s den opened and banged shut. Emily strode to her side of the stream.

  “What are you doing, Darcy?” Her voice dripped like honey.

  Darcy ignored her. Susan commanded Jazzy to jump.

  “What are you doing?” Emily repeated, the smell of fake roses rolling off her.

  Darcy turned to me. “Jump, Belle.”

  I scurried to the door, smelling Margaret through it. She must be standing close, looking out. As I raced toward the hoop, I saw Emily bend.

  Launching myself, I stretched—into a shower of stones. They stung like an Illinois hail storm. Squeezing my eyes shut, I
lowered my head, caught my foot on the hoop, hung and tumbled to the ground, breath bursting from my lungs.

  Smelling of pepper, Buster barked. “Beat it, Emily,” he roared.

  Jazzy’s bellow joined his. “Yeah, beat it.”

  “You answer me when I talk to you, Darcy.” Emily flung more stones at us.

  Darcy slapped her hands onto her hips. “If my dog’s hurt, you’ll pay the vet bill, Emily Robinson.”

  “Make me.” Emily tossed her head.

  Running to me and kneeling, Darcy stroked my shoulders. “Belle, are you all right?”

  Susan and Jazzy hovered behind her. Susan smelled like pepper and dry leaves. Jazzy’s odor resembled burned wood. “If I did what I’d like to do right now, I’d end up in trouble with animal control,” she rumbled. “The idea of throwing stones into a dog’s face when she’s jumping.”

  My head pounded, and my muzzle smarted.

  Our den door opened and Margaret’s steps hurried toward us.

  More stones clattered. Darcy shielded me with her arms and head.

  My lungs filled, I gulped once or twice, scrambled to my feet and breathed. Darcy drew me toward our den.

  Buster ran up to me. “You didn’t have a chance to duck.”

  I let him lick dust off my face, though I was still furious with him.

  The Robinson’s door opened. “Emily!” A man’s voice shouted. “Come in here. Now.”

  I shuddered. He sounded as nasty as Uncle Jim.

  “Why don’t you to come in, too, Darcy.” Margaret spoke in a low voice. “I’ll make some tea.”

  Oh, fleas. Was Margaret mad at Darcy? Maybe not if she offered to make tea.

  Darcy bit her lip.

  Susan snapped Jazzy’s leash on to her collar, shot Darcy a sympathetic look and started toward her den.

  Buster and I followed Darcy and Margaret inside, tails between our legs.

  Darcy and Margaret sat on a sofa in the computer burrow, cups in their hands.

  From the food burrow door where I stood, I smelled the sweet fragrance of oranges and tea leaves.

  Buster sat beside me, nose wiggling. “I don’t smell anger on Margaret.”

  “I don’t see how she could be mad at anyone but Emily,” I retorted, my stomach tighter than a tangled leash.

  Putting her tea on a low table, Margaret took Darcy’s hand. “I had quite a long talk with Mrs. Redhouse after you left the library.”

  Gaze lowered, Darcy set down her cup.

  “She’s going to develop a policy that people who are disruptive in the library will be barred from using it for 10 days. That might curb Emily.”

  Darcy didn’t lift her gaze. “What’s wrong with Emily? Why would she make up a story that Belle bit her?”

  “I don’t know.” Margaret paused.

  Darcy smelled like dried leaves. Before I thought about it, I found myself beside her with my head in her lap.

  Buster curled at her feet.

  Margaret kept Darcy’s hand in hers. “She might be under a lot of pressure at home. Maybe her parents expect extra good behavior of her since her father is a public figure, and she feels she can’t live up to it, or she resents it and is acting out.”

  “Or maybe she’s picked up her mother’s fear of dogs and is trying to protect Katherine,” Darcy mused. Then she frowned. “What she did just now is like…serious, right? Somebody could have gotten hurt.”

  “Yes,” Margaret nodded.

  I pressed my nose against Darcy’s arm. “Yeah, like me.”

  She stroked me. “I guess I aggravated her when I said dogs were cleaner than she was.” She squeezed Margaret’s hand.

  Margaret returned the squeeze. “What else could you have tried?”

  Darcy pondered, picking up her tea. “Maybe I could have gone into the house. Or…” She grinned. “Or taken Belle on the drive and let her jump. Maybe I’ll do that next time. Emily won’t see me, unless she happens to be walking down our street.”

  Margaret laughed.

  Darcy chuckled with her. Then her mouth straightened and she sighed. “But then I won’t be able to get the hoop very high. There aren’t any low branches on the peach tree in the front.”

  Fleas on Emily. Keeping my head in Darcy’s lap, I heaved a sigh.

  She snapped her fingers. “Unless Dad could build me a frame that would support the hoop.” She looked at her mother.

  “He probably could. Or you could use a longer rope to adjust the height of the hoop.” Margaret smiled. “I would also like you to tell me if Emily’s badgering you. Your father and I will figure out if we need to do something, okay?”

  Darcy nodded. “The only class I have with her right now is chorus, and Mrs. Merriwether won’t take any nonsense from her. Which is lucky because I have to sing a duet with Emily for our Christmas concert.” Darcy rubbed my head. “The thing I don’t get is Emily seems to have friends.”

  Margaret sighed. “There are always people who will hang around a person like Emily since she’s connected to someone important.”

  “I get it.” Darcy finished her tea. “Poor Emily. What a reason to have friends, if they really are friends.”

  “You’ve got it.” Margaret patted her hand. “And you don’t know how Mr. Robinson’s position as mayor affects Emily’s family life. There might be things going on in the family that no one knows about.”

  Darcy’s hand tightened on my neck. “Maybe I should never have tried out for chorus and soccer. I wouldn’t have crossed Emily.”

  Margaret shook her head. “Emily’s problem has nothing to do with your choices. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  “Mom.” Darcy licked her lips. “What if I can’t get Emily to leave me alone?”

  “Then we’ll have some decisions to make. Maybe we’ll enroll you in a different school. There’s a good private one in Appleton.”

  “You mean Mesa Linda?” Darcy ran her fingers down my spine.

  Margaret nodded. “Its focus is on class, not all the social stuff that goes on other places.”

  Darcy hugged me. “But if I went there, I couldn’t be in chorus and soccer with Susan.” Drawing a breath, she held me tighter. “I’d miss Mrs. Merriwether and Mrs. Gorsky. I love social studies this year.”

  Margaret took her last swallow of tea but said nothing.

  “Besides,” Darcy continued. “Mesa Linda is across town from us. How would I get there?”

  Margaret shrugged. “I could take you in the morning, but I probably couldn’t pick you up, since I work in the afternoon. So you’d take the city bus home.”

  “I don’t even know where the city bus goes,” Darcy laughed.

  “Look up Appleton Transit Company on the computer and see,” Margaret replied.

  Darcy walked to the computer and tapping the keys, she read the screen. “The bus runs once an hour. If school gets out at three, I’d have to wait until four to go home.” Returning to the sofa, she wrapped one arm around me and her other around Buster and squeezed us both. “I wouldn’t have much time to play with these guys. And I couldn’t do the reading program at the library.”

  Buster’s ears sagged.

  I swallowed the thought that quitting the reading program wouldn’t bother me. Scrambling onto my hind legs, I crawled into Darcy’s lap.

  She let go of Buster and held me.

  “We have to help Darcy somehow, Buster,” I said.

  He looked up at me. “We will, Belle. Meantime, why don’t you show compassion to little Katherine and let her read to you? What do you think it’s like to have to live with Emily?”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet in Darcy’s arms. If I said the wrong thing to Buster, I’d make him madder at me the same way Darcy made Emily madder by snapping at her.

  Chapter 10

&nb
sp; Tough Decision

  Ears down, I cowered in Susan’s driveway, letting her scrub my back while Darcy held my collar.

  “Sorry, Belle,” Darcy laughed. “I know you hate baths, but you need to be super clean to go to the library.”

  I tucked my tail between my legs and envied Jazzy and Buster, who lay in the yard, towels wrapped around them.

  Somewhere down the street, a child shouted. To distract myself from my drenched and dripping body, I listened. Katherine. Where was Emily? I sniffed but all I could smell was soap.

  Mrs. Krebbs walked to her front door and waved to us. Buster woofed ‘hello’ and Jazzy wagged her tail.

  Susan rubbed my neck, working in the suds.

  Spray tickled my nose. Poof. I shook, spattering Susan, who held my collar.

  A peel of harsh laugher made me jump and spin toward the sound.

  Emily stood on the sidewalk. Fleas on the soap that had kept me from smelling her.

  Darcy picked up a hose and ran water over me. As the suds bubbled into the gravel, I caught the stench of Emily’s perfume.

  “Hey,” Susan waved to her. “Wanna come help groom the dogs, Emily?”

  With a gasp, Darcy stared at Susan.

  So did I. Had fleas eaten Susan’s brain? I glanced at Buster. “If she accepts, she’s all yours.”

  “Same,” growled Jazzy.

  “You kidding, Susan? The therapy dog program is going to be gone by Christmas. You’ll see. The city council is going to cut the library budget.” She glowered at Darcy. “Your mom’s gonna get canned.”

  Darcy turned her back on Emily. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” she whispered.

  Tossing her head, Emily stalked away.

  Susan faced the den. Following her gaze, I saw her mother leave the doorway.

  With a shrug, Susan looked at Darcy, who still stared, hose dangling in her hand.

  “Mom suggested I be nice to Emily and see what happened. I didn’t think it would work, but I promised I’d give it a try.”