Bailey’s Peoria Problem

by Linda McQuinn Carlblom

  Alex stepped over rocks at the creek’s edge and hurried to Bailey. “What is it?”

  “Looks like dry sheep droppings,” Bailey said kneeling down.

  “Terrific!” Alex said, half smiling. “It can’t be from Gonzo’s farm, or it would have disintegrated into the soil by now.”

  “No, but it could be from Hazelwood sheep.” Bailey stood and kicked the dry clump with the toe of her tennis shoe. “Let’s keep looking.”

  Alex returned to her place by the water’s edge, and they continued their search. Shy sniffed the ground.

  “Hey, check this out!” Alex yelled a short time later.

  Bailey saw Alex squatting by the water. As she came closer, Alex reached into the creek. “What’s up?” Bailey asked her.

  “I found something.” Alex pulled a small yellow plastic tag with a number on it out of the water. The five-sided tag came to a rounded off point like a triangle at the top, but the sides and bottom were squared, making the whole thing the shape of a tiny house.

  “Looks like an ear tag from a sheep.” Bailey held out her hand, and Alex dropped the tag into it. “There’s a number on both sides. The tags are used for identification, but I don’t know how to read them or what they mean.”

  “Maybe Brian knows!” Alex’s hopeful eyes danced.

  “We’ll ask him when we get home.” Bailey handed the tag back to Alex, who slid it into her shirt pocket. “Wow! We’re almost past Yeller’s house already.”

  “And no sign of Fang, thank goodness!” Alex added.

  “Let’s keep looking.” Alex and Bailey split up again. Suddenly Shy took off ahead of them.

  She’s sure in a hurry. Bailey kept walking, eyes to the ground. Her head shot up when she heard Shy bark, though she couldn’t see the Australian shepherd.

  “I think Shy’s found something!” Bailey yelled. She and Alex ran toward the sound, staying low toward the creek until they were safely past Yeller’s backyard. They spied Shy by a fenced sheep pasture, barking. The sheep baaed and scattered in confused dismay at this unfamiliar dog making so much noise.

  “Sheep!” Bailey shouted at Alex. They reached Shy, out of breath. The dog settled down as soon as the girls reached her side.

  “I wonder who they belong to.” Alex covered her nose at the foul smell.

  “I don’t know, but they look—and smell—awful!” Bailey wrinkled her nose and frowned. “Uncle Nathan would have a fit if his flock looked like this.” Bailey went closer to inspect the sickly sheep. “Look at this poor, skinny ewe. She has a runny nose, her hooves need trimming, and she has sores on her head. These sheep are half starved. Some of them can barely walk! I bet they have parasites, too. Uncle Nathan is always watching his flock for signs of them because they’re so common with sheep.”

  Alex nodded her head. “Poor things.”

  “Hey! What are you doing?” a gruff voice yelled. A man ran toward Bailey and Alex, a fist raised in the air. Shy barked again.

  “We’re just out for a walk and stopped to see the sheep,” Bailey answered innocently, but the man appeared not to hear her. He stomped closer, his arms swinging madly with each step.

  “Bailey!” Alex said. “That’s Dude!”

  “Or Rude,” Bailey added, “since we don’t know which is which.”

  “We’d better go!” Alex grabbed Bailey’s hand.

  “No! Wait!” Bailey pulled her hand away. “This could be our chance to ask a few questions,” she whispered.

  “You’re on private property!” the wiry man growled. He wore a dirty white T-shirt and grimy jeans. His greasy brown hair looked like he’d just crawled out of bed.

  “We’re sorry,” Alex said. “We didn’t know.”

  “Are these your sheep?” Bailey asked.

  “Yeah, they’re mine. What of it?” the man answered, his voice low and raspy. The deep lines in his weathered face contorted in anger.

  “How long have you been sheep farming?” Bailey tried to sound like a friendly neighbor.

  “None of your business.”

  “I’m Bailey, and this is my friend, Alex.” Bailey stuck out her hand for the man to shake. She hoped he didn’t notice its tremble. “We’re here visiting my uncle. We leave on Saturday.”

  The man’s shoulders relaxed with that bit of news, and he hesitantly shook Bailey’s hand. He stared at them, his face clouded with suspicion.

  Behind her smile, Bailey gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to wipe her hand on her jeans after shaking the man’s dirt-encrusted hand.

  “What’s your name?” Alex asked, her face a mask of sweet innocence.

  Bailey could tell her friend had caught on to her friendly, naive, chatty-girls-asking-questions strategy.

  The man didn’t respond, and Bailey cringed at his stony glare.

  Bailey shrugged, maintaining the naive, chatty-girls plan. “Ever hear of someone named Gonzo?”

  The man’s small, close-set blue eyes widened slightly, and he squared his shoulders. “Gonzo? That’s my name!”

  Bailey stood up straight. “You’re Gonzo?”

  Shy took a tentative step or two and growled low and throaty.

  Alex’s mouth hung open. “B–but…you’re supposed to be dead!”

  “Huh?” Gonzo frowned.

  Grrrowuf! Just then Fang charged across the yard at them in a snarling mass of teeth and fur. Shy barked back just as fiercely and flew toward the muscular dog.

  “Shy! No!” Bailey screamed. She tore after the dog toward the weed-ridden yard of the neglected house.

  Alex followed on Bailey’s heels. The girls saw Yeller standing by the barn trying to call off the dog. A third man, either Dude or Rude, pulled Yeller out of sight.

  “I…can’t…breathe,” Bailey gasped, reaching into her pocket for her inhaler. She searched the wrong pocket and found the snack she brought for Fang. Between wheezes, she ripped open the package, and tossed it at him. Then she stuck her hand in the other pocket and grasped her inhaler. Dropping to the ground, she quickly uncapped it, put it in her mouth, and squeezed.

  “Keep…running toward…home!” she told Alex. “Shy will…follow you. She’s…just trying…to protect us.” Bailey glanced at the pasture where the sick sheep were. Her skin crawled when she spotted Gonzo leaning against the fence.

  “I’m not leaving you here!” Alex yelled.

  “Go!” Bailey commanded. “I’ll be…behind you.” Her mouth was dry and her palms sweaty as she struggled to stand.

  Alex helped her up and then did as she was told. Bailey trailed her as closely as she was able. She heard the snarling and growling of the dogs fighting. The cheese crackers she tossed to Fang apparently hadn’t slowed him down. Shy yelped. Moments later the dog limped beside the girls.

  “And stay away!” Bailey heard one of the men yell. Then he roared with laughter.

  “Don’t look back,” Alex said. As they neared the road, they slowed to a walk. “Are you okay?”

  Bailey nodded, still gasping for breath.

  “Good thing you had your inhaler along this time.”

  “Yeah.” Bailey crouched down to look at Shy. “You okay, girl?”

  The dog nuzzled Bailey’s face and licked her.

  Bailey wrapped her arms around Shy’s neck, breathing deeply to slow her pulse. “That awful dog bit the back of your neck,” she said moving Shy’s fur aside. “And look at your leg. You got some pretty nasty cuts there. Come on. Let’s go see Uncle Nathan.”

  “How will we explain this?” Alex asked.

  “What’s to explain?” Bailey replied. “We went for a walk by the creek and a mean dog attacked Shy.”

  “That’s it?”

  “What more do we need to say?” Bailey asked with her eyebrows raised.

  “What about the men? What about Gonzo?” “What about them?”

  “Don’t you think we should tell your uncle what happened?” Alex nearly yelled.

  “Nothing happened!” Bailey yelled back.
“The guy said his name was Gonzo. The dog got loose, and we ran. End of story.”

  “He warned us not to come back.” Alex looked sideways at her friend.

  “He didn’t warn us,” Bailey said. “He just said to stay away.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Look. We’re closer now than we’ve ever been to solving this mystery. Please,” Bailey pleaded, “let’s not mess it up now.”

  Alex sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right,” she mumbled. “But if anything else happens, we have to tell.”

  “Deal.” Bailey hugged Alex. “Friends?”

  Alex laughed. “Of course. Always.”

  “We need to ask Brian about this sheep tag.” Alex patted her shirt pocket. “Oh no, Bailey! It’s gone!”

  The Old Wooden Sign

  “How could it be gone?” Bailey asked. “You put it in your pocket just awhile ago.”

  “It must have bounced out when we were running.” Alex turned, scanning the yard of dirt and tall weeds they had just crossed.

  “I bet we could find it if we retraced our steps,” Bailey said.

  “I’m not going back there!” Alex’s jaw clenched. “I just got my heart rate back to normal. Besides, we need to get Shy home.”

  Looking one last time at the run-down house, Bailey scratched Shy behind the ears. “I guess you’re right. Come on, girl. Let’s go.”

  The girls hurried back to the house, Shy limping along beside them.

  “Uncle Nathan!” Bailey called as they approached the barn, but the shears drowned out her voice. Her uncle turned them off when he spotted them.

  “What are you two up to?” he asked.

  “Uncle Nathan, Shy’s been hurt,” Bailey told him.

  Uncle Nathan hurried to them and bent to inspect his sheepdog. Bailey knew Shy was not only a part of the family, but she played an important role in his sheep business. He tenderly lifted the injured leg. “She may need stitches. I’d better get her to Doc Maddox.”

  “She has a cut on her neck, too.” Bailey spread Shy’s fur to show him.

  “That one doesn’t look quite as bad.” Uncle Nathan picked up Shy like Bailey had often seen him pick up lambs and headed toward his truck. “Tell Brian we’re leaving while I load her into the truck.”

  Bailey did as she was told and was back moments later.

  “What happened to her?” Uncle Nathan asked as Bailey climbed into the truck.

  “We were taking a walk down by the creek,” Alex began.

  “And a big, mean dog charged out from that old house across the creek,” Bailey finished.

  “We think Shy tried to protect us by going after the dog.” Alex frowned.

  “Shy fought that dog like mad until we were safely past.” Bailey sighed sadly. “Then she caught up with us and we came home.”

  “Were you on our side of the creek?”

  Bailey glanced at Alex. “No, we had crossed the creek.”

  Uncle Nathan looked at Bailey in his rearview mirror. “Why’d you do that?”

  Bailey licked her lips. “I…I don’t know. We found a safe place to cross with stepping-stones and everything. The water wasn’t deep.”

  “The water’s never deep,” her uncle replied sternly. “But the other side of the creek is someone else’s property. You shouldn’t go there without permission.”

  Bailey grew quiet for a moment. “Uncle Nathan, we found out they’re keeping sheep over there and aren’t taking care of them,” she said, not sure if she should tell him. “You should see them. They’re skin and bones, their noses are runny, their hooves need trimming. It’d make you sick!” Her voice rose passionately.

  Uncle Nathan’s eyes darted to his mirror. “Did you see the owners?” he asked.

  Bailey and Alex exchanged looks. The truth. Bailey knew what was right, and she had to do it. “Yeah, we met one of the owners.” Her voice sounded reluctant.

  “Bailey…what are you not telling me?” Uncle Nathan pressed.

  “He said his name was Gonzo. He was filthy, and he didn’t even try to help Shy or us when his dog chased us!” Her words spilled out like water over a cliff. Unexpected tears sprang to Bailey’s eyes. She wasn’t sure if they were from having to admit what they’d done or from the fear she felt as Shy was being attacked.

  “We heard him—or one of the other men—laugh as we ran away,” Alex added.

  “Other men? What other men?” Uncle Nathan asked.

  “We saw one man by the barn, and he tried to call off the dog,” Bailey explained. “But another man jerked him back into the barn.”

  Her uncle’s temples moved as he ground his teeth. A blue vein bulged on his forehead, but he said nothing. Finally, he blew air from his mouth, like steam being released from a pressurized pot.

  “I will have a word with our neighbor,” he said in carefully measured words. “That will never happen again. These men sound cruel, and I don’t want you near them. Stay off their property. You hear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Bailey said softly.

  “We’re sorry about all this,” Alex said, remorse filling her voice.

  “I know you are. It’s okay. At least you weren’t hurt.”

  “But Shy was,” Bailey said, her voice trembling. She brushed away hot tears.

  “Shy’ll be fine. Doc Maddox will stitch her, and she’ll be good as new in a few days,” Uncle Nathan reassured her. “She’s used to having to protect the sheep. She’s fought off worse than that dog before.”

  They arrived at the vet’s office, and Uncle Nathan carried Shy in.

  Bailey’s spirits rose at the good report Doc Maddox gave after examining the sheepdog. “She’ll be chasing sheep again in no time!”

  Turned out Uncle Nathan was right. Doc Maddox sewed Shy up in minutes, and they headed back home.

  “Hey, look at that.” Uncle Nathan pointed out his window. “A flea market. Should we stop?”

  “Yeah!” Bailey yelled.

  They pulled into the parking lot, rolled the windows down a little for Shy, and got out. “I’m going to look at the tool booth,” Uncle Nathan said.

  “Ugh, tools,” Bailey teased her uncle. “Can we look around at other stuff? We have our cell phones, so you can call us when you’re ready to go.”

  “You don’t want to look at tools with me?” Uncle Nathan grinned and winked. “I guess you can look at something else.”

  “Thanks! See ya!” Bailey and Alex took off.

  The girls fingered hair accessories, stuffed animals, and wind chimes. They tried on hats and laughed at their reflections in the mirror.

  “Look at this booth,” Alex said. “Everything is carved out of wood.”

  “Cool!” Bailey picked up a small wooden sign with her name carved in it, then set it back down and continued browsing. “Alex, look!” Her eyes were fixed on a rough sign carved out of old barn wood hanging with other used items.

  “BRINDLE BRANCH FARM!” Alex’s mouth fell open as soon as she read the words.

  “May I help you?” An older man, with a face that looked like it, too, had been hewn from old wood, stood beside them.

  “Yes,” Alex replied. “We were wondering about that Brindle Branch sign.”

  “Oh yes, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?” the man said.

  “Do you know anything about its history?” Bailey pointed her watch at the sign and snapped a picture when the man turned his back.

  “We got that sign in several weeks ago from a sheep farmer. Said it used to be the name of his property, and the sign hung over the front door of his farmhouse.”

  “Used to be the name?” Alex asked. “Did he say what the farm’s called now?”

  “No. Sorry, he didn’t.”

  “What did the man look like?” Bailey asked.

  “What did he look like?” The man chuckled softly. “I’m afraid I don’t remember.” He thought a moment. “Kinda dark, maybe, sort of tall.” He waved his hand in dismay. “Aw, I don’t know. I get too many peopl
e in here to remember what one man looks like.”

  “Do you know where this Brindle Branch Farm was located?” Alex twisted a curl around her finger.

  “Can’t say I do. Must not be too far though, or this fellow probably wouldn’t have brought the sign here, I suppose.”

  “How much does it cost?” Bailey felt for her wallet.

  “Twenty dollars.”

  Bailey looked at Alex. “We’ll think about it. Thanks for the information.”

  “My pleasure.” The man turned to help another customer.

  “I only have ten dollars with me,” Bailey told Alex.

  “Let me see how much I have.” Alex did a quick count. “Eight dollars and seventy-eight cents.”

  “Not enough to buy that sign.” Bailey sighed.

  “Unless he’ll let us have it for less.” Alex smiled. “They often do that at flea markets!”

  “Good idea!” Bailey said. “You want to ask him?”

  Alex went up to the old gentleman and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, sir.”

  “Yes, how can I help you?”

  “That Brindle Branch sign. Would you take fifteen dollars for it?”

  The man’s forehead wrinkled. “Fifteen? Hmm. I don’t know.…”

  “Please, sir,” Bailey begged. “It’s practically all the money we have with us.”

  The man eyed them carefully and then melted like butter on a hot biscuit. “Oh, I guess fifteen would be all right. No one else has even looked at it in the time we’ve had it.” His eyes sparkled at the girls as he lifted the sign off its hook and wrapped it in brown paper.

  “That’ll be sixteen dollars and twenty cents with tax.”

  “Great!” Bailey smiled at the man and handed him the cash. “You don’t know how much this means to us!”

  “I don’t know why young gals like you would want an old beat-up sign like that, but I’m glad you like it.”

  The girls walked down the row of booths. “We still have enough money left over to buy a treat from the candy booth.” Bailey’s mouth watered at the idea.

  The girls each chose a treat—Skittles for Bailey and a granola bar for Alex.

  Bailey’s phone vibrated in her pocket. “Hello?”

  “I’m done at the tool booth. Are you girls ready to go?” Uncle Nathan asked.