Hero

by Jennifer Li Shotz

LATER THAT NIGHT, BEN TOOK THE dogs into the backyard to run them around before bed. He gently lobbed a ball across the lawn. Hero raced after it, but Scout was busy playing with a stick he had found in the grass. He gripped it between his teeth and waved it around in a big figure eight.

  Hero leaped up and snatched the ball out of the air. He carried it over to Scout. As Hero approached, Scout dropped the stick and wagged his tail. Hero deposited the ball at the puppy’s feet and nudged it toward him with his nose. Scout picked it up and commenced chewing on it.

  “Aw, Hero,” Ben said. “That was nice of you, pal. Bring me the ball, Scout!”

  Scout looked at Ben but didn’t move.

  “Come on, Scout! Bring me the ball.” Ben patted his thigh with his palm to summon the dog over. Confused, Scout dropped the ball on the grass. Hero instantly picked it up and carried it over to Ben. Then Hero looked back at Scout, as if to say, See?

  Ben took the ball. “Just like that, okay, Scout? Let’s try it again.” Ben lofted the ball gently into the air toward Scout. Scout saw the airborne object heading toward him and startled. He leaped sideways as quickly as he could.

  “It’s okay, Scout,” Ben called out. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

  But Scout wasn’t buying it. He crouched in the grass, his eyes locked on the ball as it landed on the ground a few feet away from him. Only after the ball came to a complete stop did Scout run over and tackle it.

  Ben’s dad came outside to watch the dogs in action.

  “Do you think Scout’s afraid of the ball because it’s moving,” Ben asked his dad, “or because I threw it?”

  “Hard to say. Try it again,” his dad replied.

  At the sound of the grown man’s voice, Scout’s head snapped up. The puppy eyed Ben’s dad with suspicion.

  “What’s wrong with him, Dad?” Ben asked, his voice tinged with worry.

  “He’s so young,” Ben’s dad said, shaking his head. “If a big man made him fight bigger dogs . . .” He trailed off. “That can imprint on a little pup like that forever. Safe bet the people who did that to him were men, like me. I can’t really blame Scout for his less-than-trusting attitude.”

  Hero nosed at Scout and gently tipped him over sideways, then commenced licking the puppy’s fur.

  Ben couldn’t imagine who would do that to such a young puppy—or to any dog, really. It made him sad to think about how scared and lonely Scout had already felt in his short life. First he was treated terribly: then he was all alone in the woods. No wonder he was so skittish.

  “Go on,” Ben’s dad said. “Throw the ball for him again.”

  Ben took the ball from Scout. He walked back to his original spot and held the ball out in front of him. Scout followed it with his eyes. Very gently, Ben rolled the ball on the grass. As it approached Scout, he leaped to his feet and scooted backward, a growl escaping his throat.

  The ball stopped, and Scout sniffed at it. He swatted at it with one paw.

  “He’s just a real nervous pup,” Ben’s dad said.

  “What can I do to help him?” Ben asked.

  His dad exhaled slowly, thinking. “It’s possible that with some good training and a safe environment, Scout could be less jumpy. And he might get more comfortable with people, especially men.”

  “Really?” Ben asked excitedly. “Do you mean regular training like ‘sit’ and ‘stay’ and stuff? Or can we teach him some search-and-rescue commands?”

  “Well, remember, we don’t know how long he’s going to be here with us. But no matter what, don’t get your hopes up too high, Ben. I can’t say for sure that anything will help. This dog has been through some pretty rough stuff. He’s got some trust issues.”

  “It can’t hurt to try, though, right?” Ben asked.

  “Not at all,” his dad said. He grinned and tipped his head toward Hero. “Assuming the boss dog is okay with it. How does that sound, Hero?”

  Hero gave a soft woof and began panting. It looked like there was a smile on his face.

  Ben hated that Scout was so anxious. He had to do something to help the puppy feel better. He crossed the lawn and squatted down next to the dogs.

  “Okay, Scout,” Ben said, “we’re gonna learn a few moves. You ready?” Scout flopped over onto his back.

  Ben ran into the kitchen and grabbed some of Hero’s treats from the bag on the counter. When Ben got back outside, both dogs caught the scent immediately and jumped up.

  “Come here, Scout!” From his spot on the grass, Scout cocked his head and looked at Ben, his ears flopping a little. “Come here, boy!” Ben repeated. He held out the treat and waved it in the air. Scout stood up and trotted toward Ben. Hero stayed put but watched Ben and Scout intently.

  “Attaboy,” Ben said soothingly. “Good boy, Scout. Okay. Now you need to learn to sit. Sit,” he said firmly, pushing down on Scout’s backside at the same time. “Sit,” Ben repeated.

  Scout lay down on his tummy and wagged his tail. He let out a short yip. He rolled over onto his back and thrust all four paws into the air. He barked again. He did everything but sit.

  Ben and his dad laughed.

  Hero hopped up and walked over to Scout. The bigger dog stood right next to Scout, looked at Ben, and wagged his tail. Ben couldn’t believe it—Hero was waiting for Ben to give him the sit command so he could demonstrate to Scout what he was supposed to do.

  “Is Hero doing what I think he’s doing, Dad?”

  His dad nodded. “He sure is. Apparently our Hero is now a teacher.”

  “Okay, Scout,” Ben said. “Watch Hero. Hero, sit.”

  Hero sat, his front paws placed close together, his legs straight. He waited patiently for the treat, which Ben held out on his palm.

  “See, Scout? That’s sitting.”

  Scout watched, looking from Hero to Ben’s palm and back again. Ben and Hero repeated the command a couple of times. Scout’s whole body started to wiggle with anticipation.

  “Your turn,” Ben said to the puppy. “Scout, sit.”

  Scout barked. He bolted a few feet away, then zigzagged back. An energetic fluff ball, Scout flopped down onto the grass right next to Hero.

  Ben laughed. “Okay, we’re getting there, I guess? Let’s try it again. Hero, sit.”

  Hero sat.

  “Scout, sit!” Ben said.

  Scout sat. Hero barked excitedly.

  “Attaboy, Scout!” Ben called out, giving the puppy a treat.

  “I’ve seen Hero take care of other animals before,” Ben’s dad said, “but nothing like this. A few years back, we tracked a runaway teenager to an old farmhouse where there were a bunch of neglected horses and dogs and ducks. Well, the animal control guys were having some trouble rounding up all the animals, so Hero took it upon himself to help out. He herded this little brood of ducklings around the property, all the way around a pond, and right up to the van like he’d been doing it all his life.” Ben’s dad chuckled at the memory. “Down at the station, they called him ‘Cowboy’ for a month.”

  Scout licked Hero’s face. Hero closed his eyes and let the puppy snuffle and snort in his ear.

  “Well, Scout may not be a duckling,” Ben said, “but Hero is pretty crazy about him.”

  “Seems that way,” his dad said, heading for the back door. “I set up a crate for Scout in the kitchen. Good night, Ben.”

  “Good night, Dad.”

  Ben watched Hero and Scout for a few minutes. Hero lay down on the grass, his head resting on his front paws and his eyes closed while Scout clambered up and over his back. Hero’s fur twitched as Scout’s nails tickled him, and Scout’s tail wagged a mile a minute. It was like they had known each other forever—not for just a few hours.

  Ben hated to break up the fun, but it was getting late, and he still had homework to do. He took out another treat from his pocket and opened the door to the kitchen.

  “Hero, come,” he said. Hero hopped up, sending Scout rolling onto the grass, and trotted toward Ben. Scout wh
impered and looked after Hero longingly. “Scout, come,” Ben said. Scout whined some more and buried his nose in the ground, snorting loudly. Hero walked back to Scout and nudged the puppy with his snout. “Scout, come,” Ben repeated. Reluctantly, Scout stood up and waddled over toward Ben.

  Ben placed the treat in Scout’s crate. Scout stepped right inside and snatched it up. He didn’t even flinch when Ben closed the door and latched it. Ben could tell Scout was comfortable being in a cage. He must have had one wherever he’d lived before, Ben figured—and it was probably the safest place he knew.

  “Good night, Scout,” Ben said, wiggling a finger through the metal bars. Scout lay down on the old towels Ben’s mom had put in the crate, along with a water bowl. “Come on, Hero,” Ben said. “Let’s go upstairs.” Hero slept at the foot of Ben’s bed every night.

  But Hero had plopped down next to Scout’s cage, and he was clearly settled in for the night. Ben shook his head in wonder.

  “Look at you, Hero,” he said, laughing. “You’re a goner for this pup. Fine. Good night, pal.” He gave Hero one good scratch behind the ears and headed upstairs to his room.

  Ben collapsed onto his bed and yawned. It had gotten late, and he still had a couple of hours of homework. He pulled out his books. A handout with a long list of words stuck out from between two of them. Ugh! The vocab quiz in the morning—he’d forgotten about it. He had more work than he’d realized.

  On top of the stack of homework was a dog-training book that Ben had checked out of the library. It was written by a former police dog trainer. He’d wanted to learn more about how to give Hero his commands, but maybe it would come in handy for training Scout too.

  With a guilty glance at his textbooks and vocab list, Ben flipped it open. Just for a few minutes, he promised himself. I’ll do my homework after. He read the introduction, which talked all about something called positive reinforcement. Instead of focusing on punishing your dog, you were supposed to praise them whenever they did something good.

  Ben practiced some of the basic commands—come, stop, roll over. It was almost midnight. He reached for his math notebook and started on the first problem. He just had to solve for x . . . But Ben’s eyelids were so heavy. His head too. He just needed some support from the pillow. Just for a few minutes . . .

  5

  “BEN! ARE YOU STILL ASLEEP UP there?”

  Ben bolted upright, confused about why he was fully dressed on his bed. His math notebook was open on his lap, and his pencil had fallen on the floor. The light was on. He’d fallen asleep doing his homework. He checked his alarm clock. He was late for school, and his vocab quiz was first period.

  “Ben!”

  “Uh—I’m coming, Mom!”

  Ben leaped out of bed and changed his clothes as quickly as he could. He threw his backpack over his shoulder and raced downstairs. Hero lay on the kitchen floor, and Scout was out of his crate. Ben zipped past them and dumped some kibble in their bowls. Hero ate slowly, picking up a bite of food and stepping away from his bowl while he chewed it. Scout, on the other hand, scarfed his food down in record time. Out of the corner of his eye, as he grabbed his lunch from the fridge, Ben saw Hero stop eating and push his bowl toward Scout. Scout happily dug into the last of Hero’s kibble.

  Hero looked over at Ben and wagged his tail, ready for his usual morning walk.

  “Sorry, Hero,” Ben said. “I’m late for school, but I’ll take you for an extra-long walk later, I promise.” Hero’s tail dropped as Ben headed for the door without him. “Take care of Scout today, okay?”

  Ben got to school after the last bell had already rung. He raced down the empty hallway, breathing hard from riding his bike so fast. He pushed on the classroom door too hard. It banged open—and every kid in Mr. Stein’s English class looked up from their quiz. So much for a quiet entrance.

  “It’s not like you to be late for a quiz, Ben,” his teacher whispered. “Is everything all right? You can take the quiz after school, okay?”

  Ben exhaled with relief. “Thanks, Mr. Stein,” he said, catching his breath. “I’m fine. Just late.”

  Maybe this day wouldn’t entirely suck after all.

  Ben sank into his seat to wait out the rest of the period. Noah shot him a sympathetic look from his spot across the room. Ben felt someone looking at him and turned to the kid on his right. It was the new guy, Jack, who’d moved to Gulfport last semester, right before the holiday break. Ben made eye contact and nodded. Jack nodded back. Ben had heard a rumor that Jack played shortstop at his old middle school—varsity, no less. Ben also knew that there was only one open spot for shortstop this year, which meant his biggest competition was going to be Jack.

  “Jack,” Mr. Stein called out from the front of the class. “Keep your eyes to yourself, please.”

  “Sorry,” Jack said. He turned back to his quiz, but not before scowling at Ben. Ben was taken aback—why was Jack mad at him? It wasn’t his fault Jack had been staring at him—all Ben had done was look up and nod.

  After sixth period, Ben pushed through a steady stream of kids in the hall and back to Mr. Stein’s classroom. He hefted his backpack, loaded with heavy textbooks, onto one shoulder. He felt a solid thwack as it hit someone, hard.

  Ben spun around to see who he’d clobbered with his books, an apology already spilling from his lips. It was Jack. He stood at his locker, rubbing his shoulder where Ben had hit him.

  “Sorry, Jack,” Ben said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  Jack squinted at Ben, his face unreadable. He opened his mouth as if to speak. Ben waited for him to say something, like It’s okay, or No worries. But Jack just stared at him, snapped his mouth shut, and turned back to his open locker without a word.

  “Uh . . . okay,” Ben muttered to himself. “That was awkward.” But he didn’t have time to wonder what Jack’s problem was—he had to make up his English quiz, which he totally hadn’t studied for.

  As he hustled toward Mr. Stein’s room, Noah appeared at his side.

  “What happened to you this morning?”

  “I overslept.”

  “Ben Landry never oversleeps,” Noah teased him. “Ben Landry is always on time for, like, everything.”

  “I stayed up late playing with Scout—the puppy—and Hero.”

  “If I had a puppy, I’d stay up late too,” Noah said, a hint of envy in his voice. “I’m so psyched to meet him.”

  “Well, you’ll have to get approval from Hero first,” Ben said. “He’s completely nuts about Scout. It’s like Scout is the puppy he never had or something.”

  “Really?” Noah said. “I wouldn’t have guessed Hero was the puppy type. Are we still on for training today?” he asked.

  “Uh . . .” Ben said.

  “Batting practice. Duh.”

  “Oh, right,” Ben replied. His mom had promised to come home and let Scout out of his cage on her lunch break, so he knew the puppy would be fine. “Yes, I’ll be there, but I have to take that quiz first.”

  “Why don’t I come over to meet Scout after we hit a few balls?”

  “Sure thing. You can help me with him too,” Ben said as he stepped into his English classroom.

  “Cool,” Noah said with a wave.

  “I’m really sorry about this morning,” Ben said to Mr. Stein as he sat down at a desk. “I’ve never missed a quiz before.”

  “I know,” the teacher said. “That’s why you’re getting a second chance. Not everyone would, but you’re not the kind of student to take advantage, Ben.” Mr. Stein came over and placed the quiz on Ben’s desk. Then he wandered back to the front of the classroom and started grading papers.

  Ben made his way down the page, yawning and struggling to remember the vocabulary words. Somehow he powered through it. He thanked Mr. Stein as he handed over the piece of paper, and crossed his fingers he wouldn’t fail.

  The halls were empty and quiet by the time he was done. Ben stepped through the school’s heavy front doors and found Hero
sitting on the stairs, where he waited for Ben every afternoon. Ben gave the dog a scratch on the head. “Come on, Hero.”

  Ben hopped on his bike and headed over to the ball field to meet Noah, Hero trotting by his side. Noah wasn’t there yet—at least there was one thing Ben hadn’t been late for today. He pulled his mitt from his backpack and started to warm up. He threw the ball deep into the outfield. Hero raced after it, picked it up, and ran it back to him. For the first time since he’d opened his eyes that morning, Ben started to relax.

  “Hi,” said a boy’s voice from behind the backstop.

  Ben turned and saw Jack. “Hi,” he said.

  He wasn’t at all sure how he felt about this new kid . . . he couldn’t tell if Jack was shy, or rude, or just kind of uncomfortable. But he knew he should try to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. It must be hard to move somewhere new, and Jack probably wanted to be shortstop as badly as Ben. It wasn’t Jack’s fault they both played the same position. They could be good sports about it.

  Hero ran back, the ball clamped firmly between his teeth, and dropped it at Ben’s feet. Ben scratched Hero behind the ears and picked up the ball.

  “That’s a cool dog,” Jack said, eyeing Hero intently. “What’s his name?”

  “Hero,” Ben said after a pause. Something felt off about the way Jack watched the dog.

  “You want me to pitch to you?” Jack asked Ben. “That seems like it’s the one thing your dog can’t do.”

  Ben hesitated. Jack was hot and cold—he’d been weird earlier in the day, but now he suddenly wanted to practice together? Ben felt a little prickle of suspicion, but he pushed the thought away. Plus, there was still no sign of Noah, and he really needed to practice.

  “Uh, okay. Sure.” Ben wiped the slobber off the ball and handed it to Jack. If he was a new kid at a new school, he’d want Jack to treat him with friendship and respect, Ben told himself.

  Jack jogged out to the mound and shook out his arm a little. Ben picked up his bat and took a couple of warm-up swings.

  “Ready?” Jack called out.

  Ben nodded. He raised the bat behind him and bent his knees, dropping into a hitting stance. The ball whizzed toward him. He swung and missed. The kid had a good arm. Hero grabbed the ball and ran it over to Jack.