Hero

by Jennifer Li Shotz

  Perillo wrapped her arm around Hero’s neck and pulled him close. “Hero taught me a lot that day, and he’s the reason I joined the K-9 unit. He’s the best there ever was. Right, buddy?” Hero dropped to the floor and rolled onto his back. She scratched his belly.

  Ben got goose bumps just thinking about Hero on the job—he wished he’d gotten a chance to see his dog save lives and catch bad guys. “He’s pretty special,” Ben said. “And it turns out he’s also kind of a softie.”

  “What do you mean?” Perillo asked. “Hero’s tough as nails.”

  “He’s both, I guess.” Ben laughed as he set Scout down on the ground. The puppy jumped onto Hero’s back and began gnawing on his black tail. “Hero is crazy for Scout here, but if you try to come between them, he’ll stop you. It’s like, I don’t know, he’s just super protective of Scout.”

  “Aw,” Perillo said, grinning. “Hero, I didn’t know you were the paternal type.” Hero’s tongue hung out of his mouth. He licked his chops and snapped his jaw shut. His ears perked up as he looked from Ben to Perillo and back.

  “It’s really sweet,” Ben said, “but there’s one problem. Scout is really scared all the time. And unless I can get him to calm down, my parents aren’t going to let me keep him. Hero is not going to like that very much.”

  “No,” Perillo said. “I imagine he wouldn’t.”

  “Hero and I have been trying to train Scout, but I think we need some help. My dad said you’re the best trainer on the force. I was hoping maybe you could give me some advice?”

  “Sure,” Perillo said. “I’d be happy to. Anything for Hero.” She gave the puppy a soothing rub behind the ears. Scout looked back at her with a combination of suspicion and fear in his eyes.

  “You’re a scared one, huh,” she said softly. “It’s okay, Scout.”

  Ben couldn’t believe it: Scout’s little body relaxed. He wiggled off Hero’s back and tentatively stuck out his nose, sniffing at the air around Perillo. After a moment, she held out her hand. Scout nudged it with his wet nose, then let the officer pet his head.

  “Wow,” Ben said. He crouched down next to them.

  “Dogs like me. What can I say?” Perillo shrugged. “Have you seen our new training course?”

  “No, can I?” Ben asked. “My dad said it’s pretty cool!”

  Behind the police station was, indeed, the coolest thing Ben had ever seen. It was somewhere between a massive obstacle course and a disaster scene, formed by a landscape of wrecked cars, slatted wooden pallets, giant concrete pipes to crawl through, and crumbling concrete slabs. At the far end of the course was a tall structure that looked like a tree house, with a ladder leading up to a landing.

  Ben watched as a beautiful caramel-and-white Akita ran across a rickety pallet propped up at an angle. Her trainer stood off to the side, watching the dog move carefully but quickly, skidding through a pipe, and hop out on the other side. The dog climbed up the rear bumper of an overturned car. She slid down the windshield, nosed her way around a pile of concrete blocks, and barked three times—her signal that she’d found something.

  “Good girl, Mocha!” her trainer called out. “Come!”

  “Wow . . .” Ben said.

  “Pretty cool, huh? We didn’t have this when Hero was in training,” Perillo said. “But it’s amazing what the dogs can do in there. It’s an agility course, but it’s built to simulate real disaster conditions. We need to prepare the dogs for whatever they might encounter out there in the field. There are even loudspeakers and bright lights we can use. It’s the best way to train them to tune out distractions, like thunder or lightning or gunfire. That way we teach the dogs to be totally focused on saving lives.”

  While Perillo talked, Hero gazed longingly at the training course and wagged his tail. Ben and Perillo laughed and shared a look.

  “Can Hero . . . ?” Ben asked with a nod toward the course.

  “Of course,” Perillo said with a wink. “Hero, go!” She gave the command.

  Hero took off like a shot. Ben was in awe as Hero made his way quickly to the top of an overturned police van, jumped onto a massive concrete block, then moved with incredible precision across a haphazard, wobbly stack of pallets. He turned a sharp corner and went over an A-frame ramp. All the while, Hero sniffed everything around him, processing the thousands of scents that drifted on the air and rested on every surface.

  All the other trainers stopped their work to watch Hero go.

  He stepped through a gravel pit and headed toward the ladder leading up to the tree house. Hero launched himself onto the bottom rung and shimmied up the ladder with ease.

  Ben gasped. He didn’t know dogs could climb ladders. It was amazing to watch. On the landing above, Hero suddenly stopped and sat down. That was what he’d been trained to do when he’d located a “find”—in this case, a dummy that had been placed there by a trainer. Everyone cheered for Hero.

  “He’s still the fastest dog around,” Perillo said. “What a champ!”

  Hero made his way back down and trotted over to Ben, Scout, and Perillo. He was barely even panting. Ben gave him a treat.

  “Good job, Hero!” he said.

  “He’s magic,” Perillo said, shaking her head in amazement. Scout bounded over to Hero like he wanted to play too. Perillo studied Scout. “I think the first thing Scout needs to do is build his confidence. What do you say, Scout? You wanna give it a try?”

  Scout blinked at her, then looked up at Ben.

  “Isn’t he a little young?” Ben asked.

  “He’s too little to climb up the cars or the ladder, but he can handle a lot of it,” Perillo said.

  Ben was nervous. Was Scout going to freak out? He walked Scout over to the edge of the course.

  “Scout, go!” Ben said. Scout whined and did a nervous little dance with his front paws. Hero sat by the sidelines, waiting patiently. Ben could tell that Scout wanted to do it. But he was afraid. “It’s okay, Scout. Go!”

  Scout put one paw on a concrete block.

  “Speak from here,” Perillo said to Ben, putting her hand on her stomach. “You’re not asking him; you’re telling him. Your tone needs to let him know you’re in charge.”

  Ben tried it again. “Scout, go!” he said, projecting his voice. He heard the difference right away—his tone was fuller and more authoritative.

  Scout stepped onto the rubble and made his way forward.

  “There you go,” Perillo said. “You spoke with conviction. And see—Scout heard it too. It’ll make him feel more secure to know you’re really in charge. You’re his pack leader.”

  Scout scurried up a ramp, picking up speed and wagging his tail. He stopped at the top and looked down at the ground, clearly excited by the new perspective on things—but maybe a little unsure of how to get down. He hesitated for a moment, then stuck one paw out. Scout was leaning down at a sharp angle, and he didn’t seem to like it very much. He quickly pulled his paw back up.

  “Good boy, Scout,” Ben said, trying to infuse his voice with positive—but firm—reinforcement. But Scout was stuck. He was too scared to move forward, and had no idea how to get back. The puppy started to shake and let out a sad, frightened howl. Hero bolted onto the course, clambered up the ramp, and stopped right behind Scout. Hero nudged at Scout’s rump, trying to get him to move forward, but Scout was paralyzed with fear. Hero nudged him again, harder this time, and showed Scout the route to get down. Nothing seemed to reassure the puppy.

  Finally, after a few minutes, Hero picked up Scout by the scruff—gently gripping the skin on the back of the puppy’s neck with his mouth, like a mother dog does to her babies. Scout went slack in Hero’s jaws. Hero carried him across the field of rubble and back to Ben and Perillo. He gently placed the puppy on the ground and licked him a few times. Scout’s ears hung low and his tail was between his legs. He looked miserable.

  Ben felt hopeless. “Is there anything I can do to help Scout?” he asked, trying not to sound too despe
rate.

  Perillo considered his question carefully. “He’s really nervous, for sure,” she said. “But don’t give up on him, Ben. He’s still young, and he’s only been with you for a little bit. You’ll just have to wait and see if a safe environment and regular training are enough to soothe his nerves.”

  “So what should I do?” Ben asked.

  “Keep working with him. Show him lots of love, but be the alpha dog too. Be consistent and positive, but assertive. Check in with me in a couple of weeks, and we’ll see how far he’s come.”

  “Thank you so much, Officer Perillo,” Ben said.

  Scout was just starting to relax again when a police siren roared to life in the nearby parking lot. Tires screeched as the car peeled out. Scout jumped up and scurried back toward the obstacle course. He wormed his way into a small space under a stack of pallets and hid in the darkness, shaking with fear.

  “Scout, no!” Ben called out. “Scout, come!” Scout stayed where he was, his ears flattened against his head and his eyes big and round. Ben was crushed. He looked at Perillo. She was shaking her head.

  “Good luck, Ben,” she said, sounding almost apologetic. “He’s a great pup, but he’s had a rough go of it.”

  10

  BEN, HERO, AND SCOUT HEADED OUT to the parking lot. It had taken Hero and Ben a while to coax Scout out from under the pallets, but the puppy had finally calmed down. Ben looped Hero’s leash around the bike rack while he unclipped Scout’s leash. He started to tuck Scout into the carrier strapped to the back of his bike.

  Just then, the engine of a police cruiser started up a few feet away. The car pulled out into the street, and the sound of its siren cut through the air like an explosion. Ben’s eardrums vibrated. Hero didn’t even flinch—he sat calmly next to Ben—but Scout’s whole body stiffened. Before Ben had time to react, the puppy had jumped out of the carrier, landed on the asphalt, and taken off. Scout moved so fast across the parking lot and toward the road that he was a blur. Hero, who was held back by his leash, barked frantically after Scout.

  “Scout, stop!” Ben yelled. “Scout, stay!”

  In the blink of an eye, Scout turned onto the sidewalk outside the station and was gone.

  “Hero, go!” Ben cried out, unclipping Hero’s leash from his harness. “You’re going to have to figure out where he went, okay?” he said. “Hero, find Scout.”

  Hero skimmed his nose across the sidewalk, his head moving rapidly back and forth as he followed Scout’s scent. He looked up for a second, turned back to Ben, then took off running down the street. Ben pedaled as fast as he could to keep up. Hero was in full tracking mode. His body moved in a perfect, beautiful stride, like an elegant machine.

  Ben wasn’t familiar with the area around the police station. Hero zigzagged through the neighborhood and led Ben to the beachside road that ran for miles along the Gulf of Mexico. Ben hardly noticed the endless stretch of white-sand beaches. Hero and Ben turned inland and headed down the quiet, residential streets, where porches wrapped around old mansions, and quite a few houses had tall columns out front. They skirted the airport and trudged along the sludgy banks of a bayou.

  Soon they were miles away. Ben began to doubt Hero. Surely Scout couldn’t have run this far? Finally, as the sky was starting to dim to a dull gray, Hero slowed his pace. They were on the outskirts of town, in a neighborhood Ben had never been to before. It was a desolate stretch—not quite residential, not quite rural. There were big patches of land between the houses, some with overgrown grass and tall weeds.

  No one was out walking. There were no kids playing in front yards. It was quiet and isolated. Ben couldn’t picture sweet, innocent Scout in a creepy neighborhood like this. It made him feel queasy just thinking about it.

  They turned a corner, and Hero started barking and picking up speed again. He bolted toward the last house on the block, sat down in the driveway, and waited for Ben to catch up. Huffing and puffing, Ben pulled up next to Hero and gave the dog a treat.

  He caught his breath and looked over the house. It was newish and simple, nothing fancy. One-story, redbrick, with a driveway running up the side. When Ben saw what was parked in that driveway, a weird feeling washed over him. It was a black SUV.

  For a split second, Ben couldn’t place the car—or put his finger on why it was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Then, suddenly, it clicked: It was the same truck he’d seen driving slowly by his house last week, when he was on the lawn with Noah. He recognized the dented bumper.

  A brown-and-white ball of movement barreled down the driveway and jumped up on Ben’s legs. Scout! The puppy barked and wagged his tail so hard it almost spun his tiny body in circles. Ben was flooded with relief. He leaned over to pick up the puppy, and Scout wiggled in his arms and licked his face.

  “I’m happy to see you too, Scout! You scared the heck out of me.” Ben looked down at Hero. “Nice work, Hero.” Hero just panted in response. He didn’t need thanks; he’d done exactly what he was trained to do.

  At the sound of a door slamming shut, Ben looked up at the house. A tall, thin man was making his way down the driveway. Every muscle in Hero’s body tensed as his protective instincts kicked in. Scout trembled in Ben’s arms and burrowed himself into Ben’s sweatshirt.

  As the man got closer, Ben realized he’d seen him before—it was the same guy he’d talked to at the car lot. The one who had complimented his dogs.

  The man stopped a few feet away.

  “I know you, kid,” the man said.

  Ben nodded but didn’t respond. The man looked Hero up and down, then locked his gaze on the puppy. “Scout, right?” His tone was different today. He didn’t sound as friendly as he had before.

  “Yeah, Scout,” Ben said. This guy gave him the creeps. “Uh, thanks, sir. We just came to get the puppy. We’ll get off your property now.”

  The man let out a hoarse laugh. “I’m no ‘sir.’ You can call me Mitch.” The man’s mouth moved into something resembling a smile. “What’s the rush?”

  Ben didn’t like the look in Mitch’s eye. It was cold—like his mouth and his eyes were feeling two totally different things.

  “You ever think of fighting these dogs?” Mitch asked, the fake smile still on his face.

  “Fighting them? What do you mean—” Ben stopped mid-sentence. Dogfighting. Ben shuddered. “No, sir. No way. Hero is a police dog. And Scout here is just a puppy.”

  The man nodded but said nothing. His eyes flashed up to Ben’s face. Ben held his gaze for as long as he could, finally looking away.

  “We’re gonna go,” Ben said firmly. “Hero, come.” Hero hopped up and stood by Ben’s side as he got on his bike.

  Without a word, Mitch turned and headed back into his house, slamming the screen door behind him. Ben exhaled and hustled the dogs away from the house as fast as he could.

  As he biked home, Ben’s mind raced, trying to process the long chase and the weird dude at the house. Mitch. Everything about that guy had made Ben feel uneasy—the things he said, the way he looked at Hero and Scout, the way he acted like Ben hardly even existed.

  By the time he pedaled up his driveway, Ben was exhausted, and he could see that Hero and Scout were wiped out from the long day too. Ben gave them extra water and food and put Scout in his crate, making sure the latch was secure. Hero stayed downstairs, curled up on the floor next to Scout’s crate. The two dogs, one big and one little, pressed against each other, separated only by the thin metal.

  Just the sight of his dogs flooded Ben with a deep sense of appreciation and love. Hero had really come through for them that day, tracking Scout so far away. And Scout had seemed so relieved when they finally found him.

  Scout was already sound asleep.

  Hero looked around the room, inspecting it one last time before going to sleep. He spotted Ben watching him.

  “Good night, buddy,” Ben said from the stairs. Hero exhaled sharply through his nose, almost like a sigh, and shut his
eyes.

  11

  “EVERYBODY UP,” COACH LEE CALLED OUT. “Let’s do some laps.”

  The boys ran in formation around the field. Ben didn’t look up as he passed the crowded bleachers, but he knew his parents and Erin were there with Hero and Scout, ready to cheer him on for varsity tryouts.

  Ben tried to focus on what he needed to accomplish. He needed to do everything right—there was no room for mistakes. He had to hit, field, and throw better than he ever had. He needed to make shortstop. Ben spotted Noah a few kids away. They gave each other an encouraging nod.

  Coach Lee split them up for batting warm-ups. The boys swung bats at invisible pitches, loosening up their arms. As Ben rotated his upper body, his arms and hands moving with perfect follow-through, his wrist rolling over at the end of his swing, he began to relax.

  “Landry,” Coach Lee called out. “You’re up first.”

  Tryouts flew by. Ben hit two doubles. He connected with a fastball and a curveball. He tried not to get too excited about how well he was doing—he just stayed focused. When all the boys did sprints, Ben was at the head of the pack. Going into the fielding exercises, he felt strong and in the zone. But he didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

  The coach shouted out the boys’ names and assigned them to various positions in the field. “Landry—shortstop!” Ben hustled over to his spot and surveyed the other players in the infield. Jack was at first base. Ben hadn’t seen him since the other day, when Jack had told him about his parents’ divorce. They caught each other’s eye. Ben nodded, but Jack turned away without responding. Ben still didn’t know what to make of the kid, but he couldn’t think about that now. The last thing Ben needed was to get distracted.

  The kids moved through a series of plays. Every fifteen minutes or so, Coach rotated the boys’ positions—everyone except Ben and Jack. As the boys warmed up, the scrimmage picked up speed and intensity. Ben felt good. He caught every ball fired at him. He threw with precision and speed. He was totally focused on the ball, the other players, and the sound of his own breathing. He felt himself playing almost . . . instinctually. Like his body and mind were in perfect sync. Somewhere on the edges of his awareness, he could hear his family cheering him on.