Hero

by Jennifer Li Shotz

  There was a pause between plays while Coach Lee talked to one of the other players. Ben spotted Noah in the outfield and gave him a quick wave. Then someone shouted his name from the infield: “Landry!” Ben turned just in time to see Jack’s arm unfurling in his direction, releasing a fastball. Ben’s mind and body worked at warp speed. His reflexes kicked in, and he held up his mitt while ducking as fast as he could.

  It wasn’t fast enough.

  The ball nailed him on his right collarbone, hard. The pain shot through his body. Ben doubled over and took short, sharp breaths, hoping he didn’t pass out right there in the field. He could feel Jack’s eyes on him. In the distance, Ben heard Hero barking angrily, and Noah yelling, “Hey!” Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Hero streaking around the chain-link fence and onto the field. He heard his dad yelling, “Hero, no!” But the dog was barking and growling viciously—he was trained to protect his handler at all costs—and he was heading straight for Jack. Jack cowered on first base, holding up his hands in front of him to ward off Hero.

  Ben straightened up as quickly as he could. He cringed at the throbbing in his shoulder. He could barely catch his breath.

  “Hero, no!” he called out weakly. But it was loud enough for Hero to hear, which was all that mattered. Hero practically froze just a few feet from Jack. Jack flinched.

  Ben’s dad ran out from the bleachers, calling out commands to Hero. He grabbed Hero’s leash. Ben’s dad caught his eye and mouthed the words You okay? to him. Ben nodded and gave his dad a thumbs-up with his good arm. With a worried look, his dad gave him a return thumbs-up and led Hero back to the benches.

  Coach Lee jogged over to Ben.

  “You okay, Landry?” Coach Lee asked in a worried tone.

  “I’m good, Coach.” Ben grimaced and rubbed his shoulder.

  “I didn’t see what happened, but I heard your dog. And the other guys said Jack fired a fastball at you. Is that right?” Coach Lee adjusted his baseball cap and gave Ben a serious look.

  Ben didn’t know what to say. His chest was killing him, and it sure seemed like Jack had tried to hurt him for no good reason. But he didn’t want to rat out another kid. Coach talked to the team all the time about the importance of sportsmanship and keeping their tempers under control. He always told the boys, “Respect your opponents, respect your teammates, respect yourself.”

  “I’ll take your silence as a yes.” Coach headed over to Jack and said a few stern words. Jack stomped off the field, casting a nasty look back at Ben as he went.

  Ben could see his family and the other parents talking to one another about what had just happened and pointing at him and Jack. The other players in the field were talking about it too.

  “All right, guys,” Coach Lee called out. “Let’s focus. Everyone on the field, come in. You’re up again.”

  The adrenaline shooting through Ben’s body began to subside. His shock and confusion faded, though his shoulder continued to throb. Somehow he was able to regain his focus. He hit a triple and a straight shot into center field, which the center fielder caught. But still, Ben knew he was hitting his best. When he went back out into the field, he landed every throw.

  An hour later, tryouts were over. Ben was exhausted but pumped. Whether he made first string or not, he knew he’d played his best. Despite Jack.

  “Landry,” Coach called out. Ben walked over to him. “Nice job today, Ben.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “You’re gonna do a great job at shortstop this year, kid.” Coach clapped Ben on the back. Ben tried not to wince from the pain in his collarbone. “Congratulations.”

  Ben grinned. “Really?”

  “Really. You worked hard for this. I can tell. Now get out of here and put some ice on that shoulder. I’m going to need you in top form for our first practice in two weeks.”

  Ben practically floated over to the dugout. He heard Coach’s words over and over in his head. You’re gonna do a great job at shortstop . . . congratulations. Ben was changing out of his cleats when Jack stormed by him in the dugout. His face was red.

  “If it weren’t for your dog, I would have made the team,” Jack said.

  Ben’s mouth hung open. Did Jack seriously think Hero was the problem here? He was the one who threw a fastball at Ben!

  Before Ben could think of a response, Jack strode off, still in his cleats. His mitt was tucked under his arm, and his fists hung clenched at his sides.

  12

  THE NEXT DAY AFTER SCHOOL, BEN spent the afternoon hauling junk out of the garage. He had a plan. A vision.

  It was Friday, tryouts were over, and he was all caught up on his homework, at last. Ben was looking forward to spending the weekend with his dogs and this . . . contraption.

  Ben stood back to admire his handiwork, hands resting on his hips. It wasn’t pretty, but it should work. He had built a training course for Hero—a homemade version of the one at the police station. He had seen the joy in Hero’s eyes when he was on the course, and it had occurred to Ben that maybe Hero missed his old life.

  Ben knew that the best police dogs have a drive that can’t be taught. They’re born to be trackers and rescuers. Ben didn’t want Hero to get bored by civilian life—Hero deserved to be happy, even if that meant turning their backyard into a ridiculous-looking doggie amusement park. He was sure that his parents would understand. . . .

  The first section of the course was a plastic tube from his sister’s waterslide. Hero would have to run through it. Next was an A-frame ramp made from two boards leaning against a stack of old file boxes from the garage. Then there was a pile of loose gravel that Ben had poured on the grass. From there, Hero would jump up onto a narrow bridge made out of a long, skinny piece of plywood and four overturned buckets. He would run across the beam and jump down onto a bouncy air mattress. Then he would have to wade through a kiddie pool full of water. After that, Ben would towel him off and give him a treat.

  Ben was also hoping that he and Hero could convince Scout to try the course. He was pushing Scout hard, he knew. But this could be just what Scout needed to overcome his nerves.

  Hero loved the training course. He shimmied right through the plastic tube, scrambled up the ramp and slid down the other side, and happily tromped through the gravel. He practically flew over the beam like a trained gymnast. He danced across the air mattress, bobbing and weaving as the surface moved underneath him, then flung himself into the water with a giant splash. When he was done, he ran back to the beginning, his tail wagging like crazy. Ben gave him a scratch behind the ears and a treat while he dried him off.

  Scout’s first trip through the homemade course, however, was a disaster. He wouldn’t set one paw into the tube. Hero had to go in after him and push him through to the other side. Scout climbed up the first half of the ramp, plopped onto his belly at the top, and rested his head on his paws. Hero had to nudge him up and over that too.

  When Scout got to the gravel, he put one paw down and instantly jumped backward, yelping. Ben squatted down and scratched Scout under the chin. Hero walked back and forth across the gravel pile, showing Scout that there was nothing to be afraid of.

  “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just rocks,” Ben said. He scooped up a few and let them pour slowly from his palm. The loose stones clattered back onto the pile. Scout stepped forward and sniffed at them. “Scout, go,” Ben said, using the hand signal. Scout took one tentative step as the rocks slipped and shifted beneath him. He took another step. Slowly he made his way forward, finally leaping up onto the wooden bridge. He pranced across it quickly, Hero running by his side.

  “Attaboy,” Ben encouraged him. “Scout, jump.” Gaining courage, Scout jumped, caught a little air, and landed on the air mattress. He immediately bounced onto his back, all four paws in the air. “Come on, Scout. Up!” Ben said, motioning with his hand. With some effort, Scout rolled back onto his stomach and got up. He made his way slowly and carefully across as Hero and Ben walked alongside. When
Scout got to the end of the mattress, he spied the water in the small plastic pool. Without hesitation, Scout jumped into it with a splash.

  “Yes!” Ben pumped both arms into the air in triumph. Scout hopped out of the pool and shook off the water, showering Ben and Hero with droplets. “Good job, Scout!” Ben said, toweling off the puppy and giving him a treat. Hero let out a few happy barks and lapped up some pool water. Ben was so proud of Scout that he picked him up and squeezed him in a hug. Scout licked Ben’s face and wagged his tail.

  The dogs took turns going through the course until it was starting to get dark. Ben decided it was time to implement stage two. He wanted to keep Hero’s training as real as possible, and it was pretty clear—after Scout’s reaction to the police sirens—that the puppy needed to work on keeping his cool under pressure. Ben had scavenged a scrap of sheet metal from the garage. He was going to hold it up in the air and shake it to make a really loud noise while the dogs ran the course.

  Ben bent over to pick up the metal from the ground. As he did, his phone fell out of his back pocket and landed on the grass. It flashed with six missed calls. All from Noah. Why had he called so many times? Something nagged at Ben—a funny feeling in the back of his brain that he’d forgotten something.

  Ben called Noah back.

  “Dude!” he said excitedly into the phone. “You’ll never believe what the dogs are do—”

  Noah cut him off. “Ben, where are you?” He was yelling. “I’ve been calling you for two hours.”

  “What are you talking ab—”

  “My mother’s surprise party? You were supposed to be here over an hour ago to let everyone in. Remember?” Noah’s voice was filled with anger.

  A wave of guilt and regret washed over Ben. He felt awful. “Noah, I’m so sorry—I totally forgot. I—”

  “Everyone was just standing on the front lawn when we pulled up with my mom. You were supposed to let them inside so they could set up the party. But nothing was ready! Seriously lame, Ben.”

  “Noah, I’m so sorry, dude—” Ben began, but Noah had already hung up on him.

  Ben put his face in his hands. It was like he couldn’t do anything right. Or he could do one thing right, but only if he messed up five other things he was supposed to be doing at the same time.

  “Hero! Scout! Come,” Ben called out. Both dogs ran over to him and stood by his side. “Sorry, guys, but I have to go. Scout, in your crate.” Ben moved Scout’s cage onto the back patio. It would be too cold for the puppy to sleep out there, but he’d be okay for a couple of hours. Ben closed the small metal door and made sure to secure the latch.

  Ben looked around and spotted a long rope looped around a tree in the backyard. When Hero had first come to live with them, Ben’s parents had tied him to the tree during the day so he wouldn’t wander over to Ben’s school on his own. They hadn’t used it in a while, but it was just what Ben needed right now. He tied the rope to Hero’s harness.

  “Keep Scout company, okay, Hero?” With a little grunt, Hero lay down near the crate. “I’ll be back soon, guys,” Ben said.

  13

  BEN HOPPED ON HIS BIKE AND headed down his driveway at top speed. He spotted a familiar person standing on the sidewalk outside his house and almost swerved into a tree. Jack.

  Ben skidded to a stop. He and Jack locked eyes for a second, then Jack took off running down the block.

  What was he doing at Ben’s house? Jack lived a good half mile away—there was no reason for him to be at Ben’s unless he was there on purpose. Ben’s chest was still sore from Jack’s fastball, and it wasn’t like Jack had made any effort to apologize. But Ben didn’t have time to wonder what he was up to. He had to get to Noah’s and apologize.

  He cursed himself all the way to Noah’s house. He ran inside. Surf music poured through the living room speakers, and the air smelled distinctly of coconut. Ben remembered that it was a beach-vacation theme party, which for some reason just made him feel worse. Noah and his dad had put so much thought into planning the night, and he had messed it all up.

  He waded through a crowd of dancing grown-ups, looking for Noah. He found him in the backyard, sitting on a deck chair and drinking a smoothie with a little paper umbrella in it.

  “Noah,” he said nervously. Noah turned around to look at him, then turned away.

  “Go away,” Noah said.

  “I’m so sorry, man. I really messed up.”

  “Yeah,” Noah said, still not looking at him. “You did.”

  Ben just stood there. He didn’t know what else to say. After a long, silent moment, he said, “I’m gonna go find your parents and apologize.” He turned to leave, but Noah spoke.

  “You know, Ben, I’m always helping you out when you need me. In the last week alone I cleaned up your dog’s mess with you and did your job when you were distracted. And you can’t even do this one thing.”

  Ben felt so bad it was almost like a physical pain. There was no excuse—it was purely selfish to focus on Hero and Scout and forget about the promise he had made to his best friend. But it made him sick to think that Noah would ever feel like he was a bad friend.

  “It’s not an excuse, Noah, but I’m just—I’m just kind of . . . I don’t know. Distracted. Right now, I mean—I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

  Noah sighed and finally looked at Ben. “You mean the dogs?”

  “Yeah, partly. And baseball. And . . . I don’t know. I just messed up. But it won’t happen again, okay?”

  Noah rolled his eyes at Ben. “You can bet that puppy it won’t.”

  It was late by the time Ben got home from the party. He’d hung around for a while, hoping Noah would talk to him some more, but he hadn’t. The night had pretty much sucked from beginning to end. Noah’s parents had forgiven him, but that hadn’t made Ben feel any better. He was just glad it was over and he was home again with his dogs. Ben headed around to the backyard to bring Scout in for the night.

  It took a second for Ben to process what he was seeing. The crate was in the exact same spot, but the door was wide open. And it was empty. He looked around the yard, but Scout wasn’t there. Hero was gone too.

  Ben ran into the house. His parents had just gotten home from the movies with Erin. His mom was putting Erin to bed, but his dad was sitting at the kitchen table. Something on his dad’s face told Ben he had been waiting for him.

  “Hey, Dad,” Ben said, trying not to seem anxious. He scanned the kitchen and living room for the dogs but didn’t see them. Maybe his dad had let them go upstairs.

  “Hey, son.” Dave’s gaze moved past Ben, as if he was looking for someone behind him. “No dogs?”

  Ben was gripped by fear. His dad hadn’t brought them inside. Both dogs were gone.

  His dad was staring at him, like he was waiting for Ben to say something.

  “No, they’re at Noah’s,” Ben said, exhaling. He couldn’t tell his dad the truth just yet—not until he knew where his dogs were. “You got my text that I was at Noah’s mom’s party, right?” Ben asked.

  “I did.”

  “Good. The party was crazy—there were, like, four hundred coconuts at their house,” Ben said, changing the subject so his dad wouldn’t have time to wonder why he had taken the dogs to a party . . . and left them there. Before his dad had a chance to respond, Ben forced himself to yawn. “Well, I’m beat. I’m just gonna go to bed.” He tried to move past his dad toward the stairs.

  “I know you’re tired, son, but let’s talk for a sec, okay?” His dad’s voice was firm. He gestured toward the seat next to him.

  Ben’s mouth went dry. He was in trouble for something, that much was clear. Normally the tone in his dad’s voice would have been enough to freak him out. But now all he cared about was finding Scout and Hero. Ben bit his lip and focused on remaining calm. The last thing he needed was for his dad to know both dogs were missing. If he couldn’t even keep them safe, there was no way his parents would let Ben keep them.

  “Lo
ok, Ben.” His dad sighed. “I don’t want to start sounding like a broken record, but we need to talk about what’s on your plate.”

  Ben nodded and squirmed a little in his chair. He forced himself to watch his dad’s lips so he could absorb his words. Otherwise, his mind would wander in a thousand different directions as he tried to figure out what could possibly have happened to the dogs.

  “Your mom and I thought you were doing better, but the school called me this afternoon. Seems you’ve been late almost every day for the last two weeks.”

  Ben cringed inside but tried not to let his panic show on his face.

  “You’re going to be thirteen in a few months,” his dad started. “We’ve talked about this. Your mom and I really believe it’s time for you to start acting with purpose. And we feel you’re ready for some real responsibility, like the dogs. But I don’t know—” His dad looked down and shook his head. “Maybe we let you take on too much all at once.”

  As if from a distance, Ben heard his dad say, “You’re grounded, son,” but it was the next words that sent a chill through him. “And the puppy has to go.”

  “No!” Ben shouted, before he could stop himself. His dad looked startled. “I mean—sorry, Dad, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just . . . upset. With myself,” he added quickly. “I know I need to do better. I know I can do better.” Suddenly he saw a way to buy himself some time, not to mention a little goodwill from his dad. “I mean, I knew I wasn’t keeping up my end of the deal. That’s why I took the dogs over to Noah’s house. So I could study.”

  His dad sat back in his chair and studied Ben’s face. He didn’t say anything for a moment. Ben started to sweat, worried that his dad knew he was lying. Normally he’d never lie to either of his parents. Not only had he been brought up to believe lying to them was wrong, but, generally speaking, when your dad was a cop, it was better to tell the truth and take your licks. But this was not a normal situation. Ben had lost track of not one dog but two. As soon as he made sure Hero and Scout were safe, he’d tell his dad the truth and apologize for the whole mess.