Lynda watched him push through the door, then darted into the laboratory. The veterinarian sat on her stool, addressing a mailing label. “Dr. Lopez, was the dog you're working on a white bull terrier?”
The veterinarian swiveled around. “Yes.”
“Its owner's here to pick up the body.”
Dr. Lopez glanced up at the ceiling. She never swore, but Lynda got the impression she wanted to. “I told him not to bother.”
“Well, he's in the waiting room with a box to carry the body home in.”
Sighing, Dr. Lopez pushed herself off the stool. After setting the box beside the microscope, Lynda turned and followed the veterinarian out of the lab and down the hall-way to the lobby.
“Mr. Van Tichelt,” Dr. Lopez began even before the door swung shut behind her. “I'm sorry you came all this way, but I have to keep your dog here.”
Van stood at the counter, puzzling over a yellow form. He looked up. “Why?”
“Because I'm not sure what killed him.”
Van's gaze never wavered. “But Rex had his shots—he couldn't have had rabies.”
Dr. Lopez leaned back against the counter. “I think your dog was killed by another animal. His body can help us determine what kind of creature it is, and to verify if it kills again. I'm sorry I didn't explain that over the phone, but I didn't realize you'd come all this way. Most owners prefer to let us dispose of the body.”
“I thought Rex was hit by a car.” Van sounded so lost, Lynda wanted to hug him again. She stepped up and put her hand on his shoulder.
The doctor sighed. “So did I, at first. If you want, I'll call you when we're done with him.”
Van's shoulders slumped beneath Lynda's grasp. “I took care of Rex for eight years, I'm not about to let him go out with the trash.”
Dr. Lopez nodded. “I'll call as soon as I can.”
Lynda squeezed Van's shoulder. “Still want that ride?”
A smile flitted across his face. “Thanks. I'm feeling my age this evening.”
* * * *
THE SUN hovered on the horizon by the time Lynda parked near Van's building, a limestone six flat. He thanked her again before opening the door and heading for his apartment. She waved and was about to drive away when she spotted Greg Ursek jogging up 57th Street.
Dying to tell someone about what she'd learned at the animal shelter, Lynda honked her horn. She climbed out of the car and ran to the corner. “Hey, Greg,” she called. “Re-member me? Lynda Malone from the Lab school?”
Greg stopped while a truck pulled in front of him, then trotted across the street toward her. A smile broke across his face. “Hey.”
“I found out about that dog Ellen saw on the Midway.”
Greg's smile collapsed. He glanced over his shoulder toward the setting sun and started walking faster. “Can't talk now. I'm late.”
Lynda fell in beside Greg, and walked with him up the steps to Van's building. “You know Van, the janitor who lives here? It was his dog, Rex. You must have seen him around, a big, white bull terrier with a torn ear?” Greg's hand froze halfway to the door knob. Encouraged by his reaction, Lynda went on, “At first, the vet at the animal shelter thought a car had hit him, but she changed her mind. Rex was mauled.”
Greg spun around, nearly knocking Lynda off the stairs. “What?”
The animal energy she'd sensed earlier seemed to shimmer around him. She licked her lips before answering. “The vet at the shelter found claw marks on him. And his back was broken in the wrong places for him to have been hit by a car.”
Lynda's jaw firmed with resolve. “I'm going to help Dr. Lopez—that's the vet I know—find the creature that killed him.”
Greg turned and pushed open the exterior door. “Stupid waste of time,” he mumbled.
She followed him into the entryway and paused between the brass mailboxes while he fumbled with his keys. “Why? We might be able to catch the animal before it kills another dog. I think saving a dog's life is worth a little time, don't you?”
“No.” Greg sounded grim, angry. He jammed a key in-to the lock hard enough to make the door shudder. “If people can't keep their animals off the street, they deserve whatever happens to them.”
Shoving open the door, he hesitated and looked back at her. The scowl on his face eased. “Lynda, I—”
“Gregory!” Someone roared from inside the building.
Greg threw himself through the door. “See you tomorrow,” he called and disappeared up the stairs.
Lynda stared after him. Would she see him tomorrow? After the heartless things he'd just said, she certainly hoped not.
Interlude
HE WAITED until the moon rose and the traffic stilled be-fore continuing his search. Picking up her scent near the playground, he followed it to her house. He remembered the cream brick building—he'd darted into an alley to escape the lights blazing from its windows.
What a fool he'd been. If only he'd braved the light and checked the steps. Her presence perfumed every stone.
He hid in the shadowed alley, thankful the moon had slipped behind a cloud. The windows stared blindly at him, their lights extinguished. She slept behind one of those windows. He imagined her curled under cotton and down, dark hair spilling across her moon-white pillow, and sighed.
She wasn't for him, she couldn't be. Yet he stayed in the alley, staring at the sleeping house until the stars behind it began to fade. Only then did he turn and follow the alley home.
Chapter 2
LYNDA TORE around the corner toward Mr. Pullman's biology class. All last year, she'd sat at the lab station closest to the blackboard, and she wanted to make sure she grabbed it again this year. She ran through the doorway and froze; the person she had been avoiding all day had beaten her to it. Greg Ursek had her seat.
Lynda wondered if she could get him to move. With the way he squinted at the board, she supposed not. His eyes seemed small behind his silver framed glasses, his nose pinched, as if he were trying not to breathe through it. Lips pressed together and turned down at the corners added to his uneasy expression. He looked up at her, and his lips relaxed into a smile.
For an instant, she considered taking the seat next to him. He had a great smile. Then reality hit—what was she thinking? The labs had been hard enough when she'd liked her partner. It was bad enough that Ellen was in a different biology section this year. Lynda knew she'd never get through Biology 2 if she had to share her lab station with the Incredible Dog-hating Boy.
Ignoring his welcoming smile, Lynda hurried past the first row of black tables. Mr. Pullman called the tables “lab stations.” They consisted of two tall stools facing a sink on one side and drawers down the other. The faint but persistent odor of formaldehyde hung over them all.
She'd just dropped her backpack on a table in the second row when Mr. Pullman, a bald, heavyset man, stepped into the room. “Ursek,” he called.
Lynda wondered what Greg had done to be in trouble already and tried to hide a smirk. It dissolved the instant Mr. Pullman turned his razor gaze on her and nodded to-ward his desk in front of the room. “You, too, Malone. I need to talk to both of you before class.”
Uncomfortably aware that she'd just become the center of everyone's attention, Lynda pushed past the tide of students entering the room until she stood by the corner of Mr. Pullman's gray metal desk. She tried not to notice the Neanderthal standing next to her and instead focused her attention on the biology teacher. His face cracked into a rare smile.
Uh, oh, Lynda thought.
“Ursek, I want you to partner up with Malone here. Her methodology is excellent, she takes extensive notes, and she's one of the few students up to doing most of the labs by herself.”
“By myself?” Lynda asked, not sure she'd heard correctly.
Greg stared at her shoulder as if afraid to meet her gaze. “Yeah. I have a doctor's note excusing me from the dissections, or any labs that use organic chemicals like formaldehyde. I have very sensitive si
nuses.”
Lynda knew a lot of kids hated doing the dissections, but she'd never heard of anyone going to such lengths to avoid them. Most of the really squeamish ones signed up for Chemistry. “How can he take biology without doing the labs?”
Mr. Pullman's customary scowl dropped back into place. “Ursek will still keep a lab book. He'll take his sketches from the text book and copy your observations. I'll have assignments for him to complete on the days you actually perform the dissections. No one gets a free ride in my class.” Mr. Pullman skewered Greg with one of his famous glares, and Lynda almost felt sorry for him.
But not sorry enough to agree to be his lab partner. “Mr. Pullman, I—”
“Thanks, Malone. I knew I could count on you.” He lifted his gaze and scanned the classroom. “All right, people, summer's over. Open your books to page 16.”
Lynda tried to ignore the curious stares that followed her back to her books. There must be some way to get out of being Greg's lab partner. Her gaze fell on Kevin Granger's shock of bright red hair. Kevin leaned over an open text book and apparently hadn't even noticed the show at Mr. Pullman's desk.
Last year's finalist in Abbott Laboratory's Young Scientists competition, Kevin had a reputation for being interested only in class work and Science Club. Lynda had heard a rumor that he'd gotten the highest score in school history on the Biology Achievement test last year. Kevin took great notes and, unlike Lynda, preferred to work alone.
Grabbing her backpack, Lynda hurried to the chair next to Greg and made herself smile at him. All she had to do, she realized, was convince Greg he wanted Kevin as his lab partner.
After class, Greg turned to Lynda. “About Monday evening, sorry I was such a jerk. I feel bad about Mr. Van Tichelt's dog, it's just that—”
Lynda shrugged. “Doesn't matter.”
Greg waited until Lynda stood and threw her backpack over her shoulder. He pushed back his chair and stood beside her. “Yes, it does. You wanted to talk about it, and I wouldn't listen. My only excuse is that Dad goes postal if I'm out after dark. He's European and takes this obedience thing very seriously.” An embarrassed grin flitted across his lips.
Lynda found herself smiling back. “Don't most parents? I've got lunch now, how about you?”
His face lit into a real smile, and Lynda felt her resolve waver. He might hate dogs—and be wimping out of dissections—but she did like his smile.
“I do, too,” he said, opening the door for her. “Want to eat together?”
Reminding herself that she only wanted to talk him into changing lab partners, Lynda nodded. “Sure. Let's eat on the lawn.” She led Greg down the locker-flanked hall-way to the exterior doors.
Lynda always ate outside on nice days, and the first day of school was a beauty. The sun reflected off the stone steps and ivy-covered walls, taking decades off the weathered facades. She stopped and took a deep breath. The late summer air smelled fresh after the musty hallway. The scent of hamburgers from the cafeteria blended with the fragrance of climbing roses and chrysanthemums.
Greg joined her on the stairs. “Smells great, doesn't it?” His stomach rumbled its agreement.
Trying not to giggle, Lynda pointed to a strip of grass and trees that was already dotted with students. “We'd better hurry. Sixth period starts in half an hour.”
Without waiting for a response, she bounded down the steps and selected a shady spot under an oak tree. Greg sat beside her and leaned against the trunk. They spent the next few minutes unpacking their lunches, then Lynda turned to him. “How do you like the Lab school, so far?”
“It's okay,” Greg answered through a mouthful of peanut butter and honey sandwich. “Pullman seems kind of tough, though. Is he as bad as they say?”
Lynda shook her head. “No. Mr. Pullman's a teddy bear.” She smiled when Greg barked a laugh. “Really. He has this terrible reputation, but he's okay as long as he thinks you're listening. He hates to be ignored.”
Greg swallowed and grinned. “I had a teacher like that in Santa Cruz. She slammed her pointer on the desks of kids who were daydreaming in class.”
Lynda started unwrapping her sandwich. “Your dad's a professor at U. C. Santa Cruz?” When Greg nodded, she asked, “Why'd he take his sabbatical in Chicago?”
“The University of Chicago library has original source materials he needs for this book he's writing. He brought Mom and me along for the ride.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” The question jumped out before Lynda could catch it. She wanted to kick herself. The idea was to talk Greg into asking for a different lab partner, not to get to know him better.
Greg popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “No,” he said after swallowing. “How about you?”
Nodding, Lynda took a bite of her sandwich and grimaced. Fat-free cheese, again. She set it down before answering. “I've got two brothers. Tom's older than me, and John's younger.”
Greg sighed. “I wish I had a brother.”
Her brothers were such a pain sometimes. Lynda found herself asking, “Why?” before she remembered she wasn't interested.
He seemed to consider her question. “It'd give me someone to talk to,” he finally said. “And someone else for my parents to worry about.”
Lynda knew what he meant. She'd always wondered what it would be like to have a sister. Someone pretty, like her mother. Someone who'd look good in the dresses her mother bought, but who'd still wear jeans and hang out on the basketball court with her big sister.
Greg reached into his sack and took out a second sandwich. It was really too bad about the labs, Lynda thought. Wasn't it just her luck? The most interesting boy she'd met in a while turned out to be an animal-hater with allergies.
Lynda reminded herself that if she didn't want to spend most of biology by herself, she'd better start persuading Greg to ask for a different lab partner. “I was thinking about what Mr. Pullman said. About the labs, I mean. I don't think—”
A high, penetrating voice cut her off. “Lynda! I've been looking all over for you.” Turning toward the building, Lynda saw Ellen waving to them from the top step. “I can't believe they put us in different biology classes. What am I going to do without you to copy from? Oh, hi Greg,” she said, as if just noticing him.
She glided down the steps and settled on the grass close to him. “Enjoying your first day at the Lab school?”
“It's okay,” Greg mumbled to his sandwich. “Lynda and I have biology together.”
Ellen turned her head toward Lynda and winked. “Lucky Lynda.”
A hot flush crept up Lynda's neck, but Greg just chewed.
Eyes narrowed, Ellen studied him a moment, then shrugged. Turning to Lynda, she said, “Did you find out what happened to that dog yesterday?”
“Yeah. Something attacked it.”
Ellen's eyes grew even larger. “Really? What?”
“Dr. Lopez thinks it was another animal. A big one. She sent a sample of hair she found in the dog's mouth to the Lincoln Park zoo to be identified.”
“What?” Greg's voice sounded tense, strained. “I mean, what difference does it make? The dog's still dead.”
Lynda glared at him. “Dr. Lopez thinks there's a dangerous animal loose that might someday attack a child. Knowing what to look for might help us catch it.”
Ellen looked from Lynda to Greg and changed the subject. “Greg, has Lynda talked you into coming to the try-outs yet?”
Greg swallowed the last bite of his second sandwich, then turned to Lynda. “What tryouts?”
She hurried to answer before Ellen could launch into a full scale sales pitch. “Miss Mendelson, the drama teacher, is holding auditions for the fall play Thursday and Friday after school. The plays take a lot of time and I don't think—”
“Nonsense,” Ellen broke in. “Drama club's a lot of fun and a great way to meet people. You should come, Greg.”
He locked his gaze on Lynda and turned on the full force of his smile. “
I will, if you'll be there.” He glanced at the thick black watch on his wrist. “Gotta go. See you to-morrow.”
Greg stood and ran up the stairs into the building. Lynda stared after him.
“If you'll be there,” Greg had said. To her, not to Ellen. The tingly feeling came back and was still humming in her stomach when the bell rang five minutes later.
Forcing Greg from her mind, Lynda said good-bye to Ellen, threw the rest of her sandwich into the trash, and ran for her locker. She didn't think about biology until class the next day, and then it was too late to switch lab stations. Kevin had transferred to a college level course, and everyone else had a partner. Lynda was stuck with Greg.
Interlude
MOONLIGHT FLOWED through the tree branches and shimmered past her window. Approaching its first quarter, the moon danced overhead and urged him to abandon the alley and explore the wonders of his new home. He followed the call joyfully, and lost track of time until the coming dawn summoned him home.
Birds shifted in their nests. Mice returned to their holes. A faint, distant ringing reminded him that the streets would soon fill with cars and people. The scent of brewing coffee and frying bacon confirmed it.
The knowledge of his dwindling time spurred him to a run. Picking up speed, he lumbered down the deserted Mid-way and raced through the University of Chicago campus. Three blocks to go. Two. One. Home. He flew behind the building, but the sun's first rays touched the rooftops before he reached the back steps. Taking the stairs two at a time, he hit the second floor landing as the back door opened.
“You're late!” his father growled.
Grabbing his son by the scruff of the neck, he hauled him into the apartment.
Chapter 3
“BREAKFAST IS ready!”
Even in her sleep, Lynda recognized her mother's voice. Without waking, she snuggled into the comforter and pulled a pillow over her head.
The seductive smell of frying bacon crept under the down and tickled her nose. Lynda sighed and rolled over. The radio clicked on. “A good Thursday morning to you. In the top story today—”
Under a Bear Moon Page 2
