Chestnut

by Jennifer Li Shotz

  “Would you like being cooped up all day?” Meg snapped, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice.

  Colton held out a hand, palm first, to make peace. “It’s okay, Meg. I get it—I’m not trying to tell you he’s a bad dog.”

  She took a breath and reminded herself that this wasn’t Colton’s fault. He was just trying to help. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes and waited until her emotions calmed down. “All I’m saying is that I’m sure Chestnut is fine,” she said.

  Colton shrugged, letting it go, and grabbed the first aid kit. “Come here, boy,” he said, clucking his tongue at Chestnut. With Meg there, Chestnut was totally comfortable with him. The dog trotted over and sat down next to Colton, then held up his injured paw to be examined. Colton removed the bandage and looked closely at the wound. “It’s healing up really well,” he said. He applied some more salve and wrapped Chestnut’s foot in a new bandage, then held out his nose for a kiss, which Chestnut happily provided.

  Chestnut jumped up and pranced around the inside of the shed, zigzagging and bobbing his head in a happy dance. Then he ran back to them, his whole rump swaying as he wagged his tail in wide swoops. He gave Colton one more lick on the nose, then dropped to the ground. He rolled over onto his back and jabbed his paws in the air, ready for another belly rub. Meg grinned, scratching the dog’s belly.

  Wiping his face on his sleeve, Colton laughed at the dog’s antics. “I think he’s good as new.”

  “Let’s get him outside,” Meg said. She was, as always, so grateful for her friend’s good nature.

  They set off into the surrounding woods, Chestnut walking between them. The Plott hound looked up at Meg, and she could have sworn he was smiling again.

  “I’m happy to be out with you, too,” she said, patting Chestnut on the head.

  As they walked, Chestnut’s whole demeanor transformed, as it had the night before. He stepped out ahead of them, and his head dropped and hovered over the ground. His muscles flexed and his tail went up.

  “Look at that,” Colton said, eyeing the dog thoughtfully. “He’s tracking.”

  “That’s what happened last night, too,” Meg said. “And you won’t believe what he did next.” She pulled a pinecone from her jacket pocket and called to the dog. He snapped back to her side. When she stopped walking, he did too. She held out the pinecone for Chestnut to sniff. When the dog was done, he watched Meg carefully, waiting for her command.

  “Chestnut, go find it!” Meg said. The pup shot off through the trees and disappeared from view.

  Colton’s mouth hung open, and Meg laughed at her friend’s surprised expression.

  “He’s kind of awesome, right?” she said.

  “Kind of?” Colton shook his head. “He’s amazing.”

  “I think you were right about one thing, Colt—somebody abandoned Chestnut. He knows how to do so many things. And the fact that he can find these pinecones is huge.” Meg told Colton about the lady who wanted hundreds of ornaments. “If that order really happens, Chestnut is my only shot at getting it done.”

  Colton nodded, and a smile spread across his face. “I mean, it must have been awful for Chestnut to be dumped outside and left to fend for himself. But it’s really cool that you found him.” Colton looked at Meg, and for the first time, she saw in his face that he understood how she felt about Chestnut. “He’s got some skills, Meg. That’ll make it easier to get your mom and dad to let you keep him. If he’s trained, I mean.”

  Just then, Chestnut came bounding out of the woods toward them. He stopped at their feet with a pinecone tucked snugly in his mouth. “Drop it,” Colton said, pointing at the ground. Chestnut gently laid it on the ground, and Colton bent to pick it up. He studied the pinecone in his hand as if it held a clue to the mystery of Chestnut’s life. He looked at the panting dog, who was patiently waiting for praise, a treat, or his next command. Colton gave him all three.

  “He’s a really good dog, Meg,” he said, as Chestnut scrambled back into the woods in search of the next pinecone.

  “I know he is,” Meg said proudly.

  They were quiet as they waited for Chestnut to return. When he dropped a new pinecone at their feet, she scratched him behind the ears. “Who’s a good dog? Huh?” she asked, pursing her lips at him. “Is Chestnut a good dog?”

  Chestnut thumped his tail on the ground in agreement and let out a happy snort. Meg and Colton laughed.

  When Chestnut had cleared their immediate area of loose pinecones, he tromped farther through the trees in search of his quarry. While he was gone, Meg wandered a few yards away to sit on a tree stump. A few moments later, Chestnut returned with his most recent discovery, but when he spotted Colton—and not Meg—he froze. He dropped the pinecone and let out a sharp and frightened bark.

  “What is it?” Colton asked. Chestnut whimpered in response, then spun around in a circle, anxiously scanning the area until he spotted Meg. He raced over to her and stood up on his hind legs, pawing at her and whimpering.

  “Chestnut!” Meg said, alarmed. “What’s the matter?” She wrapped her arms around him and tried to soothe the shaking dog. Meg looked up at Colton, who had a strange look on his face. “Do you think he—” She didn’t even want to finish the question, because she already knew the answer.

  Colton nodded, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “Yeah. He was upset because he didn’t see you right away. He thought you were gone.”

  They were quiet for a moment, both thinking about what that meant. Chestnut, reassured that Meg wasn’t going anywhere, sat down in front of her and waited for his next command. Meg held out the pinecone in her pocket and told him to find another one. The dog took off into the woods.

  Meg watched him go, then felt Colton’s eyes on her. She turned to him, and the friends shared a knowing look. They didn’t have to tell each other how they felt, because they both understood. Chestnut needed help.

  Meg forced herself to smile. “It just means that we’ve already bonded,” she said, her tone sounding more optimistic than she felt.

  “You definitely have,” Colton said, trying to be supportive. “But he was really anxious. That’s not good, Meg. I mean, what happens when you have to go to school? Is he going to tear apart your house looking for you?”

  Meg looked at the ground. She didn’t know the answer. “Maybe he just needs time,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Colton or herself of that. “He’s been through a lot and he still manages to be the sweetest dog I’ve ever met. He’ll be okay.” She locked eyes with Colton again. “He has to be okay, Colt.”

  She ignored the doubtful expression on her best friend’s face. She was too tired to worry about that just now.

  Chestnut returned, and they continued to send him out on pinecone missions. After a while, the dog seemed to get bored with the game.

  “Let’s change it up a little.” Colton walked a hundred feet or so into the woods, where he was out of sight. When he came back, Meg noticed that he wasn’t wearing his coat. He had hidden it behind a tree.

  “Aren’t you cold?” She laughed.

  Colton shivered. “Yup. So he’d better find it fast.” He held out his hand for Chestnut to sniff. “Go find it!” Colton commanded, and the dog was gone in an instant.

  Meg immediately started counting. “One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi . . .”

  Exactly twenty-seven Mississippis later, Chestnut bounded back to them, dragging Colton’s jacket—which was now covered in leaves and dirt—on the ground.

  “Nice!” Colton said, grabbing the coat and putting it on without even brushing it off. “I wasn’t going to make it much longer, so thanks for doing that so fast, man.” He gave Chestnut a treat and scratched him under the chin.

  “Under thirty seconds!” Meg pulled off her new purple jacket. “I want to try.”

  “That was way too easy. Make it harder for him,” Colton said. “See if you can make it take a full minute.”

  Meg looke
d around, deciding which direction would be best. She loved the idea of challenging Chestnut, and she thought it would be an opportunity to prove Colton wrong about the dog’s anxiety, too. She knew Chestnut was a good boy. He’d never be destructive just because he was worried about her being gone. “Okay,” she said, grinning. “Keep him busy for a minute so he doesn’t miss me.”

  She slipped between the trees and tiptoed down into a narrow creek bed. She jumped over the snowy dip in the center and found a fallen log on the other bank. She hopped over it and saw that it was partly hollow on the far side. Perfect. Meg tucked her new coat into the shell of the tree, then turned and ran back to the clearing, where Colton was wrestling with Chestnut. Colton was laughing, and the dog barked happily.

  When Chestnut saw Meg, he broke away from Colton and trotted over to her playfully.

  “Let’s time this one the official way.” Colton pulled out his phone and held his thumb over the timer. He nodded at Meg that he was ready. She held her hand under Chestnut’s nose. He immediately calmed down, sat attentively, and sniffed at her knuckles. “Go find it, boy,” she said, pointing toward the trees so he knew to go.

  Chestnut hurried off, his nose pressed to the ground as he followed her scent. Colton started the timer.

  “This time it’ll be hard—it’s going to take him a little bit.” She looked sideways at her friend. Colton was watching the trees where Chestnut had disappeared. “And when he comes back and doesn’t see me, he’s going to be totally fine—watch.”

  Colton’s head snapped around to look at her. “Are you going to—”

  Meg didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence. She snuck off into the woods, in the opposite direction from Chestnut, and ducked behind a large snow-covered tree stump. She waited, peering around the side so she could watch what Chestnut would do.

  After a moment, Chestnut returned with her coat in his mouth, galloping cheerfully back to Colton. But when the dog saw that Meg wasn’t there, he began to panic. His eyes grew wide and he swung his head from side to side, looking for her.

  “Go find Meg, boy,” Colton said. “Go on!”

  Chestnut still gripped her coat by the sleeve. As the dog scurried around searching for Meg, the coat dragged along the snowy, uneven ground. Even from where she hid, Meg could hear a low growl forming in the back of Chestnut’s throat. A little feeling of guilt began to gnaw at her. She hated seeing him this upset. The longer it took for Chestnut to find her, the more and more anxious he grew. Meg’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched him begin to shake with stress.

  She couldn’t deny it any longer. Colton was right. When Meg was out of his sight, Chestnut transformed into a different dog—a panicked creature that had once been abandoned and lived in fear that it would happen again. She couldn’t bear to watch him suffer any longer.

  Just as Meg was about to stand up and call him over, Chestnut turned in her direction. His nose twitched, his ears went up, and his eyes locked on the snowy mound that hid her from view. As he took off in her direction, the coat snagged on a low branch. In his desperation to get to Meg, Chestnut yanked hard on the coat. It broke loose, and a second later he screeched to a halt at Meg’s side, dropped the coat on the ground, and—his tail tucked between his legs—whimpered and whined and climbed right into her lap. He was panting from exertion and fear.

  “Oh, Chestnut, I’m sorry.” Meg fought a lump in her throat. No one had ever needed her like this before, and it was a little overwhelming. “You’re such a good boy.” She held his face in both hands and looked into his sad eyes. She ran her thumbs along his face and kissed him on the snout, then gave him a couple soft pats on the side to show him she was happy to see him.

  Chestnut raised one paw and placed it firmly over her arm, as if to say she had to stay right where she was. For good.

  Meg shivered in the cold. She reached out her free arm to grab her coat from the ground. When she went to ease her arm through the sleeve, she gasped in horror.

  There was a gaping hole right through the sleeve of her new, expensive coat.

  Tears sprang to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Meg began to panic. What would she tell her parents? She could never hide this from them—her mom would notice the damage right away.

  Meg freed her other arm from under Chestnut’s paw and buried her face in her hands. Why couldn’t she do anything right anymore?

  Meg was breathing in a fast, shallow rhythm. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply to try to calm herself. But nothing could chase away the thought that was playing on repeat in her head: not only was her new coat destroyed, but she also had to get home and prepare to make hundreds more ornaments. A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over her.

  Being responsible was a lot harder than she’d expected.

  ★ Chapter 11 ★

  * * *

  * * *

  When Meg arrived home everyone was busy in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. Her dad stood at the stove, wearing his silly “Kiss the Cook” apron and keeping an eye on burgers that smelled like heaven. Her mom was chopping vegetables for a salad, while Sarah poured drinks. Ben was setting the table.

  “Just in time,” her mom said when Meg came through the mudroom door. “Colton came looking for you here. Did you find each other—”

  Meg tried to cover the hole in her coat with her hand, but it was too late. Her mom’s gaze flicked to it right away, then up to Meg’s face. Meg watched as her mom’s expression went flat. It was the look she and her siblings feared the most—when their mom was too upset to even react.

  Her mom shook her head so slightly that no one else noticed. We’ll talk about this later, she mouthed to Meg, who nodded her understanding and swallowed hard. She hung up her coat and slid off her boots, but she’d suddenly lost her appetite.

  Her face hot with shame, Meg went to the sink and washed her hands. There was a pit in her stomach the size and shape of the hole in her coat sleeve. She could see the price tag dangling from the jacket when she first spotted it in the mall—how many Christmas trees did her parents have to sell to make that much? How long had they stashed away a few dollars here or there to buy it for her?

  Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly feel any worse, Meg was struck by a terrible thought. What if her mom figured out that a dog had ripped her jacket? Would she lose any shot she had of convincing her parents to let her keep Chestnut? This would all be so much easier if she didn’t have to keep Chestnut a secret.

  Meg volunteered to get the ketchup and mustard from the fridge, which she took as an opportunity to wipe away the tears that filled her eyes. By the time they sat down around the dinner table, Meg was filled to the brim with anxiety, leaving no room for her dad’s burgers. Her mind whirring with thoughts of how she would explain the ripped coat, Meg heard her family talking as if from afar.

  “How’s the physics studying going, Sarah?” her dad asked as he squirted ketchup onto his bun.

  Sarah sighed. “It’s okay, but I’m a little worried about the short-answer part.”

  Their dad nodded, but Ben scoffed.

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Ben said, rolling his eyes and taking a ridiculously large bite of salad. Sarah was excellent at science, and she’d never gotten less than a B+ on any test. “The bigger news,” Ben went on, “is that basketball tryouts are next week. There are a bunch of new freshmen, so I might have to fight for my spot this year.”

  It was Sarah’s turn to roll her eyes. Ben might not have been great at physics, but he was the high scorer on the varsity basketball team. “You’re the team captain,” Sarah said between bites of her burger. “You know that, right?”

  “You never know,” Ben said, failing to keep a straight face. “They might be so good they kick me off the team.”

  Meg’s dad gave Ben a playful whack on the shoulder.

  “And you, Megs,” her dad said. “How is school going for you?”

  “Why don’t you like dogs,
Daddy?” Meg blurted, changing the subject.

  The room went quiet. Her dad cleared his throat.

  “Don’t ask, Micro,” Ben said, breaking the awkward silence. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

  But Meg looked from her dad to her mom. “Can we please get one? I’ll do all the work. I’ll feed him and take him on walks. And if you need me to earn money to afford him, I can, I promise.”

  A muscle tightened in her dad’s jaw. “No. And that’s a firm no.”

  Meg’s face went hot with anger. Her dad had dismissed her without even giving her a reason. He was treating her like the baby once again.

  After a moment, her dad, Ben, and Sarah picked up their chatter about sports and school, friends and business. Meanwhile, Meg and her mom ate without speaking. Meg felt even more terrible, and her mom’s silence was nearly too much to bear. She picked at her burger, the greasy meat sitting heavily in her stomach.

  After they had cleaned up the kitchen, her dad went upstairs to take a shower, Sarah went to her room to study, and Ben left to play video games with his friends. Meg found herself alone with her mom as her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t want to have the talk she knew was coming, but at the same time she wanted to get it over with. She couldn’t take the dread anymore.

  Her mom let out a long, tired sigh. “Are you going to tell me what happened to your coat?” she asked, sitting down heavily on the couch.

  “I’m so sorry—” Meg started, searching for the right words. “I . . . I got it caught on the fence. I . . . I shouldn’t have climbed over it. But I’ll fix it . . . I promise.” She sat down beside her mom. “I really am so sorry.” The lie felt like a lump of stone in her mouth, and Meg almost spilled the truth right then and there. But Chestnut’s face passed through her mind and she pushed aside her guilt. She looked down at her lap and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the tongue-lashing she knew was coming—and that she deserved.

  To Meg’s surprise, her mom was quiet. “I know, Meggie,” she finally said, her voice more exhausted than exasperated. She didn’t say anything else for a long moment, and it dawned on Meg that her mom was upset about more than the coat. With a hot jolt of guilt, Meg realized that she’d been so distracted by Chestnut that she’d forgotten how many concerns her family had about the farm. The coat was the least of their problems.