by Joan Bauer
“Yes, ma’am.”
She grinned. “That got my heart going. God knows I need it. Get my wheelchair, Leona. I need to see the children.”
Leona brought it over and helped Mrs. Pittman into the chair.
“You want a blanket or something?” I asked.
“Absolutely not.”
Leona wheeled her outside, down the lawn to the lake. All the ducks looked up and started swimming toward her.
She raised her hands. “Children. Receive your queen!”
The ducks quacked and waddled right up to her. She tossed bread chunks at them. “I’ve missed you,” she said. Her face was beaming. One little duck quacked very loud. “Yes, I know. I know,” Mrs. Pittman said.
“We should go back in,” Leona grumbled.
“Not yet. Wheel me to the edge.”
“Oh, Mrs. P!”
“Leona . . .”
Leona wheeled her closer, not understanding, but I knew. I walked over to the wheelchair. “Do you see her, Mrs. Pittman? Do you see Bessie?”
And it was like a movie moment when all the animals were still and there was no wind and the lake shone like a diamond. Mrs. Pittman pointed to a small ripple in the middle of the lake.
“There she is!”
I looked.
“She’s gone deep, but she’s there.” Mrs. Pittman touched my arm. “Sugar Mae Cole, I give you the ability to see monsters in the deep and to not be afraid when they surface.”
x x x
I put the fifteen dollars from Mrs. Pittman in my suitcase. I had exactly two hundred and thirty-seven dollars in this case. I’m an excellent saver. I ran my hand over the money, closed the case and headed downstairs.
I handed it to Reba. “Here. You can have it.”
She took my hand. “I appreciate that, but you keep your money.”
“I’m part of this family. I can help!”
Reba sat down on the couch that she’d re-covered herself with flowered fabric. “Sugar, this is the sweetest thing, but nothing within me could ever take your money.”
“But, Reba—”
“We’re going to be all right.” She stood up and squared her shoulders like Southern women do. “I’ll figure things out. Don’t you worry.”
I almost believed her.
A note was on my pillow that night.
Dear Sugar,
Your kindness in offering me your hard-earned money so blessed my heart. I’ve spent the rest of the day thinking about all the riches I have and topping that list is you. We’re going to find the best way through this. I promise you that.
Sleep sweet, my girl.
With love and thanks,
Reba
I pulled down my window shade and crawled into bed.
Where in the world could we find a new place to live in two weeks?
x x x
I had a long night. I kept getting out of bed and walking through the house, remembering when we moved here after Reba and Mr. Leeland got divorced the first time. I was in second grade, and King Cole and Reba scraped together all they had and bought this house together. We were so proud to have our own little place. We painted the front door emerald green. It wasn’t the best paint job, but I remember going through that door and feeling my life was fresh and new and all the shadows from Mr. Leeland’s gambling were behind us. King Cole and I painted the wooden fence white and we fixed the cement steps. Reba and I planted peonies in the garden, and she repaired the rips in the screen door with clear nail polish. Mr. Leeland lived with us a few times, but he never stayed for long. He only cared if there was food and beer in the refrigerator, but me, Reba, and King Cole took care of this house with everything we had.
How could we be losing it?
But Reba always told me, things look better in the morning.
Morning came eventually. The sun was shining, dew drops glistened on the windows.
Something to be thankful for.
I had to write.
Dear God,
Thank you for sending the sun and the dew this morning. I needed that. A pot of money on the front porch wouldn’t hurt either.
Ha Ha.
I hope all is well with you.
Yours very truly,
Sugar Mae Cole
5
I WAS WAITING for Reba in the parking lot of Real World Food. I’d just as soon be home, but Reba said tough luck, wait. I had a science experiment that Marna and I were supposed to be doing. We were going to make water glow by breaking open a yellow highlighter pen and removing the felt. There were some other steps, too, but we had failed the first one. Marna broke open the pen and got yellow dye on both our shirts. She said her mother was going to kill her and this was not a hypothesis. Reba said, “Well, yellow is your favorite color.”
I didn’t want to think about glowing water right now. I put down my green bag and sat on the bench.
“I don’t want to hear any more lip from you!” a big man shouted to a girl a little younger than me. She was holding something in her arms wrapped in a blanket. A baby, I guess.
“But, Daddy!” she said, crying.
“I haven’t got time for this!”
“But he needs me!” she shouted.
“Get in the car, Jenny!” he shouted and walked toward a big SUV. “Did you hear me?”
Everybody heard you, mister.
The girl Jenny was crying and looking around, desperate. She ran over to me.
“You like puppies, right?”
“What?”
She pulled down the blanket and what she was holding wasn’t a baby, it was a little brown-and-white dog.
“You want him, right?”
“I can’t have a dog.”
“If you don’t take him, my dad’s taking him to the pound and they’ll probably kill him.”
The dog buried his nose in the blanket.
She put the dog in my arms. She was crying now. “My dad kicks him when he barks, so he’s kind of nervous, but he’s a good boy. Really.” She put him in my arms. I felt him shake a little.
“Your dad kicks him?”
She looked down and nodded. “He’s quiet, too. His name is Shush. Cute, huh? So, you take care of him and when he’s older you tell him that Jenny always loved him and I’m sorry for all that happened.” She was all-out crying now.
I held the puppy tight. I didn’t think about how I would feed him or any of that. “I will,” I told her. The girl ran off and got into an SUV. I held him close. “Nobody’s going to kick you anymore.” He nuzzled my hand. “You’re going to have to do this exact thing to Reba’s hand when she gets here. You’re going to have to be the cutest dog in America.”
The puppy whined.
“What a sweet puppy,” a woman said. “What’s his name?”
“Uh . . . Shush. . . .”
He wiggled as far under the blanket as he could.
She patted the blanket. “He’s a shy little thing.” Just then a car horn blasted and the dog jumped up. “Whoa,” I said, gathering him back in the blanket. “It’s okay.” Actually, it wasn’t close to okay. Reba was going to kill me, but I didn’t think mentioning that to the dog right now would get us anywhere. Me, I like to know what’s what, so I opened the blanket just a bit and said, “That noise you heard was a horn.”
“I want the chocolate cereal, Mommy! I want it! I want it!” A small child threw herself in front of the bench where I was sitting. The dog shook and the kid screamed. The girl’s mother dragged her to the car.
The puppy was struggling to get free. I whispered, “That last noise you heard. That wasn’t a horn—that was a brat.”
I looked up to see Reba standing there.
“Who are you holding th
at dog for?”
“Well, the thing is . . .”
“Perhaps the better question is, what are you doing with a dog?”
I tried to explain. “I didn’t know what to do, Reba. It happened so fast.”
“Well, I know what to do.” She took out her pink phone, pushed some buttons. “What’s the closest animal shelter near Round Lake?”
I uncovered the dog so Reba could see all his adorableness. She turned away. “Could you connect me, please?”
Earlier in the day, I hadn’t once thought how good it would feel to hold a puppy.
Reba waited, and waited, and waited some more, then snapped her pink phone shut. “They’re closed.”
Good.
The puppy put his paw on my hand and closed his eyes. It would be good if you could do that to Reba.
“His name is Shush and he’s real quiet,” I mentioned. “You want to hold him?”
She backed off. “I do not.”
I cocked my head and the dog did, too.
“I left you alone for one minute, miss!”
“It was more like fifteen.”
“Lord, give me strength.”
We could both use some of that. I laid the puppy gently in Reba’s arms. He put his little paw on her shoulder, put his head on her chest, and closed his eyes.
“I’m not looking at him, Sugar.” She stared over at the bottle-recycling machine.
“He’s like a baby,” I mentioned.
She stood there for a long time. I picked up the two bags of groceries. The puppy made a tiny noise, and a smile started on Reba’s face.
“I am not smiling,” she said.
“Yes you are.” I grinned. Grins were catching.
Shush made another noise, and Reba laughed despite herself. I knew I could keep him at least overnight. If something can get Reba laughing, she’s inclined to hold on to it. That’s one of the reasons she still loves Mr. Leeland.
“We cannot afford a dog,” she said.
“I know.” I looked across the shopping center and saw the sign for Pet Universe. I took Shush in the blanket. “I’ll be right back.”
“Do not use your hard-earned money on—”
“I won’t. I promise.” I walked to Pet Universe. “I’ve been trained,” I told Shush. “Watch this.”
x x x
Sell it to me.
I walked up to a man who was putting dog food on a shelf.
“Excuse me, sir, but I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
“Talk.”
“Do you know what kind of food a puppy eats?”
He pointed to a shelf of bags that said FOR PUPPIES.
“Thanks.” Shush put his paw on my shoulder and was sniffing the air. “Are you the manager of this store, sir?”
“That’s Jim, in the back.”
Jim in the back, I hope you’ve got more heart than this guy.
“Thank you.” I walked back to Jim. “You must love dogs a lot to have this store,” I said.
“I love dogs,” Jim said. “I have three of my own.”
“I have one.”
“It’s a good thing for a young person.”
I took most of the blanket off Shush. “Do you see this puppy, sir?” I figured he did. “This puppy is going to be one of those helper dogs that goes to hospitals and shelters and makes people feel better.”
Jim in the back scratched Shush’s head. “Good for you.”
“Yessir. And I was just given this dog, but I don’t have any money for food, but I promise you, I am going to care for this puppy like it’s my baby brother.” I gulped.
Jim looked at me like I was crazy. Jim, you don’t know the half of it.
“I was wondering, Mr. Jim, if you’d like to be a sponsor for this dog and give us some food. I’ll mention Pet Universe every chance I get.”
Jim looked at me strange.
“You can say you knew him when,” I added.
He handed me a dog treat, and it wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful, but I needed more than that, and I told him so.
“I’ve been in the pet supply business for twenty-five years and this is a first,” he told me.
I nodded.
“We really need your help, Mr. Jim. This is one special dog I’m holding.”
He handed me a bag of puppy food and a box of dog biscuits. Then a lady handed me a dog toy in the shape of a bunny.
“Thank you. I’ll come back and give you updates on how he’s doing.”
I headed out the door with Shush in one arm and the food in the other.
Mr. B, you’re a true genius.
6
SHUSH SLEPT ON a towel by my bed that first night. He’d cry and I’d pick him up. This probably happened five times. He only had one accident. I decided not to mention that to Reba.
The dog was hiding under the kitchen table. I put out his food, but he didn’t touch it. I put the bunny toy from Pet Universe next to him.
“You want to chew on this bunny?”
Shush sighed.
“Unlike other bunnies, this one won’t mind.”
Shush closed his eyes.
Reba was making oatmeal. I went to the refrigerator. “We’re out of milk.”
“I know.”
“We’re out of brown sugar.”
She knew that, too. “We’ll slice up a banana. It will be healthy.” She threw back her shoulders like she does when she needs to be tough. “And we’ll be grateful.”
It was healthy, but it wasn’t that good. We hadn’t talked about the mess we were in lately.
“So what are we going to do about that bank man and everything?”
Reba said she didn’t know and walked outside.
“Look,” I whispered to Shush, “you’d better eat what’s put in front of you and be grateful because you could be in the pound right now.”
Shush looked at the food and shuddered.
“It might be hard around here this month because we’ve got some big problems, but you know all about problems, don’t you?” I scratched his head. He seemed to like that. “We’re going to need to get used to each other. One thing you should know—you can count on me. I’m not one of those kids who says they’ll do something and then forget.”
I scratched his little head some more and made the bunny toy squeak.
“That’s a good noise, right? Do me a favor—when you get around to chewing on this, pretend it’s the bank man.”
“What a lovely thought,” Reba said from the porch.
Dear Mr. Jim,
I want to thank you for your generosity in giving me that bag of puppy food. I know my dog will love it when he gets over being so stressed. He’s really chewing the life out of the bunny toy, though, and both my mother and I want to thank you for it. Last night my mother stomped on the bunny and it brought a smile to her face.
I’ve already mentioned your kindness to our neighbor and she said you’d never given her anything free and she felt the time had come. So if Mrs. Mulch comes over looking for free cat food, I know you’ll know what to do.
Thanks again for being a friend to a lonely dog. If I meet any other needy dogs, believe me, I’ll send them to Pet Universe.
Yours very truly,
Sugar Mae Cole
I’d just gotten back from mailing the letter. Shush was hiding under the kitchen table, but his food bowl was empty.
“Good boy! You ate. Now look, I’m here to protect you from whatever you’re afraid of, but since that’s, basically, the world, we’re going to have to start small. Okay?”
Shush curled up in a ball.
“You know what? You’re missing a lot of good things when you curl up like that. I wan
t to show you something.” I pointed to a picture on the wall of Mr. Leeland and Reba getting married. “See, these are my parents and neither one of them is doing too great right now.” Shush sniffed the picture. “But despite that, I need to be brave, so I’m telling you this is possible. Do you know what Mr. Leeland did once? He told Reba he was going out to get gas for the car and he didn’t come back for a month. That’s like getting kicked, so we both know a little of what you went through.” I petted Shush’s head slowly to get him used to it. “I’m going to try to protect you from bad things, but I can’t always be with you.”
I gave him a treat, then he put his head in my hand.
“That’s right. We love each other. Loving is good.” I gave him another treat. “I wish somebody would try to train me with treats—chocolate would work.” I got out a bag of M&Ms. He put a paw on my arm. “That’s good. That’s excellent. We’re trusting each other. I think we deserve a treat, although chocolate isn’t for dogs.” I gave a dog treat to Shush and an M&M to me. “Okay, now, I’m going to try something major.” Slowly, I reached out my hand and gently stroked his stomach where he hurt. “I know you got kicked there, but I want to make it better.” I petted him and then he backed off. “That’s okay. We had a good time, right?”
And for the first time, Shush climbed in my lap and went to sleep. I gave myself an M&M for that.
Reba walked in holding a letter from Bergen and Bergen, Attorneys at Law, bad news written across her face. “They want us out by next Friday.”
My mouth felt dry. “Can they do that?”
“I’ve called Mr. Leeland, and he said he would be coming presently.”
Talk about double trouble. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“I don’t have any other ideas.” She headed to her room.
I did.
I took a huge breath and made the hardest phone call of my young life. On the fourth ring, a lady answered.
“Grace Place.”
I could hardly say it. “Is this where you come if you lose your house?”
“This is a place you can come,” she assured me.
“I can bring my mom?”
