Harvey Comes Home

by Colleen Nelson

  “Bertie’s chin quivered. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

  “I took a step closer to her and held out my hand. ‘Please, Bertie. He’s suffering.’

  “She squeezed her eyes shut and handed me the ax.”

  Mr. Pickering broke off, took a shaky breath, and started talking again. “I don’t like thinking about what came next,” he said. “I did what I had to do.” His voice ached with the memory.

  “We got General home and Ma bandaged him up best she could. Ma didn’t say one word about letting a dog in the house, but he stayed by the fire for a week as he healed. Bertie slept on the floor beside him at night, the two of them curled up together under a quilt.

  Mr. Pickering offered a rare smile. “I coaxed him to stand one day with a piece of rabbit meat that I dangled in front of him. That half leg was just a stump, but he could balance on the other three. I stood a few feet away and called to him. Bertie was right beside him. His first steps were clumsy, but once he got his balance, he made it to me. The twins cheered and even Ma clapped. We all needed some good news after that winter.”

  He stopped and took a shaky breath. It took everything in me not to beg Mr. Pickering to keep talking. But I could see he was worn out.

  “Where are you going?” he asked when Harvey and I stood to go.

  “I got my chores to do for Grandpa,” I said.

  “Will you come again?”

  “Yeah, for sure. Tomorrow, probably.”

  “Oh, good,” he said with a sigh.

  I shook my head as I left his room. I wished I’d given Mr. Pickering a chance a long time ago.

  Chapter 26

  Maggie

  It is Thursday, and there are still no leads to Harvey’s whereabouts. Maggie’s optimism is leaking out of her like a slowly deflating balloon. She keeps her eyes and ears open as she walks home. She reads online stories about amazing animal reunions. A dog—lost in the woods for three years—suddenly shows up at his owner’s home. A cat that accidentally boards a plane and flies to South America is returned six months later.

  She made new posters last night and added a line: $1,000 Reward for Safe Return. In her heart, there is no price she can put on Harvey, but $1,000 is all she has. Actually, she only had $982 saved up from birthday and Christmas, but Brianne and Lexi both put in nine dollars to help find Harvey. She has gone behind her parents’ backs to have these signs made, and begged a teacher at school to photocopy fifty of them. Maggie thinks her parents will be angry that she’s used her savings to find Harvey, but she doesn’t care.

  Maggie and her friends will go after school to put up the posters in other areas of the city. Brianne’s mother has offered to take some to her work—a middle school across the city—and pin them up.

  Chapter 27

  Austin

  Through the crowd of kids hanging around the entrance doors, I could see a Lost Dog poster. Mrs. Miller had just put it up on the community news bulletin board. The bell was about to ring, so I had to push my way forward to get a better look at it.

  Please don’t let it be Harvey.

  But I knew it was him before I was close enough to read his name. In the photo, he was tilting his head as if he didn’t understand a question. He’d been groomed, and his white fur was full and fluffy. LOST DOG was written in bold letters across the top. On the bottom, it said: $1,000 Reward.

  His owner wanted him back. One thousand dollars. I could imagine what Mom would say if I came home with all that money. It would help. A lot.

  But I’d have to give up Harvey.

  My heart raced. I glanced around quickly. Mrs. Miller had gone back to her classroom. I waited for the bell to ring. As everyone jostled through the entrance doors, I ripped the poster off the board and jammed it into my backpack.

  I had to think this through. If there was a poster at school, where else would it be hung up? At the rec center? The grocery store? What if there were Lost Dog posters all over the neighborhood? What if Mom saw a poster? Or Grandpa?

  Instead of going to class, I turned around and went outside. My head was spinning as I ran back to my apartment. Grandpa wouldn’t have picked Harvey up yet. I still didn’t know what I was going to do when I put the key in the lock and heard Harvey bark on the other side of the door.

  Chapter 28

  Harvey

  After Austin leaves for the morning, Harvey goes back to bed and waits for Phillip. This home is quiet—too quiet for Harvey’s liking.

  He jumps up when he hears the lock click. Ears pricked, he goes to investigate. He can smell Austin before he sees him. Austin’s sweat and the cold of the outside have mixed together in a most pleasing way. What a wonderful surprise! He can’t hold back a bark of greeting and is even more thrilled when he sees Austin grab the leash. He knows what that means! A walk! He jumps up and stretches against the boy’s legs, but Austin steps away. Harvey notices his voice is different; his movements are jerky and sharp. Harvey’s tail goes up, on high alert.

  Harvey lets Austin clip the leash onto his collar. There is no elevator in the building, so Austin and Harvey race down the stairs to get to the main floor and fly through the front door. Harvey goes straight to his first stop, already coated with so many new smells. He lifts his leg to leave his own and then feels the tug on the leash. Austin is ready to run. There is no time for sniffing. Harvey’s feet barely touch the ground as he races with Austin, the wind whistling past his ears.

  Both of them breathless, they arrive at Brayside. Harvey pants and runs for the bowl of water behind the desk. His heart is thumping and he is invigorated. He circles back to Austin. The boy bends down. His voice is thick and his breath comes in bursts. Austin pulls Harvey against him and hugs him to his chest.

  Harvey has a vague memory of being hugged this way before. Her hair used to tickle his nose, and he’d curl up on her bed in that cozy spot in the crook of her knees. He can almost hear the high-pitched cadence of her voice. A pang of loneliness hits Harvey. Raising his nose in the air, he tries to detect a whiff of her scent.

  But of course, there is nothing.

  Chapter 29

  Austin

  As soon as I got to Brayside, I called Grandpa. “You don’t need to pick up Harvey,” I told him. “There’s no school today. Gas leak. They sent all the kids home.” I curled my toes as the lie slid off my tongue. “We’re here waiting for you.”

  My eyes ached from trying to hold back tears. I was doing the wrong thing, and I knew it. I should have dug the Lost Dog poster out of my backpack, called the number, let Harvey’s owner know he was safe, and collected the reward.

  But I wasn’t ready to let Harvey go. Not just for me anymore. For Mr. Pickering too. He’d never said two words to me until Harvey showed up.

  I knew it was selfish to keep Harvey now that I’d seen the poster. I went from being a good kid taking in a stray to a dog­napper, keeping Harvey from his owner.

  “What are you doing here?” Mary Rose bent down to pat Harvey.

  “No school today,” I said.

  “Well, it’s probably good you showed up. I’ve got some bad news.” She frowned, and my breath stuttered in my throat. “About Mr. Pickering.”

  I couldn’t breathe, waiting for her spit it out.

  “Is he—?” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. He looked better yesterday, even after telling the long story about General’s leg. A hard knot burned in my chest. I shouldn’t have let him keep talking yesterday.

  “We’re moving him to the second floor tomorrow.”

  “Moving.” I sighed with relief. “Tomorrow?”

  “We think it’s for the best.” I didn’t listen to anything else Mary Rose said. I just took off down the hall with Harvey at my heels.

  It wasn’t Mr. Pickering who answered the door—this time it was Louise. Her dark skin glowed against the
white of her uniform.

  “Morning, Austin. What are you doing here?”

  “No school,” I said. I held Harvey back so he wouldn’t go bounding in.

  “Mr. Pickering,” she said extra loud, even though there was nothing wrong with his hearing. “Look who’s here! Austin!” Then she turned to me and said quietly, “He says he’s not hungry, but he didn’t eat much dinner last night.” She made a note on a clipboard and put it in the holder on the door. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to check on him.” A tray of food sat on the coffee table in front of him.

  “Is he okay?” I asked.

  Louise didn’t nod right away. “You know he’s being moved upstairs.”

  “Mary Rose told me.”

  “I don’t think he’s happy about it,” she whispered. “And I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’m not either.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said.

  “I know you do.” Louise squeezed my arm and looked down at Harvey. “Harvey’s going to miss him too, I bet.” Harvey and I were welcome to go where we wanted on the first floor, but the second floor was different. I wasn’t family and neither was Harvey. I didn’t know the nurses as well up there. What if they didn’t like us hanging around?

  “I’ll see you later, Mr. Pickering. You have a nice visit with Austin,” Louise called, and shut the door once Harvey and I were inside the suite.

  Mr. Pickering was in his recliner as usual. He twisted his head to look toward us when I let Harvey go.

  “General,” he mumbled.

  “It’s Harvey,” I said. He jumped up on the recliner, and Mr. Pickering shifted over to give him space to lie down. He put a hand on his chest as if he were checking his heart. His eyes were watery.

  “Austin,” he sighed. “They’re moving me upstairs.”

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Guess it’s time,” he said.

  “The second floor’s not so bad.”

  Mr. Pickering shot me a look, like he wasn’t buying my BS. “I know what it’s like. I know why they’re moving me.”

  “I’ll still come visit you,” I said. If I can.

  Mr. Pickering rested his head and stared at the tray of food Louise had left. He let out a long sigh.

  “Did I ever tell you about the summer of 1936?” he asked. I shook my head.

  He shifted in his chair and I settled in to listen.

  “Nineteen thirty-six was the longest, hottest, and driest summer on record. Worse than all the other summers, which no one thought was possible. Bertie and I were thirteen that year, and we did what we could to keep the farm running. All the money that Pa had made in the bush over the winter had gone to pay off credit at Hackett’s and to buy some vegetable seeds for Ma’s garden. Our fields, like everyone else’s, lay empty. I tell you, you’d have thought you were looking at the Sahara Desert, not the prairies.

  “The only green things were in Ma’s small plot of vegetables we were hoping to harvest come fall. I’d haul water from the pond, which had all but dried up, using two pails attached to a rod across my back. The twins said I looked like a mule, but I’d learned how to walk without spilling a drop. I think the two of them, Nigel especially, were jealous that Ma didn’t trust them to help her. But we couldn’t risk even one plant being trampled by their clumsy feet. My arms and legs had gotten stronger from all the work. Despite it being a drought, I wasn’t looking like such a scrawny kid anymore.

  “We kept some chickens, and still had our cows. Pa had started a business as a traveling mechanic, going to farms to fix tractors and the like. The farmers paid whatever they could offer, which usually wasn’t much. Like everyone else, we were getting by on relief, delivered in train cars to the station in Weyburn once a month.

  “This one day, me and Bertie were out watering Ma’s garden when I stood up and saw something in the distance.

  “‘What’s that?’ I raised my arm and pointed at a cloud of dust on the blurred horizon. ‘Is it a horse?’ We stood watching as whatever it was moved closer. General ran out from the barn and panted beside me.

  “We hadn’t seen men on horseback in a while. People couldn’t afford to keep a horse, except for plowing. And if they had one, they weren’t galloping across the prairie like that, with nothing but a sea of sand in front of them. We saw mules. And carts loaded up with a family’s possessions rolling past like a funeral procession. But not galloping horsemen.

  “‘There’s three of them,’ Bertie said, squinting. The horses moved in unison, their hooves kicking up a wall of dust.

  “The twins came out of the house, followed by Ma with three-year-old Sylvia in her arms. I think she was worried they had news of Pa. I remember looking back at her and seeing the frown lines etched into her forehead, a few wisps of hair blowing against her face.

  “Those were the days when sand got into everything. Even the food on your plate. Clothes that had been hidden in trunks had to be shaken out before you could wear them. Sometimes, after a real bad dust storm, the sand on the table was so thick we could write our names in it.

  “‘Who are they?’ Bertie asked.

  “‘Bertie, Millard—take Sylvia inside,’ Ma said, handing my sister over to Millard. ‘Give her some milk and keep her quiet.’

  “Millard started to argue. He didn’t want to go inside. But he was the smallest of us boys. Ma shot him a look that said, Just do it. So he did.

  “General was tense beside me, as if he didn’t like the looks of the men either. His tail was up and his ears were pricked, as if he were trying to catch every sound in the air. His gait was different now. He hopped more than he ran. But even with three legs, he was the best darn farm dog we ever had.

  “We could see the three men more clearly now. They were all the color of sand, covered head to toe in dust. They had pulled their handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses against the dust, but it made them look like bandits. General started to bark as soon as they came onto our property. I put my hand out to silence him.

  “One of the riders pulled out front and reined his horse in, so it slowed to a canter as he passed our well. They didn’t call to us, introduce themselves, or offer a greeting like you’d expect. They rode past Ma’s garden, the barn, and the woodpile, looking around like they owned the place.

  “Ma’s expression got hard. She didn’t move or say anything—just stared at the three interlopers. A bad feeling rose in my gut. Beside me, Bertie shifted and I heard her breath quicken.

  “Pa had always warned us about desperate men. He said it was easy to underestimate what a desperate man might do. I figured he’d been around enough of them to know—and I tried to remember that as the three horsemen stared down at me. At the ripe old age of thirteen, I was the man of the house in my father’s absence.

  “‘Afternoon,’ one of them drawled as he pulled down his kerchief and tipped his hat. A line of dust was drawn across his face where the kerchief hadn’t covered. The bottom half was unshaven. Even from where I stood, I could smell the stink of the road on them. Sweat, leather, and unwashed flesh made my eyes water. None of them got off his horse, which would have been the polite thing to do. I looked toward the road in hopes of seeing Pa and his cart trundling along. But the road was empty.

  “‘Can I help you?’ Ma spoke up.

  “‘Well, yes. Yes, you can.’ He turned to the other two. ‘Didn’t I tell you people ’round here were friendly?’ They shot each other sidelong glances, and I watched as they took in the green of the garden plot and the tractor that Pa had taken out of the shed to tinker with earlier that day. We weren’t thriving, but we’d make it through the summer. Pa would go into the bush as usual and come home with money to see us through another year.

  “Normally, Ma would have offered guests a drink of water, or barley coffee. But with these three, she just stared as she waited to find out what they wanted.r />
  “‘A friend of ours told us about your place.’

  “I narrowed my eyes. ‘Who’s that?’ General growled beside me. He didn’t like the looks of them either. The fact that they still hadn’t dismounted to talk to us was an act of hostility.

  “‘A man we met up in Prince Albert. Told us there were some good people down this way who’d be more than happy to show us some hospitality. He mentioned a farm house just like this one.’

  “I figured they were lying, but Bertie piped up. ‘What’s his name?’

  “‘Joe. Said he had a cabin ’round here too, tucked in the bush. Said we was welcome to stay there if we wanted.’

  “‘Joe what?’

  “The man snorted. ‘What’s it to you?’

  “Bertie narrowed her eyes and glared at them. I knew what she was thinking. We hadn’t talked about her pa, or his absence, in a long time. It must have weighed on her, though, wondering where he was and if he was still alive.

  “‘When was this?’ I asked, making my voice deeper than it was.

  “The one at the back leaned down over his bridle. ‘Couple weeks ago.’ The leader shot him a look.

  “‘Is he still there?’ Bertie asked.

  “The front man stared at her and sucked on his teeth. They must have been as dry as chalk. I could hear the thickness in his voice. ‘What do you care?’

  “She shrugged. ‘I’m curious ’bout why a man from ’round here would tell you three something like that. Unless he owed you.’

  “One of them snorted. ‘She’s got it pretty well figured out.’

  “Bertie pressed her lips together and jutted her chin forward. She muttered curses under her breath. Ma stiffened beside me, not because of Bertie’s cursing, but because she’d also put two and two together. With no way to pay his debt, Bertie’s good-for-nothing pa had sold us out. These men would take what they could from us to settle up with him. How many other farms had they ransacked today?