Harvey edges forward, ready to spring. From under the shed there is a hiss, a nasty, spitting noise that makes every muscle in Harvey’s body go rigid. His instinct tells him something isn’t right. Every nerve in Harvey’s body is on high alert.
Deep from his belly comes a loud, warning bark. Get away! this bark says. Go!
But the raccoon has a warning too. It hisses again from the darkness, growling at Harvey. Its teeth and claws are ready for a fight.
Harvey moves closer. He knows he has to stand his ground. His bark turns vicious, as if he is the bloodthirsty creature. From inside the house, Maggie looks out her bedroom window.
Harvey can’t let up. A staccato drumbeat of snarls and rough barks, the likes of which Maggie has never heard, explode out of him. If she didn’t know her little Westie, she would be scared of him.
The raccoon realizes she is trapped. Her beady black eyes flash in the dark, looking for an escape. There is a sliver of space at the back of the shed where the gravel has sunk. She moves toward it, silently, to evade Harvey. She’s a thief of the night, used to sneaking and skulking. She can get past this yappy dog.
But Harvey’s hearing is keen. As is his sense of smell. The scent of fresh gravel as she unearths it and the rattle of rocks tumbling into the hole make him pause. Only for a second, but it’s enough for him to know that his enemy is on the move.
One black claw, then another, appears at the back of the shed. This is his chance. He doesn’t wait for the rest of her. He scurries under the shed with a savage bark, ready to attack.
“Harvey!” Maggie shrieks when she gets outside, breathless from racing down the stairs. She has seen him go under the shed and knows there must be something under there, but what? Her dad is beside her telling Maggie to stay back. Maggie ignores him and runs to the shed. “Harvey!” she shouts again over the barking. She’s never heard him like this. He sounds like a wild, violent thing; like a guard dog meant to terrify.
Harvey registers Maggie’s voice, but won’t be deterred. He’s a ratter. The raccoon is in his territory and the chase is on. He bares his teeth, muscles tense. He’d tear into the creature if that were in his nature, which it isn’t.
But it is in the raccoon’s.
The opening she’d hoped to squeeze through is too narrow. She is trapped again and now the dog is under the shed with her, snarling and barking. She realizes there is only one chance for freedom and that is attack. She turns to the dog, easily spotted even in the dark thanks to his shiny white coat, and lunges.
Her teeth sink into Harvey’s back. They plunge deep and her claws hold his scrambling legs. A high-pitched yelp pierces the air as Harvey feels a sharp pain. His barking stops.
The raccoon could do more damage. She’s injured Harvey. Badly. But raccoons are survivors, not fighters. She can see her escape route and takes it.
“Harvey!” Maggie is crying now, powerless to do anything from outside the shed. He won’t come at her call. When she hears his yelp, she swears her heart skips a beat. She goes down on her knees to drag him out, but her dad pulls her back. He’s grabbed a shovel and holds it, ready to swing.
“Stay back!”
“He’s hurt!” Maggie screams again. Her heart is pounding when the raccoon slinks out. Her dad chases it with the shovel, but his threats are needless. The raccoon wants out of the yard. It hurries to the fence, climbs a post, and disappears into the night. Maggie stretches her arms as far under the shed as she can, but she can’t feel Harvey. Her mom stands behind her with a flashlight. Maggie’s dad drops the shovel and falls to his stomach, arms reaching out.
Harvey feels hands pawing him. He blinks at a beam of light, but he’s too weak to move. “I’ve got him,” Maggie’s dad says.
Maggie is crying too hard to ask if he is alive. The sound of their fight still rings in her ears.
As gentle as Maggie’s dad tries to be, yanking Harvey out of the hole is no easy task. Maggie stands by watching as a limp Harvey is dragged out from under the shed. He feels nothing but the beat of Maggie’s heart as she holds him tightly.
Harvey shuts his eyes, breathing in her smell, and then goes still.
Chapter 50
Austin
I get the message as soon as I arrive at Brayside on Friday. I haven’t even taken off my backpack when Artie passes it to me. “Maggie called first thing this morning. This is her mom’s cell. She said it was serious.”
It has to be something about Harvey. Was he hit by a car? Lost again? A bunch of ideas run through my head, which makes the twenty seconds I wait for her to pick up seem even longer. “Austin?” she says.
“Yeah. It’s me. Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I am, but Harvey’s not. We’re at the animal clinic.”
“What happened?”
Artie is watching my reaction and Mary Rose is there too.
Their faces are pulled tight with worry.
“He got in a fight with a raccoon and got bit. He’s hurt really bad.” Maggie’s voice cracks and she takes a shuddery breath. “They had to sedate him and he needed surgery.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. The bite might have hurt his spine.”
“Where are you?”
Maggie takes a breath. “Southside Animal Hospital.” I grab a piece of paper off the desk and write down the name. “I’ll see if my grandpa can take me. I’ll call you back.”
I hang up and tell Artie and Mary Rose what happened. “Oh, poor Harvey!” Mary Rose says. “Those raccoons! I just hate them.”
“I need to see him.” And the truth is I want to see Maggie too.
“Your grandpa’s at the new building site,” Artie says. “He’ll be there all afternoon.”
We look up Southside Animal Hospital. It’s too far to walk to. My stomach is twisted in knots worrying about Maggie and Harvey. “I wish one of us could take you, but we have to stay here,” Mary Rose says.
“I know,” I say.
“There is someone else who has a car though.” Artie and Mary Rose look at each other.
“I bet she’d do it too.”
Artie prints out a map while Mary Rose heads down to the suite at the end of the hall.
Chapter 51
Maggie
Maggie’s butt is numb from sitting in the waiting room for hours. Her dad stayed with her through the night and her mom has been with her for most of the day. She’s left now to pick up her little sisters from day care. She wanted Maggie to go home for a while, but Maggie refused. She doesn’t want Harvey to wake up alone.
Tired and stressed, the worst thoughts are running through her head.
The vet said the raccoon bite was dangerously close to Harvey’s spine. Maggie caught the look that passed between her mom and the doctor. If Harvey’s spine is damaged, he might not be able to walk. Maggie can’t let herself think about what would happen if Harvey is paralyzed.
Maggie hasn’t told Lexi or Brianne where she is. Now that she knows about the sleepover and has seen the #TwoIsBetterThanThree photo from Tubby’s, she can’t reach out.
To be honest, there is only one person Maggie wants to talk to.
Maggie shifts in the chair, trying to find a more comfortable position when the door to the clinic opens. All day she has seen people come and go with their pets. Dogs, mostly, but there have also been a few rabbits, cats, and birds. The two people who walk in don’t have a pet with them and it takes Maggie a moment to realize why.
They aren’t here for the vet. They’re here for her.
“Margaret!” Mrs. Fradette strides toward her, outpacing Austin. “I heard! Your poor dog!”
“Hey,” Austin says, frowning. “We wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Their genuine concern brings a new flood of tears to Maggie’s eyes. “He’s still in surgery.”<
br />
She explains about the bite and that it went into Harvey’s deep tissue, dangerously close to his spine, and the excruciating wait for the surgeon to do the operation. “I haven’t seen him since we got here.”
Mrs. Fradette sits down and takes Maggie’s hand in hers. Mrs. Fradette is in a brightly patterned dress and carrying her ridiculously large black purse, which she keeps on her lap. “He’s a tough dog. He’ll make it,” Mrs. Fradette says.
Austin sits on Maggie’s other side. He doesn’t hold her hand, but he does put his arm on the armrest, touching Maggie’s. The small act comforts her.
“He wouldn’t back down,” Maggie says. “And I couldn’t do anything to help. I’ve never heard him bark that way.” All at once a new wave of despair takes over and Maggie struggles to hold back her tears. “What if he—”
Mrs. Fradette pats Maggie’s knee. “I haven’t told you what happened after Dad let me stay in Laurier, have I?”
Maggie wipes her tears and shakes her head, welcoming the distraction from worrying about Harvey.
Mrs. Fradette shifts her purse on her lap and begins speaking.
“Once Dad said I could stay in Laurier, it was decided I’d live with my grandparents. I wasn’t thrilled about it; I would have preferred to stay at Aunt Cecile’s. Even her eight boys were more enticing than Mémère. But Mom thought Mémère could use the help and I think she knew my grandmother was the only person who had a chance of keeping me in line.
“Her list of chores was as long as my arm and had to be completed before I was allowed to go to the garage. I fell into bed exhausted at the end of every day, but I knew I’d made the right choice. I was as happy as I’d ever been.” Mrs. Fradette smiles at the memory. “I had Peggy too. She’d doubled in size about a month after we found her, but she still didn’t want to leave our yard. It was as much her home as it was mine.
“Norm Lacroix continued to be a thorn in my side. Even though Pépère had told his father he should stay away from me, he kept turning up like a bad penny.
“Pépère came home grumbling one day after he caught Norm and a few of his friends smoking behind our garage. He sent them packing, but Norm never seemed deterred. He just kept coming back. Sometimes, he’d show up by himself, sidling up to where I was working and leaning against the car asking questions. I thought he was just being annoying, and I’d ignore him, but after a few weeks of this, it was Alphonse who figured it out. ‘He likes you.’
“‘Does not.’
“‘Sure he does. Look at the way he’s always hanging around.’ Alphonse had become like a brother to me after all our weeks working in the garage. The competition that had existed when I first arrived had mellowed. We often ate our lunch together and talked about the latest radio shows. Alphonse loved cars and went through his dog-eared copy of auto magazines pointing out the cars he wanted to own one day.
“‘He hangs around because he’s Norm Lacroix, which is French for irritating.’
“But Alphonse shook his head. ‘He’s looking for your attention. Trust me.’
“The thought of Norm liking me turned my stomach. I didn’t know why he would; I’d thrown rocks at him and chased him with a welding torch. When he came around, I didn’t give him the time of day.
“‘Josephine!’ Pépère called. He had a car hoisted up on the lift and was welding its axle. It was a tricky one. He had on his welding goggles that made him look like a space invader. He passed me a wet sponge and told me to climb into the car. ‘If you see any sparks, you need to put them out.’ With all the chemicals in the garage, even one that smoldered could spell disaster.
“When Pépère was finished, he asked if I wanted to have a go. Of course, this wasn’t my first time with a welding torch, but Pépère didn’t mention it, and neither did I. He brought an old hubcap over and let me try welding the spokes back together. I put the goggles over my eyes. They were steamy and heavy. My hands were too small for the gloves and I was clumsy in them. I was concentrating on not dropping the torch and on the flame that shot out the end of it.
“Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Norm appear. ‘Hey there, Josephine,’ he called.
“At first, I pretended not to hear him. ‘Hey there!’ he called again. ‘You’re wearing goggles this time.’ He gave me an oily grin. It was clear he wasn’t going away unless I sent him away.
“I turned the flame off and pushed the goggles up onto my forehead. ‘What do you want?’
“He shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. ‘There’s a dance at the parish hall on Saturday. Did you know about it?’
“I’d seen posters. They were up all over. ‘What about it?’ “‘Wondered if you were going.’
“I almost dropped the welding torch. There I was, covered head to toe in soot and grease. ‘To the dance?’ I asked. ‘No.’
“‘Did you want to go?’ he asked.
“‘No.’ I looked at him like he’d asked me to go to the moon. Norm’s face flushed bright red and he turned away, embarrassed. That was when I realized he had been asking if I wanted to go with him.
“‘What was that all about?’ Alphonse asked from under the hood of a car.
“‘Norm asked me to a dance,’ I said, still confused by the whole exchange, ‘but I said no.’
“Alphonse snorted. ‘That took guts.’
“‘To ask me?’ With the welding torch in one hand, goggles over my eyes, and smudges of grease on the boys’ coveralls I wore, I would have agreed that any boy who wanted to spend time with me was either brave or blind.
“‘To say no.’
“‘Pfft. Norm?’ I still remembered how he had scampered away when I’d come at him and his friends with the welding torch.
“Alphonse shrugged. ‘He’s got a mean streak; all the Lacroix folk do. They think because they have money they’re better than the rest of us. Watch your back is all I’m saying.’
“I didn’t think any more on Alphonse’s words. Norm didn’t scare me. I was sure I could handle whatever he sent my way.”
Mrs. Fradette pauses. Both Austin and Maggie are engrossed in her story. For the moment, the reason they are sitting in a vet clinic has been forgotten as they are drawn into her memories.
“I should have listened to Alphonse,” Mrs. Fradette says. The tone of her voice has turned serious. “Mémère and I were home when a truck pulled up into the front driveway. A man got out. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and khaki-colored clothes.
“‘Is this the Desroches residence?’ he asked from the porch. “‘Yes.’
“‘Your parents home?’
“I explained that they were my grandparents and Mémère spoke only French. ‘My grandfather is at his garage across the field.’ Peggy picked that moment to bound into the front yard. She liked greeting new people. ‘Don’t worry,’ I told him. ‘That’s Peggy. She’s harmless.’
“The man raised an eyebrow. ‘This is your deer?’
“I nodded right away, worried he’d mistake her for something wild. ‘We rescued her and we’ve been raising her. She’s tame.’
“The man’s friendliness disappeared. ‘You know it’s illegal to keep wild animals on private property?’
“Mémère appeared behind me. She asked me in French what the man wanted, but I didn’t have an answer for her. ‘There’s been a report about an illegal animal on your property,’ he said, and pulled a sheet of paper out of his shirt pocket. When he handed it to Mémère I saw the label across the top: CONSERVATION AND ANIMAL PROTECTION. ‘This is a warning. I’m taking the deer with me today. If we find any other wild animals on the property, you’ll be fined.’
“I stared at him for a moment, not understanding what was happening. Why was he taking Peggy? He went back to his truck and returned with a coil of rope.
“Peggy was so used to people, she didn’t run when he came at her. She let him put
the rope around her neck. He tightened it like a noose and my blood ran cold. ‘Peggy!’ I screamed.
“Mémère started ranting at the man in French. I screamed for Pépère and he came racing across the field from the garage. Peggy’s eyes were wild and terrified at the man’s roughness and our screams. She dug her feet in. I worried she’d break her neck twisting away from him. ‘Stop it! You’re hurting her!’
“‘What’s going on?’ Pépère shouted. The man was sweating by the time he’d yanked Peggy up into the bed of his truck. The sides were wooden slats and I could see Peggy staring at me between the boards, terrified.
“‘You can’t keep wild animals.’ The man slammed the back gate shut.
“Pépère sputtered. ‘She’s not wild. We’ve been raising her. She’s as tame as the cat.’
“Peggy let loose a cry. A wail, really. It burned right into my ears. ‘You can’t do this!’ I screamed. ‘Where are you taking her?’ I stormed up to the man and Pépère came after me. He knew it wasn’t Peggy that was the wild thing to be worried about, it was me.
“But the man wouldn’t answer us. ‘She’ll be set loose in a suitable environment,’ was all he said as he climbed into the truck and slammed the door. ‘Let this be a lesson to you. You can’t tame wild animals.’ I stamped my feet on the ground. What would Peggy do? After being with us for all these weeks, how would she survive?
“I fell against Pépère, sobbing. ‘How’d he even know we had her?’
“Pépère let out a slow breath. ‘Someone told him.’ It wasn’t until the dust cloud from the truck disappeared that I remembered Alphonse’s warning about Norm.”
Maggie and Austin sit with their mouths gaping.
Mrs. Fradette continues her story. “Nothing Pépère said made me feel better. I couldn’t forgive myself for letting that man take Peggy, for not being able to protect her.”
Maggie stiffens. Since she arrived with Harvey one thought has run through her head: It’s my fault. She’d heard him scratching at her bedroom door and hadn’t let him in. Regret sits heavily on Maggie’s shoulders. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in Lexi’s stupid text, Harvey wouldn’t be here. He’d be cuddling on her bed with her. A new wave of tears is about to hit when Austin says, “It wasn’t your fault.”
Harvey Holds His Own Page 12
