Molly's Story Page 11

  Very gently, CJ put a hand over my muzzle, her fingers on top and her thumb on the bottom. She shook her head.

  Heavy feet clomped down a few stairs. I heard someone pry the lid off a garbage can, and a rustle as a plastic bag of trash was lowered in. But I couldn’t see anything. The car, a big blue station wagon, blocked my view of whoever was in the garage with us.

  CJ closed her eyes.

  I could feel her fear trembling through her, and I wanted to defend her. But I understood that she needed me to be still and silent. This was like playing Be Quiet under the stairs back at our old house. I had to wait until CJ told me it was okay to move and make noise again.

  The lid went back on the trash can. The feet clomped up the stairs again. A hand hit a button.

  The garage door buzzed and creaked and groaned and began to lower slowly down.

  I twitched and jumped in surprise, shaking my head loose from CJ’s hand. I couldn’t help it. That noise was so loud! But I didn’t bark.

  The garage door came all the way down and shut us in. Suddenly, it was dark.

  I licked at CJ’s face in apology for moving when we were playing Be Quiet. We sat together for several minutes. Then, very softly, CJ let out a sigh.

  Was the game over? I licked at her cheek again. “Good girl, Molly,” she whispered, and her hands relaxed their hold on me. Then I knew I’d done the game right.

  There were a few windows in the big door, the one that had lowered down. And there was another in a smaller door that led outside. A tiny bit of light from a streetlight outside reached through those windows, and slowly my eyes got used to it. I couldn’t see much, but I could see the boxes and the station wagon. I could see CJ beside me.

  She rubbed at her eyes with her hand.

  Then she patted the boxes until she found an empty one. Moving very slowly and very quietly, she flattened it out into a square. She set it down on the cement floor and curled up on it, patting the cardboard so that I came and lay down next to her.

  CJ pulled out a sweater and sweatpants from her backpack, and used them to cover us up. She put her head on the backpack like a pillow. I curled into her stomach, trying to share as much of my warmth with her as I could. She wrapped herself around me.

  She cried a little, quietly, into my fur. And then she went to sleep.

  I lay as still as I could, so I wouldn’t disturb her. I didn’t understand anything that was happening. Why didn’t CJ go to a bed to sleep, like she usually did? Or, if she was going to sleep on the floor, why didn’t she put out that warm, rustling bag that she sometimes used?

  It felt wrong to sleep in this cold garage with its smells of damp cement, oil, and gasoline. Even the fascinating trash with all its delicious smells had been stuffed into a plastic container, where nobody could get to it.

  This wasn’t the right place to sleep.

  Again, I was reminded of those days when we’d played Be Quiet under the stairs all night long. Finally, CJ had come to understand that game wasn’t any fun. She’d realized that my place to sleep was in her bed with her. Why had she forgotten?

  But I couldn’t remind her. I couldn’t do anything but stay close all night, keeping her as warm as I could.

  * * *

  Faint morning light leaked in through the windows very early. I opened my eyes, but I didn’t get up or move until CJ sighed and then groaned softly beside me.

  I wiggled around and licked her face. “Oh, Molly,” she said, with love in her voice. She reached up a hand to pat me, and then sat up with another groan. “Oh, Molly, I’m so tired!” she moaned very softly. “Okay, shush now. Stay quiet. We have to get out.”

  She stuffed her sweatpants and sweatshirt back into the backpack and then crawled awkwardly to her feet. I kept close to her as she went to the small door with a window in it. She twisted a small metal latch, turned a knob, and pushed the door slowly and silently open.

  We both slipped out into a chilly, grayish morning.

  I hurried over to the grass and squatted to leave a puddle. CJ watched me. “Wish I could do that do,” she said.

  I tilted my head to look up at her. Breakfast soon?

  CJ sighed. She settled her backpack on her shoulders. We walked away from the house and along the sidewalk. Then CJ crouched down and took the bottle of water from her backpack. She drank half of what was left and poured the rest into her hand for me to lap up. But I was still thirsty even when all the water was gone.

  We walked some more. Every now and then I licked at the grass, which was thickly covered with drops of dew. It wasn’t as good as a real drink, but it was something.

  It seemed very early. There were only a few cars driving on the roads, and most houses were shut up and silent. The light wasn’t even very bright yet. But it got brighter by the minute as we walked.

  We came to a colorful building, its windows shining with light. The parking lot stank of gasoline and oil. CJ left me tied up outside the door for a few minutes, and I sniffed at fascinating sticky spots on the sidewalk as a few cars pulled into the parking lot. The drivers got out and attached long hoses to the vehicles, then took the hoses off again and drove away.

  CJ came out quickly and untied my leash. She knelt down to rub my ears. “Molly, we’d better go to Andi’s,” she said. “I can’t think of anything else to do.”

  I lapped at her nose, wondering again about breakfast. I kept wondering while CJ took me on another walk, nearly as long as the one yesterday.

  My feet became sore from the rough pavement, and my head hung lower and lower. CJ walked slowly, too, and her feet did not lift very high off the sidewalk. My stomach was hollow and empty, and I heard a loud grumble from CJ’s belly as well. I glanced up to see her rubbing her hand over her stomach and making a face.

  We kept walking.

  After a long time, my nose began to catch a hint of a familiar scent. Dogs. Lots of dogs. My head lifted a little bit, and my tail even swished back and forth a few times. If we were going to play with Andi, there might be something to eat. I needed a good meal, not just a treat. But a treat would be better than nothing.

  Finally, I recognized the parking lot of Andi’s building. CJ hesitated before the front door, anxiety spiking inside her. Then she took a deep breath and pushed it open. We walked in.

  It smelled fantastic. There was Luke and all the other dogs, of course. But even better, I could smell their food. Other food, too. On a table against a wall, there were platters full of round pieces of bread. Some were plain; some were rich and sweet. There were big metal jars of coffee, too. I recognized that smell. Gloria drank it in the mornings.

  I drooled and tugged at the leash, but CJ held me tightly.

  People were sitting in chairs as usual, and Andi and Luke were playing. She held him on his leash and was leading him up to a lady with short white hair. “CJ?” she called with a puzzled look on her face. “Just give me a minute,” she said to the people in the chairs, and she and Luke came over to us.

  “I didn’t expect to see you at this time of the morning,” Andi said, while Luke sniffed me briefly. I hardly had the energy even to raise my nose to him.

  “Some of my volunteers can only come before work,” Andi went on. She waved a hand at the people in the chairs. “What’s up?”

  CJ put most of her weight on one heel and shifted back and forth a little. “I just thought, maybe, you’d need some help,” she mumbled.

  Andi frowned. “Isn’t it a school day?”

  “Yeah, I’m going. Soon,” CJ said. “I just kind of thought…”

  Her voice trailed off. There was a moment of silence. Luke sat down, bored, waiting for Andi to get back to the game.

  When Andi spoke next, her voice was gentle.

  “Well, I’m always glad to see you and Molly here, CJ. You know that, right?” CJ nodded. “Why don’t you check the dogs’ food and water, as long as you’re here? And I put out some bagels and doughnuts for the volunteers. Help yourself if you want anything.
”

  After that things were wonderful.

  CJ put me in a pen and right away brought me a bowl heaping to the brim with food and another one full of water. Her hands were shaking a little when she put them down.

  I plunged my muzzle into the food and gulped it down. Then I drank most of the water. When I lifted up my head, I saw CJ slipping over to the table full of food and taking two pieces of the round bread. She ate one in three or four bites while Andi and Luke played with the people in the chairs. She spread white creamy stuff on the other and ate it more slowly. I could feel her relaxing from all the way across the room.

  Then CJ left for a little while. I plopped down on the floor of the pen for a rest. When CJ came back, she had her backpack on her back again, and she smelled like food and other dogs. I licked her hands happily and let her snap the leash on my collar.

  Andi came over to put Luke into the pen. Now that I was feeling better, I sniffed him properly. He ignored me. Luke was like that.

  “Is everything okay, CJ?” Andi asked gently.

  CJ nodded.

  “Well, let me know if you need anything,” Andi said. “And remember something, okay, CJ? You can’t run away from your problems. They’ll always find you.”

  16

  When we left Andi’s, we went on another walk. I had more energy now that I’d eaten, but even so, I had a hard time believing this. I liked walks, but weren’t we ever going to do anything else? Naps, maybe?

  CJ stood up straighter than she had before, I noticed. She was walking a little quicker. I hurried, too, so that I could be right next to her feet. She seemed to know for sure where we were going.

  After a little while, I did, too.

  I began to notice smells I was familiar with. Clumps of grass and corners of mailboxes and telephone poles had been marked by dogs that I recognized. I lifted my head, sniffing deeply, and then I strained ahead, pulling on the leash.

  We weren’t going to be visiting anymore! We were going home!

  By the time we reached our block, I was nearly towing CJ down the street, so happy at the idea that I’d eat from my familiar bowl, nap in all my favorite spots, and sleep again next to CJ in our bed. CJ let me drag her across the lawn and up the front steps.

  But then she didn’t open the door. I jumped up and put my paws on the door to show her what to do, but she just sat down on the steps and patted her leg so that I’d come to sit next to her.

  A little disappointed, I flopped down across CJ’s lap. Why were we sitting on the porch like this? Weren’t we going inside?

  CJ hugged me and rubbed her cheek against the top of my head.

  “I love you, Molly,” she whispered fiercely in my ear. “And I’ll never leave you, I promise. I’ll take care of you.”

  She squeezed me a little too tightly, but I didn’t really mind. It was my job; I knew that. To be right there with my girl when she needed me.

  “Okay,” CJ said with a long sigh. “Okay.”

  She got up and unlocked the door, and we went inside.

  I was so happy to be back at last that I used up the last of my energy dashing around to smell everything I’d missed—the carpet in the living room, where I liked to lie in a particular sunny spot; the corners of the kitchen, where a few crumbs might have collected; the spot where my food and water bowls stood. (Both were empty. I’d remind CJ about that later.) Best of all, there was CJ’s bed. I leaped up onto it. The blankets and quilt were pulled up smooth and tight, but I pawed at them and pushed with my nose until they were in a comfortable jumble, as they should be.

  Then I jumped down to run back to CJ.

  She was standing in the living room, not far from the front door, staring at the wall over the fireplace. “Molly, look,” she said slowly. I came to sit by her side, panting, and she reached down to stroke my head.

  “It’s my painting of you,” she said. “The one from the art show. Gloria had it framed? And she hung it up? I can’t believe it.”

  I wagged. My tail thumped into CJ’s leg. I nosed at her hand, hanging by her side. More food now?

  Then CJ and I both heard a creak as the door swung open.

  CJ jumped, turning toward the hallway. I was surprised because whoever it was hadn’t knocked or rung the doorbell. It was my job to bark at a person outside of the door or greet that person enthusiastically once he or she came in. Which was I supposed to do this time?

  “Gloria?” CJ called nervously.

  The person who’d opened the door came into the living room. It was Shane.

  “You left the door open,” he said, looking at CJ.

  CJ took a few steps backward, fear suddenly spiking inside her. I crowded close to her leg. Why was she scared? We were home at last. Everything should be all right now.

  Maybe she didn’t like Shane’s smell, just like I didn’t. He usually smelled angry. Right now he smelled worse.

  “What are you doing here?” CJ asked, her voice higher than usual.

  “I saw you walking with that dog,” Shane said. “I followed you. Aren’t you supposed to be in school? I’m not, of course. Since I got expelled.”

  CJ was beginning to tremble. “Listen. You have to go. My mom will be home soon.”

  Shane leaned against the door frame. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go. After we have a talk.”

  “We’re not talking,” CJ said.

  “We are. About school. About that stupid art class. What did you tell that teacher?”

  “Nothing,” CJ said.

  I looked back and forth from Shane to my girl. If they had been dogs, I’m pretty sure they would be growling at each other. But since they were humans, they were just talking.

  “Oh, right. Nothing. You told her I took that stuff from her desk, didn’t you? Or you wouldn’t have gotten off so light. How come I got expelled and you didn’t, CJ? Unless you told them everything?”

  Shane took a step into the room.

  CJ took a step backward, but then she bunched her hands into fists and stepped forward again.

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you,” she snapped. “You stole a phone and some money! And now you’re mad at me because you got in trouble? Like I did something to you? Get real, Shane. And get out!”

  On the last word, her voice became a yell.

  Shane’s anger flared inside him, and I knew what to do. Just as I had with Gus in the museum, I growled. My lips pulled back from my teeth, and all the hair along my neck bristled.

  I dropped my head down, letting Shane know this wasn’t a game. I began to walk toward him.

  Shane backed toward the hall, and I could smell the fear and anger fighting inside him. “Get that dog away from me. We’re not done here.”

  “I told you to get out!” CJ yelled again.

  “I’ll kick your dog!” Shane threatened.

  “I’m calling the police right now!” CJ said, and her voice was high and tight with panic. “Molly, come. Come here!”

  I stopped, but I didn’t come to CJ’s side. I knew I was supposed to obey my girl, but I didn’t want Shane to think I was backing down. He needed to know that I’d protect her.

  “Stupid little dog like that,” Shane said from the hallway. His anger was winning. “I’ll show you—”

  Someone knocked on the door, and it swung open.

  Sheryl was standing on the porch.

  I wagged once, to show Sheryl I was still her friend. Then I dropped my tail low to let Shane know I hadn’t forgotten him.

  “What’s going on?” Sheryl asked, looking from Shane to CJ.

  CJ lifted her chin.

  “Nothing. Shane is just leaving,” she said.

  Shane glared at CJ. At Sheryl. At me.

  “Fine,” he muttered, and he turned to the door, pushing past Sheryl.

  “And don’t come back!” CJ shouted after him.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t!” he yelled. And he began to walk quickly along the street with his head down, his hands jammed into the pockets
of his jeans.

  Wagging my tail, I hurried to CJ’s side. We’d done it! Shane was gone!

  17

  Sheryl looked out at the street after Shane. “Is everything all right, CJ?” she asked.

  “It’s fine,” CJ said. “He’s not going to come back here. Molly showed him.”

  Sheryl nodded. She looked different, I realized. Her face was thin and tired, and she had on a soft, fuzzy red hat that covered her head closely.

  “Are you okay?” CJ asked her awkwardly. “I mean…”

  Sheryl smiled. “Yes. I am okay, CJ. That’s what I came here to tell you. Can we sit down?”

  CJ nodded, and they sat together on the couch. Since Gloria wasn’t here, I jumped up on the couch and laid my head across CJ’s knees. I understood the rules—I was a bad dog if I got on the couch while Gloria was home, but a good dog if I did it when it was just me and CJ.

  Sheryl looked up at the wall above the fireplace. “Your painting looks good there,” she said.

  CJ ducked her head. “My mom had it framed,” she said in a low voice.

  And then the two humans did more of that talking.

  I simply did not understand why people thought it was important to spend so much time making noise. Even dogs (most of the time) only bark when there is a reason to bark. Maybe people do it because they are just not that good at playing. Even CJ didn’t like to chase and wrestle the way Rocky did.

  I closed my eyes and dozed, still tired from all the long walks CJ and I had taken. My ears twitched every now and then, and I heard snippets of the talk going back and forth above my head. “No cancer left,” Sheryl said. And, “The doctors say it looks very good.” And, “If they hadn’t caught it so early, it would have been much worse.”

  “I have you to thank for that,” Sheryl said, and I could hear the smile in her words. “You and Molly.”

  She reached over to rub my ears. CJ patted my back at the same time. I sighed a long, happy sigh without opening my eyes. Somehow I felt like a very good dog.

  I was so comfortable that I didn’t even stir when I heard the door click open. A familiar smell, flowery and sweet, flowed in. I knew who it was. I didn’t need to bark.