Two cars were parked in the driveway near the hedge. Loud rap music throbbed inside the house and harsh voices rose angrily. I couldn't make out what the people said, but I could tell a huge argument was taking place.
The collie trotted up the driveway toward the house, then stopped to look at me. She clearly wanted me to follow, knock on the door, and see what was going on inside, but I knew I couldn't do that. Whoever was in that house would not be pleased to find a twelve-year-old kid on the doorstep, asking about a missing dog.
I got out my camera and snapped a picture of the chain lying on the ground by the tree. I'm not sure why, but I also took a picture of the two cars. Then I turned and ran for home.
Instantly I was running into a strong, icy wind. It was as if a cold front had suddenly moved down from Canada and the full force of the storm was blowing at my face, trying to keep me from going forward. I put my head down, pushing ahead, but I barely moved. When I looked up, I saw the collie a few yards ahead of me. She faced me head on with her legs braced stiffly, as if she were using all her energy to create a barrier that I couldn't get past.
I stopped running. “I'm sorry,” I told her. “I know you want me to go back there, but I can't do it. I want to help Ra, but I can't talk to the people in that house. I need to help Ra my own way. If he's lost, I'll do everything I can to find him. If he's in that house, I . . .” I what? My voice trailed off. “I'm sorry,” I said again.
I was glad there wasn't anyone else around. If someone saw me standing there in the middle of the night apologizing to a dog's ghost, they would probably haul me off for a mental evaluation.
I didn't know if the collie could understand me. I didn't even know for sure if she could hear me. All I knew was that the cold wind stopped and I was able to make it home with no more trouble. Mom's window was still dark. I eased inside, locked the door, and tiptoed upstairs to bed.
I didn't sleep, though. I lay there wondering where Ra was. It had been awful to know that he was always chained outside, lying in the dirt no matter what the weather was, but it was worse not to know where he was or what was happening to him. I was certain the collie had tried to alert me to a problem. There was no other explanation. But I didn't know what the difficulty was or what to do about it.
If Ra had somehow escaped, it might be a good thing. Maybe he would be picked up and turned in to the Humane Society and I could talk Mom into letting me adopt him. That way he'd be my dog legally. Still, I didn't like the idea of Ra being loose. He could get hit by a car or get lost or have lots of other bad things happen to him.
There was still the possibility that he had not broken free of his chain but was in the house with those angry people. I remembered Andrew saying, “Someone's been mean to that dog,” and I felt as if I might throw up.
I called Andrew the next morning. “Ra's missing,” I said, and told him what had happened. “We need to get over there as soon as we can. If he isn't there, we can report him as a lost dog, and we can go to the shelter and look to see if anyone has brought him there.”
“I can't do it today,” Andrew said. “It's my grandpa's birthday, and I'm spending the day at my grandparents' house. I was going to call you and tell you I can't come this afternoon.”
“I'll go by myself,” I said.
“Let me know if you find him,” Andrew said. “I wish I could go with you but my parents made it clear that the whole family is going today for Grandpa's birthday. My presence is requested, required, and rewarded.”
“Rewarded? What's your reward for going?”
“I'm allowed to continue living with my parents. Actually, I want to go to Grandpa's birthday party, although I wish I could go with you, too. Maybe Ra will be there. Maybe his owner took him inside last night.”
I wasn't sure which would be worseâhaving Ra lost or having him inside with the angry voices.
I couldn't wait until late afternoon when I usually fed Ra. I went as soon as I finished talking to Andrew. I told Mom I was going out for a bike ride, and then I pedaled straight to Ra's house.
I spotted him from a block away, lying in the dirt in his usual place. I had not been aware that I was holding my breath as I turned onto Ra's street, but when I saw him my breath blew out in relief. The collie's ghost lay beside him. It was the first time I'd seen the dog ghost lying down. I wondered if the ghost made Ra feel cold.
Ra did not get up when I got off my bike, even though he saw me.
The house was quiet. The two cars that had been parked in the driveway the night before were gone. I hoped it was early enough that Ra's owner might still be sleeping.
When I went toward Ra, the collie's ghost stood and moved away, but Ra stayed where he was. I knelt beside him. He kept his snout on his front paws. I took a dog biscuit out of my pocket and offered it to him. He didn't take it. Whatever had happened to Ra the night before, it had left him lethargic and uninterested even in food.
I gently slid my hands down his sides. When my fingers touched his haunch, he whimpered. My hand jerked away. “I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”
But someone else
had
hurt him. I knew that, deep in my bones, even though I didn't have what the sheriff 's department would consider proof. Last night, something bad had happened to Ra.
I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to rescue Ra before he got hurt again.
“Tomorrow,” I told him. “I have to wait until Andrew's here to help me, but tomorrow we'll take you away from here. I promise.”
Ra did not respond. Much as I wanted to stay with him, I couldn't take a chance of being seen. I left him lying in the dirt and climbed on my bike. The collie's ghost lay back down next to Ra.
As soon as I got home, I sent Andrew an urgent e-mail:
Must rescue Ra tomorrow.
Sometimes he checked e-mail from his grandpa's computer. I wished I could text him because he'd get a text message instantly, but Mom refused to pay the extra monthly fee for text messaging.
I spent most of the day fretting. What if Ra still couldn't stand up when Andrew and I were ready to take him? He was too big for us to carry him. He probably needed to be seen by a veterinarian. How would we manage that without telling anyone that we had a dog?
I called the sheriff 's department again and asked for Heidi Kellogg. I got her voice mail, which said she'd be back in the office on Monday. I didn't want to leave a message, so I dialed again and talked to the person who answered.
“I want to report a dog that's been mistreated,” I said. Then, before I was asked, I gave the address. “I have pictures, one taken every afternoon last week, that show he was kept chained up with no food or water,” I said. “Today he acts as if he's hurt, like maybe somebody hit him or kicked him or something.”
“Did you witness the abuse?”
“I didn't see anyone hit the dog, but I know it happened.”
“What is your name, please?” the man asked.
“IâuhâI don't want to give my name,” I said.
“Anonymous complaints are never given as much credence as those where we can check back with the complainant,” he said. “Is this Pat Larson?”
After a second of stunned silence at hearing my mom's name, I realized that the sheriff 's department would have caller ID. He knew what telephone number I was calling from.
“Pat Larson is my mom,” I said, “but she'd take away my allowance for a year if she knew I was calling you, so please don't tell her.”
The man's voice softened. “I'll have someone check on the dog,” he said, “but it's difficult to prosecute a cruelty case without an eyewitness.” I was pretty sure Andrew was right, and this wouldn't be top priority on this man's to-do list. Probably he would pass my message along to Heidi Kellogg.
After I hung up I wished I hadn't called. I really didn't want the sheriff or anyone else to go get Ra. I wanted to rescue him myself. I wanted to bring him home and take care of him and know he was safe.
I wished we'd gone back with the leash on Friday, after Ra let us pet him. We could have rescued him right then, instead of waiting. At the time we had agreed we should wait another few days, to be sure that Ra would go with us on the leash. If we'd known what was going to happen Saturday night, we would never have waited.
Well,
I told myself,
there's no sense second-guessing yourself now. The important thing is to get Ra away from there as fast as possible. A rapid, remarkable rescue.
I went back again late in the afternoon, at the usual time, taking Ra's food and water. As I rode my bike toward Ra's street, I thought,
what if he's gone again?
What if he's not on the chain? What if he's inside? Would I have the courage to knock on that door?
Ra was there. He stood when he saw me, moving slowly as if it hurt to put weight on his legs. He acted hungry but ate only half his food, then lapped a little water.
At least he's standing now,
I thought.
He has to be able to walk from here to the fort tomorrow. We have no other way to get him there.
Andrew called as soon as he got home from his grandparents' house. He was as outraged as I was over Ra's condition. “Crummy, cruel clod,” he said.
We whispered into the phone, making our plans for the next day. As soon as Ra finished eating, I would unclip the chain and remove the metal choke collar. Next we'd buckle the soft new sun collar around his neck and snap the leash on. Then we would lead Ra away from his captor and into his happy new life.
Thinking about it in bed that night, I had so much excited, nervous energy that I felt I might explode. My thoughts bounced up like popcorn in a microwave. What if someone saw us? What if Ra got scared and bolted and we couldn't control him? What if he howled at night because he didn't like to be alone in the fort, and Mom heard him? All the things that could possibly go wrong raced through my mind.
I never considered backing out of our plan, though. I couldn't let my dog spend his life hungry, afraid, and chained to that tree. I couldn't let him spend another night inside Mean Man's house. If Andrew and I didn't save Ra, who would? Tomorrow, Ra would be mine for real, not just in my mind.
CHAPTER SIX
I
was late to school on Monday because I had an appointment at the orthodontist. Mom dropped me off at school afterward. As I crossed the entry hall and started to turn the corner toward the office with my signed excuse, I saw Gerald next to the bin where we were collecting supplies for the puppy mill dogs. He was bent over the bin, with both hands inside it. I stepped back, then peered around the corner, watching him.
When he stood up he had a can of dog food in each hand. He stuffed the cans in his backpack, then reached into the bin again. My jaw dropped. Gerald was stealing the donated dog food!
I burst around the corner and hurried toward him. “Hey! ” I yelled. “Get away from there!”
Gerald quickly straightened up and turned to face me. He had a fake grin on his face. “What?” he asked, all innocent.
“Put back the dog food you stole,” I said.
“I didn't steal anything.”
“Yes, you did! I saw you take two cans out of the bin and put them in your backpack.”
Mrs. Vargus, who works in the school office, came into the hall. “What's going on here?” she asked.
“He's stealing dog food out of the donation bin,” I said.
“I was putting dog food
in
,” Gerald said.
“I saw him! He was bent over, with his hands in the bin, and then he stood up and put two cans in his backpack.”
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Gerald said. “I brought dog food with me, and I'm donating it.”
Mrs. Vargus looked at Gerald and then back at me. “This is a serious accusation, Rusty,” she said. “Are you sure you want to make it?”
I thought of the consequences of being a tattletale. I realized that, just as I had no proof that Ra was mistreated, I had no proof that Gerald had stolen the dog food. It was my word against his. But I was too angry to back down.
“Look in his backpack, if you don't believe me,” I said. “You'll find the two cans I saw him take.”
“You'll find the cans I hadn't dropped in the bin yet,” Gerald said.
Mrs. Vargus sighed. “I think you both need to talk to Mr. Burbank,” she said. As we followed Mrs. Vargus toward the principal's office, Gerald whispered, “You're going to regret this.”
Mrs. Vargus pointed to a row of chairs outside the principal's office. “Wait here,” she said.
While we waited, I glared at Gerald. “Stealing donated dog food that's meant for mistreated animals is about as low as it gets,” I said.
“You don't know half as much about this as you think you do,” he replied.
“What is there to know? I caught you stealing, and now you're lying about it.”
Before Gerald could respond, Mr. Burbank called me into his office and had me tell my version of what had happened. Then he had me wait while he talked alone with Gerald. At the end of that, he talked to both of us together.
“There is no way for me to know for certain which of you is telling the truth. Rusty, I see no reason why you would make up such a story, but you can't prove it, either. Gerald, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. I want you both to go to class now, and I trust that there will be no more incidents regarding stolen dog food.” He looked at me. “Also, there will be no discussion of this with your classmates.”