Dog Whisperer (8 page)

But then, finally, when they were halfway back to Portland, their luck changed.

“There we go!” Cara said triumphantly. “Look starboard, everyone!”

Since most Mainers knew a lot about boats, they all immediately focused on the water on the right side of the boat. The tourists and her grandparents weren't sure where to look—but, they caught on pretty quickly.

There were two whales cavorting out in the waves, and although part of her wanted to be a jaded local, Emily thought that that was
beyond
cool. They both even spouted little bursts of water from the tops of their heads, just the way they were supposed to breathe. In fact, it was almost as if they did it on cue!

Everyone was taking photos like crazy, but after one quick shot, Emily decided that it would be more fun just to enjoy watching them. She had always thought that the problem with cameras was that it was too easy to get all caught up behind the lens, and forget to have an actual
experience
.

“Pretty excellent,” Karen said, standing next to her at the boat railing.

Emily nodded. “Yeah, we really lucked out. They're a lot bigger than I thought they'd be.”

Captain Bill steered them in a few big circles, so that they could watch the whales for a while. Then, they resumed their steady chug back towards the docks.

Their guides looked visibly relieved when they also passed some seals sunning themselves on a rocky outcropping, and then saw a large sea turtle swimming by the boat. The cruise out to the island, with nothing but the occasional passing seagull, had made them extremely nervous, as far as Emily could tell. Her father had told her that the people who ran the tours had special sonar machines on the boat, to try and figure out where whales might be, but they had certainly come up empty during the first part of the trip.

Once they were back in Portland, they waited until all of her friends had been picked up by their parents, before they headed home themselves.

Her grandfather smiled at her. “That was fun, wasn't it?”

Emily nodded. “It was great! Just right for a birthday.” She glanced at her parents since, obviously, they had paid for everything. “Thank you. I really enjoyed it.”

“And I liked most of your friends,” her grandmother said.

Emily laughed. “Do I want to know which ones you didn't like?”

Her grandmother blushed, since she probably hadn't meant to be quite that direct. “I don't think so, no.”

“It was a nice way to spend a day,” her father said. “We probably should have gone on one of those cruises years ago.”

Emily nodded, since she completely agreed—and she hoped that they would go on another cruise sometime.

The only thing that would have made the day absolutely perfect would have been if Zachary and Josephine could have come along, too!

*   *   *

The next day was the Bailey's Cove Annual Kayak Races, and her mother was participating in the Women's Open category. She was a very serious kayaker, and belonged to two different local kayak clubs. She always got pretty keyed up before races, and she had been practicing even more than usual, lately. Most mornings, she got up long before Emily or her father did, and returned from her dawn workout around the time Emily was wandering sleepily downstairs to let Zack out and have some breakfast.

So, after a late lunch, they drove down to the big bridge—there were three different bridges in town, each of which connected a small island to the mainland—to watch the races. Emily cheered loudly when they saw her vet, Dr. K., win his age group, and come streaking under the bridge to the finish line, just about a foot ahead of the person behind him.

The races were fun and all, but after a while, staring down at the stream of kayaks started to get boring. Her mother's category wasn't likely to show up for at least another half hour, or maybe even longer.

“Dad, is it okay if Zack and I walk around a little?” she asked.

He nodded, fooling around with his tripod, since he had brought his big DSLR and his best lens to photograph the races. He was mostly just using a walking boot now, instead of his crutches, so he was having a much easier time getting around. “Sure. But, be careful, and don't go too far, all right?”

“We'll be right over there,” Emily said, and pointed off to the side.

Her grandfather was busily playing around with the Flip camera, and her grandmother was having a long conversation with Bobby's Aunt Martha—who was a lobster boat captain, and always had great stories to tell. So, Emily figured they were both having a good time, and wouldn't mind if she wandered away for a while.

Zack was looking down at the rocks below the bridge and wagging his tail in a very friendly way. Emily assumed that someone they knew was standing over there, possibly doing some fishing, or trying to get a closer look at the races. But, when she looked over, she saw an unfamiliar elderly man.

He was tall, with stooped shoulders and grey hair, and his face looked as though he spent a lot of time outdoors. He had a gentle expression, although there was something very lonely about the way he was standing by himself on the rocks, staring out at nothing.

She didn't think it was at all cold out, but the man was wearing work boots, dark wool pants, and a heavy plaid barn coat, with a white turtleneck on underneath. He seemed to be talking to himself, which made her suspicious, but Zack was still swinging his tail happily back and forth. Obviously, she trusted Zack's instincts—but she checked over her shoulder, just in case, to make sure that her father and grandparents weren't too far away.

“Hi,” Emily said. “Pretty good race, isn't it?”

The man jumped. In fact, he almost seemed to
levitate
! “Are you talking to me?”

Well—who else? Emily took an uneasy step backwards, wondering why he looked so very pale. “Um, sorry. My dog just wanted to stretch his legs a little. We didn't mean to bother you.”

He was looking at her as though she were some kind of alien being—which she thought was pretty offensive. It wasn't as though she was the
only
African-American person in Maine. She started to turn and walk away, but Zack sat directly in front of the man and lifted his paw.

To Emily's annoyance, the man stared at Zack as though
he
were an alien, too.

Of course, to be fair, he could just be afraid of dogs, maybe. But, it was hard to imagine anyone being afraid of a dog as sweet and friendly as Zack.

“You can see me?” the grey-haired man asked, still seeming completely unnerved.

It wasn't really unusual to run into someone kind of eccentric in Maine, but this man seemed to be a lot more weird than the average crusty New Englander. Emily checked over her shoulder again, relieved to see that her father was still only about thirty feet away. He was kind of distracted, since he was leaning over the edge of the bridge with his camera, taking shots of brightly colored kayaks zipping through the water. But, if she called him, she knew he would immediately hurry over.

“What do you see?” the elderly man asked urgently.

He was
much
too strange, and she was really starting to get the creeps from this conversation. “I'm sorry, we have to go now,” Emily said. “My father is right over there waiting for us.”

“It wasn't her fault,” the man said.

Yeah, okay, whatever. Emily nodded politely, edging away from him.

Zack didn't want to cooperate, so she tugged a little harder on his leash.

“She needs to know that,” the man said.

Emily nodded again, humoring him. “Okay. I'm sure it'll all be fine. But, we have to go.” She gave Zack's leash another small yank. “See you around.”

The man looked disappointed, but then, he turned away and started looking off into the distance again.

Emily hurried back to where her father and grandparents were standing, feeling a little chill run up her back. Maybe Zack's judgment had been off this time? Because there was clearly something wrong with that man.

Her father smiled at her. “What were you and Zack doing over there all by yourselves?”

“We were just—” Emily stopped. What did he mean,
all by themselves
? “We were the only ones over there?” she asked.

Her father laughed. “Emily, there are some really good races going on. You've been missing some great finishes.”

Emily glanced over the bridge railing and saw that, indeed, paddlers were still crossing the finish line, and that more categories must have already been completed, because there were a few kayakers standing on the main dock with ribbons and small trophies. Then, she looked back at the rocks, where the older man was still standing all by himself.

“Do you know him, Dad?” Emily asked, pointing.

Her father looked around. “Who?”

Wait, her father couldn't
see
him? Even though the man was right there? “Over on the rocks,” Emily said.

Her father looked around in that general direction, and then shrugged. “Where?”

Oh, wow. Her father really couldn't see him. And the man had been startled that she and Zack could see him.

Whoa.

Double whoa.

Maybe even
triple
whoa.

She stared down at the rocks, trying to absorb all of this. Even though it was a clear and sunny afternoon, the man suddenly seemed to be surrounded by a small cloud of grey mist—and then, he disappeared!

“What's the matter, Emily?” her father asked, sounding very concerned. “You look as though you just saw a ghost.”

She had a terrible, sinking sensation that that was
exactly
what had happened.

It made no sense at all, but she and Zack had apparently just had a conversation—with a real live ghost!

 

9

“Are you all right, Emily?” her grandmother asked.

“Yeah, I—” Emily shook her head to clear it. “Yes, I'm fine.” She was tempted to say, Hey, I just saw a ghost! But, it probably wouldn't go over very well. She looked down at Zack, who seemed cheerful and relaxed, as though he saw ghosts every day and didn't think it was at all unusual.

Whoa, was it possible that he
did
see ghosts every day, and she had just never known about it? If that was true, she
still
didn't want to know about it.

“Hey, here they come!” someone yelled.

Everyone else moved over to the west side of the bridge, to see the contestants in the Women's Open category paddling furiously towards the bridge. Emily picked out her mother right away—the daisy decals on her helmet were a dead giveaway—and saw that she was fighting for first place with two other kayakers.

“Come on, Mom!” Emily yelled. “You can do it!”

She had no idea whether her mother could hear her, but as the kayaks approached the bridge, they all ran to the other side to wait for them to reappear. And when they did, her mother was in the lead!

They all clapped and cheered and yelled encouragement as her mother's kayak sliced swiftly through the water, heading for the finish line.

It was the first time her mother had ever won the annual championship, and it was very exciting to watch her receive her blue ribbon and trophy. She had beaten some
really
good athletes, including a few women who competed in things like marathons and triathlons regularly. Her father took a bunch of rapid-fire photographs, and her grandfather captured everything on the little video camera.

Her mother smiled at her. “What do you think?” she asked, handing over the trophy so that Emily could hold it.

“That was
great
,” Emily said. “
You
were great!”

It was fun to hold a trophy—a real trophy. When Emily had been in the Tiny Tots swimming class, everyone got a trophy, and the same thing happened in her soccer league. It didn't feel as special when a trophy was that easy to get. But, her mother had
earned
this one, by working hard and practicing a lot, and that made it really neat.

They went out for a celebration dinner, and then drove down to the airport so that her grandparents could catch the nine-fifteen flight back to New York.

It had been a great weekend!

*   *   *

It wasn't until Emily had gone to bed, and the lights were out, that she had time to think about the other thing that had happened. It
had
happened, right? Thinking back, it was easy to wonder whether she had been imagining things, or whether her father just hadn't been looking in the right place, or whether the mist which had appeared to swallow the elderly man up was only a gust of unexpected fog.

Could it be possible that ghosts were
real
?! Well, okay,
she
was never going to be able to close her eyes and go to sleep again. They were supposed to be imaginary—not standing right there next to you, having a conversation, like it was totally normal.

Not that she was nervous, but since she sometimes had nightmares, her door was always left open a crack at night, so that she could see the light out in the hall. She got up, and opened it much wider, so that her room was barely dark at all.

Okay, good. That was much less scary. Because she was pretty tired, and she had school tomorrow, and staying awake all night wasn't a good idea.

Not that the elderly man had seemed scary, really. He had mostly just seemed to be very, very sad. And Zack hadn't been scared at all; it had seemed as though Zack
liked
him.

But, Emily's last thought, before she dozed off, was that she
really
hoped that they never ran into him again.

*   *   *

Every weekend, her mother would spend a fair amount of time on the phone, trying to set up after-school plans for the upcoming week with some of her friends' parents. On days when Emily had her painting class after school, or went to an enrichment class or to watch her friends play a soccer game or something, it was much easier. She would usually be finishing up at about the same time one of her parents did, and so, she just got picked up in front of the school.