Dog Heaven (11 page)

“Sure … I mean, yes, sir, Mr. Purdy, sir.”

Mr. Purdy shook his head and drew another name. “Shayla.”

Shayla’s revision got her a pat on the shoulder. Willy’s was pretty good. Julio’s got a big star, which Mr. Purdy drew on the whiteboard. Maya did okay, too.

Mr. Purdy glanced at the clock. “Time for one more.”

I closed my eyes. Not me, not me, not me, not me.

“Calvin Coconut.”

“U
h … me?”

Mr. Purdy waited.

I unfolded my essay. I’d totally rewritten it, now that I knew about Streak. “Can it be a revision even if you change everything, Mr. Purdy? I mean, to make it better?”

That got me a big grin. “Bingo, Mr. Coconut, I believe you’re getting the point.”

“I am?”

“Look.” Mr. Purdy went to the whiteboard and wrote
Revision
. “What’s this word?”

“Revision.”

“Correct. Now, what’s this one?” Underneath it Mr. Purdy wrote
Re-Vision
.

“Revision … but with a line in it.”

“A line?”

“Uh … a hyphen?”

“A hyphen. Thank you. So. When you wrote your first draft you had a
vision
of what you wanted to say. Then you thought about how to make it better, right?”

I nodded.

“You looked at it in a new way. You rethought your initial vision to make it better. Re-vision. So let’s see how your revision strengthened your first draft.”

For a second I panicked. Strengthened?

I started reading: “There’s … uh, there’s this small black and white dog with wild eyes and a short attention span.”

Everyone laughed.

Mr. Purdy nodded to go on.

“She lives at the Humane Society. Someone drove her up to the mountains and dumped her. She’s one year old and she’s the fastest dog I’ve ever seen. I call her Streak. When I met her she was in like a cement jail cell. She came over and licked my fingers and leaned against my hand.

She was warm. I only know two things for sure. The first is, she needs a real home, because it stinks where she is.”

The class thought that was hilarious.

“Go on,” Mr. Purdy said, smiling.

“The second is, she … she needs a friend. Someone like me.”

I stared at my paper.

The room was quiet.

Even Manly Stanley waited to see who would speak first.

“A-plus, Mr. Coconut,” Mr. Purdy said softly. “A-plus.”

L
edward might get his best ideas crouching over a hibachi, but I get mine lying on my bunk and looking out my window.

“Yes!” I whispered to no one.

I rolled over onto my back and smiled up at Spidey, still motionless in his web above my head. I was so excited I felt twitchy. My new
idea was to try my A-plus revision out on Mom like before, only this time I would say it. I would make it sound like I was just talking.

I practiced all afternoon.

Mom, guess what, I saw this small black and white dog with wild eyes and a short attention span.…

Ho, yeah! This was going to be great!

By the time we were all sitting around the dinner table, I was as nervous as a mouse. I wished Ledward was here.

I waited for just the right moment.

Mom said, “Any mail today, Stella?”

“Just some junk mail.”

“Nothing from your mom?”

“I think she might have lost her pen.”

Mom reached over and covered Stella’s hand with her own. “One day you’ll get five letters all at once, just wait.”

“I doubt that.”

We ate in silence.

Do it, I thought.

I opened and closed my mouth. But all those revised words didn’t want to pour out. I tried to stop my leg from bouncing.

Mom turned to me. “So, Calvin. How did your day go?”

“Well … uh …”

Stella smirked.

Just
do
it!

I leaned back, put my hands behind my head. Make it casual. Make it like you just thought of it.

Actually, I thought of something else. “My day was good, Mom. And, uh, did you see I cleaned up my room?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I’m going to keep it clean, too.”

Mom raised her eyebrows.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, Mom? Have you ever seen Ledward’s pig?”

Mom studied me a moment. “Have you?”

Ooops.

Stella spilled the beans. “Ledward took him and Darci to his house.”

“Really.” Mom looked at Stella, waiting for more.

Stella shrugged. “That’s all I know.”

“Was it wrong?” I asked. “I mean, to go there?”

“No, Calvin, it wasn’t wrong. I just … well, I wanted a little more time to pass before you got … you know … more personal with … with Ledward.”

“I like Ledward.”

Mom smiled. “And so do I, Calvin. So. What about his pig?”

“It rides in his jeep,” Darci said.

“It does?”

“In the front. With a seat belt.”

Stella nearly choked on her food. “You have
got
to be kidding.”

I had to get this conversation back on track. “No, it’s true. Ledward’s pig is just like a … uh … just like a dog I know … a small black and white one with … with wild eyes and a short attention span.”

Mom studied me.

Stella threw her head back and roared.

I looked at her. What was so funny?