Dog Heaven (14 page)

Frankie Diamond was heading our way. Behind him, his idiot friends Bozo and Tito jeered from the shade of a giant monkeypod tree. “Watch out, Frankie. You go by them you might get ’ukus! Bwahahahahaha!”

Frankie kept on coming.

Willy whispered, “What’s ’ukus?”

“Cooties,” Maya said. “Head lice.”

“We got head lice?” Rubin asked.

Julio scoffed. “Not me, but maybe you.”

“Shhh, Frankie’s coming.”

Frankie Diamond stood at the bottom of the jungle gym. He looked up at me, his hands on his hips. “So, you got that dog, or what?”

“Yeah! I did!”

Frankie Diamond nodded. “Cool. It was a good one.”

“The best ever.”

“Maybe sometime I come your house and check it out.”

“Uh … yeah, sure … anytime.”

Frankie nodded, once. He watched Rubin scratch his head. “You got ’ukus, or what?”

“No,” Rubin said.

Frankie studied him a moment, then headed back over to the fools under the monkeypod tree.

Julio whistled, low. “That was strange.”

I nodded.

“So,” Maya said. “Is your mom going to let you keep Streak?”

I grinned. “If I don’t let her in the house.”

But still, I was worried.

Stella hadn’t been exactly thrilled, even when Mom promised her that Streak would never come in the house. Stella could still make a big stink and blow it all up. If she did, Streak would have to go.

Rubin kept scratching his head. “What do you do with the dog while you’re in school?”

“Leave her in the backyard. It’s fenced.”

I couldn’t wait to get home. Streak and I had places to go! Me and my dog, cruising the neighborhood. Yeah!

Rubin scratched and scratched. Did he really have ’ukus? Were they like fleas? Did they jump from one head to another?

“I got an idea!” I said to Julio, Willy, and Maya. “Let’s take Rubin over by Frankie and Tito so he can scratch his ’ukus. I bet they run away.”

“Or kill us,” Julio said.

“No, we just pretend to go by … close.”

Rubin frowned … then grinned. “I got a better idea. How’s about all of us go over there scratching?”

“Watch um run,” I said.

We climbed down and headed over. I don’t know how we suddenly got so brave, but it was hilarious to watch Frankie, Bozo, and Tito scramble away from us. We didn’t even have to say a word.

T
hat night Ledward came over with a fat stinky fish head for Streak to gnaw on. Streak snapped it out of Ledward’s hand and carried it out into the yard, where she plopped down and ripped into it.

Mom winced and headed back into the house. “That’s disgusting.”

Ledward followed her. “Fish heads are good. They got a lot of vitamins, especially the eye.”

“Can we change the subject?”

I crept closer to Streak for a better look at the fish head. It was shiny silver. It had a big eye. “Watch out for bones,” I whispered. Mom always said that when we ate fish.

Streak thumped her tail.

Ledward stood over us. “I brought fresh ahi.”

Ahi is tuna, and when Ledward cooks it on the hibachi with lemon and butter, there’s nothing better. Except teriyaki meat sticks. Nothing beats that.

“Did the head come from that fish, Ledward?”

“Yep. Go start the fire.”

I went out on the patio and got the hibachi going. As I was poking at the coals with a stick, Streak showed up. Her breath smelled like a garbage dump.

“Ho, man, you stink!”

She licked her lips. I pulled her close. Streak and my dad’s dog Chewy in Las Vegas would probably go head to head over food.

They were both professional eaters. Dinner comes. Boom! It’s gone.

Ledward came out with a stack of ahi steaks. Streak’s ears shot forward when Ledward laid the steaks on the sizzling hibachi and painted them with melted butter.

Ledward chuckled. “Look the dog. Still hungry.”

“You should bring your pig over sometime. Let him play with Streak.”

Ledward nodded. “That would be interesting.”

We watched the fire.

I glanced back when the screen door slid open.

Stella’s eyes were pinned on Streak. When Streak didn’t get up to go jump all over her,
she came out and eased the door shut behind her. “Smells good.”

Ledward painted more butter on the ahi. “Fresh from the ocean today.”

Streak was locked on the hibachi like a shark on blood.

Stella looked at me and said, “I just wanted to say your dog isn’t so bad. I mean, it doesn’t make my eyes get puffy. If it stays outside.”

Was this a trick?

Stella looked up at the sky. “Nice night.”

I followed her gaze.

“It’s just … well … it’s just that you wanted it so badly,” she added, still looking at the sky.

Huh?

“Anyway,” Stella said. “Keep that fleabag out of my room.”

She went back into the house.

I turned to Ledward.

He grunted. “She just told you the dog can stay.”

“She did?”

“Long as you keep it out of the house.”

We tapped fists. We did it!

Before I fell asleep that night, I heard Ledward roll the lawn mower out of the garage. It was pitch-black out. Streak was curled up on the bunk under me.

I turned over and looked out the window. I could see Ledward’s shadow in the driveway, bending over the lawn mower.

He pulled the cord.

Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

It started! And stayed started.

Ledward let it run for thirty seconds or so and shut it down. “You hear that, boy?” he called through the screen.

“It works.”

“Now you can mow the lawn and I can go home.”

Ledward rolled the lawn mower back into the garage, came back out, and stood by my window. “That dog in there with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night. Ledward?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll cut the grass.”

Ledward chuckled, then started up his jeep. He gave the horn a short toot and drove off.

I listened as the sound of the engine got
smaller and smaller and all I could hear were the toads croaking down by the river.

And Streak.

Snoring on the bunk below me.