Dog Heaven (3 page)

“But you’re only writing about it,” Willy said. “You’re not actually
getting
it.”

“Yeah, just writing.”

When Darci and I got home we found Mom’s boyfriend, Ledward, in our driveway. He was hunched over our half-dead lawn mower. It was idling, and gray smoke billowed around him. The noise was as loud as a truck dumping gravel.

The lawn mower gagged, spat, and died as we walked up.

Ledward stood and shook his head. “Grass too long.” He
glanced toward our front yard, which sloped down to the river.

I shrugged. It was too long weeks ago.

Ledward was always telling me I should help Mom out more and mow the lawn, too. But pushing a lawn mower through grass that thick was like trying to ride your bike in soft sand. I hated that job.

Darci went into the house.

Ledward and I stood looking at the grass. The river was rusty brown. My red skiff lay in the swamp grass above the waterline.

“You want me to help you cut it, boy?”

Time to change the subject. “Did you ever have a dog when you were a kid, Ledward?”

“W
ell, now,” Ledward said.

He squatted on his heels and crossed his arms over his knees. I squatted, too, both of us facing the river.

“I had about seven dogs, at various times. No, eight. Counting one that ran away.”

He chuckled. “That one wanted to be his
own boss. These days I have four. But hunting dogs, ah? Not pets.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Sure. Hunting dogs you train to track pigs. They’re scrappy.” He winked at me. “Not good house dogs. Too nervous.”

“I want a dog.”

Ledward nodded. “Every boy should have a dog.”

“Mom won’t let me. Stella’s allergic to cats, and maybe dogs. Her eyes get all puffy.”

Ledward rubbed his chin. “Well … maybe you could keep it in the backyard. Or in your room, keep it out of the house.”

That could work. My room was made of half the garage. It wasn’t really part of the house. Hey, I should put all this in my essay.

“I’m supposed
to write about it for school. I mean, how I want a dog. Mr. Purdy says I have to sell it to him … the idea, not a dog.”

Ledward shook his head and smiled. “Daniel … to you, he’s Mr. Purdy … anyways, he had dogs as a kid, too. He had this one white one that loved mud. Hoo, that was one dirty mutt. All the time, he had to hose him off, all the time.”

Ledward and Mr. Purdy had grown up together. They were friends then and were still friends now.

I lifted my chin toward the river. “If I had a
dirty dog, he could just jump in the water and wash off.”

“Sure.”

Ledward went back to the lawn mower and pulled the cord. Coughs and spits. He tried again. Still nothing.

“Shoot,” he mumbled. He adjusted the choke and tried again. The lawn mower shook, rattled, and went back to sleep. “You don’t use this enough.”

“Yeah, but can you think of a way I can persuade Mr. Purdy that I should have a dog?”

Ledward pushed the lawn mower into the garage. “Just bring up dogs, and boom! You got him. But if you want a for-real dog, it’s not Daniel you need to sell. It’s your mama. That might be tougher than Daniel.”

“Impossible, you mean.”

“If you can’t get a dog, how’s about a parakeet? Or maybe some fish?”

“I like birds and fish, but they don’t care about you. Know what I mean? Dogs do.”

Ledward put his hand on my shoulder, bent down, and whispered, “I got something to show you.” He looked toward the house. “She home, the girl?”

He meant Stella. Ledward always called her
the girl
. Stella’s job was to go to school, and to help Mom, who worked on the other side of the island. Stella’s favorite thing to do was make my life miserable.

“I hope not.”

“Go check. Leave her a note if she’s not. So she won’t worry. Tell her I taking you for a ride. I bring you back before supper. Get Darci. We take her, too.”

“Where?”

“Surprise.”

S
tella wasn’t home yet. Darci was lying on the floor watching cartoons. “Ledward wants to take us somewhere.”

“Where?” she said, not looking away from the TV.

“He said it’s a secret.” I started to write the note.

Darci hit the remote. “Let’s go!”

Ledward started the jeep. I sat in front, and Darci had the whole backseat to herself.

Ledward waited. “Click it or ticket.” We buckled up.

Since the jeep was built before seat belts, Ledward had made some out of army surplus straps. They weren’t pretty, but they did the job.

He drove slowly, taking his time. Hawaiian style.

The old army-green jeep had a friendly growl to it. The breeze swirled in and the heat of the engine warmed my feet. “I like your jeep.”

Ledward looked over at me. “Not many of these still around anymore. Just a few heaps covered by weeds, too far gone to fix. Rust eats the steel.”

“You fixed this one, right?”

Ledward nodded. “Me and my pops. We cleaned it up, kept it in a garage out of the rain.”

“You have a dad?”

Ledward laughed, loud and long. “And a mama, too, by golly. What? You thought I came from a store?”

“What I meant was, I never knew you had a dad. That’s all. I mean, you never said … you …”

That was dumb, I thought, sliding down in my seat.

“S’all right, boy, s’all right.” Ledward tapped my knee. “I only joking with you.”

We drove out of Kailua town and headed inland toward the mountains. I’d known Ledward for almost a year, but really, what did I know about him? Not much.

“Where we going?”

He looked over and winked.

We turned onto a smaller road and headed into a jungle, green and thick.

Darci’s eyes were big as mangoes. “Where are we, Ledward?”

“Maunawili.”

On and on we drove, snaking up the twisty old road. Dirt driveways crept off into the jungle like overgrown paths. If they led to houses, I sure couldn’t tell. But I did see the flash of a silver roof.

Trees branched over the road, blocking the sun. It felt like we were driving into the throat of a whale.

“Almost there,” Ledward said.