Dog Whisperer (10 page)

It must be pretty interesting to run a store, and get to know all kinds of things about the customers. Emily was pretty sure that Cyril had never sold tofu, until she became a vegetarian and her parents started buying it all the time. He probably stocked lots of special items like that, catering to specific people.

“I don't care for the woman,” he said, as he packed up the bags, “but tell her that while she's laid up, if she calls in orders, I'll make sure they're delivered.”

Emily liked to think that if their positions were reversed, Mrs. Griswold would do the same for Cyril—but, she kind of doubted it. On the other hand, although Emily had been too young to remember it, Mrs. Griswold had once been the mayor of Bailey's Cove for many years. So, at some point, she must have been friendly, and maybe even
nice
—although it was hard to imagine. After her husband died, she had resigned from her position, although Emily didn't know the details.

Once they were at Mrs. Griswold's house, Emily's mother parked as close to the front door as possible. Then, she set up the walker, and Mrs. Griswold eased herself painfully out of the car.

“Do you need help?” Emily asked.

“I can do it,” Mrs. Griswold said snappishly.

Emily's mother instantly narrowed her eyes at Mrs. Griswold, who looked uneasy.

“I'm sorry, Emily,” Mrs. Griswold said. “It is painful, and that makes me ornery.”

“Don't worry, that's what I figured,” Emily said, before she could stop herself. “Because you're like,
never
ornery.”

“Emily!” her mother said sharply. “That's very rude of you. Please apologize right now.”

Mrs. Griswold laughed. “Not untrue, though.” She glanced at Emily. “I'll stop calling him ‘that dog.' ”

Mrs. Griswold might be a seriously cranky and unfriendly lady—but, she wasn't stupid.

“Thanks,” Emily said. “And I'm sorry that I was, um, you know, snarky.”

“Consider us even,” Mrs. Griswold said.

It took a little while to get Mrs. Griswold into the house and on her new couch, and Emily's mother fixed her some tea and a snack. She also made sure that Mrs. Griswold would be able to get around on her walker, and be able to take care of herself. Apparently, she had grumpily agreed to let a visiting nurse come by the house once a day, while she was recuperating, but she would still be on her own most of the time. So, Emily's mother was very worried about her.

Finally, though, they were back out in the car. Her mother let out a big sigh, before she started the engine.

“Mrs. Griswold sure seems to make things a lot harder than they need to be,” Emily said.

Her mother nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Do you think she likes to be that way?” Emily asked. “That it makes her happy?”

Her mother sighed again. “Not even a little bit,” she said.

*   *   *

Emily's father was finally off his crutches, and just using a walking boot on his left foot, so he was the one who picked her up from school the next day. It was his night to cook, which always made him anxious and full of self-doubt—and Emily was relieved when he suggested that she take Zachary for a walk, so that he could think about his plans for supper.

She called Bobby, and he agreed to meet her at the gnarled oak tree near the road to the bridge. He must have run all the way, because he got there before she and Zack did.

“Think we'll see the ghost?” he asked eagerly, when he saw her. He held up his digital camera. “If we
do
, I can get evidence.”

“Or maybe all of the photos will be blank,” Emily pointed out.

Bobby looked excited. “That would be even
more
cool!”

So, they walked down the road to the bridge, staying well to the side. Only two cars passed them, each of them being driven by people they knew, so they all exchanged waves.

“I looked on the Internet last night,” Bobby said, “but I couldn't find anything out about ghosts around here. Except for lost sea captains, and settlers, and Native Americans, and soldiers from the Revolutionary War, and people who died from scarlet fever, and stuff like that.”

Emily laughed. “That sounds like a lot of ghosts!”

“Well, yeah,” Bobby agreed, “but none of them would have been shopping at places like L.L. Bean.”

No, ghosts like that would be wearing homemade clothes, or uniforms, or deerskins and leggings and all.

Zachary ambled pleasantly along, not seeming to think that anything about their walk was at all unusual. He was interested in seagulls, and chipmunks, and part of a hamburger someone must have tossed out a car window, but that was about it.

Emily paid very close attention to him as they approached the bridge. After all, he had been the one who was alert last time, and had made it clear that he wanted her to follow him down to the rocks. So, she would just follow his lead here, and trust that he would know exactly what to do.

Every evening, as the sun started to go down, the fog would usually start rolling in from the bay. Emily had always thought that it was really pretty, but right now, the fog looked sort of ominous and made the air feel chilly.

Was that a bad sign—or just a coincidence?

“Wait, there it is!” Bobby gasped, and pointed ahead of them.

Emily could see a tall, shadowy shape standing up on the bridge.

It must be the ghost!

 

11

Then, the fog cleared a little, and Emily saw that it was just Mr. Washburn, who lived about half a mile down the road. Mr. Washburn was a retired professor who spent most of his free time fishing—when he wasn't hanging out and drinking coffee at the Mini-Mart.

“Afternoon, kids!” Mr. Washburn called.

“Oh,” Bobby said, and looked disappointed. “I mean, hi, Mr. Washburn.”

Mr. Washburn was leaning against the bridge with his fishing pole in both hands, as he cast his line.

Zachary wagged his tail, and nosed at the big red plastic bucket next to Mr. Washburn. Emily could smell fish, but the scent was so incredibly strong that she assumed it was Zack's sensation, not her own. It must be pretty intense to have such a strong sense of smell all the time! Emily wasn't sure if she would like it.

“Have you caught much?” she asked.

Mr. Washburn shook his head. “Enough to cook up for some supper, maybe, but that's about it. Been pretty quiet out here.” He grinned. “Of course, it's really
always
quiet around here.”

Emily knew Bobby was dying to ask if Mr. Washburn had seen anything ghostly, but was managing to keep the words inside—so far.

But, that didn't last long.

“See anything weird today?” Bobby asked.

“Well, Mrs. Carleton drove by earlier wearing a
very
unfortunate hat,” Mr. Washburn said.

Bobby's face fell. “That isn't all that weird.”

Mr. Washburn winked at him. “You didn't see the hat, Bobby.”

Zachary tugged her towards the rocks, and Emily let him lead her over there. Maybe he could see the ghost, and she couldn't this time? That seemed like a possibility. So, she would do her best to keep her mind very open to him, and try to pick up on his signals. But then, Zack just sniffed casually at the rocks, climbed around for a few minutes, and then pulled her back up to the road.

“Maybe the ghost is hiding, so that Mr. Washburn won't see him,” Bobby whispered.

Maybe, yeah. Emily nodded.

They hung around for a while, but it seemed as though the bridge was just—an ordinary bridge. Nothing special, nothing unusual, nothing
haunted
. There were seagulls, and occasional passing boats, and gentle waves lapping against the rocks—but, that was it.

After Mr. Washburn caught one more fish, he deposited it into his bucket and began to pack up his gear.

“See you later!” he said, and waved a cheerful good-bye as he headed towards his house.

Emily and Bobby waved back.

“Maybe now, since the coast is clear, the ghost will come out,” Bobby said.

Emily nodded. “I hope so. Maybe ghosts don't like to be around grown-ups?”

“Yeah, he'll definitely come out
now
,” Bobby said confidently.

They waited, and waited, and
waited
—but, nothing happened.

A car or pickup truck would drive by once in a while, seagulls swooped around and cawed at each other, and the waves washed back and forth across the rocks. The most exciting thing that happened was that Zack found a piece of driftwood, and walked around in circles, carrying it happily in his mouth and tossing it up in the air every so often. But, that was it.

They both jumped when Emily's cell phone suddenly rang, although it was just her father, saying that she had been gone for quite a while, and that it was time to come home. Bobby's mother called Bobby about a minute later, and said almost the exact same thing.

“Guess we'd better get going,” Bobby said. “Maybe the ghost only comes out once a year, or something like that. Like the moon and stars have to be aligned just right, maybe?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. Or maybe it was a real person, and my father couldn't see him, because his glasses were fogged up, or he wasn't paying much attention.”

Bobby nodded, too, and they walked along glumly.

“I was really hoping we'd see it,” Bobby said.

To her surprise, Emily realized that she agreed with him. “Me, too,” she said.

*   *   *

When she thought about it later, though, she was glad that it hadn't been a ghost, after all. Just being able to communicate with Zachary in a unique way was important and exciting. She really didn't need to be able to communicate with mysterious spirits, too. Her life was already complicated enough.

So, when she was walking Zack a couple of days later, and they ended up heading down the road towards the bridge, she didn't give it that much thought. In a small town, there were a limited number of directions she could walk in, and going over to the bridge was as good an idea as any other.

It was a very cloudy afternoon, and looked like it might rain soon. But, so far, she had only felt a sprinkle here and there. If it actually started raining, she and Zack would probably be able to make it home before they got completely soaked, as long as they hurried.

The closer they got to the bridge, the more eager Zack seemed. He kept wagging his tail, and looking up at her, practically dancing with excitement.

“He's there, isn't he?” Emily said.

Zack barked.

Which sounded a lot like a yes.

It wasn't too late to turn around, and she was tempted to do it, but Zack was moving forward with obvious determination.

“If he turns out to be scary,” Emily said, “I am going to blame you.”

Zack just wagged his tail.

The bridge seemed pretty deserted today, maybe because the weather wasn't very good. No one was fishing, there weren't any cars driving by, and there didn't even seem to be any seagulls around. But, somehow, Emily wasn't surprised to see the same man by himself on the rocks.

Zachary barked a greeting, and the man looked up. Emily raised her hand to wave a tentative hello, and the man lifted his hand even more tentatively in return. He walked towards them, although it seemed almost as though he was
gliding
across the rocks.

He stopped about ten feet away from them, and they looked at each other.

“Uh, hi,” Emily said.

The man nodded gravely. “Hello.”

Zack didn't seem to think that any of this was at all unusual, and he sat down, raising his paw in a friendly way.

“That is a fine dog,” the man said.

Emily nodded, since she certainly agreed with
that
.

“Why can you see me, when no one else can?” the man asked. “I've been trying to make contact for such a very long time.”

Emily shrugged. “I don't know. I think it's because my dog can see you, and that makes it so that I can, too.”

The elderly man frowned. “That is very strange.”

“Very strange” was an understatement.

“Is this where you always are?” Emily asked.

There was a long pause.

“It's complicated,” he said.

Well,
yeah
. “My friend and I were down here the other day, but you weren't here,” Emily said. “Or were you—I don't know—invisible?”

There was another pause.

“It is complicated,” he said.

That didn't answer her question, but he pretty obviously didn't
want
to answer it, or give her any details.

The only thing she could tell for sure was that Zack really
liked
the ghost, and wanted to be his friend. He kept going over to him with his tail wagging, and his head cocked to the side, waiting for a response.

“I have missed dogs very much,” the man said, bending down to pat Zack. His hands looked as though they were partially transparent, but Zack seemed to be able to feel it, anyway.

That gave her a pretty good opening, then, to continue the conversation. “Did you have pets?” Emily asked.

He nodded. “Yes, and I miss my Marigold the most. She was a wonderful dog. But, she has also been gone for a very long time.”

Okay, that totally wrecked one of the things she had always assumed happened during an afterlife. “You don't get to see her?” Emily asked. “I mean, um, where you are?”

Wherever
that
was.

He shook his head wistfully. “She moved on, at once. Animals have very beautiful souls.”

It was still very disappointing. “I always thought that if something happened to you, your animals were supposed to be there waiting for you,” Emily said.

“And so she is,” he said. “As are many others. But, I must finish my work, first.”