News For Dogs (2 page)

There was a blare of horns, a terrible screech of brakes, and shouts of fury from drivers who were swerving all over the road in their frantic efforts to avoid hitting the terrified dog.

“Red!” Bruce shouted. “Get back here!”

It was like reliving a nightmare. Six months ago, when Jerry had hitched Red to a coaster wagon, that wagon had rammed Red’s hind legs and sent him plunging out into the middle of this very street. A car had crushed the wagon as Red tore free of the wreckage and kept on running. Now the same thing was happening again, but this time there was no wagon, just a terror-stricken animal trying to dodge the wheels and fenders of a stream of cars.

“Red!” Bruce shouted again and, without pausing to consider his own safety, raced into the street. This caused even more commotion, as the drivers
were now forced to dodge a boy as well as a dog. A Ford braked so suddenly that the Chevrolet behind it crashed into its rear fender, causing the Ford to leap the curb and end up with both front wheels on the sidewalk.

By now, the horns and the shouts had brought Red Rover to a standstill. His legs seemed to go out from under him, and he sank down onto the street in a quivering heap. It was only when he saw Bruce running toward him, weaving his way through the pileup of halted vehicles, that he was able to stagger to his feet and hurl himself gratefully into the arms of the person he loved best in the world.

Two of the drivers had gotten out of their cars and were headed in Bruce’s direction with grim expressions on their faces. The first was the driver of the Ford. He was followed closely by the driver of the Chevrolet that had hit him. Bruce, who was kneeling in the street with his arms around Red Rover, now could see that the second car had sustained damage also.

“It wasn’t my fault!” the driver of the second car yelled at the driver of the first car. “You slammed on your brakes without signaling!”

“You would have been able to stop if you hadn’t
been tailgating,” the first driver shouted. “The dog and the kid ran straight out in front of me! What did you expect me to do, run over them?”

“Is this your dog?” the second driver demanded of Bruce.

“Yes,” Bruce said, but all of his attention was on Red Rover. He gathered the big dog close and spoke to him soothingly. “Are you okay, fella?”

“That is
not
his dog!” Jerry Gordon called out from the sidewalk. The skateboard had mysteriously vanished, and Jerry appeared to be nothing more than a bystander, out for an innocent stroll. His voice was no longer mean as it had been moments earlier. It had changed completely and now was trembling with indignation.

“Red Rover is mine!” Jerry cried. “That kid stole him from me!”

“He
stole
that dog?” exclaimed the motorist whose car was on the sidewalk. “Then it’s little wonder the poor animal was trying to escape!” He turned to Bruce. “I want your name and address and the names of your parents.”

“So do I!” cried the man who had rear-ended him. “The damage doesn’t appear major enough to get the police involved, but we need to sort this out
so we can deal with our insurance companies.” He went back to his car and returned with paper and a pencil. “I want contact information for your parents,” he said to Bruce. He turned to Jerry. “I’d like contact information for you too, son,” he said in a gentler voice. “You were a witness to what happened, as well as the person from whom this boy stole the setter. Now that I’ve had a close look at him, I’m sure he’s bred to be a show dog. I certainly hope you reported the theft to the authorities.”

“I just want my dog back!” Jerry said in a quavering voice that ended in a sob. His artificial crying was so perfect that, if Bruce hadn’t known better, he might have bought it. Jerry was actually squeezing his lids down over his eyes so hard that he was making real tears come out. Bruce wondered how anybody could do that.

“Red doesn’t belong to Jerry,” he told the two men. “There was a time when he did, but not anymore. Red Rover is mine — or, he will be, when I’ve finished paying for him.”

“Then why don’t you take better care of him?” the second driver bellowed while the first driver shook his head in disbelief. “You lost control of this dog and allowed him to run into traffic. And it
could have been worse than that! You were very, very lucky. You also ran out into traffic, and one of us could have hit you!”

“I had to save Red!” Bruce’s own tears were close to the surface, but he was determined not to let anyone see that. He would not lower himself to behaving like Jerry. Two women, who had been passengers in the cars, had now gotten out to join their husbands and were gathered around Jerry, soothing and comforting him.

“You poor boy!” exclaimed the sweet-faced wife of the driver of the first car. Tears of sympathy were streaming down her own cheeks as she gently stroked Jerry’s hair. “Just as you were trying to reclaim your long-lost puppy dog, you almost lost him again —
under the wheels of our car!”

“That’s not how it happened —” Bruce began, but he let the protest fade off when he realized that no one was listening.

After a second round of questioning and rechecking names and phone numbers, the driver of the Ford carefully backed his car off the sidewalk and it landed in the street with a thump. It appeared to be running fine despite a dent in one of the rear fenders. By the time both drivers finally departed, Bruce
was so filled with fury that he felt like he was going to explode.

“What did you do with your skateboard?” he demanded of Jerry. “How did you get rid of it so fast?”

“It’s over there under those bushes,” Jerry said with a grin.

“I might have known that you’d already picked out a hiding place,” Bruce said.

“I always know what I’m doing, shrimp,” Jerry told him. “I wouldn’t want to be you when those guys call your dad. I bet they’re going to sue you. But even if they don’t, Red Rover’s history. I’m going to get him back, and my cousin’s going to help me.”

“You don’t have a cousin,” Bruce said. “If you did, I’d have heard of him.”

“He’s not from around here,” Jerry said. “Connor lives in Chicago, but he and I are buddies. We e-mail all the time, and he knows all about you. He’s coming to spend the summer as soon as school lets out, and you’d better watch out when he gets here. Nobody messes with Connor. My enemies are
his
enemies.”

“Oh, I’m so scared!” Bruce said sarcastically. “Big, bad Connor! Come on, Red, you and I are out of here.”

He strode off with his back held straight and his shoulders squared in a way that he hoped might add an inch to his height. He gripped Red’s leash as tightly as possible, making sure that the dog was positioned directly in front of him so there was no way that Jerry could get at him. The whir of the wheels of Jerry’s skateboard on the sidewalk behind them was a threatening noise that followed them all the way home.

Bruce didn’t put Red in the backyard as he usually did after a run. Instead, he took him in through the front door and up the stairs to his own bedroom. Once they were safely inside, he shut the door, sat down on his bed, and patted the mattress beside him. Red gazed up at him in astonishment. He knew that he was not allowed on the furniture.

Bruce patted the mattress again.

“Hop up, boy,” he said.

He had already broken one house rule by taking Red into his bedroom, so he figured he had nothing to lose by breaking another. He wanted his dog on the bed where he could lie down next to him and pet him and talk to him and make him feel safe.
Actually, Bruce needed that comfort as much as Red did. He had just been through the most frightening experience of his life, and he knew this was just the beginning. When his father got home from work, life would not be pleasant.

Unable to believe his good fortune, Red heaved himself up onto the mattress. Bruce collapsed against the pillows, stroking the dog’s silky head and watching the shadow of the elm tree outside the bedroom window extend itself slowly across the opposite wall as the sun sank lower in the west. At one point, he heard his father’s car pull into the driveway. Soon after that, he heard the phone ring. He was bracing himself to be summoned when the phone rang a second time.

“Here it comes,” Bruce said softly to Red. He gave the dog one final pat and motioned him to the floor. He got off the bed himself and opened the door, and the two of them went quietly out into the hall.

Andi was poised at the top of the stairwell, eavesdropping.

“I wonder what Dad’s so mad about,” she whispered. She glanced at Bruce and Red and did a
double take. “Did you have Red in your room? Mom will have a fit if she finds out.”

“There’s only one person who can tell her,” Bruce said shortly. “Besides, she’ll have a fit in a few seconds anyway. Wait till Dad’s off the phone.”

“I’m not going to tell,” Andi assured him. “That’s a stupid rule anyway. I sneak Bebe and Friday into my room all the time. I keep them shut in the closet until Mom’s done kissing me good night, and then I let them out to sleep with me. Mom thinks they spend the night in the laundry room.”

“You’re lucky she doesn’t do laundry in the evening,” Bruce said. “What was Dad saying on the phone just now?”

But that question turned out to be unnecessary, as his father was suddenly shouting, “Bruce, come down here!”

“Take Red down the stairs to the kitchen and put him out in the yard,” Bruce whispered urgently to Andi.

“What’s going on?” Andi asked him.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Bruce told her. “And you don’t need to worry about running into Mom in the kitchen. There’s no way she’s still in there cooking; she’s in the living room with Dad.”

“Bruce!” Mr. Walker shouted impatiently.

“I’m coming,” Bruce called back, but he paused long enough to make certain that Andi had a solid grip on Red’s collar and was leading him down the hall to the stairs to the kitchen.

He knew that he was in for it the moment he entered the living room. His father looked both furious and worried, and his mother was seated on the sofa, obviously very upset.

“Is it true that you let Red Rover run out into traffic?” Mr. Walker demanded.

“It’s not like I
let
him,” Bruce said. “He got scared and bolted.”

“And apparently caused a two-car accident. I’ve had calls from both drivers within the past five minutes. They claim there was damage to their vehicles and it was caused by Red Rover.”

“I guess that’s right,” Bruce admitted. “They had to stop fast. But the reason Red ran out there —”

“You don’t need to explain,” Mr. Walker said. “I understand totally. Irish setters are excitable and can easily pull free of their handlers. That’s one of the reasons we were hesitant about letting you have a large dog. We were afraid that you couldn’t control him, and apparently you can’t.”

“Bruce, honey, it’s
you
that we’re worried about,” said Mrs. Walker. Her face was pale and there was a tremor in her voice. “From what those drivers said, you could have been killed!”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Bruce assured her. “And Red is, too. If it weren’t for Jerry —”

“This has nothing to do with Jerry Gordon,” his father said. “It has to do with a dog who has become unruly.”

Mrs. Walker nodded in agreement. “Red has a sweet nature, but a dog that size doesn’t fit with our lifestyle. Every boy who wants a dog should have one. But is there any reason that the dog can’t be a small one? Perhaps Andi would let you have Friday.”

“I don’t want Friday!” Bruce exclaimed in horror.

“A dog is a dog,” his mother said reasonably. “Friday’s a dear little creature. You hardly even know she’s around.”

“I don’t want Friday!” Bruce repeated. “I want Red Rover!”

“I wouldn’t let Bruce have Friday if he wanted her!” Andi cried, bursting in through the doorway
to the kitchen. To Bruce’s relief, she had apparently accomplished her mission and put Red Rover in the yard. “You promised that Friday and Bebe could both be
my
dogs!”

“Children, stop this right now!” Mr. Walker commanded. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting your mother? Andi, there’s no reason to get hysterical. Your mother just made a suggestion, and I personally think —”

The phone rang again, and he quickly snatched up the receiver. This time Bruce could hear every word of his father’s side of the conversation, and it was all too clear what was being said on the other end of the line.

“That was Gerald Gordon,” Mr. Walker said unnecessarily as he replaced the receiver on the hook. “Apparently his son was at the scene and saw what happened.”

“I told you he was there,” Bruce said. “He’s the reason Red ran.”

“Don’t interrupt,” his father said. “Mr. Gordon is concerned about the legal aspects of this situation. You haven’t paid for Red Rover, so legally he is still the property of the Gordons. Apparently this
time the drivers aren’t going to press charges, but Mr. Gordon is worried, and with good reason, that he’ll be held responsible if that dog gets away again and causes further problems.”

“Did Mr. Gordon say he wants Red back?” Bruce asked fearfully.

“He didn’t exactly demand it, but he did suggest it,” his father told him. “He mentioned that Jerry is taller and stronger than you are and more physically capable of controlling a dog this size. But he’s mostly concerned about his own liability. He wants you to either purchase Red Rover or return him. He says that Jerry has matured a lot in recent months. He’s much more responsible than he used to be and is begging for a chance to prove himself.”

“It’s hard to earn money when you’re only thirteen,” Bruce said. “In another month I’ll be able to get yard work, but now it’s all I can do to keep Red in dog food.”

“Dad, why don’t you loan Bruce the money?” Andi suggested.

“That wasn’t our agreement,” Mr. Walker said firmly. “I allowed Bruce to keep Red Rover against
my better judgment with the understanding that he would earn the money to purchase him. I envisioned this as a valuable learning experience. My handing him the money would defeat that purpose.”

“I
will
earn the money!” Bruce said. “I give you my word, Dad. And I promise Red will never run off like that again.”