Storm Watcher (5 page)

“We’re just going with friends. It’s not a date.” Scott also flushed.

“Still, I think you’re old enough to know. If you have a few minutes...”

“Grandmom,” they shouted in unison. Nothing could be more embarrassing than having your grandmother offer to teach you the facts of life.

Tears rolled down Luke’s cheeks. He hadn’t laughed this hard since March.

“Uh, Grandmom, we know all about...that,” Scott said, looking everywhere but at her. He noticed Luke on the couch and narrowed his eyes as if zeroing in on a target. “You really need to talk to Luke. He’s the one with the girlfriend.”

“Am not,” Luke shouted, his humor gone in an instant.

“Oh, Megan is
so
great. Oh, Megan is
so
wonderful. She knows
so
much,” Scott taunted in a high-pitched voice.

“That’s enough, Scott,” Grandmom said in
the tone
. The flat, steely voice Dad used with equal success. So that’s where Dad had learned it.

When Jacob and Scott left, Grandmom joined him on the couch. Luke liked to see at least a full hour of the Weather Channel, so he knew where all the trouble spots were. Broadening his concern for storms in Dad’s flight path, he paid attention to the weather reports for North Carolina as well as the forecast for his home in Hershey, Pennsylvania.

Grandmom kept him company. She asked questions about the different graphics and clarification about some terms and weather systems. Luke explained it all, glad for the interest, trying not to overanalyze if her interest was fake or not.

“You should be a meteorologist,” Grandmom declared.

“What?” Shock shot through him. Was she making a cruel joke?

“You know more about the weather than that guy on TV.”

“But that’s Jim Cantore.”

“Who?”

“That’s the guy they send to stand on the beach when a hurricane’s barreling in from the Atlantic. He holds his rain hat and his anemometer and tries to look serious, but he’s drooling happy because wind speeds are in excess of fifty miles an hour. I mean, palm trees are bending in half, and this guy’s standing in front of the camera, reporting that everyone but him has already evacuated.” A shiver snaked up Luke’s spine. Jim Cantore was The Man.

“You don’t have to stand in a hurricane’s path to be a meteorologist. You could be the guy that says ‘Jim, I predict Hurricane So-and-So will make landfall on the Outer Banks in North Carolina. Go there.’”

Luke laughed. He had always assumed he would work with dogs when he grew up, but now his grandmother had given him something new and scary to think about.

CHAPTER 4

Pond Scum

On Monday morning Luke arrived early. No one was in the kennel, so he walked to the house. Peeking into the sunroom windows, Luke tried to see the puppies. Willajean came in to feed them and noticed him outside. His face burned.

She opened the door. “Come on in, Lost-and-Found. My doors are never locked. You’re always welcome.” Picking up a steaming mug of coffee, she pointed to the two whelping boxes. “Besides, one of these pups is yours.”

The bloodhound puppies had knocked over the metal feeding bowl and were spreading food all over the newspaper-lined floor. They tripped over their own ears as they wrestled with each other. Cute, but not as cute as the tiny, white papillon pups.

Luke leaned over to pet Lady. Smiling, he scratched her behind the ears. The little cotton balls nuzzled their mother, eyes still closed, pink mouths gaping, searching for a nipple to suck.

“Time to feed the dogs,” Willajean called.

A chair scraped in the kitchen. Megan came out with powdered sugar crumbs on her lips. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and followed them to the kennel.

The morning flew by. After all the dogs were fed and put out into the fields, Willajean delayed that afternoon’s training session. She had some potential buyers scheduled to look at the bloodhounds. Luke wished they would buy them all, then shook his head. Dad would only make him get one of Mr. Johnson’s dogs.

“Hey, Luke, you want to bike to the old dock and have lunch out there?” Megan asked, pulling out a shiny Trek mountain bike.

“Awesome,” he said. “Is it new?” He handed her his brown paper lunch bag, and she stuffed it into one of the leather saddlebags over the back wheel.

“Got it in May for my thirteenth birthday.” When she strapped on her helmet, its red glitter sparkled in the sunshine.

Luke eyed his rusting hand-me-down bike and nicked helmet. His brothers had trashed their new bikes, uncaring or unconcerned that they’d left Luke with two broken wrecks to piece together into one that worked.

Megan jumped on her bike and sped away on a trail through the forest behind the kennel. Luke struggled to keep up, his thin tires slipping on the dirt path. Familiar with the road, Megan charged and whooped over the bumps and through the underbrush, while Luke stayed on the trail, moving cautiously. She made a sudden right turn. By the time he caught up with her, she was racing down a narrow wooden dock, her wheels drumming on the planks.

“Megan, watch out.” The yell exploded from his mouth before he could stifle it. Certain that she would go flying off the end, he dropped his bike on the dirt path and ran after her.

She stopped one plank short of the edge, panting and flushed. “Scared you.”

“Did not,” he said quickly. “I just didn’t want to eat a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

She laughed and unpacked their lunches. They sat on the edge of the dock with their feet dangling above the pond. Dragonflies zoomed and hovered over the lumpy greenish surface. Insects buzzed in the moist air.

“Mom said you just had a birthday. Any cool stuff?” Megan asked.

“No. Clothes from my grandmom.” Luke sighed. He’d needed new clothes. He had outgrown his old ones, and Dad used Jacob and Scott’s hand-me-downs for rags. He hated to ask Dad to take him shopping because he didn’t want to see the pain in his father’s eyes. Clothes shopping had been Mom’s job.

Megan crinkled her nose, and Luke guessed it wasn’t because of the rotten odor of pond scum from below.

“I hate getting clothes,” she said. “I’d rather have a new video game, but my sister loves new outfits. She
lives
for shopping. I’d rather go bike riding. Did you get anything else?”

All he’d gotten from his brothers had been a mumbled “Happy Birthday,” while they shoveled down the chocolate cake Grandmom had baked.

“The puppy,” he said, wondering if, like clothes that didn’t fit, he could exchange it for something he really wanted.

“But that’s not really a gift. You’re working the summer to pay for it.”

“Yeah, but my dad’ll be paying for dog food and the vet bills. He’ll probably build another bed in the shed for her to use.” He sighed again, unable to feel any enthusiasm.

“You don’t want a puppy?” Megan stared at him as if he had two heads.

“I don’t want a bloodhound pup. I want one of Lady’s puppies.”

“No problem. My mom wouldn’t care. She can sell either. Just let her know.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

Luke shrugged. Megan probably wouldn’t understand. Willajean encouraged Megan to think of new ideas for training and to do things differently. If Megan decided she wanted to breed pharaoh hounds, Willajean probably wouldn’t have a problem adding a pharaoh hound to her kennel.

“My dad lives and breathes bloodhounds.” Luke tried to explain. “He knows everything about them. They’re so familiar that any other dog probably seems like an alien from Pluto to him.”

Megan laughed, but seeing Luke’s glum expression she stopped. “Maybe you can get your dad to like papillons.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tell him about how tough and smart they are, and how much the puppies are worth if you decide to breed your dog. You know, that kind of thing,” Megan suggested.

Excitement pulsed in Luke’s chest. “I get it. If he knows all about them, and I tell him about all the ribbons Sweetie and Lady have won, he might let me have one.”

“If you become an expert on papillons, I’ll bet he’ll feel better about having one in his house.”

“That’s a great idea.”

Megan’s phone chirped. She pulled a red cell phone from her pants pocket, read the text message, and replied. Her thumbs flew over the keyboard.

“A friend?” Luke asked.

“Yeah. Karen, my best friend down in North Carolina.” She shoved the phone back into her pocket. “She’s biking too. We used to go out all day. I knew all the trails around our houses by heart.” Megan tossed a stone into the water. “There are lots of biking trails down there. Up here, I keep running into houses or farms. Do you know any good places to ride?”

“Not really. I stick to the streets.”

Megan looked so disappointed, Luke searched his memory. “Oh wait, there’s this trail that used to be a railroad track. It goes all the way from Elizabethtown to Mt. Gretna. I think there’s an entrance nearby. Oh, and if you go to Mt. Gretna, you have to get ice cream at the Jigger shop. It’s the best ever.”

“Yeah? Do they have moose tracks? It’s my favorite.”

“Yep. I always get mint chocolate chip.”

“Is it green?”

“Of course, it’s not true mint chip if it isn’t green.”

She laughed, smiling until another text message chirped. “Karen’s biking with Becky now, showing her all our secret spots.” After she typed, she turned to Luke. “What’s your cell number? I’ll put it in my contacts.”

“I don’t have a cell phone.”

Megan gasped. “Why not?”

“My dad thinks I don’t need one until I’m old enough to drive. That’s when my brothers got theirs.”

“That’s…” Unable to finish, she just gaped at him.

“Crazy, I know. But we don’t have a ton of money, and my brothers pay their monthly bill.” He shrugged. “I’ll give you my home number. Nobody answers that but me.”

“But what if—”

“Believe me, I’ve tried using all the
what-if
situations with my dad. He’s stubborn.” Luke picked up a pebble and threw it into the water.

“My mom gets that way too. But if I have a good reason, she sees my point. Do you think your dad will let you get a papillon?”

“I don’t know.” But it was worth a try.

They discussed the best time to approach his dad as they biked back to the kennel. When they drew closer to her farm, Megan stopped and leaned her bike on a tree.

“What’s wrong?” Luke pulled next to her.

She gestured to another trail that branched off to the left. Steeper than the one they rode on, it climbed up a hill. “There’s an overlook at the top that’s awesome. Wanna see?”

“Sure.” Luke dumped his bike.

They hiked up the path, huffing in the humid air.

Near the top, Megan pointed straight ahead. “If you keep walking, there a stream that feeds into the pond.”

Surprised, Luke asked, “How do you know?”

“I took Lance for a walk, and we found it. I like to explore the woods around our farm.”

“Oh.”

She turned to the left and strode down a tight and twisty path. “I missed this turn the first time I hiked up here.”

Bushes and leaves scraped along Luke’s legs. Briars grabbed his shorts and T-shirt. “Are you sure this is a path?”

“Yeah, it opens up at the end.”

As he navigated through the brush, he hoped there wasn’t any poison ivy in here. Something about leaves of three –

“Here we are.” Megan stepped aside.

Farm fields stretched across the valley like a green sea. “Wow. I can see Hersheypark and the hospital.” He stepped onto the rocky outcropping.

“Be careful there’s a steep drop-off.” Megan warned.

Luke leaned over, peering down. A narrow ledge jutted about ten feet below, but then nothing until the tops of trees at the bottom. Good thing he wasn’t afraid of heights. “The view is epic.”

“Told you.”

They returned to their bikes.

“Maybe the next time you go…er…exploring, you could take me along,” Luke said.

“Sure.” Megan hopped onto her bike.

“And I’ll find out where that Rails-to-Trails thing is for you.”

“Great.” She peddled off.

Luke followed.

Willajean was waiting for them. “We’re going to do a quick training session for these three young dogs. Luke, you work with Hazel, and Megan can deal with Tanner.”