Waggit Forever (10 page)

N
ot only was the team pleased to see Tazar, but also they were relieved. While there wasn't a dog among them who would have told you that Waggit had been anything less than an exemplary leader in the black dog's absence, nevertheless something had been missing, and they were overjoyed to be reunited with Tazar. Dogs like things to stay the same, to have a structure that they recognize, and however good a substitute Waggit had been, he was still just that—a replacement leader, not
the
leader. Waggit himself
would have been the first to agree with this.

But when they saw Tazar coming up the steep track, they realized that even with his return things would never be quite the same. The once-agile dog now limped on one back leg, and moved slowly and with difficulty. Waggit suspected that the skateboard had done as much service for Tazar as it ever had for Lowdown. But even though the shock of his disability sent a collective shudder through the team, the delight they all felt at his survival soon overcame it. Now it was Tazar's turn to be peppered with questions. He clearly enjoyed being the center of attention once again. But as he told his story, he needed considerable help from Felicia to fill in the blanks.

“After the big roller hit me, Felicia took me to this…what was the place called?”

“Veterinary hospital,” said Felicia.

“Whatever.” Tazar shrugged. “Anyway, this place where they fix up dogs who are sick or hit by rollers like I was. So I'm lying on this platform and an Upright comes over to me, and he's an Upright and I'm a free dog, so I growl at him—I mean, any dog would, wouldn't he?”

There was a general murmur of agreement that this
was the appropriate way to deal with an approaching Upright.

“As it turns out, he doesn't want to fight, but instead he jabs me with this sharp thing and suddenly I don't want to fight him either, because I feel pretty good.”

The audience now murmured with surprise.

“Then the next thing you know, I'm gone again, just like I was after the roller hit me, and when I wake up I hurt really badly, and I can't move one leg, and I've got this bad pain underneath my body. Well, it turns out I had a—what was it again?”

“Emergency surgery,” said Felicia.

“The Upright had to do the…whatever it was she just said, because it turns out I was—what was I, Felicia?”

“Bleeding internally,” Felicia informed him.

“Now when that happens,” Tazar continued with the assurance of an expert, “it's very serious, and in fact you could die if it's not dealt with quickly, and the only way you can stop it is to be cut with a Silver Claw, not to kill you, but to make you better. Also my leg was all banged up and they had to make it stiff so that I wouldn't move it. So I couldn't walk properly, and of course that makes hunting difficult, and
anyway I'm in an Upright den, and the only prey was a few scrawny-looking cats that I couldn't get at. So they fed me this stuff out of a cylinder. They just open up the cylinder and out it pops, and it's delicious. Best food I ever had.”

Waggit had to smile, because he knew exactly what Tazar was talking about. He had eaten the same kind of food when he had lived with the woman who had saved him from the Great Unknown, and he remembered it being very tasty.

“Anyway,” Tazar went on, “this Upright does this for the Petulants of other Uprights who don't have much—what's that stuff called again, Felicia?”

“Money,” answered Felicia.

“Yeah, that stuff. And he assumed that Felicia was a Skurdie, so he let her sleep near me. She stayed there for what seemed like many risings, and gradually the pain went away, and the leg got easier to walk on, though it's not back to the way it used to be yet.”

“But how did you both escape?” asked Cal.

“We didn't. They just let us go when they thought I was ready,” replied Tazar.

“They let you go?” exclaimed Raz with amazement. “You mean this Upright never called the Ruzelas to
have you taken to the Great Unknown?”

“No, he just stroked me under the chin, said something to Felicia in his Upright language, and then opened the door and let us out.”

“What did he say?” the astonished Raz asked Felicia.

“He said that Tazar was a remarkable dog and that I was very lucky to have him,” she replied.

“Yeah,” said Tazar. “He was a very decent Upright. His name was Alan.”

Of the many gasp-inducing things that Tazar had told the team, nothing beat this last statement. In all the years the dogs had been together, the words “decent” and “Upright” had never left Tazar's mouth in the same sentence.

“But—but—but—you always said there was no such thing as a good Upright,” said Little One.

“No,” said Tazar, in the tone of voice that a teacher uses with a particularly slow student. “What I said was
most
Uprights are bad. I never said they all are. Look at Felicia here. Nobody could call her a bad Upright, now could they?”

Although none of the team members would have disputed that statement under any circumstances, the complete reversal of Tazar's long-held beliefs about
humans so stunned the dogs that none of them could speak anyway.

Waggit, who had been listening to all this in amused silence, now turned to Felicia.

“Thank you, Felicia, for saving Tazar's life and bringing him back to us,” he said.

“I didn't do much, really,” said Felicia. “We were lucky I found this veterinarian, and even more lucky that he doesn't charge a lot of money, as Tazar said. I'm afraid I'm a bit short at the moment.”

This last statement confused the dogs, because Felicia was the tallest person they had ever seen.

“You're not short; you're huge,” cried Little Two.

“Well, thank you, Little Two.” Felicia chuckled. “I'll assume you meant that in the best possible way. What I meant was I don't have a lot of money at the moment. My family is trying to rein me in and has been a bit tightfisted lately.”

Because of Felicia the Tazarians knew of the existence of money, but they had only a vague grasp of what it was and how you used it, and they didn't find it very interesting anyway. What did interest them was the way that Tazar walked as he crossed the meadow to take his first look at the cave. Although he moved
almost normally, he had a noticeable limp on his left hind leg. He turned and saw them looking at it.

“Don't worry,” he said, “it's a little bit stiff, but it works okay. Felicia says it makes me look rheumatic.”

Felicia snorted with laughter. “I didn't say rheumatic; I said romantic. It gives you the air of a bandit.”

Waggit could see that the experience the two of them had had during his recovery had brought Tazar and Felicia much closer together, and he had to confess to himself that he felt a twinge of jealousy. Felicia had always been his friend first and foremost, and now there was an intimacy between her and Tazar that he didn't share. He loved the fact that Tazar had changed his attitude to some humans at least, and Felicia especially, but he disliked the feeling of being excluded. He didn't have time to dwell on this, though, because Tazar called him over to the opening of the cave.

“This is fine, Waggit,” he said with admiration. “This is really fine. This is the best place we've ever lived. You did well.”

“It's very comfortable,” Waggit agreed. “There's plenty of space, and it never gets too hot or too cold, and there's water close by.”

“What I don't understand,” Tazar continued, “is
why there were no dogs living here already. It's so ideal, and there must've been teams that have come through this way, or even a loner or two.”

Waggit thought that this wasn't the time to tell him about the Curse.

“We were just lucky, I guess” was all he would say.

The other dogs took Tazar around and showed him where everything was and talked excitedly about the hunting and how you hardly ever saw a human but you could scavenge if you wanted to, and all the other parts of their new life they wanted him to know.

“It's just like the old times,” said Raz.

“You're too young to know about old times,” said Lowdown.

“Well,” Raz corrected himself, “it's just like the Deepwoods used to be when I was first abandoned. You decide what you want for supper and then go get it.”

“What do you want for supper?” Cal asked Tazar.

“Hopper,” he replied. “I'd love some hopper. That canned food is good, but I missed fresh meat.”

“Hopper it is, then,” promised Cal.

As a hastily formed hunting party left for the woods to fulfill Cal's promise, Tazar wandered around the cave, sniffing corners and scratching the floor with
one paw. The more he inspected their new home, the more he seemed content with what he saw and smelled. He turned to Waggit, who was watching him from the cave's entrance.

“You did well, Waggit,” he said. “And I don't just mean by finding this place. What I mean is much more important. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have moved, not yet, anyway, and probably not until it was too late. You also kept the team together, both before the roller hit me and after. I look around and see how happy and secure they all look, and there's only one reason for that—a good leader.”

“Tha-tha-thank you, Tazar,” Waggit stammered with embarrassment. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that, though it's not easy being a leader, is it?”

“No, it's not,” Tazar agreed, “but every team has to have one.”

“Well, I'm glad it's still you,” said Waggit.

“So am I, Waggit.” Tazar chuckled. “So am I.”

Although Waggit felt that Felicia and Tazar had become closer in the time they'd been together, he also realized that he too was closer to his leader because of the time they'd been apart. He now felt like Tazar's deputy and was confident that if and when the
team needed a new leader, he would be able to rise to the test. He just hoped that it didn't happen too soon. Waggit followed Tazar out into the bright sunshine of the meadow. From behind him he could see that the dog's injured leg was nowhere near back to normal. As Tazar lay down in the sun's warmth he reminded Waggit a little of Lowdown, although this may have been because Tazar lay down right next to him.

Waggit watched the two old friends chatting to each other, and he felt a little embarrassed about being jealous of the attachment between Tazar and Felicia, or anyone else. Their relationship didn't threaten his own, and he felt happy about the affection that had formed between them, two creatures he was very fond of. The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully until the return of Cal, Raz, Little One, Little Two, Gordo, and Magica, all proudly bearing supper—and it was rabbit.

That evening's meal was a joyous affair. The team was back together again; their new home was splendid; their leader had recovered; they were in the company of their favorite person; their stomachs were full and likely to remain that way for some time. This wasn't just like the old times that Raz had spoken about—this
was
way
better. As Waggit sat there enjoying the food and camaraderie he felt a true contentment. He had even forgotten about the Curse of Damnation Hill.

Unfortunately, the Curse of Damnation Hill had not forgotten about him.

T
hings started to go wrong shortly after Felicia and Tazar returned. At first they were minor incidents, the kinds of things that often happen in everyday life. Raz pulled a muscle while hunting and had to limp home on three legs. Then a branch snapped off a tree and hit one of the dogs. Fortunately it hit Gordo, whose heavy padding helped protect him, and actually did more damage to the branch than it did to him. Cal had a narrow escape while scavenging near one of the ball fields. A police car had cruised by just as he had
his head and the top half of his body stuck in a garbage can. He managed to extricate himself and slip past the cops just in the nick of time. And though there was nothing unusual about any of these events, their frequency became alarming.

But then things started to get much more serious. Alona suddenly became very sick, and nobody knew why. She couldn't eat, was feverish, and got alarmingly weak in a very short span of time. She had deteriorated to the point where she could no longer stand when Felicia decided to take her to Alan, the veterinarian who had treated Tazar. She was too frail to even sit on the skateboard that had become the team's makeshift ambulance. Felicia had to carry her, which wasn't a problem because Alona had lost so much weight.

For two days the worried dogs heard nothing, and then Felicia returned, by herself. The dogs gathered around, anxious to hear her news.

“It's not good, I'm afraid,” she said. “Alan has done a number of tests on her and can't figure out why she's so sick. At the moment he's giving her food and liquids intravenously.”

The dogs looked at her blankly.

“I'm sorry, Felicia,” said Tazar, “but I don't think any of us understood what you just said.”

“Forgive me,” replied Felicia. “I'm so worried about her that I forgot you haven't had any experience of this kind of thing before. The bottom line is that Alan doesn't know why she's sick, and the only way he can keep her alive is by putting food into her through a tube that goes straight into her body, instead of through her mouth.”

Gordo was now very attentive, always being interested in alternative ways of eating.

“What do we do now?” asked Tazar.

“There's really nothing we can do except wait,” replied Felicia. “I told Alan I'd go back in a couple of days to see how she's progressing.”

“It's the Curse,” wailed Alicia suddenly. “I knew we shouldn't have come here. At least the old park wasn't jinxed like this one is.”

“What Curse?” Tazar tersely demanded.

“The Curse the Terminor told Gordo about. Did you know this place is called Damnation Hill? It ain't safe here, I'm telling you.”

Tazar turned to Waggit.

“Did you know about this Curse?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Waggit. “One of the Terminors told us about it.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Tazar demanded.

“Well,” said Waggit, “it never really came up.”

This was true, inasmuch as nobody had spoken about the Curse since Tazar's return. Waggit had thought about telling him many times but was afraid that the leader would be scornful of him taking such nonsense seriously. But now it seemed that taking it seriously had been the smart thing to do.

“Waggit,” said Tazar, firmly but without anger, “I have to know everything that happens. Knowledge is the power that allows me to make good decisions. I cannot afford to be blindsided by ignorance. You need to tell me every single thing, no matter how trivial it might seem.”

So, feeling somewhat chastened, Waggit told Tazar about the meeting with Cabrol. He also told him that he had ordered the dogs who had been present at the encounter not to tell the rest of the team about the Curse. He gave Gordo a piercing stare when he said this, and now it was Gordo's turn to look shame-faced.

“I suppose I assumed you would think it was silly of
us to be scared by Cabrol,” he continued. “I suppose I thought you wouldn't believe in the Curse.”

“I've seen too many things in my lifetime that nobody could explain to not keep an open mind,” said Tazar. “No, I believe that there are such things as jinxes, and that they can be evil and potent.”

Felicia had remained silent during this exchange, but from the expression on her face, it was obvious that she was more skeptical about the Curse than Tazar.

But then, as if to reinforce Tazar's words, the dogs awoke the next morning to find that the spring had stopped running and the water in the pool tasted and smelled bad. It was Gordo who discovered it. He drank more than any other dog on the team, and this was one of the rare days when he was up first. He came back into the cave spluttering and sticking his tongue out, trying to get rid of the taste.

“Ugh, the pool tastes awful today,” he complained, “and it seems to be lower than it was.”

“If it tastes bad to you,” observed Alicia, “then it must really taste bad, 'cause you'd drink anything.”

It was true that Gordo would slurp from puddles that other dogs wouldn't go near, so this was a clear
indication that the water situation was serious. The rest of the team gathered around the pool. It definitely contained less water than normal, and the reason was obvious. The steady cascade of water that had flowed from the rocks into it no longer did, and the stream that once splashed out the other side and down the hill had dried up. A reliable source of fresh water was vital for the dogs, who could go much longer without food than without drink. However difficult life in their former home had become, one thing they never had to worry about was water.

“Oh dear, Tazar,” said Magica. “What are we going to do?”

“We'll find a way out of this,” Tazar assured her. “Don't you worry.”

“There's always the Wide Flowing Water,” suggested Little One.

“The park goes right down to it,” added Little Two.

“If you think my old legs are gonna get me down there and back up again every time I need a drink, then you're nuts,” said Lowdown. “Even your young limbs are gonna get pretty tired running up and down four or five times a day, not to mention the fact that you're in Upright land down there.”

“Not only that,” said Waggit, “but the Ductors told us that if we drank it, we would go mad.”

All of this was true, but none of them could think of any alternative, which caused Gruff to sigh mournfully.

“This is what comes of listening to uppity young dogs that think they're leaders and their big ideas about change. Stick with what you know, I always say.” He moaned.

“We should ask Felicia what she thinks,” said Waggit, ignoring this last remark, which was obviously aimed at him.

It was generally agreed that this would be a good idea, and they ran over to the corner of the meadow where she had camped. There is nothing that will get you out of bed quicker in the morning than a pack of dogs barking outside your tent, and it certainly had the required effect on Felicia that morning. She unzipped the door, stumbled sleepily through it, and stretched herself fully awake. The sight of Felicia stretching was always an awesome sight for the dogs, for while they always stretched horizontally, she did it vertically and looked taller than ever.

“Well, dogs, where's the fire?” she asked.

“There's no fire.”

“What fire?”

“Did you smell fire?”

The Tazarians were confused.

“I'm sorry,” said Felicia, realizing her mistake. “That's an Upright phrase meaning ‘what's the panic?'”

“Why doesn't she say what she means?” Gruff asked. “Why does she have to get us all worried about fires that don't exist?”

“Why don't you be quiet,” said Alicia sharply, “and let us tell her what the problem is?”

So the dogs did just that. Felicia listened carefully to what they said, and then there was silence. They knew that this meant she was thinking about the situation, mulling over possible solutions, and the dogs knew better than to interrupt her.

After a few moments she said, “This may be more serious than you realize. Even those of you who are capable of running up and down the hill every time you're thirsty, and are willing to risk the Uprights around the ball fields, may find yourselves disappointed. If I'm not mistaken, both of those rivers are saltwater around here, so you couldn't drink from them anyway.”

The dogs pondered this information.

“We mustn't forget,” said Magica, “that Pilodus said the Wide Flowing Water would suck a dog in and you'd never be seen again.”

“This place is cursed all right,” mumbled Gruff, only this time nobody disputed him.

“Springs like the one next to the cave often dry up suddenly, and just as often start running again. You can't assume it's because of the forces of evil,” Felicia assured them. “You know, we haven't had any rain in a long time.”

Apart from the downpour on the first day of their journey, there had been something approaching a drought for several weeks, but the dogs were inclined to believe the “forces of evil” over the force of nature explanation.

“The short-term solution is easy,” Felicia continued more cheerfully. “I will go to the store and purchase a large container that I can fill from the water fountains near the ball fields. If I do it once a day, that should be enough to keep you going, and if it isn't, I'll fill it twice a day.”

“That's very good of you,” said Tazar, “but you're
right. It doesn't solve the problem. We can't be dependent on you for something as vital as water. For one thing, there's still Alona. She needs you to be there for her, and who knows if you might have to stay with her like you did with me?”

“And don't forget, Tazar,” Felicia reminded him, “the nights are going to start getting colder pretty soon, and I'm going to have to go south when they do.”

“Besides which,” Tazar continued, “if we have to rely on an Upright to survive, even one like you, then we might as well all become Petulants and be done with it.”

“I honestly don't know what the long-term solution is,” said Felicia, “but I'm convinced that there is one, and it doesn't involve moving once again. I mean, apart from anything else, where would you go?”

It was a question that most of the team was thinking and none of them could answer.

 

While the answer didn't reveal itself in the next couple of days, they were relieved that no other disasters happened. Even though none of the other team members paid any attention to it, Gruff's comment about “uppity young dogs that think they're leaders”
worried Waggit. Although Beidel had initially suggested moving, Waggit had been the first one to embrace the idea and push for it. Maybe they should have tried harder to find another solution in the old park; maybe he had just been trying to increase his influence with Tazar. Waggit
did
feel responsible for the team's new home, and on good days this was a source of pride for him, but on bad days it made him feel guilty that they had listened to him. He needed to find a solution to their present situation. But if there really was a Curse, what could they do about it but move?

He was in this frame of mind when he went for a walk by himself in the woods above the cliff. There were occasions when he needed to talk to Lowdown about a problem and others when he needed to think things through by himself, and this was one of the latter. Also, he liked being alone from time to time. He realized that since they had been living on the hill, he had always been too busy to explore its upper reaches. He was a naturally curious dog, and exploring was fun for him, so he decided to follow a path he had never taken before. It hadn't been made by humans and was probably the work of deer, for their scent was strong
on the trail. It ran over lightly wooded land through which the sun filtered, keeping it warm and friendly. To his left he saw an area of much denser forest. It was dark and mysterious, and the deer path veered away from it as if the creatures who had made it wanted nothing to do with the unlit place. But something drew Waggit toward it, some impulse that came from deep within him.