Boy's Best Friend (10 page)

“How was it?” asked George.

“It was scar-y,” said Vivien. “Look, my hair is standing on end.” She pulled the ends of her hair into the air and tugged on them.

“I had my fortune told,” said George.

“Oh,” said Vivien. “What did the lady say?”

“That I'd live a long life and I'd make an amazing discovery,” said George.

“That's nice,” said Vivien.

“I'm sure she says that to everyone,” said George.

“Probably,” said Vivien. She was quiet for a few moments. Then she pursed her lips and said, “You lied to me, George.”

“What did I lie about?” asked George, puzzled.

“About the caterpillars,” said Vivien, crossing her arms. “There is no such place as caterpillar city.”

Now it was George's turn to say “Oh.” He felt like a sword had been run through his heart.

“Dad burns them,” said Vivien.

“How'd you find out?” asked George.

“I heard him talking about it with Zac,” said Vivien.

“That's what you get for spying,” said George. Vivien had a habit of spying on people. She called it “watching,” but it was spying.

“I wasn't spying,” said Vivien. “I was only listening.”

“It's just that I didn't want to make you cry,” said George.

“I wouldn't have cried,” said Vivien. “Do you think I'm a baby?”

“Well, I might have cried,” said George. “Do you think I like the thought of burning all those caterpillars and wondering if they know what's happening?”

Vivien's silence bored a hole into George's stomach. “I'm hungry,” he said. “Let's get something to eat.”

 

20

Lester and Bill Gates started off down the streets named after trees. Bill Gates trotted ahead as if he knew right where he was going. And Lester followed.

“I'm counting on you to get us out of town,” said Lester. “Then we can hitchhike.” Lester passed a store window and stopped to look at his reflection. He'd put on a fresh change of clothes, remembered his belt, and combed his hair. “We look nice,” he said. “Someone is bound to pick us up.”

As they continued on, Lester began to see things he hadn't noticed before. Up ahead was a small park with an agility course for dogs.

“Hey, look,” Lester said to Bill Gates. “A dog gym.” Bill Gates paused and then trotted on. A few streets farther, there was a miniature golf course like the one in Denver. “I didn't know they had mini golf here,” said Lester. He loved mini golf.

Lester and Bill Gates wound in and out of the labyrinth of streets until one street began to look like the other.

“Denver might have the longest street,” said Lester, stopping to catch his breath. “But this town must have the most of them.” Without even thinking, he began repeating his mantra. “Moving is fun,” he said. “Change can be positive.”

Bill Gates rounded the block, picking up his pace.

“Slow down,” cried Lester.

Next thing Lester knew he was standing before an agility course for dogs. “Another one?” he said. Then he realized it was the same course he'd seen earlier.

“What happened?” cried Lester. “We've been going around in circles. I thought you were taking us home.” It occurred to Lester that he hadn't said Denver. Maybe Bill Gates thought of Cape Cod as home.

“This isn't home,” Lester said to Bill Gates.

Bill Gates looked at Lester as if to say, “Isn't it?” Then he lowered his eyes.

“Denver is home,” said Lester. His stomach had begun to growl. “All this exercise is making me hungry.” He squinted into the distance. Not far ahead was a hot dog shop. Lester's mouth began to water. “I need something to eat,” he said, crossing the street.

Lester parked Bill Gates outside and entered the hot dog shop. He took off his backpack and climbed onto one of the leather stools lining a long thin counter. Then he spun himself around until he began to feel dizzy.

“What's it going to be, son?” said the waiter.

“I'd like a hot dog with extra mustard,” said Lester. “And a plain one for my dog.” Lester gestured toward the window to Bill Gates, who was sitting back on his haunches waiting patiently.

Lester looked at the walls. They were covered with photos of dogs. “I like the decor,” he said.

“Thanks,” said the waiter. “The owner is a dog lover.”

“Me too,” said Lester.

The waiter smiled, then placed a steamy hot dog wrapped in a bun in front of Lester along with a bottle of mustard. Then he chopped a plain hot dog into a bowl for Bill Gates. Lester took a deep breath. He liked the smell of the place—a mix of hot dogs, soap bubbles, and fun. There were some game machines in a corner. They had some of those back in Denver.

Lester took the chopped hot dog out to Bill Gates. “Have I got a treat for you,” he said. “Doesn't it smell delish?” Then he went back to his stool, picked up the bottle of mustard, and squirted a thick yellow stripe across the top of his hot dog. He took a bite. It was amazing. It may well have been the best hot dog Lester had ever tasted.

I wonder if it tastes so good because I'm so hungry, he thought. Or because it's my first Cape Cod hot dog. Or maybe my last.

Suddenly, the door to the shop swung open and in walked George and Vivien.

“Lester!” cried Vivien.

“George, Vivien,” said Lester. “What are you doing here?”

“We were at the fair,” said Vivien. “And George got hungry.”

“These are the best hot dogs on Cape Cod,” said George. He ordered one for himself and one for Vivien.

“They might be the best ones in the world,” said Lester. Then it occurred to him that he hadn't seen all that much of the world. He'd spent most of his life in Denver.

“Don't you love the dog pictures?” said Vivien.

“Yup,” said Lester.

George's hot dog arrived and he picked up the bottle of ketchup and gave it a squirt.

“You should try some mustard with that,” said Lester. “Just a little.”

“I've never really liked mustard,” said George.

“But things change,” said Lester, not really knowing why he said that. The idea of change had always troubled him. But now it didn't seem to—not that much, anyway. Lester wondered if maybe another virtue—Acceptance—had been unleashed without his even realizing it.

George picked up the mustard bottle and stared at it for a few seconds. At last he turned it upside down and squirted four small flecks onto his hot dog. Then he took a bite.

“How is it?” asked Vivien. She squirted a drop of mustard on her finger and licked it. “It stings,” she said.

George swirled the hot dog around in his mouth, then swallowed the first bite. He took another and swallowed that too.

“Well?” said Lester.

“It's actually pretty good,” said George.

“Are you going camping?” asked Vivien, eyeing Lester's backpack wedged between two stools.

“I am,” said Lester.

“George loves camping,” said Vivien. “Don't you, George?”

George nodded and took another bite of his hot dog. “Almost as much as I love hot dogs,” he said.

“George camps in the backyard sometimes,” said Vivien.

“Viven, would you please mind your own business,” said George.

“I used to do that too, back in Denver,” said Lester.

“Well, maybe we can do it here sometime,” said George.

“That'd be fun,” said Lester.

“We have to go,” said Vivien, tugging on George's hand. “I have a playdate with my friend Madeleine. And,” she added, “I'm spending the night.”

“Sure,” said Lester. “Have fun.”

*   *   *

When Lester had finished his hot dog he went outside. “What are we going to do now?” he said to Bill Gates. He looked left. Then he looked right. He felt as though he'd come to a crossroads.

“I wonder if you can have a change of heart more than once,” he said to Bill Gates. Bill Gates dropped his chin as if to say, “Yes, that's what I've been trying to tell you.”

Lester thought of the birds, of how they migrated every year. They had two homes. Maybe he could have two homes too. At least he could try.

“I guess we're going to have to go back with our tails between our legs,” said Lester.

Bill Gates stood up and trotted off in the direction of 61 Fig Street, and Lester followed.

Lester's mother was in the kitchen making dinner, meat sauce and pasta. Its smell wafted through the house, making Lester's mouth water.

“Where have you been, Lester?” she cried. For once she wasn't smiling. “I was ready to call the police. You've been gone for hours.”

“I told you I was taking Bill Gates on a long, long walk,” said Lester. “Sorry,” he added, but he was secretly happy that she'd noticed he was gone.

After dinner, Lester began setting up his tent in the backyard. “I think I'll sleep out tonight,” he said to his father.

“Let me give you a hand,” said Mr. Shoe, slipping a peg into a corner of the tent and thrusting it into the ground.

Lester rolled out his sleeping bag and lay down with Bill Gates curled up at his feet. Then before Lester knew it, his father had stretched out next to him.

“So how's it going?” he asked. “Are you feeling a little more at home here?”

Lester nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “And I think Bill Gates is too.”

From off in the distance came the cry of a gull. Lester listened closely, then tried to mimic the sound.

“It's like having to learn a new language, isn't it?” said his father.

Lester nodded in agreement. He was thinking how moving was like having to learn a language, but there was more to it than learning words. It was discovering how people acted and what things were like.

The gull cried one more time, a long, loud shriek.

This time Lester opened his mouth and let out a sound.

“I think you've got it,” said his father.

“Maybe,” said Lester, reaching out a toe to nuzzle Bill Gates, who'd fallen fast asleep. Not even the cries of the gull could rouse him. It had been a long day.

Lester repeated his mantra to himself quietly. “Moving is fun. Change can be positive.” He was beginning to believe it.

 

21

On Monday afternoon George sat on a bench in front of the school waiting for Vivien. He had agreed to drop her at her dance class so that he could test Bart by arriving home much later than usual. He was now beginning the third week of his experiment.

Vivien skipped over to George and sat down next to him, lifting her feet into the air. “Do you like my new shoes?” she asked. They were blue ballerina-like slippers punched with silver sparkles along the strap.

George didn't like them. But he didn't not like them either. “If you like them, I like them,” he said at last. That answer seemed to satisfy Vivien.

Suddenly a voice sounded from in back of them. “I come from the planet Xpos.”

George turned around. It was Lester. He'd plucked a whirlybird from a tree, opened it, and stuck it across the bridge of his nose.

George smiled. He couldn't help but think that was something that Kyra might have done. George looked down at his wrist at the green ribbon. It had begun to fray at the edges. “Hi, Lester,” he said.

“Where's Xpos?” asked Vivien.

“I don't know,” said Lester, tilting his head upward. “Somewhere out there.” He sat down on the bench next to George. “Anyone want a whirlybird?” he asked.

“Sure,” said George. “I'll take one.”

Lester jumped up and grabbed one for George. George opened it and spread it across the bridge of his nose. Then Lester turned to Vivien and handed her a whirlybird too. “Here,” he said.

Vivien wrinkled her nose and hesitated.

“Come on, Viv,” said George. “It feels really funny.”

Vivien opened the whirlybird and pressed it across the bridge of her nose. “It's sticky,” she said.

Lester lifted his head skyward again. “Do you think there's life on other planets?” he asked.

George had often wondered the same thing. “Why not?” he said. “I mean, why would we be the only living beings in the universe?”

“Zac thinks George could be an alien,” said Vivien.

Lester looked earnestly at George, the whirlybird still on his nose. George tried hard not to laugh. “Sometimes I feel like an alien,” said Lester, his voice sounding nasal. “Especially since I moved here. Everything is so different than it was in Denver.”

George thought about the marsh and how he loved his life on Cape Cod—all of it. “I don't think I'd like to move,” he said.

“Moving is fun,” said Lester. “Change can be positive.”

“What?” asked Vivien. She looked confused.

“That's my mantra,” said Lester. He repeated it another time. “Moving is fun. Change can be positive.”

“What's a mantra?” asked Vivien.

“Basically, it's a bunch of words you say a bunch of times until they come true,” said Lester. Then he added, “Mantras can unleash virtues.”

“What are those?” asked Vivien.

“They're good qualities about a person,” said Lester. “You know, like friendliness, loyalty, patience, tolerance.” Those were the first ones that came to Lester's mind.

“I've got some of those,” said Vivien. “But I'd like a mantra to get even more.” She swung her ballerina shoes into the air. “Happy all the time,” she said. “That can be my mantra.”

Lester climbed onto the bench and grabbed another whirlybird. He stuck a second one on his nose. Then he sat back down. Mrs. Robarts was walking by the schoolyard with a cart of groceries.

“Hey, that's my neighbor,” whispered Lester. “Speaking of aliens, I think she could be hiding one. Actually, I think she might be a criminal.”