Boy's Best Friend (4 page)

George's mother checked her watch. “Bart's been waiting 9 minutes,” she said.

“And it took me 11 minutes to get home,” said George. “Thanks, Mom.”

George leaned over to ruffle Bart's fur. “Hi, big guy. So you knew when I was coming.” Then he went upstairs to his room to fill in his logbook.

“George,” called his mother. “There's a message for you on the computer.”

George raced back down the stairs. The message was from Rupert Sheldrake. He'd won the bet with Zac. But that didn't seem so important. What mattered most was that Rupert Sheldrake had written back to him.

Dear George,

I would be happy to answer a few questions. If they are not too long then fourteen or fifteen would be fine. I am not superstitious where numbers are concerned, but many people here in England, where I live, are—so much so that there are office buildings and hotels that don't have a thirteenth floor.

In answer to your question, nothing is absolutely sure, even in science. Even the sun rising tomorrow isn't a certain fact, but it's very probable. Science works in terms of probabilities and of finding out what happens most of the time. Lots of people have dogs that seem to anticipate their owner's arrival, going to the door or window and waiting well before their owners get home. Is it just a coincidence, as skeptics say? The only way to find out is by making detailed observations. It's no use just arguing about it. That's why evidence is so important in science.

It may seem to you like your dog knows when you are coming home. But you would have to see if your dog favors a particular spot—it could be inside or out—or only goes there when you are about to arrive. And your dog would have to repeat this behavior with some consistency. If your dog does this repeatedly before your arrival, and even when you come home at different times of the day, that would suggest that it's really responding to your returning in some way or another.

I'm sure your brother might then argue that this is because your dog hears your footsteps or a car or a school bus. But you can check this by varying the way you get home. Perhaps you could take your bike or have someone drive you. If your dog still reacts, this would lend evidence to the idea that he's picking up on something about your intention to come home.

Good luck with your experiment and let me know how it goes.

Best wishes,

Rupert Sheldrake

George turned off the computer and went to find Zac. He was in the garage with Vivien, adjusting the handlebars on her bike.

“Zac is fixing my bike so I can ride it to school instead of taking the bus,” said Vivien. Vivien hated the school bus.

“Mom isn't going to let you ride your bike to school,” said George.

“In a couple years she will,” said Vivien. “So I'm practicing.”

George turned to Zac. “Rupert Sheldrake wrote back to me. I won the bet.”

“Woooo,” said Zac. “Fair and square.” He reached into his wallet for a ten-dollar bill.

“What are you going to do with it?” Zac asked, handing George the money.

“I think I'll just save it,” said George.

“See, George,” said Vivien. “You're more important than you think.” She looked happy.

George went back up to his room to text Kyra. “Guess what?” he wrote. “I e-mailed Rupert Sheldrake and he e-mailed me back.”

Two minutes later, Kyra texted back three smilies, followed by “What did he say?”

“He's going to answer some of my questions about animal behavior,” wrote George. Then he added, “There's a new guy sitting in your old seat. He's from Denver.”

Kyra wrote back, “I'd like to go to Denver.”

George sighed. Kyra was always eager to explore new places and things. Even though she'd been sad to leave Cape Cod, she'd been excited to move to North Carolina.

“I can't wait to see what it's like,” she'd said. Then after she moved, she'd texted him about the way the people there talked and what they ate. “It's really different from the Cape,” she'd written. But she seemed to like it there. George wondered if the ability to like was infinite—if you could like new things, but keep liking the old things just as much. He hoped so.

 

6

When Lester arrived home that afternoon, Bill Gates was sitting on the stone walkway behind the front gate.

“You were waiting for me, weren't you?” said Lester, giving the dog a cuddle. “Too bad that dog experiment didn't start today.”

Lester's mother was looking at paint samples for her new yoga space off the kitchen. She'd named it the Sunshine Studio and decided to paint it a shade of blue. “How was your day?” she asked.

“Okay,” said Lester. “But it's a lot different from Denver. Some of the kids are on diets.”

“Diets?” said Lester's mother. She furrowed her brow, but her smile quickly returned.

“I have a science project that seems pretty fun,” said Lester. “Dogs who know when their owners are coming home. I have to see if Bill Gates waits for me here after school like he did in Denver. And I have to keep a logbook for twenty days.”

“That does sound like fun,” said Lester's mother.

“But I need someone to record when Bill Gates goes out to wait for me,” said Lester.

“I'd be happy to do that,” said Lester's mother.

“You have to be precise though,” said Lester.

“I can be very precise,” said Lester's mother.

Lester knew his mother could be precise. That was another of her virtues.

“Good,” said Lester. “I guess I'll start tomorrow then. George started today.”

“Who's George?” asked Lester's mother.

“A guy I met at school,” said Lester. He went up to his room and made a logbook for his experiment, like George had shown him. When he was finished he took his notebook, turned to his list of virtues, and added “Precision.” Then he put a check beside Courage. It had taken a lot of courage to get through the first day at a new school.

 

7

On Tuesday, Ms. Clover asked the class to take out their history books. She began talking about names and how in ancient times they'd often denoted something about a person.

“Oftentimes people took their names from their professions,” she explained. “Lester Shoe's ancestors may have been cobblers, for example.”

George looked down at his own name penciled on a piece of masking tape on the corner of his desk. Masson. Maybe his ancestors had been bricklayers. Then George remembered that “mason” had only one “s.” His name had two. So maybe my ancestors couldn't spell, he thought.

Lester raised his hand. He'd noticed something interesting and wanted to share it with the class. Sharing was something they did in Denver. Lester wondered if it was the same here. He took a deep breath. “Did you ever notice that you have the word ‘love' in your name?” he said.

Someone snickered. Then Ms. Clover laughed out loud. “No I didn't,” she said.

George looked down at his own name again. Masson. Oops, he had the word “ass” in his name. He'd never noticed that before, and he wished he hadn't now. He hoped no one else did. If only Lester hadn't mentioned the word “love” in Ms. Clover's name, then George would never have noticed the “ass” in his name.

Lester glanced around the room. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the faces, then opened them again. He did this a few times. He wanted to memorize the faces so when he saw his classmates in the hallway he could say hello.

“Are you okay?” asked the girl next to him. Her name was Sheila.

“I'm fine,” said Lester. “Thanks for asking.”

The rest of the day, Lester made an effort to say hello to anyone he recognized. Some of the kids said hi back. But most of them looked at him like he was a weirdo.

On the way out of school, Lester even said hi to someone he'd never seen before.

“Do I know you?” the guy answered.

“I don't think so,” said Lester. “I was just saying hi.”

The guy nodded. “Gotcha,” he said.

When Lester got to the bike rack, George was already there.

Lester checked his watch. It was 3:01. “I'm starting my experiment with Bill Gates today,” he said. “I wonder if he'll be waiting.”

“Good luck,” said George, backing his bike out of the rack.

“Thanks,” said Lester. He pedaled off, trying to focus on home. But for some reason images of Denver kept appearing in his mind. When he got home at 3:11, Bill Gates was in the backyard sunbathing.

“He's been there all afternoon,” said Lester's mother.

Lester gave Bill Gates a gentle nudge. “Didn't you know I was coming?” he said. Lester thought maybe it was because he hadn't been precise enough when thinking of home. He'd thought about Denver when he meant to be thinking about Cape Cod.

Lester went up to his desk and filled in his logbook halfheartedly. Then he turned to his list of virtues and zeroed in on Precision. “Moving is fun. Change can be positive.”

Meanwhile, George had pedaled home as fast as he could, setting a record. When he arrived, Bart was waiting on the porch steps.

“He's been there 8 minutes,” said George's mother. George checked his watch. It was 3:10.

George went up to his room to fill in his logbook. He tried to focus on dogs, but for some reason his own name kept pushing into his thoughts. He wondered if you could change the spelling of your name.

 

8

When Lester went down to the kitchen on Wednesday morning, his mother eyed him from head to toe. “Don't you look nice today,” she said.

“Thanks,” said Lester, pouring himself some cereal, then carefully closing the box and returning it to the cupboard. He'd made the decision to be more precise right before going to bed. And he'd already started to be so, aiming carefully at the toilet in the new bathroom. When he'd gotten dressed he'd made sure that his clothes were in order and his hair was combed. After breakfast he walked to school, reminding himself to think about home more precisely when school got out.

Lester was more precise than usual when he did his math exercises. And when he put mustard on his sandwich at lunchtime he was careful not to squirt anyone. He was more precise about who he was friendly with too. He only said hello to those people he recognized. But still, not all of them spoke back.

Lester walked home from school repeating his mantra. “Moving is fun. Change can be positive,” he said as he thought precisely of his new house with the faded gray clapboards.

Lester arrived at 3:24 and Bill Gates was waiting on the walkway behind the gate.

“Hey, so you knew I was coming,” said Lester, letting himself into the yard.

“He's been waiting 19 minutes,” said Lester's mother, who was cleaning the windows on the front door.

Lester looked at his watch. He'd started home 21 minutes ago. He ran upstairs and carefully filled in his logbook. Then he looked out the window above his desk. There was a tree and it had new buds sprouting on it. They made Lester feel hopeful. He picked up his pencil, opened his notebook, and drew the tree in great detail. Then he turned to his list of virtues and checked off Precision.

Four blocks away, George was filling in his logbook. He'd left school at 3:05, taken the long way home on his bike, and arrived home at 3:22. Bart had been waiting 12 minutes.

“Way to go, Bart,” said George. “I hoped you'd be here and you are.” But then he wondered what might have happened if he hadn't hoped.

Dear Dr. Sheldrake,

Thank you for responding to my first question. Here is my second question. I'm having a hard time not hoping that my dog, Bart, will be waiting for me after school. I wonder how I can turn off my expectations. Are real scientists able to turn off their expectations? If so, maybe you can tell me how. Also I wonder if my family's expectations affect my experiment. I guess they must. Do you think if people have different expectations, they cancel each other out?

Sincerely,

George Masson

Dear George,

All scientists have expectations when they do experiments. If they didn't have any, they wouldn't bother to do the experiment. Usually they are testing a hypothesis, which is a kind of guess about the way things are. They can't possibly work as scientists without expectations, and nor can you. Either Bart is going to be waiting for you or he isn't, and whether you hope he is waiting will only affect him if he can pick up your thoughts, which is what this experiment is about anyway. So I don't think your expectations are a problem.

There could be a problem if people at home know when you're coming. If they expect that you're going to arrive at 4 p.m., for example, they might start behaving differently and Bart might notice this and start waiting because of their expectations. So in this experiment it's important that your family doesn't know exactly when you're coming home. Of course it's possible that skeptical expectations (like your brother's) could affect Bart if someone is at home with him thinking negative thoughts. They might put Bart off or distract him. So again, the best way to deal with positive or negative expectations of people at home is to come home at a random hour. Of course this would have to be arranged in such a way that your parents don't get worried and send out a search party.

Let me know how you get on.

Best wishes,

Rupert Sheldrake

 

9

On Thursday George had a dentist appointment after school.

“Who's going to watch for Bart?” he said.

Zac volunteered. “I'll do it. I'm home by three. Then Mom can leave to pick you up at school.”

George hesitated, remembering what Rupert Sheldrake had written him. George wasn't sure he wanted someone who didn't believe in telepathy to be part of the experiment, but then he decided it was actually a good idea. If Bart did go out to the step when Zac was there, then he would still be responding to George. “Okay,” said George.