Charlie Joe Jackson's Guide to Not Growing Up (13 page)

Finally, the doctor came back out, without Moose. “We're going to need to do a few tests,” she said. “I think it's something with his liver or his stomach.” She took a beat before saying the next sentence. “I can't rule out anything at this point. With dogs this age, there are a lot of possibilities.”

“Like what?” I said. I could feel my stomach start to ball up in a knot. “Like cancer? Dad?”

My dad put his hand on my shoulder. “It's okay, Charlie Joe. We don't know anything for sure yet.”

Dr. Dixon looked at me, then at my dad. “It's best if we keep Moose here tonight. We should know a lot more tomorrow.”

“I'm staying with him,” I announced. “Moose needs me here. I'm staying.”

“That's not possible,” said my dad. “You have graduation.”

“It is possible.”

“You can't stay with Moose overnight. Isn't that right, Dr. Dixon?”

Dr. Dixon, who was writing in her pad while pretending not to eavesdrop, nodded.

I shook my head. “That's okay, I can stay with him until bedtime.”

“You're not being reasonable,” my dad said. I could hear the desperation starting to creep into his voice. He was going to get upset in about two seconds.

“Dad!” I looked back and forth from him to Dr. Dixon. There was no way I was going anywhere. I played the only card I had left.

“It's my birthday. I can do whatever I want on my birthday.”

“You want to skip your middle school graduation?” my dad asked, his voice rising a tiny bit. “Where all your friends are? And your teachers? After winning that award? You seriously want to do that?”

I didn't even have to think for a second.

“Yes.”

“Oh, for god's sake,” said my dad. Then he sighed loudly and scratched the back of his head for what seemed like five minutes.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I'll go call mom.” He went back outside to the car, where he'd left his phone.

I looked at Dr. Dixon, who finally put her pen down.

“You must really love that dog,” she said.

 

Part Three

THE END (OR THE BEGINNING, DEPENDING ON HOW YOU LOOK AT IT)

 

15

5:38 pm

I knew Moose was glad
I was there, even though he didn't really show it.

He wasn't doing much of anything, except sleeping. He was on some kind of medicine that made him super tired. Besides, Moose slept a lot even when he was feeling great. All dogs do, especially older dogs.

But every once in a while, his eyes would open, and he would see me, and his tail would move just a little bit, and I knew he was happy I was there.

We were in a small room, with just one small light on, so it was pretty dark. My dad had left to get me something to eat, and the doctor was busy working, so I was there by myself. There wasn't a lot to do, so I went back over the whole day in my head. Jumping in the pool at Jake's house with Teddy, then driving around to The Scooper Bowl, and Jookie's, and the baseball field. And Moose and Coco were with me the whole time. They loved that, right? But maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was too much to think Moose could just be running around all day, eating French fries and PowerBars and half-eaten hot dogs. He was an old man by now. Even if he wanted to come, it wasn't a good idea.

Maybe this whole thing was my fault.

I got up to pet Moose. “I'm sorry, Schmoo,” I said. “From now on I'm just going to let you snooze under the tree in the front yard and eat healthy dog biscuits. You've earned it. Think of it as a nice retirement.”

He looked up at me and put his paw on my arm.

It was getting hot in there, and I realized I was still wearing my ridiculously uncomfortable dress jacket. While I was folding it (okay, throwing it) on the chair, something fell out of the inside pocket. It was the laminated copy of the story I wrote, which I'd been given as my award.

I looked at it. It was called “Moose and Bear.”

“It's named after you,” I told Moose.

I hadn't read it since I'd turned it in about three months earlier.

“I wonder if it's any good,” I said again, also to Moose. But he wasn't listening—he was fast asleep again, snoring away.

I looked over the story—it wasn't that long. And it's not as though I had a lot of other things to do, sitting there watching my snoozing dog.

So I decided to read it.

 

MOOSE AND BEAR

By Charlie Joe Jackson

This is Moose.

This is Bear.

They're best friends.

They live in the same house.

But they're confused.

“You don't look like a Bear,” said Moose.

“You don't look like a Moose,” said Bear.

“Bears have growly voices,” said Moose. “Let me hear you growl.”

Bear growled. Moose shook his head.

“That was not a growl,” said Moose. “That was a whisper.”

Bear was insulted.

“Moose have antlers,” said Bear. “Let me see your antlers.”

Moose showed Bear his antlers. Bear shook his head.

“Those aren't antlers,” said Bear. “Those are furry little ears.”

It was Moose's turn to get insulted.

“I don't care what you say,” Moose said. “I'm a moose.”

“And I don't care what you say,” Bear said. “I'm a bear.”

“Prove it,” said Moose.

“Prove it,” said Bear.

So they went outside.

Moose pointed to a tall tree.

“Bears climb trees,” he said. “Climb that tree.”

“Be glad to,” Bear said.

She scrambled up to the first branch.

“The whole tree,” Moose insisted.

“Absolutely,” Bear said.

She scrambled up to a higher branch.

Then she looked down. The ground was very far away.

“I think I'm stuck,” said Bear.

“Some bear you are,” said Moose.

Then Bear pointed at another tree, even taller than the first tree.

“Moose eat leaves,” she said. “Eat those leaves.”

“Easy peasy,” Moose said.

He jumped up to the first branch and ate the leaves.

“All the leaves,” Bear commanded.

“Not a problem,” Moose said.

He jumped up to a higher branch and ate some more leaves.

Then he looked down. The ground was very, very far away.

“I think I'm stuck, too,” said Moose.

“Some moose you are,” said Bear.

So there they sat.

Moose in one tree.

Bear in the other tree.

And neither one could move.

Soon, it started to get dark.

Moose and Bear were tired and scared.

Then Bear looked at Moose.

“Maybe you're not an ordinary moose,” she called to her friend.

And Moose looked back at Bear.

“And maybe you're not an ordinary bear,” he called back.

They looked at each other.

“You're an extraordinary Moose,” said Bear.

“You're an extraordinary Bear,” said Moose.

They both thought about that for a minute.

And they felt better.

Then, Moose lifted his head.

“I hear someone!” he said.

They looked down and saw their owner walking in the yard.

“Wow, how did you hear her?” Bear asked Moose.

“My extraordinary antlers,” Moose said proudly.

Bear started yelling. “We're up here! Help! Help!”

Their owner heard Bear and stopped.

“Wow, how can you yell that loud?” Moose asked Bear.

“My extraordinarily growly voice,” Bear said proudly.

Then their owner looked up and saw Bear and Moose.

“Moose! Bear!” she called. “I've been looking all over for you two! How did you get up there?”

They were too embarrassed to answer.

Their owner got a ladder and got Bear down from one tree.

Then she pulled Moose down from the other tree.

Moose and Bear hugged each other.

Then their owner hugged them both.

“Silly dogs,” she said.

And Bear and Moose were more confused than ever.

THE END

 

16

5:50 pm.

“That's a pretty good story,”
I whispered to myself.

My phone buzzed.

A text from Dad:
Mom and me on way, need anything?

I texted back:
Nope. Just Moose to get better!

Dad:
I know. See you in a few.

I looked down at my snoring dog. “Moose, do you sometimes wish you never grew up?” I whispered. “Are you able to remember back when you were a puppy? Do you remember when we first got you, how young and strong you were? Is it hard getting older? Is it hard growing up? Don't you wish you could have stayed young forever?” I petted him, and he stirred a little bit. “Sometimes I do,” I told him. “Sometimes I wish I could stay a kid forever.”

A minute later, I heard someone calling me down the hall.

“Charlie Joe?” It was my mom.

“Where are you, birthday boy?” called my dad.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I wasn't exactly in the mood to see anybody right then. Sitting there with Moose was the most relaxed I'd felt all day.

“We have a surprise for you!” called my mom.

“In here.” I called back. I rubbed my eyes, got up, and opened the door.

Then I rubbed my eyes again. Not because I was tired—because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

My parents were standing there. And behind them were about twenty kids from my class.

Timmy, Katie, Jake, Pete, Hannah, Eliza, Nareem, Phil, Celia, Mareli, Erica, Emory—the whole gang, and then some. They were all there.

My sister, Megan, was there, too, holding Coco on a leash.

I blinked a few times, as if I were seeing things. But everyone was still there.

“What—what's going on?”

My mom was smiling. “What do you mean? Last I checked, it was your birthday, and birthdays demand parties, don't they?”