Hotel For Dogs (4 page)

Sundays in Elmwood were far from Bruce’s favorite days. Except for the fact that there was no cleaning to do, they were almost as bad as Saturdays.

It wasn’t that he minded going to services. Church had been part of Sunday for as far back as he could remember. It was just that, back in Albuquerque, church had been the beginning of the day, like an introduction. The family had gotten up early and gone and come home again, with the rest of Sunday still ahead of them waiting to be used.

In Elmwood, church and preparing for it consumed most of the day. Aunt Alice liked to rise late, so breakfast didn’t start until the middle of the morning. Then, there was getting ready, which was a stressful experience. Because there were so many of them in such a small amount of space, there
weren’t enough closets and bureaus, and people were seldom able to find the things they needed.

“I’ll sure be glad to get into our own place,” Bruce grumbled as he plowed through the pile of laundry stacked in the sewing room closet. His own bed was the sofa in the den, and he was supposed to keep his clothes in the same chest of drawers as his sister. “You’ve got those drawers so crammed with your writing junk there’s no room for anything. Why don’t you throw out some of those notebooks when you’re through with them?”

“Those poems may be valuable someday,” Andi said practically. “Imagine if Shakespeare had saved the things he wrote when he was ten!”

“You can’t compare yourself to Shakespeare,” Bruce said. “He was a genius. He sold every single thing he wrote, and you can’t sell a thing.”

“I may sell something this week,” Andi said pleasantly. “I mailed a poem to
Ladies’ Home Journal
two whole weeks ago, and they haven’t sent it back. Besides, how do you know that Shakespeare sold everything? He probably just didn’t let people know when he didn’t.”

Andi was in an unusually sunny mood. She had slipped over to the hotel early that morning to give
Friday a bath and her breakfast and was anticipating another long visit with the puppies — which she had named Tom, Dick, and Hairy — in the late afternoon. There had been sweet rolls for breakfast, and she had managed to grab two of them, and it was quite possible that she might become a famous author with the arrival of tomorrow’s mail.

In contrast to such cheeriness, Bruce’s mood grew darker and darker. He could not find a clean shirt, and his good shoes were missing, and the resulting search took so much time that they were all late to church. Then it turned out to be Communion Sunday, which took an extra half hour, and afterward Aunt Alice ran into some friends and had spent at least twenty minutes chatting with them. By the time they were home and at the dinner table, the whole day seemed to have dissolved with nothing to show for it.

Actually, these new irritations were only partly responsible for Bruce’s depression. It had started yesterday with his battle with Jerry. Every time he thought back to the boy’s cocky grin and his own undignified ride in the wagon and the sight of the frightened dog cringing between the traces, anger rose within him until it nearly choked him.

“That creep shouldn’t be allowed to own a pet,” he told Andi afterward. “You should have seen him after that car hit the wagon. Red Rover could have been killed, but that didn’t worry him. He was mad because his wagon was broken and the driver of the car wouldn’t pay for it.”

“He’s the meanest person I know,” Andi had agreed readily.

Still, she hadn’t been as upset as she should have been.

“How old are puppies when their eyes open?” she had asked a moment later, and Bruce had been disgusted. What use was a sister with a temper if she didn’t lose it about things that were important?

Sunday dinner was finally reaching its end when the phone rang. Aunt Alice rushed to answer it. A few moments later she returned to the table, shaking her white head regretfully.

“The saddest thing has happened,” she said. “That was Mrs. Gordon on the phone. She called to tell us that Jerry’s dog is missing.”

“That big red setter?” Mr. Walker looked up in surprise. “Why, I thought I saw the kids out playing with him yesterday.”

“They’re afraid the dog may have been stolen,”
Aunt Alice said. “He’s quite valuable, you know. Either that or he’s run off somewhere. Children, be sure to keep your eyes open for him when you’re outside playing.”

“If he’s run off, he’ll be back,” Mr. Walker said. “When a pet gets hungry enough, it comes home.”

“I hope he doesn’t,” Bruce said. “I hope he finds himself another home and never shows up around here again.”

“Why, Bruce!” His mother turned to him in amazement. “What a terrible thing to say!”

“I can’t believe that of our sweet, kind Bruce!” Aunt Alice looked shocked. “Even if you and Jerry have had a spat, dear, you can’t wish for something awful like that. Why, think how heartbroken he must be!”

“If he is,” Bruce said, “it’s because he’s lost something that belongs to him, not because he loves Red Rover. He’s so used to having everything just how he wants it that he’s mad now because it isn’t, that’s all.”

“Bruce, dear —” His mother caught his eye and raised her brows in a little that’s-enough-for-now expression.

“May I be excused, please?” Andi asked.

From her face, Bruce could tell that she had not been listening to any part of the conversation. Her whole mind was at the dog hotel with Friday and the puppies.

“Don’t bother with clearing or anything,” she said sweetly to her mother and Aunt Alice. “I’ll do the cleanup.”

“Why, Andi, that’s three dinners in a row!” Aunt Alice beamed at her great-niece. “What a thoughtful little girl you are! Your mother is so lucky to have such a helper in the family!”

“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Walker said doubtfully. Both her parents were looking at Andi in a funny way.

“I like to help,” Andi said. “It’s practice for when I’m grown and have my own kitchen.” Hopping up from her chair, she began to carry out the dishes.

When Bruce came out to the kitchen a few minutes later, Andi was standing with her back toward him. When the door swung open, she bent over to conceal what she was doing.

“It’s just me.” Bruce let the door swing closed behind him. “What are you trying to do, make the whole family suspicious? All that ‘I like to help’ business. Couldn’t you see Mom looking at you like she thought you were sick or something?”

“Well, it wasn’t all a lie,” Andi said defensively. “I
will
have a kitchen of my own someday. Of course, by that time I expect to be rich and famous enough to hire maids to take care of it.”

“You’d better start wishing yourself rich right now,” Bruce said. “At least, rich enough to buy some dog food. You know you’re not going to get away with this for long.” He gestured toward the bowl of chicken and vegetables that his sister had been filling when he entered.

“I don’t know about that. It’s worked pretty well so far. Mom thinks Aunt Alice eats up the leftovers for a bedtime snack, and Aunt Alice thinks Dad does, and they’re all too polite to say anything.” Andi picked up the bowl from the counter. “I’m going to take this over to Friday.”

“Load the dishwasher first,” Bruce advised her. “Somebody might come out here to check on how you’re doing.”

“I’m just going to be a minute!” Andi opened the door and, holding the bowl carefully so the gravy wouldn’t spill, started out into the yard.

A moment later she was back.

“Bruce, he’s out there!”

“Who?” Bruce regarded her blankly.

“Jerry Gordon’s dog! He’s over in the corner of the yard. He’s dug a hole under a bush and he’s lying in it, and he looks awful.”

“Red’s
here
!” Pushing past his sister, Bruce hurried out the door.

There was a dog, all right, under a bush as Andi had described. For a moment he could not believe that the dog was Red Rover.

Gone was the shiny coat, the proud lift of the head, the gaily waving plume of a tail. This dog’s hair was dull and lusterless, matted with mud and burrs. His tail was curled under him, and his head was pressed against the ground. He did not lift it when Bruce approached or even when he spoke to him. A frayed rope circled his neck.

“It’s the harness. He must have tried rubbing it off and got it pushed up around his neck.” Bruce knelt on the ground and began to work on the knot. It was like a lump of steel beneath his fingers. The rope itself was so tight that he could not get so much as a fingernail beneath it.

Andi, who had been watching in horror, ran back to the kitchen. When she returned, she was carrying a paring knife.

“Will this help? Maybe you can cut it.”

“I hope I can do that without cutting Red.” Bruce took the knife and began sawing nervously against the thinnest part of the rope.

The dog slumped beside him, too miserable to care what was being done to him. When the rope gave way at last, he drew a long rasping breath and looked up gratefully into Bruce’s face, but still he didn’t try to move.

“He could have been strangled.” Bruce ran his fingers gently along the dog’s throat. There was a raw, hairless circle where the rope had cut into the tender skin. “He couldn’t have lived that way much longer. If you hadn’t found him and we hadn’t gotten that rope off, he would have died.”

“Right next door to his own home!” Andi’s voice was low and shaken. “He’d rather dig a hole and die in it than go back to Jerry. Oh, Bruce, imagine how scared he must be of him if he would do that!”

“Don’t worry, old fellow.” Bruce caressed the drooping head. “I’ll take care of you. Nobody’s ever going to hurt you again.”

“But if we take him back —” Andi began.

“We’re not going to,” Bruce said quietly. “We’ve got a new tenant for our hotel.”

Getting Red Rover to follow them was not difficult. The big dog seemed to realize that Bruce was his new master. All he had to say was, “Come, Red,” and the poor animal struggled to his feet and allowed himself to be led through the backyard of the house next door and across the vacant lot to the dog hotel. The problem came with getting him through the window.

“We’ll never make it,” Andi said, studying the distance from the ground to the sill and then turning to evaluate the size of the dog. “He’s too heavy to lift that high. Do you suppose we could get him to jump?”

“Not in the condition he’s in now,” Bruce said. “The poor thing can hardly even walk. We’ll have to try lifting him. There’s no other way.”

A voice spoke from behind them. “Why don’t you rig a ramp?”

Bruce froze. Then he turned slowly to face the speaker.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a low, tight voice.

Tim Kelly regarded him calmly.

“Looking for you. I saw you crossing the lot, but I couldn’t catch up with you.”

He paused and then repeated his original statement. “You could put up a ramp. We’ve got some old lumber over at my house if you want to use that. All it would take would be a couple of boards propped against the sill.”

“You’re a spy!” Andi burst out furiously. “I’ve seen you with Jerry! You’re one of his gang, and you’re going to run back and tell him we have Red Rover.”

“That’s crazy,” Tim said. “If I was going to do that, would I be offering you boards for a ramp?”

“What’s the deal?” A little color was beginning to come back into Bruce’s face. “Why do you want to help us hide Red?”

“Do you think I want Jerry to get another crack
at him?” Tim asked. “I was in on that scene yesterday, remember? What do you think I am, some kind of monster? I wouldn’t send any animal back to that.”

“I thought you wanted to be part of the gang,” Bruce said. “You don’t want to be a loner, do you? You told me you didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have to be, would I?” Tim said slowly. “I mean — well, one friend, the right kind of friend — is worth more than being part of a mob of guys following along behind a dictator like Jerry. Anyway, that’s the way it’s beginning to seem to me.” His blue eyes were questioning. “How about you?”

Bruce nodded soberly, but inside he felt like cheering.

“It’s
always
seemed like that to me,” he said.

The boys stood silent a moment, a little embarrassed by the sudden change in their relationship.

Then Tim grinned. “Okay, that’s settled. Now, how about we go over to my house and get those boards?”

“Wait a minute,” Andi broke in cautiously. “Before you can be part of the hotel staff, you’ve got to promise on your honor that you won’t tell
anybody. Not just about Red, but about Friday, too. And Tom and Dick and Hairy.”

“Tom, Dick, and Hairy?” Tim looked bewildered. “Who are they? Who’s Friday?”

“They’re the rest of the dogs,” Andi explained. “They have the pink bedroom. I think we should give Red the family room. That way he’ll have more space to move around in when he starts feeling better.”

“You mean you’ve got four dogs in there already!” Tim exclaimed incredulously.

“You have to promise,” Andi persisted.

“Of course he promises,” Bruce said. “Now, you stay here and keep an eye on Red, while Tim and I get the stuff for the ramp.”

Tim’s house turned out to be the gray one with the yard full of swings and bicycles across the street from Aunt Alice’s. The lumber he had spoken about was stacked along the side of the house.

As they selected the boards they would need, Bruce noticed several round, freckled faces, much like Tim’s, gazing down at them from an upstairs window.

“Those are my sisters,” Tim said. “I told you how nothing over here is ever private. They’ll think we’re
taking the boards over to Jerry’s. He’s been talking about wanting to use them to build a clubhouse.”

“Well, Jerry will know that’s not where we’re taking them,” Bruce said, glancing worriedly in the direction of the Gordons’ house. There was no way to get the boards across the street except to carry them openly. Although no one was in evidence, he could not help the uncomfortable feeling that Jerry was somewhere peering at them. “Which is his window?”

“It’s the ground-level window on the side facing your aunt’s house,” Tim told him. “That’s where he has his bedroom. Actually he’s got the entire basement all to himself. He’s got a pool table and a big-screen TV and a kind of gym setup for working out. All he has to do is ask for something and his parents get it for him.”

“Let’s carry the boards down the driveway into our backyard,” Bruce suggested. “That way, if Jerry’s watching, he’ll think we’re going to build something back there. Then we can cut over through the yard next door and across the lot to the hotel.”

As they were crossing the yard, Mrs. Walker opened the back door and called out to them.

“Bruce, did you find your sister?”

“She’s — well, she’s right around here,” Bruce said awkwardly. “I just saw her a minute ago.”

“I want you to tell her to come home immediately,” his mother said in an exasperated voice. “She said she would do the kitchen, and she hasn’t even rinsed off the plates. Aunt Alice gets terribly upset when things are left a mess.”

Andi was sitting in the grass in the yard behind the hotel. She had Red Rover’s head in her lap and was gently stroking his ears.

“You don’t have to tell me — I heard her,” she said, when Bruce and Tim came up to her. “She sure was yelling loud. Mom never used to yell that way.”

“You’d better get over there,” Bruce said. “You did say you’d do the cleanup.”

“I didn’t say when I’d do it,” Andi said. “At home Mom never minded if we let the dishes sit for a while before we loaded the dishwasher. Why should it matter so much here?”

“Because it does, that’s all.” Bruce lowered his end of the boards to the ground. “How do you want to do this, Tim?”

“Simple.” Tim lifted the ends he was holding and leaned them against the window ledge. Side by side, they became a slanted bridge between the window and the ground. “Now comes the tough part — getting Red to walk up it.”

“I’ll go inside and call him,” Bruce said.

“That won’t work. He doesn’t come when he’s called. I’ve seen Jerry call him lots of times, and he just cowers and pretends he doesn’t hear.”

“He’ll come to me,” Bruce said with certainty.

Walking to the top of the ramp, he turned to face the dog. “Here, Red!” he called softly. “Come up here with me!”

Without an instant’s hesitation, Red Rover lifted his head from Andi’s lap and got stiffly to his feet. Crossing to the ramp, he staggered up it until he reached Bruce.

“See!” Bruce’s voice was triumphant as he gently eased the big dog through the window. A moment later both were inside the house.

“He’s picked you for his master, that’s for sure,” Tim said, when he and Andi had joined Bruce inside. He glanced about with interest. “Where are the rest of your boarders?”

“In the front bedroom.” Andi darted ahead to lead the way down the hall. “Friday just loves it. It’s so sunny and pretty. Of course, Red is a man’s dog — he’ll like the family room. It’s all wood paneled.”

Friday’s room, when the door was thrown open, was as much of a surprise to Bruce as it was to Tim. He had not been in it himself since they had settled the dogs in, and though he knew that Andi had been spending all of her free time here, he had not guessed the extent of her activities.

The room shone! Gone were the dust and the cobwebs that had collected during the long period when the house had stood empty. For a girl who did not like housework, Andi had swept and scrubbed until the floor and woodwork gleamed. The glass of the windows had been cleaned so that the sunlight flooded through, bringing the pink-papered walls to vibrant life.

But this was not all. A pink throw rug lay across the bare boards of the floor. Pink rosebud curtains hung at the side window. A bed, fashioned from a clothes basket, sat in the corner of the room, and, inside it, a fluffy white dog and three puppies lay,
curled in luxurious comfort, on a pillow that said “Bone Sweet Bone.”

“That’s not Friday!” Bruce exclaimed. “Friday’s brown!”

“The brown came off,” Andi said. “That was just dirt. I washed her with Snow White Shampoo for Senior Citizens, and now her hair’s the exact same color as Aunt Alice’s.”

“But this
room!”
Bruce gestured in amazement at the transformation. “Where did you get all the stuff to make it look like this?”

“Different places.” Andi looked smug. “I found the rug up in Aunt Alice’s attic. It was just lying there, all rolled up in a corner. The basket was down in the basement. It had old magazines in it.”

“How about the curtains?” Bruce stepped closer to examine them more critically. “This isn’t old cast-off stuff. This is brand-new material. It hasn’t even been hemmed. And that pillow is just like the one Bebe had at home.”

“Nobody was using the material.” Andi began to look uncomfortable. “It was in the sewing closet. And it
is
Bebe’s pillow. I brought it with me to remember her by. I didn’t think she’d mind my lending it to Friday.”

“She probably wouldn’t,” Bruce said. “But that material is not yours. Aunt Alice must have bought it for some reason. That’s stealing, Andi! You can’t take material that somebody paid good money for and cut it up for fun.”

“It wasn’t for fun,” Andi said. “It was for Friday. She’s a new mother. She needs to have pretty things around her. Besides, Aunt Alice was never going to make anything out of that. I’m sure she wasn’t. She hasn’t sewed a single thing since we’ve been living with her.”

“How could she when you’re sleeping in the sewing room?” Bruce reminded her. “It can’t be the greatest thing for the old lady, having a family land on top of her like this. I bet she’s counting the days until she can have her house to herself again and sew like crazy.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Andi said decidedly. “I bet she got that material on sale without having any use for it. She’s probably been looking at it ever since, just wishing it wasn’t there.”

“Why did you use it on just one window?” Tim asked her.

“Because that window’s on the side of the house where the bushes are. If I’d done the front one,
people could have seen the curtains from the street.” Andi turned pleadingly to her brother. “You do think they look nice, don’t you, Bruce?”

“It’s not a question of whether they look nice,” Bruce said. “The thing is, you’ve cut up something that doesn’t belong to you. You’re going to have to replace that material, Andi. You can’t just
take
things, even for Friday.”

“You took Red,” Andi muttered. “That’s stealing too, isn’t it? I bet a dog like Red Rover costs a lot more than some old cloth.”

“That’s different,” Bruce said defensively. “I took Red for his own sake.”

He paused as the logical part of his mind fought with his feelings. Red Rover was a valuable dog, of that there was no question. Mr. Gordon undoubtedly had paid a good price for him when he bought him for Jerry.

“I’ll pay them,” he said now, after a moment of consideration. “I’ll find out how much a good Irish setter costs, and I’ll save up the money and pay it. I’ll leave it in an envelope in the Gordons’ mailbox.”

“It looks like this hotel is getting to be an expensive operation,” Tim remarked. “What about food? How are you paying for that?”

“I’ve been taking table scraps,” Andi said. “Bruce thinks that won’t work much longer.”

“It sure won’t after today,” Bruce said. “Not after the way you copped out on cleaning the kitchen. From now on you’re going to have Mom or Aunt Alice standing over you every time you pick up a dish towel.”

“I’ve seen how Red Rover eats,” Tim said. “You’ll never take care of him with table scraps. It’s going to have to be dog food, and plenty of it. I guess we’ll just have to go to work and start earning.”

“We?”
Bruce said. “This isn’t your responsibility. It’s Andi and I who got ourselves into the hotel business.”

“Well, I’d like to be a partner,” Tim said. “That is, if you want me. I’ve never had a dog of my own. This way I can be part owner of five of them.”