Philip and the Angel (9781452416144) (3 page)

“
Owww!” Philip barked as he slid along
on his knees.

“
Rorrff,” the dog barked
back.

Philip got up and stared at the dog, which
now sat quietly in the driveway looking back at him.

“
Will you calm down?” Philip growled at
him.

“
Grrrrrr,” the dog replied and started
running. Philip ran, too.

“
Wait, wait, wait. This is where I
live,” Philip called as the dog tore past his house and down the
street. Philip managed to stop the dog and turn it around, but the
dog kept on running.

“
No, no, no, here,” cried Philip as he
and the dog charged past his house a second time. Philip again
turned the heavily panting dog, and finally convinced it to try the
path leading to his front door. Halfway there the dog sat down and
panted some more.

Philip panted, too. “You think
you’re
tired! Come on. We’re almost
there.” Philip pulled one way and the dog pulled the other, but
little by little Philip forced the stubborn dog to his front door.
He opened the door and dragged the dog inside.

“
Philip!” His mother stood ten feet
away from him, her mouth wide open.

Philip could feel the wet mud on the right
side of his face. He looked down. His sock hung halfway off his
foot like a long, muddy tongue. Both knees of his jeans were torn
open, and he knew his knees were scraped and bloody. Grass stains
spotted his jeans, and his ripped shirt hung off his right
shoulder.

“
Mom,” Philip huffed and puffed, “this
cute little dog . . . just followed me home.” Philip took three
deep breaths. “Can I keep him?”

Chapter Five

“
Look how cute he is, Mom. I’ll call
him Shep.”

“
Philip, don’t take the rope off . .
No, don’t!”

The dog lurched free, barked, and flew
straight up the stairs to the second floor.

“
Philip, don’t let that dog run around
the house,” his mother screamed. “Go get it.”

Philip dropped the rope and started for the
stairs, but he stepped on his floppy sock and stumbled.

“
Fix your sock,” his mother
ordered.

Philip ripped his sock off and charged up the
stairs. Halfway up, Philip stopped. The dog stood at the top of the
stairs, its tongue hanging out, staring at him.

“
Rorff.” The dog leaped down the
stairs, knocking Philip in a circle. He clung to the banister until
he regained his balance and took off after the dog
again.

His mother screamed, and Philip watched the
dog disappear into the kitchen.

“
Philip, open the front door and chase
it out! Hurry, hurry!”

Philip threw the front door open then ran
into the kitchen. The dog stood on the kitchen table with a giant
piece of meat in its mouth, looking as proud as if he’d caught the
winning touchdown in a football game.

“
Hey, put that down,” Philip
ordered.

The dog leaped from the table and charged out
of the kitchen. Before Philip could react, he heard his mother
scream again.

“
That’s our dinner! Philip!
Philip!
”

“
I’m coming, Mom.”

The dog ran in circles around the living room
before covering the length of the sofa in two giant steps and
bumping an end table, making the table lamp wobble dangerously.
Philip ran to catch the lamp in case it fell, but it managed to
settle down on its own. By now the dog had run around the hallway
twice. Philip’s mother waved it toward the door.

“
Shoo. Shoo.”

Philip ran to help her. “Go, go!” he shouted.
“Out! Rahhhhhhhh!”

Philip’s final scream sent the dog tearing
out the door and back into the neighborhood, the Felton’s roast
beef dinner still in its mouth. Philip stood on his doorstep and
watched his new pet speed between two houses a little way off and
disappear.

“
Come back,” he yelled. “Shep!
Shep.”

Suddenly, he grew conscious of the silence
behind him. He turned slowly. He had never seen a look on his
mother’s face like the look she wore now. He went inside and
followed his mother’s weary steps into the living room. There were
muddy paw prints across the sofa. His mother went to the wobbly
lamp and put it back in the center of the table. She turned and
walked out of the living room toward the kitchen. Philip followed
her. An empty plate with a small puddle of brown juice on it sat on
the kitchen table. A half-gallon container lay on its side on the
floor amid a white sea of spilt milk.

“
Let’s look upstairs,” his mother said,
in a voice so quiet it frightened Philip more than if she’d started
screaming.

Philip followed behind as his mother climbed
the stairs. They poked their heads into each of the three bedrooms.
They looked untouched, but on the floor of the bathroom they
noticed a small, yellow puddle.

Philip’s mother stared at the puddle and then
at him.

“
At least it knew to use the bathroom,”
said Philip in a small voice.

“
Philip Felton. I want you to go to the
kitchen closet and bring me the mop. I am going to have you clean
up every little bit of mess that dog made, and then your father and
I are going to sit down with you . . .”

They both heard a distant voice say,
“Whooaaa! Honey?”

“
Upstairs,” Philip’s mother called.
Philip wondered how she could talk with her teeth clamped so
tightly together.

They stood silently and listened to Mr.
Felton’s steps approach. Philip’s father entered the bathroom and
sniffed.

“
What happened in the kitchen? And what
smells?”

Philip’s mother pointed.

“
What’s that? What
happened?”

“
Philip brought a dog home. A wild dog.
A crazy dog. A mentally deranged dog. A dog that belongs in an
insane asylum. It ran all over the house, put mud on the sofa,
nearly broke our one-hundred-and-fifty dollar lamp, stole the roast
we were going to have for dinner, and
peed
on our bathroom floor.
That’s
what happened.”

Philip’s father looked his way.

Philip gave him a weak smile. “It was a
little cute dog, and he followed me home. I didn’t know it was
crazy. It didn’t look crazy. It looked like a regular dog.”

His father didn’t respond.

“
I’m sorry,” Philip said
quietly.

His mother left the bathroom saying, “I’ll
get the mop. You talk to him.”

They listened to Mrs. Felton’s steps fade
away.

“
Let’s go into your room. I’m afraid
your mother may break the mop over your head if you’re here when
she gets back.”

Philip followed his father down the
hallway.

“
What happened?” Mr. Felton asked as
soon as Philip seated himself on his bed.

Philip shrugged. “Emery’s got a dog and I
wanted a pet, too. This little dog followed me home, but when we
got inside, he went crazy and ran all over the place. I guess he
felt nervous.” Philip looked up as his father let out a deep
breath. “I was going to call him Shep.”

“
Flipper, I can’t think what to say to
you that you can’t imagine yourself. You have to ask before you do
anything like that.”

“
It’s always
no
to a pet.”

“
Well, if no’s the answer, no’s the
answer. You can’t take it upon yourself to change it.”

Philip didn’t answer.

“
Stay in here until I come and get you.
I’m going to help your mother clean up.”

“
She said I should.”

“
Well, I will. You wait
here.”

Philip watched his father close the
bedroom door behind him. He thought of Angel.
Her plan worked. Mostly. Shep’s the one who messed it up. If
he just acted normal . . . but he didn’t.
Philip lay
back on the bed and closed his eyes. In the distance he could
vaguely hear his parents’ voices. He
didn’t
want to know what they were saying to each
other.

Chapter Six

“
You almost had a dog?” Emery said as
he and Philip walked home from school on Tuesday.

“
Almost.” Philip told him the story.
“He stole our dinner, put muddy footprints all over the sofa,
almost broke a lamp, and peed on the bathroom floor.”

“
I guess you’ll never get a dog now,”
said Emery in a sorry voice.

“
How’s Hansel?”

“
He’s fun. My mom lets him sleep in my
bed, but he keeps licking my face in the morning when it gets
light. My mother doesn’t have to wake me up any more.”

Philip wished something would lick his face
every morning.

“
Well, I gotta go walk Hansel. Want me
to come and get you when I’m done?”

“
Yeah.” It was a beautiful day—so
beautiful it had been hard to pay attention in school.

“
Want to ride our bikes to the park?”
Emery called before he turned up his walk.

“
Sure.”

Philip thought of Emery entering his house
and of Hansel being so happy to see him and running up to him.
Emery would pet Hansel and play with him for a few minutes before
putting on the collar and leash and taking him for a walk. Even
dealing with the plastic bag didn’t seem like too much trouble if
he could only be doing what Emery was doing now. He sighed and
looked around. He passed by Angel’s house as a car pulled into her
driveway. Angel’s mother got out of the car on one side, and Angel
got out on the other.

“
Wait for me to come around,” Angel’s
mother called to her.

“
Hi, Angel,” said Philip.

Angel smiled and waved. “I’m okay, Mom.” She
beckoned Philip closer. “Did it work?” she asked.

“
Well, it’s a long story.”

“
Want to come in for a minute? Mom,
this is Philip. Okay if he comes in a little while?”

“
Well, not too long, honey. You know
what the doctor said.”

“
Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The woman took Angel by the elbow and started
walking toward the front door.

“
Mom, I can walk, for Pete’s sake. Go
and take care of the groceries.”

“
All right. All right,” the woman
answered.

Philip followed Angel into her living
room.

“
Would you like something? Apple
juice?” Angel’s mother asked, a plastic grocery bag in each
hand.

Philip looked at Angel.

Angel nodded and sat wearily on the
sofa. The woman disappeared. “
Two
doctors’ visits this week. So, did the dog show
up?”

Philip sat on a chair and told Angel his
story. Angel started smiling in the middle of the story, giggled
twice near the end, and laughed for a long time when the story
ended.

“
Well,” she finally managed, “I know
the dog is glad he met you and your mother even if your mother
isn't glad she met him. You gave him your dinner?”

“
We didn’t
give
it to him. He grabbed it in his mouth and
ran out with it.”

Angel’s mother brought the apple juice and
left the children alone.

Angel laughed quietly. Philip guessed
it
was
kind of funny, but
thinking about it didn’t make
him
laugh. His mother hadn’t said much to him since then. She
only talked to him to give him orders. This morning when she said
good-bye before he left for school, she’d said, “And don’t bring
anything home from school. Just yourself.” And going out the door
in the morning his father asked him whether everything was all
right. Philip had nodded but thought,
Except I don’t have a pet.

“
So you got any other plans?” Philip
asked. “Your first plan would have worked good, but the dog . .
.”

Angel took a drink of juice. She moved around
on the sofa.

Philip noticed a funny look go across her
face while she squirmed.

“
You could always mention the dog after
your parents calm down. Tell them you saw the poor dog again, and
it looked so skinny and helpless and tell them how much you’d take
care of it. You’d know what to say.”

Philip shook his head. “Impossible. The
dog is out. Every dog in the world is out. Every
pet
in the world is out.”

“
Too bad. I wish
I
could have him. Shep’s not a bad name.” Angel’s
mother called and Angel made a face. “You have to go now. I have to
get back in bed.”

“
Bed? Now?”

Angel shrugged. “Doctor’s orders.”

“
Why do you go to the doctor’s so
much?”

Angel made a funny twist of her head. “Oh, I
have to do what they tell me. Sometimes I get sick. But I’ll think
about your problem. It’s a tough one, but it’ll give me something
to do.”

Angel’s mother called again, and Angel slid
slowly off the sofa.

“
Let me know if you make any progress
with the dog story.”

Philip shook his head. “It won’t work.”

Angel walked Philip to the door. “Let me know
anyway. Bye.”