The Case of the Lost Boy (8 page)

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Authors: Dori Hillestad Butler,Jeremy Tugeau

BOOK: The Case of the Lost Boy
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I trot back to Connor’s room. What else can I show her?

There is a picture next to Connor’s bed. It’s a picture of him, Mom, and some man I’ve never met. They’re all sitting on a front porch smiling. Is that Connor’s dad?

I grab the picture, but the glass is heavy and slippery. It’s hard to hold in my mouth. I have to balance it just so ... there! Got it. I bring it to Mom.

“Buddy!” She sets the picture next to the airplane and the shirt.

She’s getting mad now. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how else to tell her what I know.

All of a sudden she picks up the airplane. She turns it around in her hand. Her entire body freezes.

“I know Connor is unhappy about moving to Minnesota. I wonder if he’s trying to find a way to go back to California?”

“Yes!” I wag my tail.

“Maybe I should call the airport,” she says, and she reaches for her cell phone.

10
At the Top of the Moving Stairs

It’s a long ride to the airport. Mom doesn’t talk to me at all along the way. She just clenches the steering wheel and drives.

But it’s okay because I am IN THE CAR! I’m going to the airport to get Connor, too.

I didn’t ask if I could come. I just followed Mom out to the car. She didn’t notice me until she opened the door and I squeezed in ahead of her.

“Buddy!” she said. “You can’t come to the airport.”

I went all the way over to the window, sat down, and pretended I didn’t understand. Why not? That’s what humans do to us.

Then something surprising happened. Mom said, “I’ve seen dogs in airports before. If I’m going to bring you to school, I need to know that you can behave in public. Plus, I bet Connor will be happy to see you.”

And she let me stay in the car.

I can tell we’re getting close to the airport now. I smell airplanes. I hear airplanes. And I
feel
airplanes. I have never been so close to a real airplane before. I didn’t know that the whole earth shakes when they’re around. Now that I’ve smelled and seen them up close, I don’t think I like them very much.

Mom follows the road down below the ground and parks. It’s dark here, and there are more cars than I have ever seen in one place before. It smells like poison, but I know it’s only gasoline from all the cars.

Mom acts like she knows where we’re going, so I let her take the lead. I follow her all the way to a big building. When we get there, the doors open right up for us. Like the building is expecting us.

It’s very bright inside. And there are a lot of humans rushing around. Most of them are dragging suitcases on wheels. I want to chase the suitcases, but I don’t.

We need to find Connor. I don’t know how we’re going to find him in such a big place. I sniff and sniff, but I don’t smell him at all.

I do smell pizza, though. Over there, under that chair. Mmm. Pepperoni pizza. I grab it as we walk by. I LOVE pepperoni pizza. It’s my favorite food!

Mom heads for the stairs. But these are very strange stairs. They rise up out of the floor. And they move. So if you step on them you can just stand there. You don’t have to climb them. They keep moving up, up, up until they disappear into the floor again at the very top.

I’m not sure I want to go on them. What if I disappear into the floor too?

But Mom doesn’t give me a choice. “Come on, Buddy,” she says, giving my leash a tug. And before I know it, I am on the strange moving stairway.

Help me! I don’t want to be sucked into the floor ... I don’t want to die ...

But all you have to do is step off the moving stairs when you get to the top. No problem.

Mom and I keep walking. We turn a corner and walk some more.

My nose twitches. Bacon ... eggs ... toothpaste ... dirt ... There are other smells mixed with the bacon, eggs, toothpaste, and dirt. I smell a bus and potato chips and turkey, too. But I’m sure all of it mixed together is Connor.

We come to a window where there’s a lady sitting at a computer in another room. Connor is in there with her. The lady gets up and opens a door. Connor rushes toward us.

“Oh, Connor!” Mom cries, hugging him really, really tight.

“Stop, you’re squishing me,” Connor says. But he’s hugging her back. I can tell he’s just as happy to see her as she is to see him.

I lick both their arms and Connor’s face. I am happy that they are happy.

And I’m
so
happy that this mystery is solved.

Mom and Connor talk for a while about human stuff like how you should never run away. And how you should never get on a bus without telling someone. And how scared Mom was when Connor didn’t come back with me this morning. And how much Connor misses his dad and his friends.

To tell the truth, I don’t pay much attention. Now that the Case of the Lost Boy is solved, it’s time for me to start thinking about the Case of the Missing Family again.

I still want to solve that case. But now I’m a little bit worried about what’s going to happen when I do solve it.

Who will I live with?

I always thought I’d go back to Kayla and her mom and dad. They are my people.

But what about Connor and his mom? They
need
a dog. Mom needs a dog she can take to school. That’s not something any dog can do.

And Connor needs a dog to be his friend. His
buddy
.

Plus they picked me at the
P-O-U-N-D
.
They weren’t supposed to. Humans don’t pick dogs; dogs pick humans. But they picked me, anyway. Because they
wanted
me. How do you leave people who want you so much?

Here’s the question:

Is it possible for a dog to have more than one family?

I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to find my other family before I can answer that question.

“Ready to go home?” Mom asks.

Connor nods.

As we walk back to the car, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out part of a smashed turkey sandwich. He tears it in half and hands one half to me.

Oh, boy! I LOVE turkey sandwiches.

They’re my favorite food!

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

copyright © 2010 by Dori Hillestad Butler

Illustrations copyright © 2010 Jeremy Tugeau

978-1-4532-1947-8

This 2011 edition distributed by Open Road Integrated Media

180 Varick Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com

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