Unleashed! (3 page)

Half an hour later, their skin glowing and hair cleaned, the kids huddled in the warm kitchen. The washing machine worked overtime.

Mr Lark stood looking out the window. ‘Back yard’s a bit of a mess,’ he said, the understatement of the century. ‘And there’ll be no mulberry pie. Shame.’

Clem and Bryce hung their heads. ‘Sorry,’ they said.

Darcy fought to keep a serious face. ‘Yes, sorry.’

They turned and waited for Mio to apologise.

‘Mio?’ prompted Darcy.

Mio sat in the kitchen wearing a tracksuit ten sizes too big. She looked at her rolled-up sleeves and rolled-up trouser legs. She looked at the war zone of a back yard. Her eyes began to twinkle. Her lips twitched. ‘I’m not sorry,’ she said.

Clem gasped.

Mr Lark cleared his throat.

The room fell silent.

Mr Lark ran his fingers through his snowy hair. Then he smiled, snorted, and said, ‘Neither am I!’

It was almost a week before the kids got to visit The Van again.

‘I’m sure someone’s been in our van and I’m going to prove it,’ said Mio, striding out of their classroom and talking as she went. With each step her hair swished across her shoulders, shimmering like silk in the afternoon sun. ‘My trap’s going to work.’

‘You bet.’ Clem linked her arm through Mio’s, saying, ‘Clever, Mio. We’ll soon know if there’s been an intruder or not.’ Darcy and Bryce caught up with the girls. They grabbed their bikes from the school rack and headed off.

At the doorway of The Van they hesitated. Inside was a sea of darkness. The sunlight
exploded behind their eyes till finally it dimmed and they could see.

There was the TV in the centre of The Van. There were the four milk crates placed around it. And there on top of the TV was the piece of cord. The bottle of water stood undisturbed.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Mio, reaching for the cord. It was twisted and tied in the shape of a tortoise, a loop for a head and interwoven strands for the shell.
‘Kame no Ko Musubi,’
she muttered, then translated for the others, ‘turtle shell knot.’ Her voice grew wistful. ‘It’s a knot my grandmother taught me for basketry. In Japan.’

‘Cool,’ said Bryce. He touched the pattern made by the cord. ‘Reminds me of a graffiti tag I once saw.’ He shrugged, then smiled at Mio. ‘Last year. Bad memories. Shouldn’t go there.’

Clem interrupted, asking, ‘Did you tie the turtle knot, Mio?’

‘It wasn’t me,’ said Mio, with a firm shake of her head. She turned the knot over and over in her hand, admiring the handiwork. The last time she had seen a knot like this was the day before she left Japan. Her neighbour gave her one for good fortune. Mio remembered her saying,
May it bring you ten thousand years of happiness.

‘Who, then?’ Bryce pointed to the knot. ‘It looks pretty complicated.’

‘It is,’ said Mio. She ran her fingers over the cord’s twists and turns.

‘Give it to me.’ Darcy took the turtle shell knot from Mio and held it in his open palm. ‘Pretty amazing. Wonder who did it?’

Bryce plucked at an imaginary guitar. He put his foot on a milk crate, crooning,
‘Who dat whisperin’ in de trees?’

‘Looks like you’ve been outsmarted, Mio,’ said Darcy, handing her back the knot.

Mio shrugged, trying to look like she didn’t care. Expertly she untied the knot, then looped the cord around her fingers, deep in thought. Finally, she spoke. ‘Whoever it was they know their knots. I used a
kicho musubi,
a precise knot, for the bottle. It’s almost impossible to undo.’ She slipped the cord in her pocket.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the air. ‘Come back here, you no-good beagle.’

‘It’s them!’ Clem dashed to the window and looked out, her eyes narrowing as she remembered the last time she saw the man and the dog. Darcy, Mio and Bryce followed.

‘Stupid dog,’ yelled the man, twirling a lead with a choker chain attached to the end. ‘Come back ’ere or I’ll give ya a hidin’.’

Clem’s heart started thumping. Blood rushed to her face. She gripped the curtain as she thought
out loud, ‘Hurt that dog, mister, and you’ll answer to me.’

‘Where are ya, ya blubber-brained beagle?’ The man was getting closer and closer to The Van. ‘You in here?’ He whipped the lead against the side. The choker chain clanged against the metal, making the kids jump. They exchanged frantic looks and hand signals.

Clem appeared in the doorway, her arms clenched at her sides as she asked, ‘What do you want?’

‘Ohhh.’ The man jerked with fright, then leaned against The Van with his hand over his heart. ‘You scared me.’

‘Me? Scare you?’ Clem stepped down from The Van. She halted in front of the man. He was taller than her by a good thirty centimetres so she had to look up. ‘You’re the one banging The Van and making threats.’

The man squinted as he inspected Clem and said, ‘You the girlie who wuz ’ere before?’

‘Yes.’

‘You a runaway?’ The man scratched the stubble on his chin and eyed her up and down. ‘You live ’ere?’

Before Clem could answer, Darcy poked out his head, then he, too, came outside. He sidled close to Clem but directed his question to the man.

‘What’s the problem?’

Mio and Bryce stayed inside.

Woof!
It sounded close.

‘Bloody dog,’ said the man, whirling around. His face was brewing scarlet. A muscle in his jaw went twitchety-twitch as he paced in frustration, straining to locate the bark.

Woof, woof

The man slammed his hand against The Van. ‘Mongrel!’

Clem scanned the alley as she asked, ‘Lost your dog? What sort is she?’ She was hoping that the beagle was getting away. But the next
woof
was still loud and Clem’s heart twanged with disappointment.

‘She’ll regret this.’ The man’s face had gone from red to pimple purple. ‘That dog’s a prize pain in the butt.’

‘Really?’ asked Clem, trying to distract him. ‘How come?’

The man hitched up his pants which had slid below his belly. ‘I’m a dog trainer, see. I get the troublemakers, the ones failin’ at sniffer dog school.’

‘Sniffer dog school? You’re joking.’

‘No, I’m not.’ The man’s shirt parted, revealing a mound of flesh in a forest of hair.

‘Sniffer dog school. Is that like for airports ’n’ stuff?’ asked Clem as she tried not to look at his tummy.

‘Yup.’ The man swung the choker chain so it wrapped around his hand. ‘I’m the dogs’ last chance, see. Toe the line and they’re on the squad.’

Clem spoke to the man but her eyes kept flitting down the alley. ‘And if they don’t?’

The man grinned, exposing a row of yellowy-brown teeth. ‘Send ’em to the pound.’

‘The pound!’ The breath caught in Clem’s throat. Her eyes widened. ‘Why would you send them to the pound?’

The man sniggered as he unwound the chain from his hand. ‘At the pound it’s all up to the dog, see. Act nice and they’re off to a good home. Act up and it’s the big kennel in the sky.’ His laugh made Clem shiver. ‘No great loss. They’re only rejects.’

Clem put her hands on her hips, saying, ‘But that dog’s beautiful. You wouldn’t dump it at the pound.’

‘Yes, I would.’

‘Why don’t you give her to me, then? I’ll take her.’

The man snapped, ‘’Cause I’m not done with her, that’s why.’

Before Clem could reply there was another
woof
! The man jiggled the choker chain, saying, ‘Wait till I get my hands on her.’

Clem stepped forward. With as much control as she could muster she said, ‘Hurt that dog and I’ll report you.’

The man’s lip curled. His chest heaved, his breath catching with raspy gasps. His eyes narrowed and almost disappeared. To Clem he looked like a rampaging bull and suddenly she realised that he was dangerous.

‘Threaten me, will ya?’ The man leaned down, going eyeball to eyeball, and Clem was hit by stale cigarette fumes and body odour. ‘Think you’re tough? I’ll show you tough.’ He slammed the lead against The Van.

Darcy jabbed his finger at the man, saying, ‘Beat it, mister. You’re not welcome here.’

Mio and Bryce stuck their heads out. Then they climbed out of The Van and stood beside the others.

‘No, you’re not.’

‘You should go.’

The kids stood in a semicircle. The man huffed himself up and clenched his fists but then a
woof
came from the direction of the warehouse. With one last glare, the man took off, calling the beagle a ‘waste of bloody space’.

‘He’s going to kill her,’ said Clem, unable to keep the panic from her voice. ‘We’ve got to stop him.’ She ran after the man but after only a couple of steps she pulled up. A few paces away stood the beagle, wagging her tail with the full-bodied swing of a hula dancer. Her eyes were sparkling and the ears were slightly raised.

Clem crouched on her haunches and held out her hand. ‘Here, girl!’ she crooned. Clem stayed still, not wanting to frighten the dog. The others stayed still, too. ‘Hey! Did that dog wink or is it my imagination?’ The dog winked again and Clem giggled. She winked back. Then with a gooey voice she scolded, ‘You’re in big trouble, little miss.’ The dog drew back its muzzle to show its top teeth, its mouth hanging open. Clem giggled again, then said, ‘She looks like she’s laughing.’

Mio peered at the dog. ‘She does a bit. Either that or she’s about to bite you.’

‘Never!’

Mio stepped closer. She pulled the cord from her pocket and held it up, saying, ‘We’d better catch her.’ She jerked her head in the direction of the warehouse. ‘Before he does.’

Bryce turned to Mio and asked, ‘And then what?’

‘I’m not giving her back!’ Although Clem smiled at the beagle her voice was like steel. ‘I’m not.’

‘Fine,’ said Mio, swinging the cord. ‘But we’ve still got to catch her.’

Darcy looked down the alley, his face grim. ‘And we’d better be quick.’

‘Come to dadd-y-y-y.’ Bryce held out his hand but the dog stayed out of reach. Bryce’s sleeve rode up, revealing inked-on symbols and patterns.

‘Still doing body art?’ Darcy asked. ‘Hey! You could cover your whole body and go on
Oprah
!

‘Very funny!’ Bryce pulled back and covered his arm. ‘I was bored. That’s all.’ At the look of disbelief on Darcy’s face he added, ‘I’ve stopped doing that stuff.’

‘Close ranks,’ ordered Mio, pointing to the gap. ‘We’ll barricade the dog in. Darcy, you go there, and Bryce, you’re here.’ The dog lay on her belly, cleaning one paw, her pink tongue persistent in its licking. Every now and again she glanced up. Mio continued, ‘Clem, fill that gap.’

‘I know, I know.’ Clem raised an eyebrow as she moved in. ‘You don’t have to tell me. I’m not an idiot.’

‘Gomennasai,’
said Mio with a soft voice. ‘Sorry.’

Step by step the kids closed the circle. The dog started on the other paw, but when the kids got too close she growled and scrambled to her feet.

‘Good doggie. Who’s a good doggie?’ Clem edged forwards, keeping her voice steady.

The dog’s tail gave a tentative wag but her hackles went up. She stood on three legs, the front one raised, ready to bolt.

‘Here, girl.’ Clem edged closer and held out her hand, pretending to have food. ‘There’s a good girl.’ She kept talking, her voice low and soothing. The others watched, knowing not to make a sound. If anyone could catch this beagle, Clem could.

‘That’s right,’ said Clem, gently putting her hands on its back then sliding them down round its belly. ‘We’re not going to hurt you. Where’s your collar?’ She rubbed the dog’s neck and looked around. ‘Must’ve fallen off.’

The dog stood stiff, its tail parallel to the ground, head tilted, nose twitching. Its front paw was still poised for flight.

‘Got you.’ With one hand Clem gripped the dog’s middle and with the other she fondled its head. ‘Such soft floppy ears,’ she said, then she lifted them up and peered inside. ‘Beagles are prone to ear infections,’ she informed the others. Then she scratched under its chin and laughed when the dog’s back legs collapsed and it had to sit down.

The others clustered round,
gooing
like a gaggle of grandmas. They all patted the dog, including Mio, even though she preferred cats. Mio tried to compare the beagle to her beautiful Japanese bobtail cat, Yuki, but she couldn’t. Yuki was a
treasured reminder of her old home. Nothing could come close.

‘Look,’ said Clem, pointing to a tan area on the dog’s snout. ‘Look at this mark. It’s the cutest thing. She looks like she’s been kissed by someone wearing lipstick.’

All of a sudden the dog growled. Before it could run away a loop of chain was slipped over its head and pulled short.

‘Gotcha! Thank you very much.’ The man’s words hacked through the air. He straightened up, then pulled the chain tighter, making the dog’s throat rattle. She started to cough.

Clem snatched for the lead, saying, ‘Don’t. You’re hurting her.’

The man ducked out of Clem’s way and began to drag the dog towards the park. ‘It’s my dog and I’ll do what I like.’ The cough turned into a fit of coughing.

‘You’re choking her!’ screamed Clem as she followed. Without thinking she grabbed the man’s arm. It was what she would do at home to her brothers. ‘Let her go.’

‘Get lost!’ With his free arm the man shoved Clem away, then he started to walk faster. ‘Go away.’ The dog’s head was twisted. She gurgled as though she was drowning. She could barely walk. Her legs flapped along the ground.

‘Stop it,’ said Clem. She hurled herself at the man, her left shoulder smacking into his chest.

Darcy saw the man’s arm come up and called out, ‘No! Clem, duck,’ but his warning was too late. The arm shoved Clem back and she tumbled to the ground.

‘Bully!’ cried Darcy, leaping to Clem’s defence. Bryce and Mio did, too. But they’d only taken a couple of steps when the man swung around, his fist raised. ‘Any closer, and she gets it.’

Darcy, Mio and Bryce froze.

Clem tried to get up. Her ankle was throbbing from where she’d fallen awkwardly and her back was aching. She looked at the small beagle fighting for breath and vowed that the man was not going to get away with this.

‘Abunai!’
Mio called to Clem. ‘Don’t move. He’s dangerous.’ Karate had taught Mio that there were times to attack and times to withdraw. This was a time to withdraw.

Clem stayed where she’d fallen. Her eyes rested on the dog then moved to the man. The ground was hard beneath her, gravel digging into her hands, but she didn’t feel it.

‘Don’t try it again.’ The man jabbed a threatening finger at Clem, then backed away. A spine-chilling howl filled the air. A howl that pealed like church bells at a funeral.

‘Please, don’t hurt her,’ pleaded Clem, staggering to her feet. A lump formed in her throat. ‘Please.’

The dog looked at Clem, its kohl-rimmed eyes deep wells of sadness. More howls ripped the air.

‘No-o-o-o!’ Tears streamed down Clem’s cheeks. The man walked down the street and through the gate to the park, jolting the dog with each step.

Darcy, Mio and Bryce ran over to Clem and Darcy threw his arms around her, making little shush, shush noises. Mio patted Clem’s arm, saying,
‘Baka!’,
the strongest insult she could think of, as she watched the man go. Bryce gave Clem a hug. Tears welled in his eyes and he didn’t try to hide them. For once, he was lost for song.