Bulldog Won't Budge

  “Um,” I said. “You know what? This episode will be done in twenty minutes. OK?”

  Mercy and Faith looked as outraged as their cats. I guess I don’t say no to them very often. Their mouths opened and closed.

  Quickly I added, “Hey, did you hear the message on the machine for you? Some guy named George.”

  That got their attention.

  “George?” Faith said.

  “George Marvell?” Mercy demanded.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Something about a rally.”

  “I’ll call him back,” Faith said, jumping toward the stairs.

  “No, I’ll call him back!” Mercy shouted, chasing after her. They both thundered up the stairs like a herd of girl buffalo racing to get to the cutest boy buffalo.

  “Why aren’t girls falling all over themselves to call me, huh, Meatball?” I asked, scratching the wrinkles on his head. He opened his eyes a crack, gave me a look like there was no hope for me, and fell asleep again.

  I imagined calling poor George to warn him about my sisters. That would definitely get me smothered in my sleep.

  Tony got home next. He came into the living room, jingling his keys in his pocket, and squinted at the TV.

  “Hey Eric,” he said. “Whatcha watching? This looks serious. Are you allowed to watch that?” Tony is still working on sounding like a dad. Mostly he sounds like a TV version of a dad, but I know he’s trying.

  “I’ve seen these episodes before with Mom,” I said. “She said I could watch them as long as she watched them, too, in case she needed to talk to me about anything.” I have to say, I think it’s pretty cool to have a mom who’ll watch Battlestar Galactica with me, although I wouldn’t tell the guys about that.

  “Oh,” Tony said. “OK. Um. Did you do your homework?”

  See what I mean? “I don’t have much,” I said. “I’ll finish it after dinner.”

  Tony nodded, but I could see that he was wondering whether to tell me I should do it now.

  “I figured I’d hang out on the couch with Meatball for a bit,” I explained.

  “Oh, yeah, sure,” Tony said, smiling at the dog. “Can I watch the news when this is over?”

  “Sure,” I said. He came in and sat on the other side of Meatball, which was kind of funny because he had to squish himself in between Meatball’s giant butt and the end of the sofa. He rubbed Meatball’s belly, and the dog rolled over to let him, without really waking up.

  “Anything new in school?” Tony asked during the next commercial break. “How’s your new teacher?”

  “Mr. Peary is cool,” I said. “He’s kind of obsessed with Leonardo da Vinci.” Mr. Peary had been sneaking in da Vinci stuff slowly since the first day. There was a poster of a da Vinci drawing on the wall behind Mr. Peary’s desk. His mug had a little flying machine designed by Leonardo printed on the side. We weren’t even studying the Renaissance yet — we were still learning about Ancient Egypt — but Mr. Peary kept bringing up da Vinci anyway, and he got this shiny look in his eyes whenever he mentioned him. It was kind of funny. From the way Mr. Peary talked about him, it sounded like Leonardo da Vinci would be everyone’s hero by the end of the semester.

  “What about your friends?” Tony asked. “Any of you have a girlfriend yet?” He gave me his big-toothed smile. He’s always teasing Parker about being a ladies’ man, because girls talk to Parker all the time, although as far as I know Parker isn’t interested like that in any of the girls in our class.

  “No, no, no,” I said. “No way. Nuh-uh.”

  “You sound very sure about that,” Tony said, grinning.

  “Oh, look, the episode’s over,” I said. “Time to do my homework.” I passed him the remote and woke the slumbering beast on top of me. Meatball sat up and let Tony scratch his head for a second, and then he followed me up the stairs to my room.

  The cats were lurking down the hall by Faith’s room, but they didn’t come any closer as I slipped through my door. Meatball rolled on the carpet for a minute, snorting enthusiastically, and then wriggled himself under the bed until only his butt and little fat tail were sticking out. Soon I could hear his snores shaking my bed.

  I turned on my computer and found a bunch of messages from Parker and Danny and Troy, wondering where I was. Parker was still signed in to chat, so I wrote to him.

  I’m home, I typed. Why? Is something happening?

  Where were you? Parker wrote. You’re always online!

  Walking Meatball, I wrote back. And watching TV downstairs. I’m not ALWAYS online!

  Yeah, OK, whatever, he said.

  Something pinged in the background. I was getting a message from someone called “Maltizu.” That didn’t sound familiar. I clicked on it.

  The message said, Hi Eric! So it was someone who knew me.

  Hi, I wrote. Who’s this?

  It’s Rebekah!

  My heart plummeted into my shoes. Oh, man. Oh, man. Why was she writing to me all of a sudden? I stared at the screen. I had no idea what to say to her. The cursor flashed for a moment. And then a new message popped up.

  Hey, did I see you outside my house today?

  I panicked. Listen, I’m not brave like Harry Houdini. I’m not cool like Parker. I’m just Eric. I do not casually chat with girls like Rebekah every day. I know, I sound like such a coward. But what would you have done?

  Me, I did the stupid scaredy-cat thing. I hit the power switch on my computer and jumped away from it. And I know better; I know how you’re supposed to shut down a computer properly. But I kind of freaked out. My computer went EEEERRrrrruuuu and the screen went black.

  I sat down on the floor and buried my head in my hands. Meatball crawled out from under the bed and gave me a puzzled look with his forehead all wrinkled up.

  “This is all your fault,” I said to him. “You are a very bad dog.”

  He tilted his head one way and then the other. And then he decided that what I needed was to have my face licked off.

  “ACK, STOP!” I yelped. “Meatball! OFF!” I braced my hands against his broad shoulders and tried to hold him back, but he threw his whole body at my face with a very determined expression. His head mushed up into the fat wrinkles around his neck and his giant pink scratchy tongue went SLURP SLURP along my cheek until I gave up and fell over backward, laughing.

  Pleased, he sat on my chest and beamed down at me.

  “You’re not forgiven,” I said. “We might not even keep you, you know. You should try to be less of a pain.”

  In response, Meatball drooled on my T-shirt.

  I didn’t turn on my computer again for the rest of the night. Finally Parker called to see if I was OK. I told him I was having computer trouble, but I don’t think he believed me. It was a pretty new computer, and he knew I’d be freaking out more if there was anything wrong with it. I wasn’t going to tell him about Rebekah, though. I was embarrassed enough.

  I felt more and more nervous thinking about school the next day. What would I say to her when she asked me in person? When I woke up in the morning, it was like lots of tiny Meatballs were banging around in my stomach, crashing into the walls and scrabbling through my insides.

  Mom was in the kitchen drinking coffee when I came downstairs with Meatball. Faith was burning toast in the toaster. She likes it that way for some reason.

  As I put on my shoes to take Meatball out, I said, “Mom, I’m not feeling so great. Could I maybe stay home today?”

  “Oh, whatever,” Faith said, rolling her eyes.

  Mom frowned and felt my forehead. “You feel normal.” Mom’s vet side always comes out when I’m sick. I half expect her to hide my medicine inside a dog treat one day without noticing.

  “It’s my stomach,” I said, and I wasn’t even exaggerating. Every time I thought of Rebekah, I felt really queasy.

  “Big faker,” said Faith. She grabbed the raspberry jam from the fridge and stuck out her tongue at me behind Mom’s back.

  “Well,” Mom said
, tapping her chin, “all right, but I can’t stay home with you. I have too many appointments. Do you want me to see if Tony is free? Or your dad?”

  “No, I’ll be OK by myself,” I said, relieved. That’s the upside of being a good kid. Mom would never have believed Mercy or Faith if they wanted to stay home sick, because they try it all the time to get out of big tests and stuff. I’d never done this before — I usually go to school even when I am actually sick. (OK, I’ll admit it: I don’t like being home alone all day with Ariadne and Odysseus.) So she figured I must be serious.

  “I’ll leave Meatball with you, then,” she said. “Call me or Tony if you need anything.”

  “He just wants to stay home with that stupid drooling dog,” Faith said.

  “Faith, leave your brother alone,” Mom said absentmindedly, picking up the newspaper.

  I ducked out the door before Faith could suck me into an argument. Meatball and I wandered around the yard for a bit, and then we went back up to my room and waited until everyone was gone.

  I knew I couldn’t hide at home forever. But maybe by tomorrow Rebekah would forget about seeing me at her house.

  After nine o’clock, I figured it was safe to turn on my computer again. Everyone I knew would be at school. There was no chance of Rebekah chatting with me now.

  I clicked through a few more e-mails from Danny and Troy and checked my favorite websites, but there was nothing interesting. I didn’t even feel like watching TV. I just wanted sixth grade to be over.

  Meatball nosed his way under my desk and lay down on my feet, grunting.

  “What should we do?” I asked him. “We could go scare off the cats again. That was fun.”

  Snort, Meatball offered, closing his eyes. His floppy jowls were all pooched up on the carpet.

  “OK,” I said. “I guess I’ll finish my essay.” I leaned over in my chair, trying not to disturb Meatball, and grabbed my jacket from the bottom of the bed. I rummaged in the pocket for my flash drive.

  “That’s weird,” I said, turning the pocket inside out. I felt in the other one. I checked my pants pockets from the day before. I emptied out my backpack and searched through the whole thing. Then I checked my jacket again.

  Finally it hit me.

  My flash drive was gone.

  This was a disaster. It wasn’t just that I’d lost the first half of my essay and would have to start over. If anyone found the flash drive, they’d have all my homework from the last month and a bunch of personal things, too — notes about my Houdini website and magic tricks and ideas I’d had for birthday presents for my friends and photos of Merlin and even this dumb video of me doing a magic trick that I’d had Troy record for me. I mean, I write practically everything down in my computer somewhere, and then I back it all up on the drive. That’s what you’re supposed to do — but you’re not supposed to lose the drive afterward!

  Just in case, I checked the pockets of everything I’d worn in the last week. It was nowhere. I tried to think. What had I done with it? Meatball was watching me with this placid, unworried expression.

  “Oh, sure,” I said. “It’s not your life that could be out there for anyone to find.”

  He slurped his big pink tongue over his nose and closed his eyes, going smack smack smack with his mouth.

  “You didn’t —” I said. “No, you wouldn’t — would you?”

  Could Meatball have eaten my flash drive?

  I knelt down beside him and lifted his drooping jowls to look at his teeth. He opened his eyes, startled, and let out a woof of surprise. His expression was so indignant and innocent that I almost believed he knew what I was accusing him of. His breath smelled like dog biscuits.

  Suddenly I remembered when I’d last had the drive. I had felt it in my pocket outside of Rebekah’s house.

  “This is your fault!” I cried, poking Meatball in the side. “It must have fallen out while we were running away.”

  I jumped to my feet and Meatball scrambled to his paws too. His tongue flopped out and the corners of his mouth turned up as he grinned and wheezed.

  “Man, I hope Rebekah didn’t find it,” I said, rubbing my head. I didn’t think there was anything on there about her … but what if there was? Plus then she’d definitely know it had been me outside her house. “We’d better go look for it now, while she’s at school.”

  Meatball did an excited wriggle-dance that started with his butt and ended with his front paws flying up and then landing in a play bow.

  “I should leave you behind,” I said sternly. I checked my watch. It was nearly ten a.m. There was no way Rebekah would be home; probably no one would be there. But it would look much weirder if I was lurking around her house without a dog. Just to be safe, I had to take Meatball.

  “OK, but don’t be an idiot this time,” I said, leading him downstairs. He snorted and cavorted around the kitchen for a while until I got his leash on. I could see Odysseus’s black tail lashing from a high shelf in the pantry. Ariadne was probably busy digging a tunnel to my room to exact her revenge.

  I checked all around the back door first, which was tough because Meatball was raring to go. He pretty much dragged me all the way down the driveway, plowing ahead with his strong, sturdy legs. I leaned back and stared at the ground on either side of me, but I didn’t see my flash drive anywhere.

  Meatball wanted to go the same way we’d gone the day before, and we had an enormous struggle at the bottom of the driveway as I tried to drag him one way and he tried to drag me the other. But finally I got him walking along the path we’d taken home from Rebekah’s. Once we were moving, it was easier to look for the flash drive, because once again Meatball had to stop and sniff everything.

  Not when we got to the top of Rebekah’s block, though. I was kicking a few leaves aside, checking underneath them, when all of a sudden Meatball’s ears twitched forward. His big nose went SNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF! And then he bolted down the street toward Rebekah’s. I mean, I had no idea a fat dog like that could move so fast. The leash flew out of my hands before I realized he was moving, and then he was just a blur of brown and white charging along the sidewalk, stubby legs pumping madly.

  “Meatball!” I called. “Sit! Stay! STOP!” Of course, we hadn’t learned “sit” yet, or anything that a normal dog like Merlin could do. I raced after Meatball.

  He skidded to a stop outside Rebekah’s house and mashed his face into the slats of the fence. It was like he was hoping he could press himself through the tiny gap if he just pushed hard enough and wanted it badly enough. He pawed at the fence and let out a little whine. I caught up to him, gasping for breath.

  “What is wrong with you?” I demanded. “Why are you such a crazy dog? What is your obsession with this house?”

  He sat down and leaned into the fence, giving the yard beyond a mournful, big-eyed look, as if it was his long-lost mother and he’d finally found her after years of searching.

  I looked from Meatball to the house and back. “Meatball — this isn’t your house, is it?”

  Meatball snorted, but that was his answer to everything. Well, I wasn’t about to ring the doorbell to find out. Maybe I’d tell my mom and see what she thought.

  In the meantime, I had to find my flash drive.

  I tied Meatball’s leash to the fence, although he sure didn’t seem like he wanted to go anywhere, and then I walked slowly up and down the sidewalk, studying every inch of it. Leaves, twigs, two pennies, a silver gum wrapper … but no flash drive. I noticed a drain in the gutter next to the sidewalk. Could it have fallen in there? I crouched down to look more closely.

  Meatball let out a little whine.

  “It’s OK,” I said over my shoulder, poking a stick through the holes. I thought I saw something reflected down there. “We’ll be done in a second.”

  “Looking for this?” said a familiar voice.

  I froze. It can’t be. I turned around slowly.

  Rebekah was standing on the other side of the fence, holding up m
y flash drive.

  But —” I sputtered. “But — you — what — but school!” I know. I was a conversational genius. This is what happens to my brain when I’m around Rebekah.

  “You’re supposed to be in school too!” she said. She was smiling. She didn’t look like she hated me for being a weirdo stalker lurking around her house.

  “I … um … I mean, I’m … um, sick,” I said lamely.

  “That’s too bad. I have a dentist appointment,” she said. “In an hour. Mom said I could stay home for the morning. Hopefully I don’t need braces.” No way did Rebekah need braces. Her teeth were perfect. “Cross your fingers for me!” she added. She crossed the fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding my flash drive. Then she noticed me looking at it.

  “Oh, here,” she said, handing it over. “So it was you out here yesterday, right?”

  “Uh,” I said, wondering if I could disappear into the drain behind me. “Oh — yeah. I mean, uh …” I pointed at Meatball.

  “Were you saying hello?” she said to the dog, leaning over the fence to scratch Meatball’s head. “Yeah, I’ve seen you using that flash drive at the computer lab, so I figured it was you I saw. Don’t worry, I didn’t look at the files.” I shoved it in my pocket with a relieved sigh.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Why?” she added, smiling mischievously. “Are there big dark secrets on there?”

  “No!” I blurted. “No, no, no.”

  “You do that a lot,” she said, leaning on the fence. “When you say “no,” you say it three times. Like you’re casting a spell on people so they’ll believe you. I mean, in the books I read, three is always the magic number, so that’s what it seems like to me.”

  I didn’t know I did that. “What books?” I said, and then felt like the bravest person alive. I’d asked Rebekah Waters a question!

  “I like fantasy stories,” she said. “With magic and stuff. I’ll read anything by Diana Wynne Jones. And I love the Prydain Chronicles and The Dark Is Rising and oh my gosh, don’t get me started. So this is your dog? I didn’t know you had a dog.”