Page 6 of Molly's Story


  Somehow, I got the feeling that, around Gloria, I was never a good dog.

  That’s why I was so surprised when, one day while CJ was doing school, Gloria actually talked to me when I came into the kitchen.

  “There you are,” she said.

  Her voice was not very friendly. I kept my rear end lowered to show that I understood she was the boss, and I wagged a little, hoping she’d be happier if she knew I was no threat. She was standing near the refrigerator with the door open, holding something in her hand.

  I came a little closer to see if it might be food.

  “Yuck,” Gloria said. She often said that when I was around, but I never could figure out what it meant. “Look at this cheese. I swear I just bought it.”

  She glanced from the thing she was holding to me, and then she closed the refrigerator door. Too bad. There were things in there that I would have liked to smell some more.

  “Want a treat?” she asked.

  My rear end came untucked, and my head lifted. Treat? I knew that word!

  “A dog won’t mind a little mold, I guess,” Gloria said. She pulled some thin plastic away from the object in her hand, and an enticing, rich smell wafted out. Cheese! Saliva began to gather in my mouth.

  She broke off a chunk of the cheese, jabbed a long metal fork into it, and held it out to me.

  I sniffed at it hopefully. She held it still. I nibbled at it tentatively and hesitated, waiting for her to get angry, to call me a bad dog.

  “Go on, take it,” Gloria said impatiently.

  I pulled the cheese off the fork, dropped it to the floor, and ate in two gulps. Clearly, Gloria had decided that I was a good dog after all!

  “Here,” Gloria said. With a clang, she dropped the rest of the cheese in my bowl. How wonderful! CJ never gave me treats this big!

  “Make yourself useful,” Gloria said. “Ridiculous we spend so much on all that expensive dog food when you could just eat up stuff that’s gone bad.”

  I picked up the heavy block of cheese and then dropped it back into the bowl. I honestly wasn’t sure how to go about eating something this size. But when Gloria left the kitchen, I settled down to the serious work of gnawing one off one bite at a time.

  By the time I’d gotten it all down, I was drooling a little and very thirsty. I lapped up most of my water.

  Gloria came through the kitchen a few minutes later. “Finished?” she asked. “Okay, out!” She opened the door to the backyard and stood by it. I got the sense of what she wanted and hurried outside. It felt better out there, anyway. Gloria’s voice and posture said I was still a bad dog, while the cheese said I was good. It was confusing. I was glad to lie in the grass and not think about it for a while.

  The earth was cool against my belly, and the sun was warm along my back. I wished I had some more water, but it was too much trouble to get up and bark at the back door for Gloria to let me in so I could go to my bowl. For now, I was content just to lie there and fall asleep.

  When I woke up, I knew something was wrong.

  I was thirstier than ever, which didn’t make much sense, because my mouth was flooded with saliva. It was running out of my mouth and onto the grass. I shook my head, which made me dizzy, and I got up, but my legs were trembling so much it was hard to walk. All I could do was brace my legs far apart and stand there so that I wouldn’t fall, waiting for my girl to come.

  I don’t know how long it took, but my girl did come. I heard her footsteps inside the house. Then the door banged open.

  “Molly! Come! Come in!” CJ called.

  I wanted to be with my girl. I knew I was supposed to be with my girl. I took a wobbly step, holding my head low.

  “Molly?” CJ came out onto the grass. “Molly? Are you okay? Molly?”

  The last time she said my name, it was a scream.

  I wanted to go to her. I knew she was worried and afraid. It was my job to be near her, but I just couldn’t budge.

  When she came running to me and picked me up, I could hear her voice talking to me, but it sounded like my head was buried under the covers. Everything was muffled and quiet.

  “Mom! There’s something wrong with Molly!” CJ cried.

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Gloria’s voice answered from somewhere inside the house.

  “No! Mom! Come now! She has to go to the vet!”

  My stomach heaved. CJ set me down. Vomit exploded out of my mouth and into the grass.

  “What did you eat? What did you eat? Oh, Molly!” CJ cried out. “Mom, come now. You have to drive. Hurry up!”

  “Stop yelling. All the neighbors will hear you!” Gloria appeared in the doorway as CJ scooped me up again. “All right. But if she throws up in my car…”

  “Come on!” CJ shouted, running with me to the driveway.

  My girl sat in the back with me, holding me on her lap. “We’re going to the vet,” she told me as the car started moving. “Okay? Molly? Are you okay? Molly, please!”

  I knew that my girl needed something from me. I managed to lick her hand as it stroked my face. But it was getting dark in the car, darker and darker. I felt my tongue flop out of my mouth.

  “Molly!” CJ shouted. “Molly!”

  * * *

  I opened my eyes slowly, blinking again and again. All I could see was a fuzzy light. I felt sleepy, my head too heavy to hold up, my legs floppy. Had I somehow become a puppy again?

  I whined and squirmed a little, hoping to find my mother. But I couldn’t smell her. I couldn’t smell anything, really. I groaned, feeling myself begin to slide back into sleep.

  “Molly?”

  I jerked awake. It was CJ’s voice! My girl was near me!

  I blinked again and again, and my vision cleared. I could see CJ close beside me. She put her face next to mine.

  “Oh, Molly, I was so worried about you.” Her hands stroked my fur, and she kissed my face. I wagged, my tail beating softly on something metal. A table. I was in the vet’s office, I realized. I still felt too weak to raise my head, but I could reach out to lick CJ’s hand. Thank goodness I was still alive to take care of my girl.

  I’d been to see the vet before, and I knew her name was Dr. Marty. I didn’t like the way she smelled, but she did have good, gentle hands. She was standing behind CJ now, talking to her. “Her last seizure was very short, more than three hours ago. I think we’re out of the woods.”

  “But what made her so sick?” CJ asked, her voice a little tearful.

  “I don’t know,” Dr. Marty said. “She obviously got into something she shouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, Molly,” CJ said. “Don’t eat bad things, okay?”

  I licked her face as she kissed me again.

  After a while I felt better, and could lift my head, and then stand. I lapped up some water eagerly, and CJ took me home.

  Gloria sat in the front seat, driving. I could tell she was angry. The tension in her muscles and the way she held her head made it obvious. I huddled in CJ’s lap in the backseat. It was hard to imagine how I’d been a bad dog, when I felt so weak. But Gloria made me feel that way.

  CJ carried me inside and put me down on the soft cushions of the sofa.

  “Not on the couch!” Gloria said.

  CJ gave her an angry look, but she gently boosted me down to the floor and sat beside me.

  Gloria stood looking down at both of us. “Six hundred dollars!” she said.

  “Molly almost died!” CJ said back. Her voice was as angry as Gloria’s.

  Gloria threw out both hands in exasperation and walked down the hall to her room. Her door slammed.

  CJ scooped me up and carried me to her bed, where she cuddled me until I fell asleep again.

  It took me a few days to feel like myself. By the time I did, it was one of those days when CJ did not have to do school. Gloria had gone out, so we were both able to sit on the couch. CJ was looking at the screen on the wall, which I had learned was called a “TV,” and I was wondering why people liked t
o look at that thing so much. It didn’t even smell interesting!

  Then the doorbell rang. I hurried by CJ’s side as she went to answer it. One of my jobs was to inspect people who came to the door. She opened it, and her voice sounded surprised.

  “Oh, Shane.”

  “Hey,” Shane’s voice said.

  “Hey,” CJ said. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Shane said. “You want to hang out?”

  “Um. Here?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  CJ hesitated, but then she opened the door all the way. I still didn’t like Shane’s smell. I barked once to let him know that this was my house and I’d protect everything here. Then I wagged.

  “Okay, sure, I guess,” CJ said. “We’re just watching TV, me and Molly. You want to come in?”

  Shane came in, and he and CJ sat down on the couch to do more staring at the TV. I sniffed Shane’s shoes and jeans thoroughly, and he put his hand on my head and pushed me away.

  “She’s just trying to get to know you,” CJ said.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Shane mumbled.

  CJ scooped me up and put me on the couch between them. “Is this okay to watch?”

  “I guess,” Shane said. “Do you have anything to eat?”

  “Sure.” CJ got up, and I jumped down to the floor. “No, you just stay there,” she told Shane. “I’ll bring it out.”

  I followed CJ into the kitchen. She was happier there than she’d been in the living room, so I wagged a few times. We heard the volume of the TV go up in the other room.

  CJ got a wonderfully crinkly bag out of the cupboard and poured some glasses full of something that fizzed. Then she carried all this back into the living room. She handed the bag to Shane, so I went and sat next to him.

  I knew exactly what was in those bags. I watched his face carefully. Sooner or later, I knew, a chip would fall to the floor. It always did.

  “So.” Shane crunched. “That art class is a drag, huh?”

  “I kind of like it,” CJ said. She was twisting a shoelace around her finger.

  Shane put another chip in his mouth. Couldn’t he tell that I was sitting right here in front of him? Didn’t he understand about sharing? The chips in the bag were for him. The ones that fell on the floor were for me. That was how CJ and I always did it.

  “You’re kidding.” Shane snorted. Then the doorbell rang again. It was hard to leave the chips to go with CJ, but it was my job, so I did it.

  Before the door even opened, I knew it was Trent. My tail began to swish back and forth in a wide arc.

  “Hey, how’s Molly?” Trent asked as soon as CJ opened the door. “Molly girl! There you are!” He bent down to take my head in his hand and rub his fingers along my ears. I wiggled happily.

  CJ was smiling. “She’s better. See?”

  “Hey, CJ, you coming back?” Shane yelled from the living room.

  Trent straightened up. His grin faded.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Somebody I know from art class,” CJ said. “Come on in, Trent, we’re just watching TV.”

  “Uh, no, my mom said I had to mow the lawn,” Trent said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. I leaned against his knees to remind him that my ears could use more attention.

  “Can’t you do it later?” CJ asked.

  “No. She said now. I just wanted to check on Molly,” Trent said.

  “Come over later?” CJ asked.

  Trent shrugged. “Glad Molly’s okay,” he said, and he hurried away down the front walk.

  CJ went back into the living room slowly. She didn’t sit on the couch again. Instead, she settled down into a chair across the room. She and Shane looked at the TV for a while, until the bag of chips was empty. Then Shane left.

  He didn’t even feed me one chip.

  9

  The next day, after school, we did art building. I didn’t get to sit on a table this time. That was all right, though. I walked through the room and got petted as much as I wanted, and then I settled down by CJ’s easel.

  She was frowning, rubbing paint onto a rectangle of canvas with a fierce look of concentration. But she was happy, too. I could just tell. I lay down close enough to her that I could reach over and touch her with my nose if I needed to, and I dozed for a while.

  When I woke up, the students were splashing water in a sink and opening and closing doors. CJ, though, stayed right at her easel, even after the other kids all piled out of the door.

  Shane went, too, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head lowered. He didn’t talk to anybody.

  Sheryl came over to talk to CJ. “How much longer do you think you’ll need?” she asked.

  “Maybe another hour?” CJ said. “Thanks for letting me stay late.”

  “Far be it from me to interrupt inspiration,” Sheryl said. “But I do have to run down to the office and take care of some paperwork. Are you okay on your own? I’ll be back to lock up.”

  “I’m fine,” CJ said. “Anyway, I’m not on my own. Molly’s with me.”

  Sheryl smiled. “See you in a little while, then. I’ll just lock the outside door before I go.”

  CJ and I were alone in the art building.

  I did a quick tour of the room, in case any of the students who’d left had dropped something interesting to eat. Then I settled down by CJ’s side again.

  “You’re a good girl, Molly,” she whispered. “Not too much longer, okay?”

  Somebody knocked on the door that led outdoors. CJ jumped, and a brush fell on the floor with a splat.

  I sniffed, but it wasn’t edible. “No, Molly, don’t lick that!” CJ said, snatching it up. She hurried to the door. I kept close by her.

  CJ stared through the door’s window. “Shane?” she asked.

  The knocking came again. “Come on, CJ, open up!” Shane’s voice called.

  CJ twisted a latch that stuck out from the door’s surface. Then she tugged at the knob and opened it, but not all the way. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Sheryl took my cell phone,” Shane said from the other side of the door. “Hey, let me in, CJ. Don’t be like that. She said she’d give it back to me at the end of class, but I guess she forgot. And I need it. I have to call my ride, or I’ll just be standing out here all night. Come on.”

  CJ pulled the door open farther and took a step back. “I guess. Come in.”

  Shane stepped inside. I stayed near CJ. Her voice was tight, and she hugged her arms across her chest. I could tell she was nervous. This wasn’t my house, so I didn’t need to protect it from Shane, but I did need to protect my girl.

  Shane hurried across the room to a big desk where Sheryl often sat or stood when she was talking to the children. He pulled open one drawer, then another, and stuffed something into his pocket.

  “Got it!” he said.

  “So, okay,” CJ said. “Should I tell Sheryl you took your phone back, or…?”

  “Man, CJ, why would you do that?” Shane shook his head and laughed. “I thought you were cool. Just don’t say anything, right? She doesn’t like me. You’d probably get in trouble for letting me in. Hey, I’ll come over another day, watch more TV or something. See you!” He hurried out of the door. CJ looked after him for a moment before she shut it and twisted the metal latch again.

  She went back to her easel, but she wasn’t as happy as she’d been before. She only painted a few more minutes before she carried the brushes to the sink and ran water over them. By the time Sheryl came back, she was ready to go.

  The next day, after breakfast, CJ went out into the yard with me. She was throwing a ball, and I was chasing it when Gloria called out of the back door.

  “CJ, some teacher’s here to see you!”

  I snatched up the ball in my mouth and followed CJ inside.

  Sheryl was standing in the hallway. I bounded up to her, and she rubbed behind my ears, but not for very long. I was disappointed. I thought Sheryl understood about ear rubs.

&n
bsp; She was frowning, but not in an angry way. More as if she were worried. Ear rubs would probably help with that.

  “CJ, I need to talk to you about something,” she said.

  “Um.” CJ looked worried, too. “Okay. Come in.”

  “Your mother should probably be present,” Sheryl said, walking into the living room.

  “Why?” Gloria came in from the kitchen and stood stiffly by the door. “Is there some kind of problem? My daughter’s gone to that art class every week. She hasn’t missed a day. If the school is saying she hasn’t—”

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” Sheryl sat down. So did CJ. I brought the ball to my girl and nudged her hand with it, but she didn’t throw it. I lay down on the floor by her feet with a sigh. People, not dogs, usually decide when games are over. I wished it could be the other way around.

  “Did you let someone into the art room last night, CJ?” Sheryl asked.

  CJ froze. I bounded back up. My girl was afraid! I pressed close to her side. She looked back and forth from Gloria to Sheryl. She opened her mouth and closed it again.

  “I need you to tell the truth, CJ,” Sheryl said. “Please don’t try to protect anyone. This is serious.”

  “Protect?” Gloria sat up stiffly in her chair. “Who would she be protecting? What’s the point of all these questions?”

  “Could you just let CJ answer, please, Mrs. Mahoney?”

  “It’s Miss,” Gloria said.

  I put my head in CJ’s lap and whined a little.

  CJ put both hands on my head and smoothed back my ears. She bent low, close to my face. “You’re a good girl, Molly. It’s okay,” she said.

  Then she lifted her head and looked at Sheryl. “I let Shane in. He said his phone was in your desk, and he needed it to call whoever was giving him a ride.”

  I could sense Sheryl relaxing. Her shoulders went down a little, and her hands settled quietly in her lap.

  “What did Shane do after you let him in?” she asked quietly.

  “He just got his phone out of your desk and left again,” CJ answered.