Dog Heaven Read online

  Maya studied his silvery handlebars. “I didn’t know you had a bike.”

  Frankie shrugged. “Who doesn’t have a bike?”

  “Tito.”

  “Sure he does.”

  “Really?”

  “He just doesn’t ride it.”

  This was interesting, but I didn’t have time for it. “We have to go now.”

  “Where?”

  “Uh … a place.”

  “We’re going to see his dog,” Maya said.

  “Your dog don’t live at your house?”

  “Uh,” I said. “Not yet.”

  Frankie looked down the street. Like he was checking to see if anyone he knew was around. “I like dogs.”

  I stared at him. “Uh … you can come, too.”

  Frankie turned his bike around. “Let’s go.”

  Wow. Julio, Willy, and Rubin would never believe this.

  “It’s kind of far,” I said.

  “Pshh. Far is Tahiti. Far is Hong Kong. Where we going?”

  “Dog heaven.”

  Frankie grinned. “Cool.”

  The Humane Society wasn’t crowded. It was a weekday afternoon, so people were still at work.

  Streak was stretched out in her kennel.

  “Yes!”

  All my worries evaporated. I ran up and fell to my knees. “Streak, it’s me! Come here, girl.”

  Streak’s head popped up. Her eyes looked like bullets.

  “It’s me, Streak. Calvin.”

  Streak trotted over, her tail wagging.

  Frankie looked at the ID card. “This ain’t Streak, it’s Ruby.”

  “Yeah, but I call her Streak.”

  Frankie knelt between me and Maya. He stuck his fingers through the fencing. Streak licked them. Frankie grinned. “Yeah, you a good dog.”

  Streak glanced at me and ran a circle in her cage.

  Frankie laughed. “So, Coconut, if this is your dog, when you going bail her out?”

  Good question. “Soon.”

  “You need money, or what?”

  “Worse.”

  Streak came back and leaned up against the fence. Frankie cooed and scratched her head. “Maybe we can go inside the cage.”

  “You think so?”

  “Never know till you ask, ah?”

  Maya watched him leave. “He’s not so bad. I mean … well … you know.”

  I nodded. It was strange, all right. Frankie’s future-criminal friend Tito would never get caught hanging around a couple of fourth graders. “Funny how somebody looks mean and he’s not.”

  “Yeah.”

  Frankie came back with a guy named Ben.

  Ben seemed like a nice guy. He opened Streak’s kennel. “I’ll bring the dog to one of our acquaintance areas so you can get to know her.”

  “We can do that?”

  “Sure you can.”

  Ben put a leash on Streak and took her out to a fenced area big enough for all of us. “Find me when you’re done and I’ll take her back.”

  Frankie Diamond flicked him a cool shaka, not flashy, not like a tourist. “Thanks, brah.”

  “No problem. You kids have fun.”

  Streak was as excited as a mongoose in a garbage dump. I bet she’d been cooped up for weeks. Every time someone tried to catch her, she dodged and ran faster.

  Frankie shook his head. “Hoo, this mutt is a rocket.”

  “That’s why I call her Streak.”

  “So, Coconut. Tell me the truth. This ain’t really your dog, right? You just want her to be. Is that what’s going on here?”

  I nodded. “My mom won’t even listen.”

  Frankie lunged toward Streak as she came zipping around, and Streak dodged him. “I had a dog once.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “Got sick.”

  “Oh … sorry.”

  “Yeah.”

  We played with Streak for almost an hour before we called Ben.

  “You want to take her home?” Ben asked.

  I picked Streak up and hugged her. She licked my face. “How much does it cost to get a dog here?”

  “Around sixty dollars.”

  “Sixty dollars?”

  Ben pinched his chin in thought. “Well … look at it this way. Sixty dollars is a good deal. If someone gave you a dog for free, you’d still have to take it to a vet for tests and vaccinations. Right? Then you have to get a dog tag and all that. Could cost you closer to five hundred. But this dog comes with all of that already done. So sixty dollars is not a bad deal.”

  I didn’t even have sixty cents. And Mom sure wouldn’t give it to me.

  Ben reached out and ran his hand over Streak’s head. “A policeman found her in the mountains last week.”

  Frankie frowned. “Somebody dumped her?”

  “That’s likely.” Ben shook his head. “How people can do that, I don’t know. They could have found her a home, nice dog like this.”

  We all looked at Streak.

  Ben elbowed me. “Look how she stares at you.”

  “This kid calls her Streak,” Frankie Diamond said.

  Ben chuckled. “Maybe we should change the name on the card.”

  “Write that she’s taken, too,” I added.

  “You want her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bring your parents in. But come soon. I don’t think she’ll be here long. Not this dog.”

  Two days later. Sun going down.

  It was around six o’clock and I was alone in my room. Mom wasn’t home from work yet and Darci had gone to Kalapawai Market with Stella.

  I stared at my essay. Mr. Purdy’s one-page assignment had somehow grown four legs and a beating heart. My imaginary dog had become real. Her name was Streak, and I wanted to rescue her.

  So much I could taste it.

  Outside an engine rumbled.

  I peeked out the window as Ledward pulled up and parked on the grass. He lifted our lawn mower out and rolled it into the garage, then went back to his jeep.

  I went out to him.

  “Hey,” he said. “S’up?”

  “Not much.”

  He tossed me a small bag of charcoal.

  “What’s this for?”

  He flicked his eyebrows. “Steaks.”

  He took a covered bowl off the backseat. Inside, five steaks swam in a rich brown marinade. It smelled so sweet it made my stomach gurgle.

  “All right!”

  Ledward smiled. We went into the house.

  He set the bowl on the counter. “Got that lawn mower fixed. Gas line was clogged.”

  “Oh. Good. I guess.”

  Ledward dipped his head toward the backyard. “You know how for start the hibachi?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Get um good and hot. I make rice.”

  The hibachi was a small black grill that sat on the ground. To cook on it you had to squat like a toad.

  Just as I was about to head out to the patio, Stella and Darci walked in. When Stella saw Ledward she frowned. “Where’s Angela?”

  “Not home yet,” Ledward said, ignoring Stella’s gloomy face. He was lucky he could do that. Her frowns always made me want to be somewhere else.

  Ledward rinsed the rice, poured it into the rice cooker, and added water. “I’m cooking tonight. Teriyaki.”

  Darci’s eyes lit up. “Can I help? Can I, can I?”

  “How’s about you make a salad?”

  I went out and got the charcoal going. If Streak was here, I’d give her some of my steak. Man, would she love that!

  What if some mean family had taken her home? Tied her up with a rope or put a shock collar on her?

  Then I felt guilty, because that wasn’t a very nice thing to think. Mean families don’t rescue dogs. They dump them in the mountains.

  There was a commotion in the kitchen. Mom was home.

  A minute later she came out with a glass of lemonade and dragged a plastic patio chair over. She kissed the top of my head and sa
t. “How’s my little man of the house?”

  “Good.”

  “I’m so glad I’m not cooking tonight. This is so nice of Ledward.” I nodded.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  I looked at her. Poor Mom. She had a long day.

  Ledward brought the steaks out and squatted next to me. “Coals look good. Let’s do it.”

  Ledward let me put the steaks on the grill. They sizzled, and I breathed in the sweet aroma.

  Ledward dragged a chair over and sat next to Mom. She tapped his knee. “Thanks for the surprise dinner.”

  “No problem.”

  They sat in silence.

  I smiled. If Streak was here she’d be sitting next to me with her eyes pinned on those steaks.

  We ate out on the patio. Somebody’s dog barked.

  Ledward grinned. “When I was a boy in Kaneohe, I had this crazy dog. That mutt ate anything—socks, towels, string, toilet paper, whatever.” He sighed. “Best dog I ever had. He went everywhere with me.”

  I looked up from my plate.

  Ledward winked.

  I glanced at Mom, who was cutting a piece of steak.

  Ledward went on. “You know … the way I see it, every boy needs a dog sometime in his life.”

  Mom put her knife and fork down and looked at him. “You boys sure do stick together, don’t you?”

  I glanced at Stella. Her face was blank.

  Ledward chuckled, pretending he hadn’t heard Mom. “Me? I had seven dogs.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “Stella’s allergic to cats, Ledward. And maybe dogs, too. How many times do you boys have to hear it? Besides, if we had a dog, who’d end up caring for it? We all know the answer.”

  I jumped in. “No, Mom. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

  “Like you take care of your room?”

  “Uh …”

  “The steak was good,” Stella said, then took her plate into the kitchen.

  “Thank you,” Ledward said.

  We sat listening to the toads croaking in the swamp grass down by the canal. I stared at my half-eaten steak. My messy room had just killed any chance I’d had of rescuing Streak.

  Later that evening, after Mom and Ledward had come back from a walk on the golf course and I’d picked some stuff up in my room, Ledward dragged me away from the TV.

  “Get the empty teriyaki bowl. Bring it to the jeep.”

  I took it out.

  The toads were so loud now that Ledward almost had to shout. “We got to get smart, boy.”

  “How?”

  The light from the house lit Ledward’s face as he bent close. “I get my best ideas when I’m cooking on a hibachi, and tonight I got a good one.”

  I waited.

  He glanced toward the house and whispered, “We got to take your mama to dog heaven.”

  I laughed. “She won’t go.”

  “You leave that to me, boy. Your part is more important.”

  “What’s my part?”

  “Just be you.” He put his hand on my shoulder and winked. “There’s not a mama alive who can turn a dog away once she sees it in her kid’s arms.”

  “Write your name on a small scrap of paper,” Mr. Purdy said the next day at school. “Then fold it up.”

  “Are we having a raffle, Mr. Purdy?”

  “Is there a prize?”

  “What’s the prize, Mr. Purdy, what is it?”

  Mr. Purdy walked down the aisles with his empty coffee cup. “Drop them in here.”

  “What does the winner get, Mr. Purdy?”

  Mr. Purdy shook the coffee cup. “Remember your revisions? I’m drawing names to see who reads first.”

  “Ack!”

  “Aww, man.”

  “Come on, Mr. Purdy.”

  Mr. Purdy reached into the cup. He smiled. “First up is … Rubin!”

  Rubin groaned. I turned around and grinned.

  Rubin made a big show of getting his paper out of his desk, like getting it out was a huge amount of trouble, and did Mr. Purdy really want to wait around until he found it?

  “Take your time, Rubin,” Mr. Purdy said. “We can wait.”

  Rubin’s paper was all wrinkled up. He smoothed it out and cleared his throat. “Okay.” He cleared his throat again. “I want a skateboard because skateboards are cool and if I had one I could race Maya and beat her because I’m a boy. Mr. Purdy will want me to have a skateboard because he’s a man.”

  Rubin looked up, grinning.

  A small laugh burst out of me like a cough.

  Mr. Purdy stared at Rubin. His eyebrows were pinched like, Did I really hear what I just heard? “That’s your revision, Rubin?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Purdy.”

  “It sounds exactly like your first draft. What did you revise?”

  “Boy.”

  “Boy?”

  “Yeah. In my first draft I said you were a boy. I changed that to man, because if I say man it gives it more power, because you think if a man wants me to have a skateboard, then that means something. See?”

  “Rubin?”

  “Yes, Mr. Purdy … sir?”

  “How many words are in your paragraph?”

  Rubin counted. “Thirty-six.”

  “Before school’s out I want you to rewrite your paragraph. Twenty-five words or less. Got it?”

  Rubin’s pained face vanished. “Only twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And leave my name out of it.”

  “Sure … I mean, yes, sir, Mr. Purdy, sir.”

  Mr. Purdy shook his head and drew another name. “Shayla.”

  Shayla’s revision got her a pat on the shoulder. Willy’s was pretty good. Julio’s got a big star, which Mr. Purdy drew on the whiteboard. Maya did okay, too.

  Mr. Purdy glanced at the clock. “Time for one more.”

  I closed my eyes. Not me, not me, not me, not me.

  “Calvin Coconut.”

  “Uh … me?”

  Mr. Purdy waited.

  I unfolded my essay. I’d totally rewritten it, now that I knew about Streak. “Can it be a revision even if you change everything, Mr. Purdy? I mean, to make it better?”

  That got me a big grin. “Bingo, Mr. Coconut, I believe you’re getting the point.”

  “I am?”

  “Look.” Mr. Purdy went to the whiteboard and wrote Revision. “What’s this word?”

  “Revision.”

  “Correct. Now, what’s this one?” Underneath it Mr. Purdy wrote Re-Vision.

  “Revision … but with a line in it.”

  “A line?”

  “Uh … a hyphen?”

  “A hyphen. Thank you. So. When you wrote your first draft you had a vision of what you wanted to say. Then you thought about how to make it better, right?”

  I nodded.

  “You looked at it in a new way. You rethought your initial vision to make it better. Re-vision. So let’s see how your revision strengthened your first draft.”

  For a second I panicked. Strengthened?

  I started reading: “There’s … uh, there’s this small black and white dog with wild eyes and a short attention span.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Mr. Purdy nodded to go on.

  “She lives at the Humane Society. Someone drove her up to the mountains and dumped her. She’s one year old and she’s the fastest dog I’ve ever seen. I call her Streak. When I met her she was in like a cement jail cell. She came over and licked my fingers and leaned against my hand.

  She was warm. I only know two things for sure. The first is, she needs a real home, because it stinks where she is.”

  The class thought that was hilarious.

  “Go on,” Mr. Purdy said, smiling.

  “The second is, she … she needs a friend. Someone like me.”

  I stared at my paper.

  The room was quiet.

  Even Manly Stanley waited to see who would speak fi
rst.

  “A-plus, Mr. Coconut,” Mr. Purdy said softly. “A-plus.”

  Ledward might get his best ideas crouching over a hibachi, but I get mine lying on my bunk and looking out my window.

  “Yes!” I whispered to no one.

  I rolled over onto my back and smiled up at Spidey, still motionless in his web above my head. I was so excited I felt twitchy. My new idea was to try my A-plus revision out on Mom like before, only this time I would say it. I would make it sound like I was just talking.

  I practiced all afternoon.

  Mom, guess what, I saw this small black and white dog with wild eyes and a short attention span.…

  Ho, yeah! This was going to be great!

  By the time we were all sitting around the dinner table, I was as nervous as a mouse. I wished Ledward was here.

  I waited for just the right moment.

  Mom said, “Any mail today, Stella?”

  “Just some junk mail.”

  “Nothing from your mom?”

  “I think she might have lost her pen.”

  Mom reached over and covered Stella’s hand with her own. “One day you’ll get five letters all at once, just wait.”

  “I doubt that.”

  We ate in silence.

  Do it, I thought.

  I opened and closed my mouth. But all those revised words didn’t want to pour out. I tried to stop my leg from bouncing.

  Mom turned to me. “So, Calvin. How did your day go?”

  “Well … uh …”

  Stella smirked.

  Just do it!

  I leaned back, put my hands behind my head. Make it casual. Make it like you just thought of it.

  Actually, I thought of something else. “My day was good, Mom. And, uh, did you see I cleaned up my room?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and I’m going to keep it clean, too.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows.

  I cleared my throat. “Uh, Mom? Have you ever seen Ledward’s pig?”

  Mom studied me a moment. “Have you?”

  Ooops.

  Stella spilled the beans. “Ledward took him and Darci to his house.”

  “Really.” Mom looked at Stella, waiting for more.

  Stella shrugged. “That’s all I know.”