“Well …” Charles said, “maybe just a tiny piece.” He looked down at the little tan puppy lying near his feet. Charles did want dessert, but he also really wanted to play with Buddy, who had been waiting so patiently through Thanksgiving dinner.

“Uh-huh,” said Mom. “And a piece of apple pie, too, probably, and some berry crumble.”

“Yup,” said Charles. “I still have my dessert stomach!” That was what the Petersons called it when you were too full for real food but still had
room for dessert. Charles never said no to dessert, no matter how full he was. And Aunt Abigail’s desserts were the best. She was once the pastry chef for a fancy hotel in New York City, so she really knew what she was doing.

Now she and Uncle Stephen lived out in the country. Six months ago, they had given up their busy city lives to move to this old farm at the end of a long country road. Now they had busy
country
lives. Aunt Abigail was working in the old-fashioned farmhouse kitchen baking cakes and pies that she sold at the town’s general store, and Uncle Stephen worked on a computer upstairs doing the same business stuff (Charles wasn’t sure exactly what it was) he had done in the city. “Only with a better view,” Uncle Stephen always said.

The Petersons had visited the farm before, but this was their first Thanksgiving there. Mom and Dad and Lizzie, Charles’s older sister, and the Bean, his younger brother, had all piled into their van (Dad’s red pickup didn’t have enough room
for all of them) along with Buddy, their puppy. They had driven for what felt like a whole day, stopping every hour to let Buddy out for a little play-and-pee time.

The drive was boring — how many hours can you stand to play license-plate bingo? — but Charles thought it was worth it to see his cousins. Or at least it was worth it to see Becky, the one who was the same age as Charles. They were both in second grade. Becky was cool. And really brave. She would climb the highest tree in the yard, swim in the coldest stream, ride her bike down the steepest hill. Becky loved mysteries and playing detective. She loved her new home in the country.

On the other hand, Stephanie, her older sister, was kind of a pain. She was in fifth grade, and she thought she knew everything. (Just like Lizzie, Charles thought. Maybe older sisters were all alike.) And she hated living on the farm. Steph never stopped talking about how boring
the country was and how much she missed high-speed Internet, fun stores, and good Chinese restaurants.

If anything was boring, thought Charles, it was having to hear about how great New York City was. How Macy’s was the biggest department store and the Knicks were the best basketball team, blah, blah, blah.

Lizzie didn’t seem to mind Stephanie. Charles thought that was probably because she and Stephanie were like two bossy, know-it-all peas in a pod. Plus, they both loved horses, and they could go on and on forever about riding and saddles and grooming.

On the drive over, Mom had said to be nice to Stephanie because she was “having a hard time with the move.” And it was true that Steph had been more fun back when the Petersons would visit their cousins in New York. She had even helped them get autographs from some of the Yankees when they all went to a baseball game together.

Still, Charles would rather hang out with Becky. They had been having a blast playing with Buddy. Becky could not get over how lucky Charles was to have his own puppy.

Charles couldn’t get over it, either. Sometimes it was still hard for him to believe that Buddy was theirs for keeps. The Petersons had fostered lots of puppies, giving them a safe home until they found the perfect “forever home” for each one. But no matter how much Lizzie, Charles, and the Bean had begged, they had never been allowed to keep a puppy themselves. Until Buddy came along, that is.

The Petersons had taken care of Buddy and his two sisters when they were all just tiny puppies, and everyone in the family had fallen in love with him. Buddy was the runt of the litter, smaller and more timid than his sisters, and he needed extra care.

Buddy was mostly tan, with chocolate-brown markings and a white heart on his chest. He
was the sweetest, smartest, funniest puppy ever. Charles never got tired of playing with him, holding him, and even just watching while Buddy did regular puppy things like eating his breakfast or chewing on a puppy toy.

As soon as dinner was over, Charles and Becky asked to be excused. “We’ll take Buddy for a walk,” offered Charles. The puppy jumped up as soon as he heard that word. He wagged his tail so hard that his whole body wriggled. “Hold on, hold on!” Charles laughed as Buddy licked his face while he tried to clip on the squirmy pup’s leash. Outside, Buddy pulled Charles this way and that as he ran to sniff all the new, exciting smells. It was already almost dark, and the air was cold and clear.

“Let’s pretend Buddy is a pirate and he’s leading us to where his treasure is buried,” said Becky.

“Because we captured his ship,” Charles added, getting into the game. “And now he has to show
us the hiding place, or we’ll make him walk the plank.”

Buddy made a pretty silly pirate. He kept sniffing every bush and fence post he came across. His leash was getting all tangled as he darted here and there through the yard. “Wait up!” said Charles as Buddy circled back toward the house.

“Look! It’s another pirate ship!” Becky said, pointing to a car that was coming up the long dirt road that led to the farm. Its headlights lit up the house as it drew closer. It pulled right up to where Charles and Becky were standing, near the front door.

The car stopped, and a lady got out. She was holding a bundle in her arms, a bundle that wriggled and moved. It was something wrapped in a blanket. Charles couldn’t figure out what it might be.

The lady started talking —
fast.
“Sorry to drop Flash off in such a hurry, but we’re in a terrible rush,” she said, her words tumbling over one
another. “Murray’s father took sick, so we’re leaving much sooner than we thought. We’ll be driving all night long as it is! Of course he’s had all his shots and everything, as you can tell by his tags — oops! I forgot his collar. Oh, well. Anyway, I’m sure he’ll be a big help to you, and we sure do appreciate that he has a good place to stay and all, and —”

“Dot! Let’s go already!” said a man’s voice from inside the car.

“Okay, okay!” The woman gave the bundle in her arms a big kiss. “We’ll miss you, Flash,” she said. Then she gently put it down on the ground and hopped back into the car. “He’s a little shy! Just give him time and you’ll see how sweet he is,” was the last thing the woman called out as the car turned around in the driveway. A moment later, the car was on its way back down the driveway, leaving Charles and Becky staring at each other — and at the bundle. Buddy strained at his leash, trying to get a sniff of whatever it was.

“What was
that
all about?” Charles asked. “I have no idea,” said Becky. She stepped forward and unfolded the blanket. “Oh!” said Charles.

There, looking up at him, was the cutest black-and-white puppy he had ever seen.

CHAPTER TWO

Flash wasn’t a small, roly-poly puppy like Buddy. He was a sleek, long-legged, pointy-nosed dog. But Charles could tell by the way he sprang to his feet when Becky unwrapped the blanket that he wasn’t a grown-up dog. He was black and white, with a silky coat and a long, feathered tail. His black eyes were shiny and bright. This puppy had obviously been loved and well cared for.

“Oh, my gosh!” said Becky. “He’s so cute!” She reached out a hand to pet him.

Charles saw the puppy’s tail droop down as he crouched, ready to run. “Hold on,” he said to Becky, putting a hand on her arm. “That lady was right. He
is
shy.”

Flash sniffed, and listened, and looked, learning as much as he could about these people. It was important to
know
as much as you could. And always be ready to run.

Becky slowed down. “So, what do we do?” she asked.

“Just inch forward slowly,” Charles said. “So we don’t scare him.” He reached down to pick Buddy up, so his little tan puppy wouldn’t bound forward and scare the black-and-white puppy off.

Hey! Hold on! I was just about to go meet my new friend! Buddy licked Charles’s face. Sometimes when he did that, Charles laughed and put him down. Not this time.

Charles and Becky took one baby step at a time, trying to get closer to the puppy without scaring him away. He crouched down, watching them
intently. His long tail was waving slowly back and forth.

“Buddy!” Charles cried as the squirming puppy in his arms struggled and kicked and pushed himself out of Charles’s grip. Charles grabbed Buddy’s leash. But it was too late. Buddy galloped toward the other puppy. The white-and-black pup dashed back toward the fence near the driveway with his tail between his legs. He stood behind a fence post, eyeing them warily.

“Now what?” Becky asked. “Should we go get the grown-ups? Or Steph and Lizzie?”

“No way,” Charles said. “If Lizzie gets involved, she’ll just get all bossy.”

Becky nodded. “Steph is the same way. And they’re worse when they’re together. They’ll just gang up on us and take over.”

Lizzie thought she knew everything about dogs. But Charles knew a few things, too. “I think we can handle this ourselves.”

“Okay, so what do we do?” Becky was ready for action.

Charles thought for a second. “Let’s try this,” he suggested. “We’ll walk away, toward the barn, like we forgot all about him and have something more interesting to do. That sometimes works with Buddy when we’re out in the yard and he won’t come when I call. If he gets curious enough, he’ll come running after me when I go the other way.”

“Okay,” said Becky, shrugging. “So, we pretend like we don’t care? It’s worth a try.”

She and Charles turned their backs to Flash and started walking toward the barn. Buddy led the way, with his tail up and his chest out.

Buddy wasn’t sure where they were going, or why, but he wanted to be part of it. He’d be in front!

Charles peeked back over his shoulder. “It’s working!” he whispered to Becky. “He’s following us!”

Sure enough, the black-and-white pup was trotting along right behind them with a quizzical look in his alert, shiny eyes.

Good! A job! Just what Flash needed, when he was so unsure about this new place. These people needed to be herded along. He would make sure they stayed together and kept moving.

The dog followed them right into the musty, dark barn. “Great,” Charles said in a low tone. “We’ve got him inside, where he’s safe. I didn’t want him running away. If he went down to the main road, he might get hit by a car.”

“We can get him into an even safer place,” Becky said. “There’s an old horse stall down at the end. Dad said maybe Steph could have a horse someday.” She groped around by the door. “Where’s that light switch — there it is!” She switched on the lights. In their dim glow, Charles saw a rusty red tractor parked near the door.

“I hope Flash will follow us all the way there,” Charles said. “Hold on. I’m going to tie Buddy up so he doesn’t get in the way.” He looped Buddy’s leash around the steering wheel of the tractor. Buddy whined a little.

Hey! Why do I have to be tied up? I want to play with my new friend!

But when Charles told him to “stay,” Buddy sat down and looked hopeful. Charles dug into his pocket and pulled out a few tiny dog treats. “Here you go.” He tossed one to Buddy. “Good boy.” Lizzie’s training routine sure was paying off. They worked with the puppy a little bit every day, and Buddy was already much better behaved than lots of grown-up dogs.

Charles glanced back at the black-and-white puppy. “Maybe Flash likes treats, too,” he said. He kept a few in his hand.

He and Becky walked toward the back of the
barn. Flash followed them closely, his head down and his tail held out straight.

“There’s the stall,” Becky whispered, pointing toward a chin-high wooden door.

“Go on inside,” Charles told his cousin, pulling the swinging door open. He slipped into the stall behind Becky, still holding on to the door. The puppy stuck his head around the corner, peeking inside to see where they had gone. Charles and Becky stopped. Then Flash moved forward slowly, step by careful step.

As soon as the puppy was inside the stall, Charles pulled the door shut, sealing the three of them inside.

When he saw Charles move and heard the sound of the door closing, Flash sprang around and tried to escape. But there was no exit. The puppy looked back at Charles and Becky with wild eyes.

Flash had never been comfortable with strangers. Most people were nice once you got to know them, but you could never be sure. Flash wished his own people would come back and get him out of this place. He didn’t like feeling trapped.

“It’s okay,” Charles said soothingly. “We won’t hurt you. It’s okay.” Slowly, he held out the hand with the dog treats in it.

Flash blinked and he took one step closer.

Charles held his breath. His hand was shaking a little. The woman had said that Flash was a sweetie, but you never knew with a strange dog. It was good to be careful. The puppy took three quick steps forward, gently snatched a treat from Charles’s hand, and stepped back to gulp it down.

“Good boy!” Charles said. He turned to Becky. “So, now he’s safe and sound. The next question is, what is he
doing
here?”

Becky’s eyes were shining. “It’s a mystery!”

BOOK: Flash

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