Me & Jack (16 page)
Authors: Danette Haworth
“I
hate him,” I said to Ray over the phone. I looked through my bedroom window. Dad was washing the car, but his face was still mad. Even from my distance, I could see the dings in the car doors.
After he'd gone outside, I took the phone into my room and closed the door just as Jack squeezed in. Ray had already heard about Shadow and I told him the rest of the story.
“What are you going to do?” Ray asked.
“I don't know,” I said. “It would be great if I could just run away with Jack.” I turned from the window and focused on Jack, lying comfortably on my bed. Pain stabbed my heart. “It's not fair,” I said.
“Maybe the people would let you visit him a lot,” Ray offered.
I squeezed the cord with my fist. “No, he's
my
dog.”
“I know,” Ray said. We were silent for a moment.
“Alan is real messed up. CeeCee's been crying all day.” His voice cracked a little.
I didn't know what to say. Prater lost his horse and I was losing Jack. But at least Jack was alive, not torn down by a vicious attacker.
“What are you going to do about Jack?”
I took a deep breath. “I'm going to catch that coyote.”
I heard Ray's breath draw up short.
The trash cans stood below my window. Dad had picked up the mess, but shreds of chicken skin stuck to the driveway. “He was here last night, maybe he'll be back.”
“Yeah, but how will you prove it if the camera doesn't work out again?”
I'd already thought that one through. “I just need to get closer. I'll go out on the porch and shoot it.”
The line fell silent. Then Ray said, “What if he smells you? Shadow didn't stand a chance against that coyote. It's not safe. Maybe you should get your dad.”
I laughed meanly at that. “He's the last person who would help me.”
“Try again from the window. I just thinkâ”
“It won't work,” I said. “I've got to shoot it from the porch.” I mangled the cord in my hand. “He won't get away with it tonight.”
D
ad and I ate the ham supper in silence. He never asked about the chicken leftovers, so I didn't offer any explanations.
Jack lay at my feet under the table. I cut a nice thick, juicy chunk of ham and slipped it to him. He chomped it in a couple of bites and licked his chops until every drop was cleaned off. The ham was delicious, a brown-sugar sauce coating it. Jack liked it; so would a coyote. I sawed off another piece and gave it to Jack.
Dad put his fork down. “That's enough ham for the dog,” he said.
“Okay,” I mumbled. I didn't meet his eyes.
“Look, I know you're upset about Jack,” Dad said. “You probably won't believe this, but I am, too.”
I lifted my eyes to Dad.
He leaned both elbows on the table. “This is a sacrifice we have to make so we can live in peace with our neighbors. I promise I'll find a great home for him. I know a couple of guys who have farmsâ”
“No! I don't want to hear that.” I yelled. “It's your fault. We always have to move because of you. I'm tired of making friends and then moving away. Now you want to get rid of Jack.”
I scraped my chair back and stood. “All you care about is the stupid air force and your car. I wish you were dead and not Mom.” I slammed the chair into the table and stormed up to my room.
I thought he'd pound up the stairs and bang on my door, but he didn't. The house was silent. I strained to hear Jack's nails clicking on the wood. Nothing. The smell of the ham must have kept him under the table. I felt even more alone without him.
My friend Scott had written back to me yesterday. I picked up the envelope and reread the letter:
Hi, Josh,
A family with six girls moved into your house. They play jump rope in the middle of the kickball field. We're getting transferred, but we don't know where yet. Wouldn't it be great if we moved by you?
You're lucky to have a dog. At least you have someone you can count on.
Your friend,
Scott
I heard a knock at the door. “Joshua?” Dad called from the other side; then he opened the door. Jack trotted in and leaned against me.
“Hey,” Dad said in a gentle voice. “I've got to run to the office for a minute. Want to come?”
I shook my head.
Dad sighed and looked down. “Okay. I'll be back in a little while.” He left without closing my door.
I stayed in my room petting Jack until I heard the car back out of the driveway. I cupped Jack's face in my hands. He looked up at me with trusting eyes. Scott was rightâI could count on Jack. Now it was time for Jack to count on me.
“I'm not going to let him take you away,” I said.
Jack nodded his head out of my hands and licked my palms. I wrapped him in a tight hug, then let him go. I had to reset the trash cans with bait
now
, while Dad was gone. I could not take a chance on Dad catching me out of the house later tonight.
Down in the kitchen, I started to slice up the ham. I felt mad and sad at the same time, and cutting the ham was hard. I put the knife down and tore it apart with my bare hands.
“There you go,” I said, throwing a slab to Jack as I backed out of the door with the roasting pan. Jack leaped on his treat and I stole outside.
I could still smell some of the chicken from last night, but I wanted to make sure the bait was strong enough to bring that coyote back. The smell had to be overpowering, irresistible, leaving him no choice but to follow his nose. I smeared the meat all over the cans like I did before, and I let the juice from the pan slurp down the insides of both trash cans. Then I balanced the lids on the tops. Pulling the trash cans out a little bit, I set them in the perfect position to be caught from the window and the porch.
Jack licked my fingers when I went in. My heart turned with sorrow from his easy joy, but I was glad he was happy. He deserved to be happy.
After washing my hands, I got the camera and hid it in the cupboard right by the back door. Everything was ready.
J
ack and I settled on the couch. I read a few comic books, lingering on the back pages. Sea monkeys for sale. They had a drawing that showed you the sea monkeys swimming in a fish bowl. They were a regular family, a mom, a dad, a couple of kids. The sea monkeys had faces and you could see they were all happy. It didn't cost too much to get them. Might be kind of cool.
Suddenly I heard the clatter of the trash can lids. Jack barked and jumped off the couch. Still pretty early; must be raccoons. I got up and looked out the window.
Coyote.
My heart hammered wildly. My feet froze in place and my mind went blank. A sharp bark from Jack brought me into focus.
I ran to the kitchen, stumbling over Jack, who ran beside me.
“Stay here,” I commanded. I threw open the cupboard and snatched the camera from the shelf, opening the back door at the same time. I started through the door but the strap caught on the doorknob.
“Oh, no,” I said, trying to jerk the strap free.
In that moment, Jack squeezed out behind me and bounded down the porch steps.
“Jack!” I yelled. I saw the coyote tear up through the woods with Jack not far behind him.
I dropped the camera and charged out the door after them.
“Jack!” Images of Shadow flashed through my mind, mangled flesh and bone. Mutilated cats and chickens.
The sound of thrashing branches and my pounding footsteps filled my ears. I spotted Jack ahead and flew even faster through the woods. Thin branches whipped my cheeks, but I felt no pain. I focused on Jack's trail, yet I was aware of the entire woods. My thoughts reduced to action: jump, duck, faster.
We ran at a sharp right angle and I began to see through the trees to a clearing. I heard a muffled pop.
Prater's yard.
The coyote slipped out of the woods and bolted across the lawn to the upper wood line. Jack flew out of the woods next and raced across the yard.
As I came out of the trees, I saw Prater coming down the tree house steps with his rifle. Prater looked up, saw me, then glanced in the direction I was headed and spotted Jack. A look of pure hatred crossed his face. He pulled the lever down, loaded the gun, and ran after Jack.
“No!” I shrieked.
Prater ran fast up the clearing; he had a good head start on me. Fear, deadly fear, washed over me as I watched him disappear into the upper woods after Jack.
A new course of energy flowed through me. My feet became quicker and my movements more sure. I lit through the clearing and sliced into the woods. I could see Prater a short distance ahead of me. Anger fueled my flight.
“Stop!” I shouted.
He didn't break pace. I raced forward, closing the gap between us, so close I could hear his heavy breathing. I reached out and snatched the hem of his shirt. He jerked away and kept running. I fell forward but regained my footing and charged him like a bull after a red flag. He went down with me on top of him. I grabbed the gun and hurled it away with all my might.
Prater scrambled and threw me off, grunting. Then he jumped on me, crushing my ribs with his knee. All the wind got knocked out of me. I looked into his eyes. They were full of hate. Everything he'd done to me this summer flashed by in an instant. I summoned up all that was in me and, roaring, I slammed my fist into his gut.
He groaned and fell to the side, clutching his stomach.
I had no time to waste on him. I tore up the mountain following the direction I'd last seen Jack.
“Hey!” Prater's angry voice called up to me. I glanced back. He'd grabbed the gun and was trying to catch up.
I set my face forward. I was not afraid. This mountain was mine and Jack's territory.
I reached the top of a small hill and stopped. My chest heaved and my lungs were on fire. My heart beat fast but strong, and I held my breath for a second. Then I heard a kind of huffing sound, like Jack and I had heard before. I followed the sound up the tree line and crept around a dense thicket.
There, in front of a huge overturned tree, stood the coyote. Jack was not ten feet from it.
We stood in a deadly triangle.
The coyote looked like a wiry German shepherd, gray with black mixed in. He lowered his stance and held his bushy tail straight out from his back. His lips curled back to reveal sharp, white teeth. His yellow eyes shifted from Jack to me.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My chest hollowed out with fear. My legs locked and I couldn't move my arms.
I looked at Jack. He stood erect, with his skinny tail curved over his back. Fur bristled along his spine. He knew I was there, but he didn't waverâhis eyes were set on the coyote.
Heavy footsteps plodded around the bushes. “Now you're going to get it,” Prater shouted. “You and your stupid dogâ”
His words hung in the air; his footsteps froze behind me.
The coyote rumbled a wicked growl.
“Shoot.” My voice came out as a croak. “Shoot!”
I turned. Prater stood like a white statue. He was stupefied.
“Gimme the gun!” I grabbed it out of his useless hands and in the same motion cocked it and turned back to see the white underbelly of the coyote lunging at me. I roared and fired the gun, but not before I saw Jack leap toward the coyote.
He was power and grace, his fur golden as he jumped through the last rays of the sunset. His eyes blazed with purpose. His ears flushed with heat. His body arced like an arrow through the air, each flank showing hard muscle. He was beautiful.
I saw a flash of teeth, heard the report of the rifle, and both Jack and the coyote fell to the ground. The coyote did not move again.
My legs gave way and I sank to the ground. I dropped the gun. I was dimly aware of Prater moving around now behind me.
“Jack, Jack,” I murmured, crawling up to him. “It's okay,” I said gently. But when I cradled his head, I saw that it was not okay. That it would never be okay. Jack's throat was ripped open. Blood colored his neck and spilled onto the dirt.
My shoulders shook and tears filled my eyes, spilling over. I pressed my lips together to hold back the hurt, but I could not stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “Jack ⦠Jack ⦔ A painful ache welled up in my throat. With one hand, I swiped at my eyes.
Jack jerked his back legs, trying to get up. I let out a yelp racked with pain and sorrow. Jack's eyes were wet and the rims of his eyes faded. His ears paled. Tears blurred my vision of him.
I looked up at Prater, who was still white. “Help me,” I said hoarsely. “Please!”
P
rater bent down and stared, mouth open. He was still in shock. I pulled off my shirt. Piecing Jack's skin back, I wound the jersey around Jack's neck. Then I carried Jack like a baby in my arms down the mountain, Prater at my side.
“I'm sorry,” he said. He started mumbling; he was breaking down. But then I remembered it was only this morning the coyote killed his horse.
“Just help me,” I said and he nodded in return.
When we broke through the trees to his yard, Prater ran ahead, yelling. His dad stomped out onto the porch, already angry at whatever it was. His face changed after Prater shouted a few words to him. He ran around the side of the house, hauled up in his truck, and lurched to a stop beside me.
“Get in!” he yelled, throwing open the passenger door.
Prater helped me with Jack and plopped on the seat beside me, slamming the door shut. Mr. Prater wheeled the truck around and sped through town, past Puchalski's, past my street, past Ray's house and Tysko's. I would have gone back in time to any of those places just to change tonight.
Streetlights lit up Jack's face in flashes.
Please, God, please
, I prayed.
Mr. Prater jerked the truck to a stop in front of the veterinarian's office.
“Stay here!” he yelled and jumped out. He ran to a small house behind the office and banged on the door. A porch light came on. I heard Mr. Prater's voice, charged with urgency. Both men ran back to the truck.
“Let's get Jack into my office,” Dr. Hart said. His face was concerned and his voice gentle. He tried to take Jack.
I shook my head. “I'll carry him.”
Dr. Hart nodded and ushered us into his office.
After I laid Jack on the table, Dr. Hart took over. He spoke to Mr. Prater and I heard him, I heard his voice, but the words didn't make any sense.
Finally he looked at me and said, “Why don't you boys wait in the other room?”
I shook my head.
Mr. Prater stepped forward. “Boys,” he said, then turned to me. “Let's go call your dad.”
I fastened my eyes on Jack. The white sheet under him was now streaked with blood. Jack's eyes and ears were pale, his lips almost white. I touched his head. “I'll be back,” I said to him, fighting off tears.
In the waiting room, I collapsed on the couch. Mr. Prater called Dad. My arms were smeared with Jack's blood. My chest was stained brownish red. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I heard Prater and his dad murmuring, but I couldn't pull myself up. My body was too heavy and the dark room pressed in on me.
Suddenly a car crunched through the gravel outside and screeched to a stop. I opened my eyes. Dad burst inside, his face wild. He took one look at me and his voice cracked.
“Joshua.” It came out as a sob. He covered the room in a few steps and crushed me to him. “Joshua, Joshua, Joshua.” He rocked me on the couch.
My chest shuddered as I fought back my own tears.
After a while, Dr. Hart came out. I jumped to my feet. His white coat was flecked with blood.
“Well?” Mr. Prater said.
Dr. Hart glanced at him and then turned to me. “Fifteen stitches. He'll probably have a scar.”
“A scar? You mean he's okay?” My eyes watered and my heart leaped. “Jack's okay?” I shouted. Dr. Hart nodded and I heard him talk about rabies and antibiotics and keeping him overnight, but I couldn't concentrateâmy heart and soul were too busy celebrating.
“I want to see him,” I interrupted. Without waiting, I burst through the door to the treatment room.
Jack's neck was shaved and golden stitches laced his skin together. Blankets and hot water bottles surrounded him. He lay still on a rug in the corner.
I knelt on the ground beside him and lightly stroked the top of his head. He opened his eyes and without moving his head, he looked at me. His lips and ears were still pale, but his amber eyes radiated strength and life, and I saw for my own self that God had answered my prayer.
Dad walked in and crouched beside me. “This dog's a hero,” he said, his voice husky. He put his arm around my shoulders. “So are you.”
I didn't want him to think I was crying, so I looked down before any tears slipped out.
He squeezed my shoulders. “If Dr. Hart says it's okay, Jack's coming home with us tomorrow. To stay.”
