The Good, the Bad & the Beagle (7 page)

“Well, it’s a big celebration. You finished your paper and we have a new member of the family,” his wife said.

“Here, Daddy,” Veronica said, passing her father the naan.

“I’m assuming, by whosies, you are referring to the chutney and the dhal? But here is the raita just in case,” Mrs. Morgan said, sending a fleet of smaller dishes around the table.

Cadbury was in front of Veronica’s chair. She worked her toes up and down, massaging his little spine. He was so warm, and his fur was so nice, and his tail wagged and wagged, gently slapping her ankle.

“Veronica, tell us about this party tonight,” her father said.

“Oh! The party,” Veronica remembered. “I don’t know. It’s like the social event of the year, I guess. This girl’s father is an artist and everyone makes a lantern or something in his studio and then they walk around with them. Maybe even in the park.” Veronica slipped Cadbury a piece of naan under the table.

“Well, that’s exciting!” her mother said. “Don’t get him used to table scraps. What time does it start?”

“I don’t know but I don’t want to leave Cadbury. And I have to walk Fitzy.”

“Honey, we can walk Fitzy for you. Isn’t the party more important?”

“No. I’ve waited my whole life for Cadbury. Plus Fitzy has to poop,” Veronica said.

“I like your priorities!” her father said. “A good bowel movement is no small affair. In fact, Marion, I would rather have a good bowel movement, or any kind of bowel movement actually, than go to the Lycanders’ party next week.”

“Daddy!” Veronica said.

Were other people’s fathers as comfortable as hers was talking about such matters? She doubted it. Cadbury or not, her parents were crazy.

“Marvin, I really don’t know what to say,” his wife said.

“Veronica, you should go to that party. Cadbury will be fine,” her father said.

“I can’t leave him.”

“But you won’t be leaving him alone, we’ll be here,” her mother said.

“Mom, he needs me. Honestly, those girls have everyone.”

“I think you’re being silly, but I can see we won’t get anywhere with you, so let’s talk about Fitzy. If you think there is going to be any trouble,” her mother said, “tell us. Cadbury is your responsibility now and Mrs. Ferguson can always get another dog walker. Why don’t you at least call that girl and tell her you can’t come. Before you walk Fitzy.”

“She is the most popular girl in New York City. I’m sure she doesn’t care if I RSVP to her party, or even if I go to her party. There will be so many kids there, she won’t notice if I am there or not.”

“Well, shouldn’t you just thank her for inviting you?”

“Marion, don’t meddle. Veronica is old enough to know what the right thing to do is.”

“Right, Mommy, stop meddling,” Veronica said. Although she did wish the party was another night. It would probably be fun. But how could she leave Cadbury?

*   *   *

While Veronica and Cadbury stood in the vestibule waiting for the elevator she told him all about Fitzy. “Most dogs and children don’t like her. I guess nobody likes her. I mean, I like her, but she can make a pretty bad impression.”

Cadbury listened. His dark brown eyes were so trusting. Veronica gave him a kiss right on his leathery nose.

Her heart was a big wet mess of love.

Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson were out for the evening, so Veronica let herself in.

Fitzy growled ferociously at Cadbury. She dug her nails so deep into the expensive Persian carpet Veronica thought she might make a hole in it. Fitzy was so dramatic.

“Fitzy, this is my dog, Cadbury.” Fitzy made a noise between a whimper and a scream. It was surprisingly powerful and every time she made it, her tiny body lifted several inches off the ground. She looked hilarious, yelping in midair, but poor Cadbury began to howl. Fitzy’s eyes were gleaming and Veronica picked her up, hoping to calm her. Something warm traveled across Veronica’s arm and soaked through her sleeve.

“Oh God! Fitzy! Did you pee on me?” Veronica put her down and went in the kitchen to wash off. She rummaged around under the kitchen sink looking for plastic bags. The Fergusons didn’t own a pooper-scooper. Esme said rich, childless people owned useless things like pooper-scoopers. But when Veronica had asked how Mrs. Ferguson liked to clean up after Fitzy, Mrs. Ferguson said, “Mr. Ferguson and I pay so very much money in
taxes
, dear.” Veronica had not quite followed so finally Mrs. Ferguson said, “We don’t clean up after Fitzy. We just leave it.”

So Veronica brought her own bags. Almost always. She was so excited about Cadbury she’d forgotten.

When she returned to the living room, she saw Fitzy looking
very
guilty. Nearby, on the expensive Persian rug, Fitzy had left three tiny poops as further statement of her dissatisfaction.

Veronica picked up the poop with toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet in the powder room. Fitzy watched as Veronica washed her hands with lilac-scented soap and dried them on the guest towel.

“Fitzy, don’t look at me like that,” Veronica said. “You are not that innocent and I swear if you so much as lay a tooth on Cadbury…”

Cadbury, meanwhile, padded down the hall. Fitzy barked louder the closer he got. Veronica wondered if Fitzy was afraid of Cadbury’s cone. Then, in a flash, both dogs were up on their hind legs wrestling like best friends. Fitzy’s legs were so short she could almost stand underneath Cadbury. It was adorable.

When they’d had enough playing, Veronica took them out. For the first time in Fitzy Ferguson’s life, she didn’t growl or pull or frighten a single child. Fitzy and Cadbury walked side by side like model dogs. When Veronica dropped Fitzy back at the Fergusons’, it was obvious they were sad to say goodbye.

*   *   *

Veronica had the whole weekend with Cadbury before going back to school.

She put his hot spot cream on twice a day and tended to his every need.

He followed her everywhere, looking up at her with his lovely eyes. He was alternately playful or sleepy and cuddly.

The first night, she crawled into bed wondering if he would sleep right next to her as she’d fantasized. She patted a spot on the comforter as her mother often patted the couch when she wanted Veronica to sit next to her and read. But instead of curling up next to her, Cadbury dug his way under the sheet and blanket, disappearing somewhere near her ankles. His cone made a funny shape out of the blanket. He made little yawning sounds and moved up a bit before tucking his head into his knees and pressing his little doughnut body right against her belly.

Veronica stifled a laugh. She didn’t want him to move or be self-conscious. She lay next to him, listening to the sound of his breathing. The warmth of his body next to hers was the nicest thing she’d ever known. No wonder grown-ups slept in twos.

Part 2

Repercussions

Veronica walked to school Monday morning a changed person. A whole and complete person. A dog person. She skipped and sang and couldn’t wait to get on with the day, because in just six hours she would be walking back home to Cadbury. She was dying to tell everyone, to tell anyone, the news about Cadbury. Without realizing, she walked a block past Randolf and had to turn around. Lord knows what other mistakes she would make today because of being distracted by thoughts of her new friend.

As usual, bunches of girls were clustered outside the front door. The subject today was Sarah-Lisa’s party.

“OMG. The sunset. It was the best candle walk ever,” Auden Georges said. Auden Georges had an English accent, which made everything she said sound so much more intelligent than anything anyone else said. Veronica inched in a little closer, hoping to share her news.

“You guys, my mom totally freaked about how late we went to bed and I totally lied to her. I said we went to sleep at one,” Darcy Brown said.

“Are you talking about the party?” Becky Shickler said. “It was so fun!”

The party. The party. The party. That was all anyone wanted to talk about. Veronica looked for Melody. Maybe Melody would care about Cadbury. Where was Melody when you needed her?

The front doors opened and the girls started inside. Athena and Veronica found each other and linked arms.

“Where were you?” Athena asked.

“The most amazing thing happened,” Veronica said. She squeezed Athena’s arm.

“More amazing than a once-in-a-fall equinox?” Sarah-Lisa asked.

Veronica should have known Sarah-Lisa wouldn’t be far from Athena for long.

“I got a dog!” Veronica said. The words tumbled out like cartwheels.

Sarah-Lisa took Athena by the other arm, saying, “I have to show you something in my locker.”

“Right now?” Athena said. “Can’t it wait till we all get upstairs?”

“Not really,” Sarah-Lisa said, and pulled Athena away.

Veronica tried to blend into the crowd.

*   *   *

Ms. Padgett’s lips moved during main lesson, but Veronica had no idea what they were saying.

“So who can tell me what citizenship means?” Ms. Padgett said.

“It means being a useful member of your country?” Melody Jenkins called out.

Veronica doodled Cadbury’s name surrounded by question marks up and down the margin of her loose-leaf. Saying the right answer mattered more to Melody Jenkins than anything in the world, possibly even more than the children’s chorus at the Met. Why Melody Jenkins didn’t end up in the emergency room every week with a dislocated shoulder from extreme hand raising was a mystery.

“Melody, let’s give other students in class a chance. Veronica? Did you do anything this weekend that displayed good citizenship?”

“Um, I cleaned up my new dog’s poop,” Veronica said.

“That’s why you skipped my party?” Sarah-Lisa said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone laughed, even the teacher.

“Excellent,” Ms. Padgett said. “You took care of an animal by giving it exercise and you took care of the city you live in by not littering. You were an excellent citizen indeed! Sarah-Lisa, I am sure your party was spectacular, but let’s stay on topic. Shall we? Anyone else?”

“I think I am on topic,” Sarah-Lisa said. “I have my beginning-of-the-year party as a way of building community,” she continued. “I was being a good citizen.”

Veronica wanted to disappear.

“It’s wonderful how inclusive your parties are, Sarah-Lisa. It must feel disappointing when people don’t accept your kindness and yet, to embarrass people in front of other people is also unkind,” Ms. Padgett said. She smiled at Veronica, who was grateful. “Please bear in mind, though, that everyone moves at their own pace through their own lives,” Ms. Padgett continued. “Any other ways people practiced good citizenship?”

“My father was going to throw out some yogurt containers. But I washed them and packed my lunch in them,” Sylvie said.

Sylvie reminded Veronica of an old Sasha doll she had loved but then ruined by giving her too many haircuts. Sylvie should really deal with her hair. Or join a motorcycle gang and live in a basement somewhere.

“This is great, you guys,” Ms. Padgett said.

Veronica wished she had been the only good citizen in the class. She knew this wasn’t very nice and would not make the world a better place, which was sort of the whole idea behind good citizenship. But she had liked it when Ms. Padgett had singled her out.

“I took the bus to lunch with my grandmother instead of driving. My parents always take the driver,” Darcy said.

“I see a theme in our class. Does anyone else?”

“Global warming?” said Melody Jenkins.

“Yes, Melody,” Ms. Padgett said. Melody’s head swiveled around, grinning. “I think many of you share a concern for the environment, which is absolutely wonderful and it means you are going to love this year’s curriculum because we are focusing on ways people and progress and society affect the environment.”

Funnily enough, Veronica had thought about the very same thing yesterday. She and her mother had been going to buy Cadbury a toy and Fifth Avenue was being attacked by jackhammers. Construction workers were busting up chunks of concrete and Veronica watched spellbound. Under Fifth Avenue was just dirt. Dirt and roots and pebbles and bugs and who knew what else.

“Don’t you remember all the pictures of the olden days in the Museum of the City of New York? Most of Manhattan was once farmland. It wasn’t always a city,” her mother had said. It was so obvious. Cities weren’t literally made of concrete. The concrete was on top of the dirt. Thinking of New York City without sidewalks—being a giant patch of weeds and wildflowers—was amazing to the mind of a city girl like Veronica.

“Let’s look at the closing lines of that poem by Yeats that I asked you to read this weekend,” Ms. Padgett continued. The girls opened their books and Ms. Padgett read aloud:

O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,

Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,

How can we know the dancer from the dance?

“All right, my ladies, any thoughts?”

When Veronica read the poem over the weekend an image of a tree came clearly into her mind. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a chestnut tree in real life so she compared her idea against reality by looking on the Internet. The image of the actual chestnut tree was very similar to the one she’d imagined. When her intuition was correct like this it made her think that her own brain was full of everything she would ever need to know if she only knew how to access it. She wanted to express this to Ms. Padgett, but she didn’t know how without sounding stupid.

“Okay,” Ms. Padgett said, “let’s start with the beginning. What do you see in your mind?”

“A giant tree,” Becky Shickler said.

“Did anyone else see a giant tree?” Ms. Padgett asked. Almost everyone’s hands shot up in the air. Melody was waving hers around like crazy. “Can anyone describe the tree they saw? Veronica, what about you?”

Melody slumped. It must hurt her—physically—not being called on. Veronica couldn’t believe she was being called on again. She preferred not to speak in public and Melody Jenkins
lived
to speak in public. It wasn’t fair.