They Call Me Creature (5 page)

I sighed and slumped into the house. I could see there was no point in trying to talk to him.

Once Dad went upstairs I slipped the key back into its normal place. I glanced out the kitchen window and stared at the shed. I could still hear the mournful cries. Suddenly I knew where I could find some answers.

The animal hospital.

I'll go see Dr. Carpenter at the animal hospital tomorrow, I decided. I know she and Dad aren't talking, but that doesn't mean I can't talk to her.

She'll tell me the truth about Dad. I know she will.

After school the next day I loaded up my backpack, pushed my way through a crowd of kids, and ran out the front door of the school building.

It was about a two-mile walk to the animal hospital, and I wanted to get there before Dr. Carpenter left for the day.

The animal hospital was tucked in a cul-de-sac at the other side of the woods. It was an enormous two-story white stucco building with a steeply sloping red roof.

It had started as a small, square building and had quickly grown. Now it had endless wings, annexes, and research labs, stretching in all directions into the woods.

Inside, it looked more like an old hotel than a hospital. The long halls twisted and turned and seemed to stretch for miles. The doors were made of black oak and creaked when you opened them. The walls were painted dark green. A crystal chandelier hung over the waiting room, which was furnished with old brown leather armchairs and sofas.

Since it didn't look like an animal hospital, it was always surprising to hear the barks and yowls and chirps of the patients.

I had seen the operating rooms a few times when I visited Dad. They were white and bright and sparkling clean. And the research labs were also very modern and medical looking.

As I stepped into the waiting room, a flood of memories swept over me. I remembered so many visits here. And several really upsetting scenes….

I remembered an adorable white-and-brown cocker spaniel puppy that had been hit by a car. And a bright red-and-blue macaw that had an ear of corn stuck in its throat. And two huge yellow dogs who started a snarling, raging fight in the waiting room, clawing each other until the carpet was puddled with blood.

The waiting room was empty now. I glanced at the clock above the reception desk: a little after four-thirty. A young woman sat behind the desk, shuffling through folders.

I asked to see Dr. Carpenter and told her my name. She picked up the phone, pushed a few buttons, and muttered into the receiver.

A few seconds later Dr. Carpenter came sweeping into the room, her white lab coat flying behind her. “Laura! How nice to see you!” she cried and wrapped me in a hug. “How are you? I've missed you so much!”

I hugged her back, taking in her pretty blond hair, her bright green eyes that always seemed to catch the light, and her warm smile. I missed her, too.

I remembered sometimes when I was angry at Mom, I secretly wished that Dr. Carpenter was my mother instead.

I glanced behind her, where a quarter, a dime, and a penny, mounted on black velvet and set in a small silver picture frame, hung on the wall. It made me smile. It reminded me of Dr. C.'s first day at the animal hospital, four years ago.

Georgie had swallowed some change I had dropped on the kitchen floor, and he got really sick. Dr. Carpenter operated, and it was a great success! She framed the change—because it was from her very first patient.

Dr. Carpenter laughed and twirled me around, as if I were still a little girl. “Laura, did you stop by just to say hi?”

I hesitated. “Well … no.” My smile faded. “I really wanted to talk to you. I mean, if you have time.”

I suddenly felt nervous. Could I really ask her to tell me the truth about Dad?

“I seem to have plenty of time,” she replied. She gestured around the empty waiting room. “I've been spending more and more time in the research lab. Kind of frustrating. But it's important.”

She put a hand on my shoulder and guided me through the door, down a long hall with closed doors on both sides. Her office stood at the end of the hall. She gestured for me to take a seat in a low blue armchair in front of her desk.

The desk was glass, clean and uncluttered except for one stack of papers and folders, and a telephone. The walls were covered with framed photos of animals, some of the pets she had cared for.

Dr. Carpenter slid gracefully into the desk chair and swept her blond hair back over her shoulders. Then she leaned across the glass desk and smiled at me.

“This is such a surprise,” she said. “I'm so happy that you came to see me. What did you want to talk about, Laura? Is it boy trouble? Something you can't discuss with your father?”

I laughed. I'm not sure why. The laugh just burst out.

“Do you get to talk to your mother much?” Dr. Carpenter asked. Elbows on the desk, she rested her head in her hands, studying me with those intense green eyes. “How is she doing?”

I shrugged. “She calls once a week. And I visit her a lot,” I said. “But she's so far away. It's not like having a mom who's always there for you….” My voice trailed off.

Dr. Carpenter frowned. “I know what you mean. Well, how is Ellen? Who is she in love with this week?” Dr. Carpenter laughed.

“Last week it was Steve, the tennis player. This week—I'm not sure.” I laughed, too.

“So what are you and your dad up to these days? You two still making up Scrabble words? Still taking long walks in the woods?”

I took a deep breath. “We don't really play Scrabble all that much. We hardly do anything together lately.”

My throat suddenly felt so dry. I coughed. “He's—I don't know—different lately.”

Dr. Carpenter's eyebrows went up. “Different? What do you mean? How is he different?”

“Well … he's very quiet and … angry. He hardly talks to me. He—he spends a lot of time alone, working in the shed.”

“Hmmm. That doesn't sound like your dad at all. What is he working on?” Dr. Carpenter asked.

“I don't know. He won't tell me,” I replied.

Dr. Carpenter reached across the desk and squeezed my hand. “Laura, he's probably just out of sorts. Leaving a job isn't easy. You have to give him time.”

I swallowed hard. “I … wanted to ask you about that. Why … why
did
my dad leave?”

Dr. Carpenter released my hand. She leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“Please tell me,” I pleaded. “Why did my dad leave the animal hospital?”

 

“I had to let him go,” Dr. Carpenter said finally.

I gasped. “You mean—you fired him?”

She sat up straight. Her cheeks reddened. “Well … that's not really the right word. I had to let him go because—”

“Why?” I interrupted. “Why?”

She swallowed. “It's hard to explain, Laura. We … had different goals. We wanted to take our research in different directions.”

I let out a deep breath. Different goals, I thought. That seemed okay.

Suddenly I felt all the tension leave my body. It was good to have someone to talk to. I knew coming here was the right thing to do.

I sat back in my chair. “What kind of work is Dad—” I started to ask another question, but the phone rang.

“Sorry,” she said, making a face at the phone. She picked up the receiver and talked for two or three minutes. “No, you shouldn't bathe him,” she kept saying. “Keep the fur dry. I know, I know. You'll have to put up with the smell. No. You shouldn't bathe him.”

After a few more minutes she hung up the phone and stood up. “I'm sorry, Laura. I'd better get back to work. But come back anytime. Really. I mean it. I've missed you.”

We said our goodbyes and I left.

Outside, heavy clouds had rolled over the sun, and the air had turned cold. Wisps of fog floated low to the ground.

Visiting Dr. Carpenter was a good idea. But I still felt so confused. I wasn't any closer to finding out why Dad was acting so strange.

When I reached home, I headed to the shed. I put my ear to the door. Quiet. Dad wasn't in there. I yanked hard on the lock.

“You won't get it open that way.”

I jumped back in surprise as Joe jogged out from the woods.

He grinned at me. “I think a key would work better.”

I laughed. I was glad to see him. He looked really cute in baggy khaki shorts and a faded red T-shirt.

This time I'm definitely going to invite him to the birthday party, I decided. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I was exploring, you know. I spotted the back of the house from the woods, but I didn't know it was yours.”

He grinned and swept back his long hair with both hands. “You should have come to the pond today. I saw a whole family of deer there.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course. The deer come when I'm not there. They don't want me to get an A.”

We both turned when we heard a growl coming from the trees.

A dog's growl.

Georgie loped to the edge of the clearing. He stopped a few feet from us and raised his head, big, brown eyes studying us suspiciously.

“Hey—where'd you come from, boy?” Joe asked.

“Georgie!” I called. “What were you doing in the woods?”

Georgie's tail began to wag. He lowered his head again and trotted up to us. Dead leaves clung to the fur on his side.

I reached to pull them off. Then I tried to hug him, but he pulled away. “Georgie, what's wrong?” I asked. “Aren't you glad to see me?”

Georgie bumped up to Joe and sniffed his khaki shorts, making loud snuffling sounds.

Joe laughed and jumped back. “Hey, stop! That tickles! You have a crazy dog, Laura!”

I bent down. “Georgie, what's wrong? Come over to me.”

He pressed his wet snout against my arm and sniffed hard. Then he began to sniff the legs of my jeans.

To my surprise, he let out an angry growl.

His back stiffened. He backed up, glaring angrily at Joe and me. Then he pulled back his lips and bared his teeth.

“Georgie—are you crazy? What's wrong, boy?” I cried. I turned to Joe. “He's the most gentle dog in the world. Really.”

Joe took a step back. “Someone forgot to tell him that!”

“Easy, boy,” I said to Georgie, still crouched down. “Easy now. What's wrong, boy?” I asked softly, soothingly.

The dog gnashed his teeth and began to snarl. Frightening, harsh growls from deep in his throat.

He lowered his head, eyes wild now, glaring up at us.

“Easy, boy … ” I whispered. My legs suddenly felt rubbery and weak. “Georgie … it's me…. It's me….”

Baring his teeth, Georgie opened his mouth in a terrifying growl. His fur bristled. His whole body tensed—and he leaped to attack.

 

I didn't back away. I didn't move. I tried not to show how afraid I was.

Georgie stopped inches from me, snapping his jaws.

“Easy … easy,” I whispered. “Good dog. You're a good dog.”

Looking up, I glimpsed Joe, his face tight with fear. He had backed away to the edge of the clearing.

“Laura … ” he called. “Get up. Get away from him.”

The dog snarled furiously. His sides heaved in and out as he breathed, wheezing noisily. White drool ran down the front of his open snout.

“Good dog … good boy … Georgie, it's me…. It's me….”

I couldn't crouch there any longer. My legs were trembling too hard. I couldn't hold myself up.

With a cry, I toppled backward. I landed hard. Sitting on the grass. I was practically eye to eye with the snarling creature.

His jagged teeth were inches from my face. Fat globs of drool ran down his open mouth and splattered on the grass.

“Please—” I cried. I raised both hands as if to shield myself from the attack.

Joe came rushing forward. “Get away! GET! GET!” he shouted. He swung both arms wildly and screamed at the top of his lungs.