School by Nathaniel Hardman (top reads .TXT) 📕

“No!” Jeremiah answered at the same time as Suzy.

“Jinx,” Jeff muttered.

EIGHT

“What are you doing?” Jeff heard Suzy ask from behind him.

“Just watching.”

Jeff was sitting in front of the sliding-glass door, looking out over the still-dark back lawn. He had spent most of Sunday in the same position, and when he had woken up this morning, he had hurried here before even going to the bathroom.

“He’s been so calm!” Jeff griped after a still minute. “We could totally train him if we took our time and gave him lots of meat.”

Suzy came and stood next to him, squinting. “Where?”

“There. Under the bush.” Jeff pointed to the dark form, the slow movement of its breathing the only sign it was alive.

Suzy watched, silent at his side. Then, “What’s that?” She pointed to something in the grass near the garden.

“I dunno. Maybe he ripped the stuffing out of your soccer ball?”

“Soccer balls don’t have stuffing.”

Jeff narrowed his eyes. There was a little paw poking up from the furry mass. He hauled on Suzy’s elbow and waved toward the kitchen table, “Hey look over there!”

Suzy jerked away from him, mouth dropping open. “Is that a CAT?”

“Maybe,” Jeff said. But he was pretty sure it was a cat – the Rogers’ cat, the one his dad was always cursing for burying its poop in the garden. Now it was a strewn pile of fur and bones on the grass.

“That’s so GROSS! Do you think we should tell the Rogerses? Ugh!” She shivered in disgust. “I’m so glad Animal Control is coming today.”

Jeff was disturbed himself, but he was distracted by his dad limping his way down the stairs. “Dad, can’t we just tell Animal Control to wait a while? Give us at least a few more days so I can bring people to see it?”

“No,” his dad chuckled. “I think your mother would kill me if I let that thing stay any longer than absolutely necessary. Plus, hopefully those ‘Missing Dog’ flyers we put up yesterday will do their magic, and we’ll get Dusty back soon. He won’t want to come back until Two-Head’s gone; I think that’s the reason he ran off in the first place.”

Jeff shared a look with Suzy. Dusty hadn’t run away in years; if Two-Head (That dog needs a real name, Jeff thought) showed up and Dusty disappeared, it was probably because Two Head had hurt him enough that he ran away to die. He knew old dogs did that sometimes.

“Yeah…” Jeff agreed. “I guess. But don’t you think it’s weird that no one is looking for this dog? I mean, if he IS from the circus, like you thought, shouldn’t they be trying to find him just like we’re trying to find Dusty?”

“Maybe someone just wanted to get rid of him,” Suzy suggested. “He’s a terrible dog.”

“He’s NOT terrible!” Jeff asserted. “He was just hungry. You’re just jealous ‘cause he likes me best. Seriously,” he rushed on over Suzy’s guffaw, “He never roars at me like he does at Dad, and when I gave him the meat on Saturday – remember? He didn’t even try to bite me or anything. He just ate it. I bet if I went out there by myself—”

“He wouldn’t roar at you as he ate you?” Suzy suggested.

“I’m just sayin’.” Jeff sat at the table and poured himself a bowl of cereal. “I’m his favorite. And if Animal Control doesn’t show up today, I’m going to start training him.” He snapped his mouth shut and hunched over his cereal, worried he had said too much.

He could feel the weight of his phone in his pocket. He had looked up and saved the number to Animal Control this morning. One phone call between first and second period, and he could be SURE Animal Control wouldn’t show up today.

“You keep calling it a ‘him’.” Suzy said, distracting him. “Do you even know it’s a boy dog?”

Jeff cocked his head. “Huh. I just figured he looks like a boy.” A wondering expression came over his face. “What if one head was a boy, and the other head was a girl?!”

Suzy stared levelly at her brother across the table. He was missing something obvious. “Oh. Right. They’d be the same,” he trailed off, blushing furiously.

Something occurred to him. “I bet he’s thirsty. Dad, is there any way...”

“You CANNOT go out there,” his dad said, with great finality.

“That’s not what I was going to say! I was just thinking we should give him a drink.”

“Something to wash down that cat,” Suzy muttered.

“A cat?” Jeff’s mom asked as she appeared in the kitchen, pulling on a blazer. “Are you kids watching the clock? It’s almost time to go. Honey, were you going to walk them to the bus stop, just in case?”

“You know,” their dad said, “I think it’s stuck in the backyard. I think it must have jumped off the A/C unit to get over the fence, and now it can’t get back over.”

“We should give him a name, too.” Jeff interjected.

“We’re not keeping it, remember?” said Suzy. “They’re coming to take it away today.”

“Right, right. But in case they don’t… I’m tired of calling him ‘the dog’ all the time.”

“You’re calling the dog all the time? Jenny will be jealous.” Suzy grinned wickedly. Jeff gritted his teeth.

“The obvious choice would be Cerberus,” Jeff’s dad mused. “But it’s a bit of a mouthful. Cerby?”

“That’s wimpy.” Jeff said. “It has to be something tough, like Ripper or Killer or Butcher or something like that.”

“Those aren’t names,” said Suzy. “And they sound corny.”

“Two-Head is easy enough.” Dad said. “It’s only two syllables.”

“Ivan?” suggested Mom. “Boris? Vladmir? I always think Russian names sound macho.”

“Oh?” asked their dad, raising an eyebrow.

“Buttercup? Sofia? Rainbow-Bright?” suggested