Immortal Max (22 page)

“I run a dog taxi service,” Mr. P says, laughing. “They hear my car in the driveway and come running to the front door. And my doctor, he says the fresh air is good for me.”

“In another week, I'll be good as new,” Professor Muller says, “so I can meet him here with Siegfried. The doctor says I am a model patient.”

Big surprise. I notice he doesn't look so wooden—softer, somehow. They all look happier, so I don't feel too bad about losing my job anymore.

Bailey joins up with Yee and Anise. I pick up a shovel and veer off, looking for someone else.

Justin is already digging holes for the fence posts. I walk up next to him. He's surprised to see me.

I nod. He nods back. We go to work.

It's my second shower of the day. After the first one, I helped Mom in the garden. Turning over ground for a new perennial she wants to try. Misting annuals in the shed, which was a sauna. And brushing Max, who had turned to Velcro again—collecting grass and sticks like they were priceless objects. By the time I finished with him, I had transformed to a werewolf.

Someone pounds on the bathroom door.

“I'm not done!”

“Well,
get
done!” Beth yells. “Mom got a call from a customer and needs to deliver plants. She's taking Rosie with her, so I'm your ride to the movie. And I can't be late 'cause the vet's doing surgery on a horse and I get to watch.”

Most sisters go nuts about lipstick and clothes. I get a mad scientist.

“Five minutes!”

“Make it three!”

I brush the waves in my hair as smooth as I can. Pull clothes onto a partially wet body. Tie shoelaces. Race downstairs. Beth is at the car, putting air in the tires again.

Great. With my luck, we'll blow a tire on the way.

Since it's only a ten-minute drive to town, I put my faith in rubber trees and climb into the passenger seat.

“Isn't Bailey going?” Beth asks. “She could ride with us.”

“Yeah, but she went into town early. You know, to shop and stuff.”

Beth maneuvers around the town square, crowded with
shoppers and moviegoers. It's the last Saturday before July Fourth, so the stores are busy and parking is tight.

“What's the name of this movie?” She wheels her Subaru around a third time, scanning for a parking space.

“Don't remember.” I spot the cheerleading squad walking up the block. “Hey, look, just stop here and I'll walk.”

“Okay, okay. Geez, what's with you? The feature doesn't start for another thirty minutes.”

“Thought you had to operate on a horse.”

“The clinic's five minutes away, Sammy.”

My hands are so sweaty, I can't grip the door handle. Finally, the door yields. Outside, I hesitate. Look at Beth. Say, “Do, uh, do I have swag?”

“Swag?”

“Yeah, you know. Look good.”

“Aha.”
She gives me a big grin, dimpled. “You're meeting a girl, aren't you?”

“Aww, man.” I slam the car door.

“Wait.”
Beth leans across the seat and talks through the window. “Yeah, you do look big-city, but . . .” She motions to me to get back in the car.

But?
I crawl into the passenger seat. Beth drives around the square again, mouth opening and closing like she's a fish out of water, gulping air.

“What
is
it, Beth?”

“I just never thought this job would fall to me.” She sighs. Takes a deep breath. Says, “All right, here's the CliffsNotes version for dating. Holding hands is cool. A peck on the lips, cool—but not on the first date. Maybe not even the second.”

“A peck?”

“Like Grandma gives us.” She gives the air a smooching kiss. “And the girl needs to let you know when it's okay.”

“She tells you to kiss her?”

“No. You have to read between the lines.”

Great. I'm back to being a mind reader.

“And
no
making out.”

“Wait up. What's that involve . . . exactly?”

“Tongue.”

Tongue? I envision Max's long tongue, drooling slime.

“Do not even think of going beyond tongue.”

“Don't worry, I'm not.”

“And date one girl at a time. You start playing the field, you'll be considered promiscuous.” Hazel eyes drill a hole in me. “You know what that means?”

“I watch TV, Beth.”

“Good. The same works for girls, too. So if you value your reputation, think smart.” She pulls to a stop in front of the theater. Again. “That about covers it. Now, go have a good time.”

Good time? I'm afraid to get out of the car.

“One more question. Do I pay her way?”

“Not on a first date or when you're meeting up in a gang. If you want to buy her popcorn or a Coke on the second or third date, that's cool. And if you ask her someplace special and it's just the two of you, then yeah, you pay the whole works. But I wouldn't be in a hurry to get there.” She lowers her voice and whispers like she's sharing a secret with me. “Dream big, Sammy. Long-term. For me, that's college. You need to think that way, too.”

I groan my reply. My dreams are trash in a landfill.

“Now, go. I'll pick you up at four.” She gives me a grin and a knuckle bump.

I watch Beth drive off. Try to remember the rules. Stumble on words like
peck
and
tongue. Promiscuous
.

“Sammy—”
Yee's wearing a yellow shirt and matching shorts. “Hurry up, I'm holding us a place in line.” She waves me toward the ticket booth, long hair glistening like she's brushed it a hundred times.

Why am I sweating? I don't need to remember the rules. Yee probably had them memorized by the time she registered for kindergarten.

I run.

Rosie does a dress rehearsal on the Sunday before the pageant, which is on July 14. Only a week away. I can't believe how fast summer is going.

Beth thought a practice would help Rosie relax. Yee, Anise, and Bailey came over to help Rosie get ready. They're all upstairs now, chattering like crows in a corn patch. I'm sitting downstairs in the living room. Waiting.

The cheerleading squad comes downstairs to wait with me for Rosie's grand entrance, which had to be delayed. Nerves reached Rosie's bladder and tights had to be removed so she could pee.

More waiting and fidgeting. Bailey brings up Bruno.

“I bet his dad buys him another dog. And this one will cost
five
hundred big ones.”

“He really does spoil Justin.” Anise gives her head a shake. “And his little sister, too. Their stuff takes up half their garage, and their basement, too, I hear.”

“People have different ways of showing their love.” Yee lets out a long sigh. “My parents burn incense to the ancestors when I bring home an A.”

The others laugh, but I hang on to Yee's words for a while.

“Justin told Chief Beaumont he doesn't want another dog,” Anise says. “I saw him ride his bike over to the chief's house one afternoon. That's when he told him.”

“And of course, you were just close enough to overhear them,” Yee says, looking all-knowing.

“I made sure of it.” Anise gives her a smug grin. “Anyway, I guess Justin's dad made him go apologize to the chief for the mess he made. And when the chief told him he would do better with the next dog, Justin said he didn't want one.”

“Why?” Bailey says.

“ 'Cause he really loved Bruno,” I say. I'm remembering the way Justin cried when Bruno died.

“He told you that?” Yee's eyes telegraph she's not convinced.

“Sort of.”

Mom and Beth come in and announce that the practice is about to begin. When Rosie walks down the stairs, I can hardly believe it's my bratty little sister. Shining like gold, her hair is braided around her head like Princess Leia's in
Star Wars
. And the costume Bailey designed looks elegant. Professionally made. When Rosie changes into her Chippewa costume and does her modern dance, everyone stands. Applauding.

“Thanks.” I smile at the cheerleading squad as they leave. “I owe you. Big-time.”

“Don't worry.” Yee grins. “I won't let you forget.”

“You can double that,” Anise says.

“Triple it,” Bailey says.

They leave in a troop, giggling like they know something I don't.

I stop Rosie as she's going upstairs to change. “What about the third costume? You know, the glittery one for when you win the tiara.” In spite of Sid's talk with Rosie, I know she thought she still had a chance to win.

“Well, I talked to Bailey and Yee and Anise and, and . . . I decided that was dumb.” Serious eyes match the serious words. “I may not win, but it's okay 'cause this has been the best summer ever.”

Where did the brat who whines all the time go?

“Win or lose, you're a princess, Rosie. You look . . . 
splendid
.”

On Tuesday night, Mom and Beth go at it again, their angry voices booming up the stairs. I perch on the top step, listening.

“Those tires aren't safe. You need new ones.”

“I know, Mom. Soon as I can, I'll get them.”

“I could scrape up a
little
to help out, but . . .”

“Chill out, Mom. I can take care of it myself. Remember, I have a part-time job lined up.”

“Still, it's a long way to Colorado.”

“These tires will get me there.”

Silence signals a truce. It's safe to go downstairs.

“Oh, morning, Sammy.” Mom turns as I walk into the room. “When you're through with breakfast, I could use some help. Meet me in the shed?”

“Okay.”

I put a frozen waffle in the toaster and take butter and jelly from the refrigerator. “Heard you and Mom talking. You know, 'bout tires.” I glance at Beth out of the corner of my eye. “You
do
need some new ones.”

“Like I don't know that.” Beth snorts. “But it just isn't gonna happen. Not unless you know someone with deep pockets.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I do.”

“Oh, yeah?” A cynical laugh replaces the snorting. “Who?”

“Me.” I spread a waffle with butter and grape jelly.

“
Right
. Help me with something.” Beth looks to the side, pretending she's trying to remember something. “Didn't you hit me up for a loan a few weeks ago?”

“Got a job, remember?”

She stops talking and stares at me. “You offering to loan me what you made?”

“That, and the other ninety I already had saved.” I lick jelly off the spoon. “Got a hundred sixty-five bucks. Well, a hundred fifty. Spent some at the movies and might need a little more before summer's over. Not enough for four new tires, but you could get retreads.”

Hazel-colored eyes glisten. “Hold up.” She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “You've been saving up to buy that puppy from Kendall's Kennels. What happened?”