Not-Just-Anybody Family (11 page)

Pap was so lost in misery that the judge had to rap his gavel on the desk three times to get his attention.

“Mr. Blossom!”

Pap looked up.

“I said I have reached a decision in your case.”

The lawyer helped Pap to his feet.

“Mr. Blossom, I agree with your lawyer that the events of Monday were to a large extent the result of a chain of unfortunate incidents. However, it is my duty to protect the lives of the people of this county. We cannot allow citizens to take the law into their own hands.”

Pap nodded.

“I find you guilty on the charge of disturbing the peace and sentence you to sixty days in county jail.”

Pap nodded. He turned and headed for the door, where the policeman waited to take him back to his cell.

“However—”

The lawyer stopped Pap and turned him around.

“However, because of the circumstances and because you obviously have the wholehearted love of at least one member of your family,” the judge nodded at Vern, “I am suspending your sentence on the condition that I do not see you in this court again.”

Pap nodded.

“Mr. Blossom, you may go now.”

Pap stood blinking in the courtroom. He spoke willingly for the first time since he had entered the courtroom. “Home?” he asked in a bewildered, incredulous way.

“Yes, Mr. Blossom, you are free to go home.”

Mud was a good digger. He never dug around the farm unless it was a gopher or snake hole and Pap indicated it was all right to dig. Pap would do this by pointing with the toe of one worn shoe at the hole. “What’s that, Mud?” Pap would ask. “What’s down there?”

Mud would dive in. He would dig so hard the dirt would fly over his back. He never actually got his teeth on a gopher or snake, but he sure was a good digger.

It took Mud seventeen minutes to dig the hole halfway under the fence. Then he had to dig the rest of the way on his side, working his lean body under the chain, pushing the dirt behind him with his paws.

He squirmed out on the other side and immediately began shaking the clay from his fur. He still felt dirty. There was a patch of grass by the trees and Mud rolled in that. Then he shook himself again.

Satisfied, he started through the woods.

Maggie cried, “Pap!”

She pushed Junior down the aisle and to the front of the courthouse so fast, Junior screamed. He thought his legs were going to ram all the way through the judge’s desk. The judge rapped his gavel.

“It’s us!” she cried.

In bewilderment Pap watched her come. Maggie let go of the wheelchair to throw her arms around him, then around the startled Vern. She had never embraced either one of them before.

Junior’s chair did a wheelie which left him facing the room and the reporters. Cameras clicked.

The judge rapped again for order.

“Perhaps,” the judge said, “the Blossom family could continue this family reunion in my chambers.”

“That’s very kind, your honor,” the lawyer said. As the cameras rolled, he ushered them all toward the chamber door, imagining how fine this would look on the evening news.

At the door Maggie turned and beckoned to Ralphie. “This includes you,” she said.

Ralphie and Junior were on their way back to the hospital in a police car. Neither one of them had put up a fuss. They were glad to go. Both of them wanted to get back in bed. Their legs hurt.

“I’ll come see you,” Maggie had said to Junior. She leaned down and looked into the car so she could see Ralphie too. “I’ll come see both of you.”

She grinned, showing her chipped tooth, and threw her braids behind her shoulders. Then she closed the car door.

“Good-bye,” Junior said. Then, after a pause, he added, “Maggie,” so she would know he was speaking to her instead of the courthouse.

For the first time in his life he was not saying good-bye to a building, even though this afternoon the courthouse had become Junior’s all-time favorite building in the world. He really loved the courthouse. He loved his family more.

“Good-bye, Pap!” He called through the glass. “Good-bye, Vern!”

Vern and Pap didn’t hear him. They were on the steps of the courthouse having their pictures taken. Both Pap and Vern would have been long gone except that the lawyer had an arm around each of them and was bodily holding them in place. Their arms were clamped straight down at their sides.

Reporters were calling out questions as if it were a news conference. Vern’s questions were: “Son, tell us how you decided to break into city jail? How did you feel when you got inside? Were you scared? Would you do it again? Have you got anything to say about security at city jail?”

Pap’s questions were: “Sir, how did you feel when you saw your grandson coming through the vent? What are your plans now that you’re free? What did the boy’s mother say when she heard he was in jail? Do you ever plan to collect any more pop cans?”

Neither Pap nor Vern said a word. The lawyer did the talking. Finally, when he’d had all the attention he was likely to get, he lifted his hands. Pap and Vern started down the steps. The reporters followed.

“Now, you guys give these folks a break. They’ve been through a lot. I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do. First we’re going to ride over and get Mr. Blossom’s truck, and then he and his grandchildren are going home. I am too.”

With a laugh, Henry Ward Bowman guided Pap and Vern to his car. He got in the front. Vern and Pap and Maggie squeezed in the back. Mr. Bowman and Maggie waved for the cameras. Vern and Pap did not.

It was dusk and Mud stopped to lick his foot. It hurt. His tongue found a sharp point that wasn’t supposed to be there. Something had stuck into his foot, between the pads, a thorn of some kind.

Mud tried to take the stub in his teeth. It was too short. He dug into the flesh of his foot so deeply, his nose wrinkled. It hurt a lot, but this time he got the end of the thorn.

Mud pulled it out and spit it on the ground. He looked at it closely before he went back to licking his sore paw.

Mud was so intent on his sore paw the he failed to hear a noise behind him. He kept licking.

A skunk stuck his head out of the hollow tree behind Mud. The skunk couldn’t see Mud because of the ferns. Mud hadn’t seen the skunk for the same reason, and Mud had not smelled the skunk because the skunk was downwind.

The skunk was beginning his evening search for food. It was beetle and bug season, and they were all fat, crisp, and oily. Next month there would be crickets and grasshoppers and, after that, caterpillars. The skunk was hungry.

The skunk came through the ferns, as he always did. His nose was to the ground. His tail was relaxed.

Mud got up. Now he heard the noise behind him. Ferns rustled; parted. He swirled around. The hair rose on his back.

Too late he saw the long pointed nose, the black and white fur. Too late he recognized the smell.

Mud’s tail dropped between his legs at the same moment that the skunk swirled, flared, thumped his hind legs on the ground, and sent a stream of liquid in Mud’s direction.

In an instant Mud was blinded. He ran yelping with pain and fear around the small clearing. He ran into trees and briars, senselessly trying to run away from the pain and the fear and the blindness, and getting nowhere.

Skirting the yelping, panic-stricken dog, the skunk proceeded on his evening rounds. He found a beetle under the first stone he overturned.

“Drop me off at the emergency entrance,” Ralphie told the policeman as they turned into the hospital.

“Me too,” Junior said. If he could help it, he would never be separated from Ralphie again.

Ralphie turned to him. “We can pick up another wheelchair for me and a couple of interns and get pushed up to our room.”

“Good,” Junior said.

“We’ll probably be there in time for supper.”

“Good.” Suddenly Junior had his first unpleasant thought of the afternoon. “Maybe,” he said in a rush, “they really will put medicine in our food now. Maybe because we ran away, they’ll want us to be so groggy we can’t do it again.”

“Nah,” said Ralphie. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“Where’s my dog?”

“What?”

“The dog that was in the truck. Where’s my dog?”

This was the first time Pap had ever worried about Mud. He never had to before because Mud was the most sensible member of the Blossom family. He knew what he was supposed to do, and he did it. It was as simple as that.

Pap had not doubted for a minute that Mud would be with the truck, in the back, curled up on his gunnysack. Either that or he would be nearby getting something to eat or drink.

When he saw the man’s blank look, he let out a piercing whistle that went up and down like a siren. It could be heard for a mile.

“I don’t know anything about any dog,” the man at the garage said, stepping back out of Pap’s reach.

“Who towed Mr. Blossom’s truck in?” the lawyer asked.

“When was this?”

“Monday.”

“Pete was working Monday, I believe. Arnie, ask Pete if he knows anything about this man’s dog.”

The Blossoms waited in silence by the truck. Maggie had gotten so used to things getting better that tears of disappointment filled her eyes. It had seemed like the whole rest of her life was going to be like that—better and better and better. Now, after just one day of getting better, it was getting worse again.

And she had not given one single thought to Mud! She whisked the tears away with the tips of her braids.

Pete came out of the garage wiping oil off his hands. “I never seen any dog,” he said.

“He was a tall dog,” Vern said, “with gold-colored eyes and a red bandanna around his neck. His name was Mud.”

“I never seen a dog of any description.”

Pap touched one finger to his forehead, trying to remember whether Mud had gotten out of the truck at the scene of the accident. If he had, Mud most likely would be there, on Spring Street, waiting. He gave another whistle just in case.

“You could put an ad in the paper,” Mr. Bowman said. “Or, better still, let the newspaper do a story for you. Your family is news now, Mr. Blossom. Call the paper and tell them about your dog—what was his name?”

“Mud.”

“I’ll call them for you and ask them to send a reporter to the farm. Somebody in town will have seen the dog.”

The Blossoms kept standing around. None of them wanted to leave, because it would be like giving up on Mud.

Pete said helpfully, “Your truck’s running good. We tuned her up and took care of the expired inspection sticker. Mr. Bowman took care of the license. You’re ready to roll.”

Still the Blossoms stood there.

Finally Vern said, “Pap, maybe we ought to go. Maybe Mud’s waiting downtown.”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” Pap said.

He led the way to the truck and they got in. “You folks have a nice day,” Pete called after them.

Ralphie’s mother was waiting for Ralphie in the hospital room. The minute she saw him she leapt up from her chair. She had come to the hospital in such a rush that she had on a dress over her bathing suit.

Ralphie said, “Hi, Mom. What are you doing here?”

Ralphie’s mom said, “Don’t you ‘hi’ me, and I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing here.”

Ralphie’s mom said, “Ralphie, the nurse called me on the phone and told me what you did. I cannot believe that you would take this little boy with two broken legs in a cab to the courthouse. Do you realize that you could have done permanent injury to this little boy? The nurse said today was the first time he had even gotten up. One of his legs is broken in two places. If you have done any damage to either one of that little boy’s legs, your dad’s going to wear you out.”

Ralphie’s mom turned to Junior. “Are you all right? I am just so sorry for what my son did. I apologize for him.”

“He didn’t do me any damage,” Junior said. “I enjoyed it.”

Pap hated to return to the scene of the accident. As soon as he turned the corner onto Spring Street, it all came back to him—the abrupt stop, the falling cans, the boys in the Toyota, the police attack.

“Right here’s where it happened,” he told Vern and Maggie in a low, sad voice.

There was a parking slot in front of Woolco, and Pap backed into it.

The three of them got out. Pap let out a piercing whistle. Everybody on the block turned around to find out where the noise had come from, but Mud did not come bounding into view with his ears flying, eyes shining, as they had hoped.

“Maybe he’s around back,” Vern said, “where they throw the garbage. Maybe he’s back there eating out of the Dumpster.”

“Go see.”

Maggie and Pap waited, without speaking, for Vern to come back. Their hope died as they heard him calling “Mud! Mu-ud! Mud!” from the back of the Winn Dixie.

Vern came around the store shaking his head.

“Not there?”

“No.”

“Well,” Pap said. “That’s that.” He sighed so deeply that he seemed to get shorter. “Well, there’s nothing to do but go home.”

“There’s still the reporters,” Maggie said. “I know they’ll be able to find him. I
know
they will.”

“Maybe,” Pap said. He swallowed, almost choking on his next words because he hated reporters so much. “If they do, I’ll be mighty grateful.”

The three of them climbed into the truck. As they drove off, Maggie said, “You look on that side of the road, Vern, and I’ll look on this side. Maybe we’ll see him.”

They watched all the way home, but neither of them did.

A description of Mud appeared in the state paper along with a story about the trial. The headline was
BLOSSOM DOG LOST FOLLOWING OWNER’S ARREST.

BULLETIN:

Yesterday, following the release of Pap Blossom, it was learned that his dog, Mud, had been frightened during his owner’s arrest and had run away. Several people reported seeing a dog fitting Mud’s description running through the downtown area.

Later Mud was spotted at a local Dairy Queen, lying beneath the carryout window. He appeared to be in a coma, one woman said. Several people offered him bits of food, but he would not eat. When the Dairy Queen opened the next day, the dog was gone.

The dog has not been seen since, although there have been various unconfirmed reports of a dog seen on I-85 yesterday afternoon.

Mud is a large dog with short, yellowish fur. He has golden eyes. He has a piece of an old red bandanna tied around his neck.

Anyone seeing a dog answering this description is asked to call the police department. Mr. Henry Ward Bowman, Pap Blossom’s lawyer, has offered a fifty-dollar reward.