Rain Reign (11 page)

“Just in case what?”

“Just in case the blond dog with white toes isn't Rain after all. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say. But I'm bouncing up and down in my seat, feeling happy.

Uncle Weldon puts on his directional, and we turn left and rumble along a dirt road. I see a sign that says
HAPPY TAILS—JUST AHEAD
. Soon the road ends in a parking lot by a long low building. Now I see a bigger sign that says
HAPPY TAILS
. Under the words are a painting of a dog and a cat curled up together, their tails entwined.

“Where do we park? Where do we park?” I cry.

“Rose, calm down,” says my uncle. “Here's a parking space. And over there I see a sign that says
OFFICE
. Let's go.”

I run ahead of my uncle, through the parking lot, and along a walk to the
OFFICE
sign. I pull open a door. Inside I see a waiting room with a desk and a lot of hard plastic chairs. Some of the chairs are occupied. Most of them are empty. I don't pay any attention to the people in the chairs. I'm only interested in the man behind the desk.

“Rose, slow down!” my uncle calls after me, but he's laughing.

I step up to the desk, stand on tiptoes, and say to the man, “My name is Rose Howard. I called yesterday about my dog.”

I explain about Rain again, and the man begins to smile. “Yes,” he says. “We were hoping you would come in. Just a moment. Let me get the shelter manager.”

He speaks into a phone on the desk and a few minutes later a door at the back of the room opens and a woman walks through it. She's holding a leash and saying, “Come on. Come on, girl.”

I watch the leash as it follows the woman through the door, watch and watch, until finally I can see what's at the other end.

“Rain!” I cry.

I run to her. Rain seems confused at first. Her eyes dart around the room as she looks at the strange people. But then they settle on Uncle Weldon and me, and she begins to leap and jump and yip and bark.

I slide onto my knees and throw my arms around Rain. She wiggles so hard that her entire body vibrates. Then she puts her front paws on my shoulders and licks my face.

“Rain,” I say again. I look behind me at Uncle Weldon. “It's really her,” I whisper.

I see that my uncle is crying. Then I see that the woman with the leash is crying, and so is the man behind the desk, and so are two of the people sitting in the hard plastic chairs.

Tears are running down my own face, but Rain licks them away, so I don't have to worry about them.

When Rain and I finally settle down and everyone has stopped crying, the shelter manager holds out her hand to Uncle Weldon and says, “My name is Julie Caporale.”

Uncle Weldon and Julie Caporale talk for a while. I don't pay much attention to what they're saying. I sit on the floor where Rain has climbed into my lap and I stroke her ears and paws, and examine her closely. She looks thin, and she has some cuts on her face and some marks on her belly that might be insect bites. But she is still my Rain.

After a long time I hear Mrs. Caporale say to my uncle, “It's clear that this lucky pup has found her owners, but I have to follow procedure before we release her to you. Could you please show me some identification? I need to make sure that the information on your ID matches the information on the microchip. I'm a little confused because the chip says the dog's name is Olivia, not Rain.”

I twist my head around to look at Uncle Weldon.

“I'll be happy to show you my driver's license,” he says, “but I should tell you that I'm Rose's uncle, not her father, and—”

I have to interrupt the conversation.

“What's a microchip?” I ask.

 

33

What a Microchip Is

It turns out that a microchip is a tiny chip, about the size of a grain of rice, that a veterinarian injects into a pet, and that contains information such as who the pet's owners are and how to contact them.

“We scanned Olivia—excuse me, Rain—for a chip when she was brought in,” Mrs. Caporale tells Uncle Weldon and me.

She's been talking for a long time now, explaining microchip technology, and I'm trying hard not to interrupt again, but finally I can't help it. “We didn't have Rain microchipped!” I burst out. “We've never even taken her to the vet.”

“But she does have a microchip,” says Mrs. Caporale.

“Are you sure?” I'm getting a strange feeling in my stomach.

“Of course. We scanned it, and that's how we know her name is Olivia.” Mrs. Caporale is frowning now. She sits in one of the chairs and opens a folder she's been carrying. Then she turns to Uncle Weldon. “So you aren't Jason Henderson? From Gloverstown?”

Uncle Weldon shakes his head.

“We've been trying to contact the Hendersons, but we haven't had any luck,” says Mrs. Caporale. “That's why we were so pleased when you called yesterday, Rose—even though you hung up before we could get your number. Our phones have been misbehaving ever since the storm,” she adds, and smiles at me. “We thought you were one of the Hendersons. We assumed they'd had to move because of Susan. Gloverstown got hit badly and we just get a fast busy signal whenever we call the Hendersons' home number. And they didn't include a cell number on their contact information, so…” She spreads her hands.

I slump onto the floor with Rain again. I put my arms around her and feel her fur against my neck. She's so soft that I think maybe she's been given a bath recently. I rest my cheek next to her face.

“Who are you, Rain?” I whisper.

 

34

What Mrs. Caporale Says

Mrs. Caporale and Uncle Weldon continue their conversation. I sit on the floor and think about Rain and my father.

I remember the night my father brought Rain home. I wonder if my father didn't know about microchips or if he just didn't want to look for Rain's owners.

I think of my father letting Rain outside during a superstorm without her collar.

I realize that my father hasn't helped me one bit in my search for Rain.

I turn around and say to Mrs. Caporale, “My father found Rain in the rain. That's why I named her Rain. Also, it's a homonym.” (Mrs. Caporale looks puzzled.) “Rain was all by herself with no collar,” I continue.

“Did you try to look for her owners?” Mrs. Caporale asks.

I shake my head. “My father said we couldn't look because she didn't have any identification. Also, he said if she had owners they must not have cared very much about her.” I pause and then say in a smaller voice, “But they cared enough to have her microchipped.”

Mrs. Caporale looks at me and says gently, “Pets can get separated from their owners for all kinds of reasons. Getting lost or separated doesn't mean the owners are irresponsible.”

I wonder if Mrs. Caporale is talking about the Hendersons or about my father and me.

I nod. For some reason, I feel like crying again, so I say, “Two, three, five, seven, eleven.” But I say it in my head so that I'm the only one who hears it.

I see Uncle Weldon look from Rain and me to Mrs. Caporale. “What happens now?” he asks. “Do we leave Rain here?”

“No!” I cry. (No, no, know, know.) I jump to my feet.

Rain stands up too, looking nervous. She leans against my legs and nuzzles my hand with her nose (knows).

Mrs. Caporale lets out a breath of air that puffs her hair away from her forehead. “This is the first time I've run into this situation,” she admits. “Let me talk to one of my co-workers.”

She leaves the waiting room. Uncle Weldon and I sit in the chairs. Rain jumps up and settles herself with her head in my lap and her rear in Uncle Weldon's lap.

I say to my uncle, “I'd feel better if Olivia was a homonym name, but it isn't.”

Uncle Weldon gives me a sad smile.

At last Mrs. Caporale returns. She sits next to Uncle Weldon and says, “See if you think this is fair: Considering that we've been trying to reach the Hendersons and haven't had any luck, and considering that Rain has been living with Rose for a year and clearly loves her—”

“And I love Rain,” I say.

“—and you love Rain,” Mrs. Caporale continues, “we've decided that she should go home with you, at least temporarily. It only seems fair, and she'll certainly be happier living with you than living here at the shelter.”

“Thank you!” I cry.

“However,” Mrs. Caporale goes on, “we will continue to search for the Hendersons. We're busier than usual just now, because of the storm, but we will search. And if we reach them, or if they contact us, and they want Rain back, well then…” She spreads her hands again. “Rain is their dog after all. I mean, she was. Originally. So, please fill out this form with your information and we'll keep it on file.” She starts to hand the form to me, then looks at Uncle Weldon.

“I'll fill it out,” he says. “I'll put down my information as well as Rose's and her father's.”

Five minutes later Uncle Weldon and I are walking out of Happy Tails with Rain between us.

 

IV

The Hard Part

 

35

The Thing I Have to Do

When Uncle Weldon and I park on Hud Road by the plank bridge over the stream and climb out of the truck with Rain, my father, who is working in the yard, gets a look on his face that is most likely surprise. His eyes grow big and at first he doesn't say anything.

Uncle Weldon takes my hand and we start across the bridge, Rain ahead of us. She picks her way slowly because she isn't used to balancing on the planks. When she reaches our yard she catches sight of my father, standing among lots of tools and boards. She gives a little wag of her tail.

Finally my father speaks. He says, “Well, I'll be.”

I'm not sure what that means. I say, “We found Rain.”

“Yes. I see that.”

“Do you feel happy?” I ask my father.

He kneels down as Rain trots closer to him. “I'm just surprised, that's all. I can't believe you found her.”

So I was right about feeling surprised.

“I had a plan,” I remind him. “It was a good plan.”

“I guess so,” says my father, who is patting Rain.

“Except,” says Uncle Weldon from behind me, “there's … an issue.”

My father looks up sharply, and then he gets to his feet. “An issue?”

Uncle Weldon explains about the Hendersons and the microchip.

I look closely at my father when Uncle Weldon says “microchip.” My father is frowning.

“Rain had identification after all,” I point out.

Now my father looks sharply at me. “What are you saying?”

I think for a moment. “I said that Rain had identification after all.”

My father shakes his head. “Look, you got your dog back, Rose. Just let it be.”

On the ride home from Happy Tails, Rain sat in my lap. She barely moved, and she kept her face pressed next to my cheek so that I could feel her whiskers and little puffs of air as she breathed. Every now and then she turned and licked my nose.

I look around the yard. My father and I have cleaned it up pretty well. My father is working on the permanent bridge, and as long as we have the temporary one we aren't stranded on our property anymore. Our power and phones are back, and school has started again. Most important of all, Rain is home.

I know I should feel happiness. If Parvani's mother somehow got all her artwork back safe and sound, she would feel happiness. But I don't feel happiness. Instead, I feel that something is wrong.

I thank Uncle Weldon for helping me, and Rain and I go into the house. Rain sniffs at everything on the way—twigs, logs, weeds, the porch steps, the couch on the porch. Then she sniffs her way through the house and into my room where she jumps on the bed and looks at me. I sit next to her and wrap my arms around her neck.

Then, because something still feels wrong, I start to cry. I cry into Rain's fur and she sits there patiently, occasionally turning to lick my cheeks, until I get a Kleenex and blow my nose and make the tears stop.

I know what is wrong. It's what my father said a few minutes ago: “You got your dog back, Rose.”

Your
dog back.
Your
dog back, Rose.

But Rain isn't my dog. Rain is the Hendersons' dog. She belongs to them. Or she used to. And they cared enough about her to have her microchipped. I don't know how she got separated from them, but she did, and they probably want her back. Especially now. Especially if they've lost their home in the storm and are feeling very, very sad.

I know what I have to do.

I don't want to do it, but rules are rules, and I must follow them.

Somewhere a family named Henderson is missing Rain. If they miss her as much as I missed her when she was lost, then they want her badly. And she belongs to them. I don't know when the shelter will start their search for the Hendersons, but I need to start mine now.

I have to find the Hendersons and give Rain back.

Rain lets out a sigh and flops on my bed. I lie down beside her. I wonder if she knows what I'm thinking.

I recall the information on Rain's microchip form. Mrs. Caporale didn't give the information to Uncle Weldon, but I peeked at the form and saw the Hendersons' phone number and address and memorized them. I know where they live, or where they used to live. The information will help in my new search.

I do some mental calculations. The name Henderson comes out to 102, which is clearly not a prime number. Olivia is not a prime number name either.

I don't know if this means anything.

 

36

Mrs. Kushel's Helpful Suggestions

Ever since the storm Mrs. Kushel has started off each morning in class by asking if anyone has anything they'd like to share. For fifteen minutes, we raise our hands and tell our classmates about things that are troubling us, or things that are getting better. The Monday after Uncle Weldon and I bring Rain home, I say to my classmates, “Rain is back. We found her at the Happy Tails Animal Shelter in Elmara, New York.”