The Rightful Heir (7 page)

B
ENJAMIN KNEW HE'D BEEN DISRESPECTFUL
to his mom. He felt guilty but couldn't believe she gave away Pugsly's collar.
Why would an old lady want it? And what kind of dog is wearing it now?
Benjamin
dozed off several times but never looked at the clock to see how long he'd been in his room. Then he heard the front door open and his dad come in.

“Honey, get out here! You're not gonna believe this!” His dad's shouting was muffled by the ceiling above. “Look at what just happened!”

His mom's footsteps ran quickly across the floor to the front room. “Omigosh!”

Ignoring that he was in trouble, Benjamin raced upstairs. “Dad, what's going on?” He did his best to pretend he didn't see his mom, but she didn't seem to notice as she stared out the window at her husband's car windshield in the driveway. “Oh… whoaaaaa!” Benjamin's face contorted in shock. It was like any other windshield, except it had hundreds of cracks running through it, along with blood stains…oh, and the giant back-end of a nasty buzzard sticking out of it.

“How did it happen, Tom?” Carol asked.

Tom's hands slapped his hips, “Well, honey, how it
always
happens…a stupid buzzard flew into my windshield!”

“Dad, where'd you hit it?” Benjamin asked, still stunned.

“About a couple miles up the road. There's a ton of ‘em flying around!”

Benjamin's mom
turned to him. “Aren't you supposed to be in trouble?”

“Oh, no…because I…am talking to you…with respect!” He smiled and hoped he sounded sincere, and not as if he just made it up.

“Apology accepted,
Ben.”
Her half-smile told him she saw past his sneakiness.

“That's some bird, huh?” Tom scratched his head. “I had to roll down my window and drive home the rest of the way with my head sticking out.”

“Are you going to take it to the shop tonight?” Carol asked.

“They closed at four. I may have to wait ‘til I get off work tomorrow.”

Benjamin then remembered the kingdom and his dilemma with the collar. “I'm gonna go outside and play for a while, okay?”

“Alright, but don't be too long, I'll have dinner ready soon.”

He left the house, hopping off the cement front porch to examine his dad's car. Black feathers were scattered all over the inside and its ugly bald head stared right at the driver's seat. Benjamin frowned. “Buzzards…”

T
HE SILVER-BLUE COLLAR GLEAMED
in the sunlight as the little dog panted heavily in the dwindling heat of the late afternoon. Hoping for his master to come to the door, the thirsty dog kept scratching at the screen in hopes the old lady would hear him.

“Hey,
ugly!”
The dog's pink, sleep-filled eyes saw the old lady's cat, a skinny Siamese with big blue eyes, standing on the open window sill above.

“Oh, hey, Elizabeth,” the tired dog replied.

“Is my sweet ol' lady still making you stay outside?” the cat smiled deviously.

“Yeah, I'm really
getting sick of her. Actually, I'm really getting sick. Look at me, my hair is falling out and I can't stop scratching. I itch all over!”

The cat looked at the large patches of dirty, bare skin covering his skinny body. What little short hair he did have was matted with dry mud and black grease. His tail looked like it had been broken once, as it hung halfway between his short legs. “Yeah, you don't look so good. Ugh, and keep those fleas, and
who-knows-what-else
, away from me!”

“I want to leave this place so badly. I don't know why I stay. It's not like she treats me well. She's mean to everyone—well,
almost
everyone.” He frowned at the smirking cat. His dog tag sparkled brilliantly, catching the cat's attention.

“Whoa! What is that?” She looked in amazement.

“Oh, this.” The puny dog made a pathetic attempt at puffing out his chest. “This is my crown. I'm now a king, ya know!”

The Siamese cat laughed uncontrollably. “You are pathetic, if I may say. I'm guessing that's probably the nicest thing you've ever been given. Actually it's probably the
only
thing you've ever been given!” The dog's face saddened. The years hadn't hardened him to the cat's insults. “I will say that you do seem a little different. Like, perhaps you
could
be a king, but the collar makes me think that, not you!” The cat laughed in his face.

“Just wait, Elizabeth. I am a king! And someday I'll rule over this whole land!”

“Ha! I've heard all that I can stand! Well,
Your Majesty
…” She turned and raised her tail high in the air. “Don't freeze to death out there. Hopefully your
servant
will feed you sometime this week.”

“Jonah! You get away from that door! I'm not letting you in!” the old lady yelled from inside the front room.

“Good-bye,
King
Jonah!” the Siamese cat hopped down from
the sill.

“Oh, hello, my little Miss Elizabeth kitty! Yes, look at you!”

The old lady cooing at that stinkin' cat made Jonah want to throw up. He walked toward the shed to rest in the shade, only to look back and see Elizabeth arrogantly smile at him through the screen door. “Cats…”

Jonah walked around the old lady's white car, which people always mistook for a police car on the road. A large, dark shadow swooped across the ground in front of him. Looking up, he saw only the sun and a few long clouds growing together in the sky. He went to the side of the old shed and lay on the mossy ground that cooled his bare belly. His hairless patches felt good in the shade. But he didn't have time to rest.

“Hello, dog.” Jonah jumped up. A big, black buzzard towered over him, red eyes squinting. “You
are
a dog, aren't you?” Jonah nodded. “Unlike any dog I have ever seen, and certainly not a king. You're too dirty to be a king.” Then it spotted the collar with the eye-catching tag. Its neck jerked back in awe and it squawked loudly. Jonah jumped in fear. “Are you a king, little dog?”

Jonah hoped the buzzard wouldn't know if he was lying. “Y-yes, I am.”

“And where is your kingdom, little dog?”

“Um…” Jonah didn't know what to say.

“Jonah, where are you?! You're in big trouble, mister!”

The buzzard gave the dog a quick, evil grin and took off into the sky.

The screen door slammed and footsteps clapped on the porch. Peeking around the corner of the shed, Jonah saw the old lady walk around the back of the house. He made a run for the creaky, wooden porch as fast as he could. Climbing the steps, he hopped into a hole in the porch, the secret spot he'd used to hide from her so many times before.

CHAPTER FIVE

B
ENJAMIN WALKED DOWN THE LONG DRIVEWAY.
On his left a flock of mallard ducks swam near the cottonwood trees in the far
corner of his pond. They quacked loudly and flapped their wings in greeting.

“I can't understand you!” He lifted his arm to show his bare wrist. No collar. He felt so helpless when he couldn't understand the animals, much like when the crows stole the collar in Persly's Woods.
I hope I can still get in the fox den
. He passed the mailbox and smiled at the mouse sitting on the pile of sticks at the open hole of the den.

“Hey, Squeak! Boy, am I glad to see you out here.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I've been waiting for you for a while now. You see, we have a surprise visitor inside that sort of, uh…just
dropped
in on us.”

Benjamin laughed. “Squeak, I don't have my collar so I can't understand you.”

“Oh…” The mouse watched him point to his wrist, bare of the king's collar. Then he followed the boy down the hole. Lightning bugs peppered the tunnel's walls to guide him along, but he'd been through that passage so many times he could almost find his way in his sleep.

“He can understand you?” Felix asked Clementine and Roscoe.

“Yes, that's right. He is unlike any other human you've ever met.” The pig heard steps and turned to see Benjamin and Squeak
round the corner. The fox's eyes lit up.

“Hi, guys!” Benjamin waved.

“Sire, we were hoping to see you today!”

Benjamin only heard oinks of excitement. “Okay, well, guys,” he clapped his hands together, “I don't know how to tell you this, but…I've lost my collar again.” Embarrassed, he bit his bottom lip and squinted.

“Oh, crap!” Roscoe cried in frustration. Clementine sighed loudly.

“Look, I know where it is, though. My mom gave it to some old lady's dog. But, I-I'm gonna get it back, alright? I just don't know how yet.” He could tell his news wasn't what they wanted to hear. “I wanted to let you guys know that I won't be able to talk to that pug tonight.”

“King Benjamin, listen. There are a
thousand
others wanting to join our kingdom—”

“He can't understand you, Roscoe.”

Benjamin laughed nervously at the odd conversation. “Uh, my mom's waiting on me so I gotta go. I'll get that collar back, I promise. Or should I say ‘
baaaah baaaah, oink oink!
'” He patted them on their heads. “Bye, Squeak.” They watched as he disappeared around the corner.

“He's awfully sure of himself, isn't he?” Roscoe frowned.

“I take it
that
was the King Benjamin who can understand you?” Felix snickered and shook his head in disbelief.

The boy walked through the tunnel thinking of ideas.
“Okay, I can go to church and meet this lady and start crying…no, too stupid, and I don't wanna wait 'til Sunday. I could make Mom go to her house and get it, though she's already not happy with me and doesn't want me wearing it any more. I could
—
”
Then it came to him. A sneaky, yet noble, idea. He hopped out of the den and ran up the driveway, smelling dinner as he neared the house. In the
kitchen his mom was busy cooking spaghetti. He approached her and looked as remorseful as he could.