Waggit Again (5 page)

W
aggit looked out of the doors to see Felicia on the ground, rolling over and over.

“Felicia,” he yelled in panic, but she did not reply. He didn't know what to do next. If he leapt out to help her, Lug would be left by himself in the boxcar, unable to get out, and if he didn't he would be separated from her maybe forever. All day long he had been regretting his agreement to let the pit bull join them but no time more so than now.

The decision to jump or not was nearly made for
him as the train lurched forward and almost pitched him back onto the tracks, but he managed to regain his balance and stay on his paws. The train was beginning to pick up speed, and when he looked out again Felicia was nowhere to be seen.

“This is terrible,” Lug said.

“It is,” agreed Waggit.

“We'll never get to New York now,” continued the pit bull. “I mean, she's the only one who knows the way. Who's going to look after us if she's not here?”

“Actually,” said Waggit irritably, “I was thinking more along the lines of wouldn't it be terrible if she's hurt herself.”

“You're absolutely right,” said Lug. “If she's hurt herself she'll never be able to catch up with us, plus she's got all the food.”

Waggit was beginning to realize that it was useless to talk to Lug about anything that didn't directly affect him, and sympathy for the plight of another simply wasn't something he felt. So he said nothing, sat down, and looked around. The car had obviously been used to transport animals of some kind, and it still smelled of them and their hay.

Lug was adding his own smell of fear, and despite
himself Waggit felt sorry for him. He seemed scared of everything and everyone, and here he was stuck in a train car that he couldn't get out of that was going who knew where with a dog he'd met just the day before. The only reason he had wanted to come with them in the first place was that he was more frightened of going back to the town than he was of the journey.

“It'll be okay,” Waggit assured him, sounding more confident than he felt.

“I dunno,” said Lug. “I hope you're right.”

“How come if you never lived with Uprights you've got a name?” Waggit asked, trying to take the other dog's mind off his present situation by changing the subject.

“The Upright at the bar,” replied Lug, “the one that used to feed me. He started to call me big lug, and it just sort of stuck. How about you? You've got a strange name. How did you get yours?”

“The team gave it to me,” said Waggit. “When I was younger my tail used to wag a lot when I was excited or scared and so that's why they called me Waggit.”

“What's the team?” asked Lug.

“Oh, they're a pack of dogs that I lived with in the park. They saved my life. I'm going back to them when
I get to New York, if they'll have me, if there still is a team, of course.”

“Can I join the team when we get there?” Lug asked. “If we get there.”

“Let's see
when
we get there,” said Waggit, emphasizing the
when
to reassure himself as much as Lug.

The two dogs became silent and morosely looked out the open doors as the countryside sped by. It was beginning to get dark now, and the darker it got the worse their fears became. Objects that they would have hardly noticed during the day flashed past like great, threatening black masses. The two of them edged farther and farther away from the open doors until, without realizing it, they were both in the far corner of the car, huddled together for comfort. Then, as fatigue overcame them and they were rocked by the “clackety-clack” rhythm of the train, they finally fell asleep.

Sometime later they were awoken by the screeching sound of metal on metal as the train slowed down and changed direction. When it had settled into its new course it didn't pick up speed, however, but proceeded at a slow pace, and then gradually came to a stop with much hissing of brakes and clanging of steel. It was
still dark, and the two dogs were scared of what might happen next. An eerie silence surrounded them, and Waggit summoned all his courage and peered out, but he could only see blackness.

“What do we do now?” asked Lug, his voice quavering with fear.

“I don't know,” said Waggit. “I don't know whether we should stay here or jump down and run.”

“Jump?” cried Lug incredulously. “Jump? I can't jump. It's too high. I'd break every bone in my body.”

“Better that than be caught by the Ruzelas and get taken to the Great Unknown,” Waggit assured him. “I know—I've been there and I'd take broken bones and freedom any day.”

“What's a Ruzela?” asked Lug.

“They're people that all wear the same stuff and try to catch you,” said Waggit.

“What's the Great Unknown?” asked Lug.

“It's where they take dogs that have been caught. I was caught once,” said Waggit.

“If you've been there and know what it's like, why is it called the Great Unknown?” inquired Lug.

“Because I'm the only one who ever made it back alive,” replied Waggit.

“So why if—” began Lug.

Waggit cut him short.

“Will you stop asking questions?” he said irritably. “They're not going to help us get out of here. Be quiet while I think.”

Lug fell sulkily silent while Waggit assessed the situation. The train might start again in a few minutes, but as he looked out the open door he thought this was unlikely. They had stopped in an area full of boxcars similar to the one they were in, and many of them looked as if they had been there for some time. Weeds had begun to grow around the tracks and underneath some of the cars. If the two dogs remained there and a railroad worker came along and closed the door, they would be trapped. Waggit decided what they should do.

“Lug,” he said, “come and stand by the door and keep watch. There's something I have to do.”

Without questioning what it was, Lug went to the opening and cautiously peered out. As he did Waggit ran up and, with his shoulders against the other's rear end, pushed him with all his might, and the two of them tumbled out of the car and onto the tracks.

“Ow, ow,” complained Lug. “What did you do that
for? I'm already injured as it is. Didn't you think about that?”

“We had to get out of there or risk being caught inside, and I knew you wouldn't jump by yourself,” he replied. “We're better off out here. I don't think this train's going anywhere. The rest of the journey's going to be on paw.”

Before Lug could complain again they both heard the sound of footsteps walking along the tracks in the distance.

“Quick,” said Waggit, “under here.”

They both dived under the wheels of a boxcar that was surrounded by weeds. It was a good hiding place, except that some seeds from a dandelion got caught on Lug's nose and caused him to let out a thunderous sneeze. The sound of the footsteps stopped and the two dogs froze.

“Waggit. Lug. Is that you? Where are you?”

Waggit peered out excitedly from between the wheels.

“It's Felicia,” he barked with joy, and ran over to where she was standing.

“Oh, it
is
you. I'm so glad to see you both,” she said, stroking their heads, “but we've got to get out
of here. And you've got to be quiet.”

“Felicia, are you all right?” asked Waggit in a low voice.

“I'm fine,” she replied, “a bit bruised but otherwise unharmed.”

“But how did you get here?” Waggit asked.

“Well,” Felicia said, “after I fell I picked myself up, and as luck would have it another car like this was passing. I just managed to scramble on board before it was going too fast.” She looked at Lug. “You, young man, are very heavy. I didn't realize until I picked you up, and it was because of that I lost my balance.”

“It's not my fault,” whined Lug. “It was the bar. They ate very fatty food at the bar.”

“It doesn't matter,” said Felicia. “What does matter is that we're all back together again. Now we've got to get out of here before it gets light.”

Suddenly in the distance Waggit heard the crunch of boots on gravel. Once again they had to dive under the boxcar, only this time Lug's nose was fortunately itch-free. Then they saw the beam of a flashlight, and the crunching sound got closer. They held their breath. The workman carrying the light came up to the car they had been in, and the yellow beam washed
its interior. Then they heard the sound that Waggit had feared, and the reason he had wanted to get out—the rumbling noise of the door being closed and the snap of the bolt as it was pushed into the locked position. The man moved from car to car, and the sound of his boots got softer as he went farther down the long train until it could no longer be heard. After that close call even Lug needed no more persuading that getting out of there was a really good idea.

In the pitch black the three of them stumbled through the rail yard as best they could. They had to climb over several tracks before they could get to flat ground. Even when they accomplished this the going was still difficult because the night was so dark. A tall chain-link fence ran alongside the outermost tracks, and garbage had collected between it and the rails. Waggit found himself stumbling over empty beer bottles, soda cans, bits of old clothing, and paper bags that still retained the tantalizing smell of hamburgers. At one point Lug got caught up in some electrical cable, which Felicia had to disentangle. It was not pleasant, but at least they were leaving the man with the flashlight behind. Then, as dawn broke, it became much easier, not only because they could see better,
but also because they were now farther away from the railroad tracks.

The fence suddenly ended for no apparent reason, and they were able to head away from the tracks. After crossing some fields they came to a narrow road. Felicia clipped Waggit's leash to his collar and tied a length of baling twine that she had found on the train around Lug's neck. It was still early and the road they were on wasn't one that was ever busy, so the three of them walked along unconcerned with the possibility of passing traffic. It was good to be in open country again, and they all were in a lighthearted mood. Lug even forgot to complain about his injuries anymore, and Felicia whistled in a tuneless but contented way. They had been walking for about an hour when she suddenly stopped on the brow of a small hill. In front of them in the distance they could see a wide highway snaking down the valley.

“I think I know this area,” she said. “If I'm not mistaken there's a diner near here called Truckers. If we could find it that would be a really good thing, because there may be some friends there who could help us.”

She looked around, peering hard, trying to see where it was.

“I'm pretty certain it's around here somewhere, but where exactly?”

The two dogs looked at each other, put their noses in the air, and slowly turned their heads. Suddenly Waggit closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled.

“Ah, hamburgers,” he said.

Lug's head was pointing in the same direction and he also had the same look of bliss on his face.

“Mmm, French fries,” he said with a sigh.

To one side of the paved road that they were standing on was a farm road, no more than a rough track, really, but it was going in the same direction the smells were coming from. Waggit pulled toward it, stopped, and turned to Felicia and Lug.

“This'll take us there,” he said. “Come on, follow me.”

T
he road was deeply rutted from the tractors that had driven on it when it was muddy. Their wheels had also churned up large rocks and stones that added to the difficulties Felicia and the two dogs encountered as they made their slow progress along it.

“This may be heading in the right direction,” she said. “But that's the only thing it's got going for it. Let's sit for a while. I've got to rest.”

She took off her backpack and sat on it. The dogs
settled down next to her, secretly glad that she needed a break.

“Who are these friends you were talking about, the ones who might be able to help us?” asked Waggit. “And where are they?”

“Not too far from here, I hope,” was her reply.

“Hope?” said Lug, alarmed.

“Well, you see, the problem is they drive big rigs,” she continued, “and you're never quite sure where they will be, but they all stop at Truckers if they're in the area. There's one in particular that I hope will be there.”

“How do you know them?” asked Waggit.

“Oh, from being around,” she replied enigmatically.

“From being around what?” demanded Lug, who liked details.

“Let's just say that we have a lot in common, the drivers and me,” said Felicia. “We're all roamers at heart. They do it for a trucking company, and I do it for myself.”

After Felicia had gathered up her things they set off once again down the rock-strewn track. Waggit's paws were sore and his legs ached, and he wanted to be on his way to the park, not scrambling down some
country road. He realized that he was longing to get back to the team and to familiar surroundings. He worried about whether they would have him back. After all, he had left them to live with a human, and he knew that Tazar considered this to be disloyalty verging on treachery. But they had always been a generous, warm, and forgiving group of animals, and furthermore he had been the team's best hunter. As for Lug, well, Waggit would worry about him when they got there.

The track had been cut through one of the many woods in the area. As they came through the trees they heard the hum of traffic, and then they saw a highway winding through the valley.

“Not too far from here,” said Felicia cheerfully, “and the food is pretty good. You'll both like it anyway. They serve the best meatloaf in the county.”

In the distance Waggit caught sight of a building made out of shiny metal that gleamed silver in the sunlight, with a huge electric sign flashing in front of it. It was surrounded by an enormous parking lot full of the biggest trucks he had ever seen.

“There it is,” said Felicia fondly. “Good old Truckers.”

As they got closer the trucks seemed to get bigger, the building shinier, and the lights flashier. Great snorting vehicles came and went, with the occasional car weaving between them to avoid getting squashed. Men and women bustled in or out of the restaurant; everyone seemed to be in a hurry. To Waggit it was exciting, almost like being in his beloved city. Recent events had taught Lug, however, to be wary of buildings with lights, noise, and many people, and he pulled back on his twine leash.

“It's okay,” said Felicia. “These are my friends. They won't hurt you. I won't let them.”

As she said this she bent down and stroked him the length of his spine. He stopped pulling and trotted along by her side. They were walking up to the diner when a large truck pulled in front of them and stopped. The window slid down and a cheery face poked out.

“Hey there, duchess,” said the man to whom it belonged. “I haven't seen you in a dog's age. And talking of dogs, when did you get that mangy pair? I don't like the look of that one.” He nodded at Lug. “He looks mean. Still, I suppose a woman needs a dog like that for protection.”

“Well,” Felicia replied with a smile, “if he scares a
tough guy like you then I guess he's doing his job.”

“I didn't say I was scared of him,” said the man. “I just said he looks mean. By the way, your friend's parked over there. I think he's taking a nap.”

“Which direction's he heading?” asked Felicia.

“South, I believe,” said the man, “but you'd better ask him. I gotta be going, time's a-wasting. I'll see you around.”

The window of the huge truck whirred as it closed. There was a deafening noise as the gears engaged and the vehicle slowly rumbled off. Felicia waved and then led the two animals across the parking lot. She looked around at all the parked vehicles until she saw one that she walked toward. It had a bright yellow cab, and on the side were painted the words
Yellow Wood Trucking, Lawrence, Massachusetts, Archibald Frost, Owner
.

There was a metal step at the side of the cab, and Felicia used this to raise herself up and bang sharply on the window.

“Frosty, it's Felicia,” she shouted. “Open up.”

From deep inside the cab a voice was heard to say, “Go away! Can't a guy get any sleep around here?”

“You must be getting old, Frosty,” said Felicia. “You never used to sleep at all.”

There was the sound of movement in the cab, and then a face peered drowsily through the window. It was a man's face, and it was surrounded by an enormous white beard that would have made him look like Santa Claus were it not for the fact that the hair covering his top lip and running down the sides of his mouth was jet black. This made him look rather like a skunk. The other prominent feature of his face was the deep creases at the edges of each eye that indicated the man like to laugh a lot.

“Felicia,” he said, “why didn't you say it was you?”

“I did,” answered Felicia, “at the top of my lungs. You're not only getting old, you're getting deaf.”

“Well, thank you, Felicia. It's nice to see you, too.” He smiled.

“I'm only teasing,” said Felicia. “You know I have a warm spot in my heart for you. Come on down. I want to introduce you to two friends.”

When the door opened after a couple of minutes, the rest of Archibald Frost could be seen, and a very large rest it was too. He had an enormous stomach that pulled the front of his denim bib overalls tight. Beneath them he wore a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal two muscular arms and huge hands. Despite his
size he moved delicately as he jumped to the ground.

“These are your friends?” he asked without a trace of surprise. “What are their names?”

“This one's Waggit,” replied Felicia, “and this is Lug.”

“I'm very pleased to meet you boys,” said Frosty, “and how did you hook up with this disreputable woman?”

“Our paths crossed,” Felicia answered for them, “and we decided to travel together.”

“And what's the destination that will mark the end of this journey?” asked Frosty.

“Central Park,” said Felicia.

“And I suppose you want me to take the three of you there?” He smiled, as if he knew this was exactly what she wanted.

“You know what I like about you, Frosty?” said Felicia. “You get straight to the point with no messing around, and you don't ask why a woman and two dogs in the middle of nowhere would want to go to Central Park.”

“Well,” he remarked, “I have enough trouble making my own decisions without questioning yours.”

“The answer, of course, is yes, we would love to
have you drive us there. Is that a possibility?”

“It might be if you bought me lunch,” said Frosty.

“Deal,” said Felicia.

So Frosty locked the door of his truck and the four of them headed toward the silver diner.