Dawn and the Disappearing Dogs Read online

  “What?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

  She whined again and made a move toward the back door.

  “Oh,” I said. “You really need to go out, don’t you?” She started dancing around as soon as she heard the word “out.” I sighed. I wasn’t ready to take the dogs for their walk. Then I remembered that Mrs. Mancusi had told me about a chain-and-stake setup in the front yard. “Okay, girl,” I said. “Come on. We’ll clip you to that chain out there.” Cheryl followed me to the front door, prancing and wagging her tail.

  Before I opened the door, I grabbed her collar. I didn’t want her running away on me. It wasn’t easy to turn the doorknob and pull the door open and also hang on to a hundred and twenty pounds of dog. (That’s how much Cheryl weighs. Mrs. Mancusi told me.) Cheryl pulled me through the door, down the steps, and across the front yard. “No!” I cried, as we passed the stake with the chain attached. “Wait a second, you!” Cheryl let up a little when she heard me say no, and I was able to drag her back to the stake.

  “Whew,” I said, wiping my forehead after I’d clipped the chain to her collar. “You’re a strong one, Cheryl!” She looked at me with her head cocked, and wagged her tail. “Okay,” I said. “You stay here just for a few minutes, and I’ll be out with Pooh Bear and Jacques as soon as I can. We’ll take a nice, long —” I stopped myself before I said that “W” word. Then I patted Cheryl on the head and went back inside.

  “Okay,” I said, picking up my instruction sheet. “Now, where was I?” I ran my finger down the list. “Oh, right. I have to finish cleaning Lucy and Ricky’s cage.” To do that, I had to lift the guinea pigs out of their cage and put them on the kitchen floor. I felt a little nervous about doing that, but it worked out fine. They felt warm and soft, and neither of them seemed to mind being picked up. (I’d been worried that one of them might decide to bite me.)

  After I’d finished with the guinea pigs and hamsters, I went into the den to check on the birds. That room is full of big cages, and each one has some kind of interesting-looking bird in it. Mrs. Mancusi had explained to me about the differences between macaws and cockatoos and the other kinds of parrots, but I couldn’t remember which was which. The only bird that had made a real impression on me was Frank.

  “Hi, Frank,” I said, as I checked his food and water. “What’s new?”

  “New, improved Bounty!” he said. “The quicker-picker-upper.”

  I cracked up. “You are really too much, Frank,” I said.

  “Awk!” he said. “Energize it.”

  After I’d finished with the birds, I headed for the sunporch. I checked on the turtles and the fish and then I fed Barney. Feeding Barney involves picking up insects and earthworms, which the Mancusis keep on hand. I try not to be squeamish about things like that, but to be honest it was pretty icky. It was kind of neat, too, though: I could see Barney’s little snake tongue flick out, and then he’d open his mouth and gulp and the worm would be gone.

  I turned to Petie, who was lying in a pool of light made by a lamp that hung over part of her tank. Mrs. Mancusi had told me that iguanas love to be warm. “Hi, Petie,” I said. “Remember me?” She barely glanced in my direction. I decided I’d been a little nuts to think she’d actually smiled at me. I fed her, and went on to the rabbits. Their names are Fluffer-Nut, Cindy, Toto, and Robert. All of them are white and fluffy and kind of cute, I guess. If you like rabbits. I gave them some of their pellet food, and cleaned out their cages.

  Then I checked my list again. I had taken care of everyone, so I decided to walk the dogs and then come back and double-check to make sure the other animals were set for the day. Mr. and Mrs. Mancusi would be home late that afternoon, and I wanted to make sure they’d be happy with the way I’d taken care of their pets.

  “Pooh Bear! Jacques!” I called. I found the two of them in the living room, snoozing on the rug. They seemed a lot more patient than Cheryl. I found their leashes, and as soon as they saw them, they went wild. “Okay,” I said, stopping in the front hallway to attach their leashes. “Let’s go!” I opened the door, and they pulled me outside and down the stairs, just like Cheryl had. They kept on going, too, just like she had, so at first I was too busy trying to stop them to notice that something was wrong. But as soon as I got them under control, there was no way to avoid noticing.

  There, in the middle of the yard, was the stake with the chain that I’d clipped Cheryl to. But Cheryl was gone. There wasn’t a Great Dane in sight.

  “Oh, my lord!” I said. Pooh Bear and Jacques were still straining on their leashes, but I pulled them back and knelt to look at the chain. The hook wasn’t broken. I stood up again and let Pooh Bear and Jacques pull me out of the yard and down the sidewalk. My head was spinning. How had Cheryl gotten away? Had she worked the hook loose? There’s a dog that belongs to a family we sit for — the Perkinses — who can do that. Chewbacca is his name, and he’s like Houdini. You can’t lock him up.

  Or had someone, for some reason, let her off the chain? Maybe some kid had come by and done it as a prank. I shook my head. There was no point in wondering about it. The main thing was that I had to find Cheryl. Soon.

  I walked Jacques and Pooh Bear around the block, calling for Cheryl every other step. I also peered into every yard I went past, and watched for tracks. But there was no sign of Cheryl.

  “Cheryl!” I called. “Here, Cheryl!” I was beginning to feel desperate. As a member of the BSC, I pride myself on being a very responsible sitter. How could I have lost one of my charges?

  “Dawn!” I heard someone call my name. I whirled around. Jessi had run up behind me. “I saw you go by our house,” she said. “Were you calling for Cheryl?”

  “Jessi! I am so glad to see you. Cheryl’s missing! What am I going to do?”

  “Missing?” repeated Jessi, her eyes round. “Oh, my —” then she stopped. She must have seen how upset I was. “Okay,” she said, pulling herself together. “I’m sure there’s no reason to panic. She can’t have gone too far. I’m just on my way over to the Johanssens’, to sit for Charlotte. She and I can help you look.”

  “Oh, thanks,” I said, relieved.

  “Why don’t you go back to the Mancusis’?” she continued. “Maybe Cheryl has already gone home again. If not, you could use their phone to call Mary Anne. Then she can call some of the others, and we can start a search party.”

  I knew that almost everyone in the BSC had a sitting job that afternoon — after all, that was why I’d gotten the Mancusi job — and I realized that Jessi’s idea was a good one. With all those club members plus the kids they were sitting for, a lot of people would be searching. We’d be sure to find Cheryl in no time.

  * * *

  That’s what I thought, anyway. But I was wrong. We spent the entire morning looking for Cheryl, and then I kept on looking right up until the Mancusis came home. Cheryl was still missing. It was really hard to tell that to Mr. and Mrs. Mancusi. In fact, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But they were nice about it. They said they didn’t blame me, and that they were sure she would show up soon. At least, Mr. Mancusi said that. Mrs. Mancusi didn’t look so sure at all. She looked pretty upset.

  My weekend as a zookeeper had ended on a very bad note.

  Since there are so many Pike kids, whenever Mallory’s parents are going to be away they arrange for two sitters. Usually Mallory is one of them; she’s been baby-sitting for her brothers and sisters for ages. And that Tuesday afternoon, Claudia was the other sitter.

  “Claudia’s here! Claudia’s here!” Claire, the youngest of the Pikes, helped Mallory answer the door when Claud arrived. “Hi, Claudia-silly-billy-goo-goo!” she cried.

  Claudia smiled and exchanged a look with Mallory. We’re all used to Claire’s “silly” mood. She’s five, and five-year-olds can be like that. “Hi, Claire-silly-billy-goo-goo,” she replied.

  Claire giggled. “Come here,” she said to Claudia, pulling at her sleeve. “I want to tell you a secret.”
Claudia bent down to listen. “You look pretty,” Claire whispered into Claud’s ear.

  “Well, thank you,” said Claudia, straightening up. She was still wearing her school clothes: a blue minidress with white polka dots, white leggings, and earrings that looked like big white polka dots. “You look pretty, too.”

  Claire was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and a wedding veil. “I’m a bride,” she announced.

  “I figured,” said Claud. “Now, where’s everybody else?”

  “In the kitchen having after-school snacks. Come on!” Claire grabbed Claud’s hand and pulled her down the hall and into the kitchen. Mallory followed them.

  The kitchen looked like a disaster area. “Byron!” said Mallory. “What are you doing? I told you not to eat any of that cake. Mom’s saving it for tonight.”

  “I didn’t eat any cake,” said Byron. He’s one of the triplets — they’re ten years old — and he knows how to put on an innocent look. “I just scraped away a little of the icing. You didn’t say anything about that!”

  Mallory sighed. “You’re right, I didn’t. So I’m saying it now. No cake, no icing. Got it?” She sounded mad, but she was smiling. She’s used to the triplets’ tricks.

  “Got it,” said Byron. “In that case, I’ll just have peanut butter and jelly, like Adam and Jordan.”

  “I’m not having peanut butter and jelly,” said Jordan. “I’m having peanut butter and ketchup.”

  Claud groaned. The Pike kids — especially the triplets — are always coming up with weird ideas about what might be good to eat. That’s partly because Mr. and Mrs. Pike let them eat whatever they want, figuring there’s no point in wasting time arguing about food with eight kids.

  Nicky, who’s eight, groaned, too. “That’s gross!” he said. “Peanut butter and ketchup. Ew!”

  “What are you eating?” asked Claud.

  “Fig Newtons with Marshmallow Fluff,” said Nicky proudly. “I made up the recipe myself. Want to try one?”

  Claud shook her head. “Not today, thanks,” she said. “I love each of those things separately, but together? I don’t know.”

  “Smart move,” said Mal. “Now, where’s Margo?”

  “She’s looking for her Krushers T-shirt,” said Claire. “Vanessa’s helping her.”

  “Oh, boy,” said Mal. “I’d better go find them. Vanessa’s probably already forgotten what they’re looking for.”

  Margo is seven, and Vanessa is nine. Vanessa can be a little spacey sometimes; she wants to be a poet when she grows up, and she walks around in a dream world. I think she’s busy figuring out things like what rhymes with “rainbow.”

  While Mal was helping Vanessa help Margo, Claud kept an eye on the other Pike kids as they finished up their snacks. Then, when Mal, Vanessa, and Margo came back, everybody pitched in to clean up the kitchen. The Pikes are used to working together, and they’re a good team. Vanessa was assigned to wipe the counters, the triplets unloaded the dishwasher, and Nicky loaded it. Even Margo and Claire helped; Margo put away the ketchup, the peanut butter, and any other food that had been out on the table, and Claire swept the kitchen floor with her toy broom.

  “Perfect!” said Mal, when they were finished. “You guys did a great job.” She turned to Claudia. “It’s almost time for Krushers practice. Do you want to take the little kids over, or do you want to stay here with the triplets?” Margo, like Nicky and Claire, is a Krusher, and Vanessa is a Krusher cheerleader. The triplets aren’t Krushers. They play Little League.

  “Stay with us, Claudia!” said Adam. “We’ll have fun.”

  “No, come with us,” pleaded Margo. “I want you to watch me hit a home run.”

  “It must be nice to be so popular,” said Mallory, raising an eyebrow. She looked around at her brothers and sisters. “I guess none of you want your boring old sister hanging around, huh?” She pretended to be hurt.

  “I want you and Claudia,” said Claire.

  “Thanks,” said Mallory. “Now I feel better. But I don’t think that will work out. The triplets want to stay home and work on their airplane models. So we need to split up.”

  “I’ll stay here,” said Claudia. “I like helping with models.”

  “All right!” said Adam. He, Jordan, and Byron gave each other a three-way high-five.

  Mallory organized the other kids. “Now, does everyone have everything?” she asked, as they trooped out the door. “Baseball caps? Mitts? Sneakers?”

  “Check!” shouted Nicky. “Let’s go!” He raced down the front path with Mal and the others following behind him.

  By the time they reached the school, most of the other Krushers were there. I waved to Mal as she crossed the field. “Hi, Mal,” I said. “I’m sitting for Matt and Haley.” Matt’s the boy I told you about before, and Haley is his sister. She’s a cheerleader, too, just like Vanessa. Charlotte Johanssen is the third Krusher cheerleader, but she hadn’t arrived yet.

  Mal sat down next to me. “Has practice started yet?” she asked.

  “Nope,” I replied. “Kristy said she has a big announcement, but she’s waiting until everybody’s here.”

  Nicky, Margo, and Claire joined the other kids who were clustered around Kristy. Vanessa was standing with Haley, and the two of them were giggling. Mal looked across the field, and then back at me. “That’s weird,” she said. “I saw that car in the parking lot on our way over. I noticed it because there are hardly ever cars in it after school. Now it’s sitting over there on the street.” She pointed, and I followed her gaze.

  I gasped. “That looks like the car Jessi and I saw the other day!” I said. “When we were walking the dogs. I wonder who the driver could be.”

  “Probably just somebody who likes to watch ball,” said Mal.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But it makes me nervous. I think we should bring this up at our meeting tomorrow. I mean, maybe we should go over the ‘stranger’ rules with all the kids we sit for.”

  Mal agreed. “Hey,” she asked. “Speaking of walking the dogs, have the Mancusis found Cheryl yet?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I can’t believe it, but she’s still missing. I’ve spent a lot of time looking for her, and so have the Mancusis. I feel terrible.”

  “She’ll come back,” said Mallory. “Remember that book The Incredible Journey? Those dogs found their way across the country to their masters.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said. “In fact, I could even imagine Cheryl showing up here, today. Look at all these other dogs running around. They love this field.”

  Mallory looked around. “There’s Shannon,” she said, pointing to a big black, brown, and white puppy. Shannon belongs to David Michael, Kristy’s younger brother. She is a Bernese mountain dog, and she’s going to be gigantic when she grows up. She was playing with a smaller, brown dog. “And there’s Bo, the Rodowskys’ dog.” Jackie Rodowsky is a Krusher.

  “The Barretts brought Pow again,” I added. “I hope he doesn’t jump up on me today.”

  “Okay, everybody,” shouted Kristy suddenly. Mallory and I turned to listen to her. “I think we’re all here,” she went on. “Now, before we get started, I have an announcement to make.” She paused for a second. “Jackie, are you listening?”

  Jackie put down the ball he’d been tossing. “Yup,” he said, blushing.

  “Okay,” said Kristy. “Here’s the thing. Bart knows this boy who lives in New Hope and manages a softball team. He wants to play a game against a team from Stoneybrook!”

  “Yay!” yelled Nicky. “Let’s go, Krushers!”

  “Hold on,” said Kristy. “Before you get too excited, I want to explain how we’re going to do this. What Bart and I decided was that we should make a Stoneybrook All-Star team out of players from both the Krushers and the Bashers. Guess what the team will be called?”

  “What?” asked several kids.

  “The Krashers!” said Kristy, smiling. The kids laughed. “But the thing is,” continued Kristy, looking more ser
ious, “that only the older kids are going to be on this team. For a lot of reasons.”

  I knew, and Mallory probably knew, what those reasons were. Mainly, it was because the older kids were better players, and Kristy and Bart wanted to win that game. Kristy wasn’t about to say so, though. She was trying not to hurt anyone’s feelings.

  It didn’t work so well, though. I could see that some of the younger kids felt bad about not being on the team. Suzi Barrett had stuck her lip out about a mile, and Myriah Perkins, who’s also five, looked like she was about to cry. But Claire was the one who really let her feelings be known.

  First, she just frowned. Then she started to clench her fists.

  “Uh-oh,” said Mallory.

  Claire stamped her feet.

  “Here we go,” said Mallory. “We’re in for a real tantrum.” Claire’s softball blowups are famous. She doesn’t have them as often as she used to — she used to get upset about every little thing — but once in awhile she can still throw a doozy of a tantrum.

  Claire began to screech. “No fair!” she yelled. “No fair, no fair! Nofe-air, nofe-air, nofe-air!” The other little kids looked like they were about to join her. That’s when Mallory ran to pick Claire up and carry her off the field.

  She calmed Claire down pretty quickly and sent her back to Kristy, who had started practice in the meantime. “I saw that coming,” Mallory said to me with a grin. “I love my little sister, but those tantrums are something else!”

  Claire threw three more tantrums that afternoon. Mallory handled each one like a pro, but I could see that her patience was wearing thin. By the end of the Krushers practice, Mal looked worn out, but Claire was still going strong. Where do little kids get all that energy?

  “Then she started pulling up handfuls of grass and throwing them in the air. That’s when I decided it was time to go.” We were waiting for our BSC meeting to start, and Mal was telling us about the tantrums Claire had had the day before. “Luckily, practice was just ending, so Kristy wasn’t mad about all the Pikes having to leave.”