Finding Danny Read online

  “Kate talks about herself all the time, Mom. It’s starting to drive me and Lulu crazy.”

  “You’ve been friends since you were five, Bree, honey,” my mom said as we drove off in her SUV.

  “I know, Mom, but we’re just so different now.”

  Danny was with her, as he often was when she picked me up from school, all jumpy and tail-wagging happy when he spotted me standing in the carpool line. He leaned over me from the backseat with his panting doggy breath and I grabbed on to his collar to pull him close for a hug. My fingers closed around its worn leather and I realized it was time for a new collar, since he’d been wearing the same one for at least two years.

  “Danny needs a new collar, Mom,” I said, but she didn’t hear me. She was prattling on about how Kate and I would be just fine and how this was just a phase we were going through.

  As my mom opened the gate at the bottom of our house with a remote and we pulled in to the driveway, I felt my stomach tighten again, and it wasn’t because of Kate or Ashton. Something else was bothering me that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Danny jumped out of the backseat when I held the car door open for him and ran ahead toward the front door. When he got there he sat and looked at me and gave a small woof, which meant, “C’mon, we’ve got things to do inside.”

  “Okay, Danny-O, I’m right behind you!” I shouted as I felt my body tense. As I walked up the stairs toward him, another vocab word for the week came to me and I realized it described perfectly what I felt in that moment.

  Trepidation: a nervous feeling of uncertainty.

  Chapter Three

  It was Tuesday, May 15, at 10:23 A.M. when everything in my life changed.

  At 10:19 A.M. Mr. Drollinger, our science teacher, was explaining to the class what a hypothesis was. This was for the benefit of a science experiment with tomato seeds, but I never got to do the experiment with the rest of the class. As we were about to begin, a lanky-looking girl arrived with a note from the school secretary that said to go to the office because there was an urgent phone call for me. Lulu wanted to come with me, but Mr. Drollinger said that wouldn’t be necessary, so I ran-walked after the messenger girl with skinny, round shoulders as we headed in the direction of the school office. My hands were clammy and cold, and I could feel my heart beating fast all through my body like a hummingbird bashing against a glass house. I felt scared enough to break.

  I imagined the worst. A car accident. Mom. Grabbing her laptop, racing down the stairs, high heels screeching against the just-polished wooden floor, cell phone ringing, SUV alarm blaring as she backed out of the driveway to get to the News Story of the Moment…except this time she didn’t get there.

  Or Dad. A plane crash in some remote part of the world where terrorists were hiding out or a war had just erupted and he’d gotten caught in the cross fire. In my panic I couldn’t remember if he was in India, the Congo, or Iraq. I flashed back to the moment when he left, my dad giving me a quick kiss while the world was still dark outside and whispering his usual “Bye, kiddo, be back in a jiff” against my hair. “A jiff” was his way of saying a week or two, sometimes even longer.

  When I got to the office, the secretary said my mom was on the phone and pointed to a small private area where the Xerox machine and coffee maker were kept.

  I took in a deep, ragged breath and picked up the receiver.

  “Mom? Are you okay? What about Dad?”

  “Fine, we’re fine….” She stumbled over the words fast.

  “Then what’s wrong? I was worried sick.”

  “Bree, listen, do you have Danny?”

  “No. I don’t have him. Dogs aren’t allowed at school, you know that.”

  She paused.

  “Why are you asking?” I felt suddenly queasy.

  “I hoped…I’ve looked everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Bree, he’s missing.”

  “What?” I felt weak and shaky and wanted to sit down but there wasn’t a chair.

  “Bree, honey,” my mom said slowly, “I forgot to close the gate.”

  “You didn’t. You couldn’t have. You never…” I must have raised my voice, because the school secretary put her head into the room.

  “I made a terrible, horrible mistake.” She could barely get the last words out. “He’s gone.”

  The air around me felt like it had been sucked out of the room.

  “I’ve got to find him. Come get me now, Mom. Please!” I gasped like a fish flip-flopping on the ground.

  My ocean was my dog. Without him I couldn’t breathe.

  On the car ride home I sat-lay, half sliding down in the seat because my whole body felt like it had lost its shape and form. In halting sentences my mom told me what had happened.

  She had been rushing to cover a story about contaminated pet food that needed to be pulled off the shelves of local supermarkets before any more animals got sick or died, and she forgot to hit the “close” button on the automatic gates to our home. What seemed so unbelievable about the situation was that by trying to save the lives of other dogs, my mom had failed to keep safe the most important pooch of all—Danny.

  “It’s always your work that comes first, Mom.”

  “It’s not true, honey, you do.”

  “No, Mom, look, you just lost my dog. It’s because of your job that he’s gone.”

  “No, it’s because I was careless and rushing….”

  “You are always rushing.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry won’t bring him back.”

  We were silent for the rest of the ride home.

  “Danny! Danny-O!” I shouted as I ran frantically from room to room looking for him. I willed him to be burrowed in my comforter and my mom had just missed checking there. But when I ripped back the covers there was nothing there but a rawhide bone that he must have “buried” in the sheets last night while I slept. I raced through the backyard praying that I’d find him sleeping in the bushes in the far back corner by the lemon tree, as he sometimes did, but after getting on my hands and knees in the dirt and poking my head through the bramble, I saw nothing but leaves and fallen, rotting lemons.

  “Danny!” I shouted as I ran down the driveway to the front gate and out onto our street. My mom had taken off in her car to drive the neighborhood to see if she could spot him somewhere.

  “I’ll find him. Hopefully he hasn’t gone too far.” Her face looked drawn and paler than usual, and her voice didn’t sound very convincing.

  I just nodded. I was beyond being able to find words to say to her.

  I ran up and down at least twenty streets and back alleys shouting his name and stopping people who walked by. “Please, have you seen a black and white dog; his name’s Danny?” I was out of breath and burning hot and my eyes stung sharper with every shake of their heads. I wanted my dad really badly, to tell me it was going to be all right in his calming, warm voice, but he was a million miles away.

  I ran into stores on Montana Avenue, which was close to our house, interrupting customers and sales-people with my out-of-breath plea. “Please, have you seen my dog?” But they all just looked at me and shook their heads.

  My feet ached and I was parched by the time my mom found me sitting on the side of the road outside our house.

  She rolled down the car window. “No luck?”

  I kept my eyes focused on the ground and didn’t look up. How could I explain to her what she had done to me? How many ways could I say that being so caught up in her job had taken away the one thing that mattered most to me?

  “I’m so sorry, Bree. I don’t know what to say…. Come inside. You look awful.”

  I shook my head. I sat on the sidewalk until the sun went down and the air got cool. My mom came out at some point with some water and a sandwich for me, but I couldn’t eat. I willed the image of Danny, running up our road toward me, his tail wagging, a “hey, a little adventure never hurt anyone, and I’m home now” look on his sweet face, and I scolded him for taking o
ff.

  But as the sky turned dark and the street got so quiet that the only sounds were the occasional car going by and chirping crickets, I knew that he wasn’t coming back tonight.

  Hypothesis. If A = Mom did not have to leave in such a hurry and forget to close the gate, then B would not have happened. B = Danny getting out and running away. A therefore caused B.

  B could not have occurred without A.

  Chapter Four

  My room was painted pale lavender. The decorator had told my mother it was a soothing color, but it didn’t help at all. Everything around me looked gray, the colors drained from the walls. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all my mom right now, so I did something I never usually did, which was lock my bedroom door.

  “Bree, open up! Please.” The newsmom knocked softly. “Listen, I feel terrible about this.” I could hear her blow her nose and sniffle.

  I pulled my knees up close against my chest and let my long dark hair fall over them like a curtain.

  “I’ve made flyers. We’ll put them everywhere. I’m offering a big reward for Danny. We’ll go to the local shelter tomorrow. I’ve called everyone we know to come and help us find him.” I could hear her French manicured nails raking softly against the door. “C’mon, Bree. I’m doing everything I possibly can to get him back.”

  “I just want to be left alone. Okay, Mom?” I croaked softly. My voice was practically gone from shouting Danny’s name over and over again for hours.

  She must have heard me, because after a few seconds I heard her heels click-clicking away.

  In the Third Grade Spring Recital I had been a drone bee, not the queen bee, but still, I had to sing the buzzing song and fly around the stage and sing the Bee Happy Bee-cause song that we’d worked on. Just like every other bee in the bunch, I had expected my mom to be there and she promised she wouldn’t miss it for anything. But on the day of the recital, there was a huge traffic jam downtown because of a broken water pipe and she had to cover the story. So there I was with my arms flap-flapping, trying hard to make the buzzing sound as tears whooshed their way through my black makeup. I didn’t do a good job singing the Bee Happy song, because every other mom was in the school auditorium, smiling and clapping for her bee-utiful daughter. Just not mine.

  “I’ll make it up to you. Promise. Big, big promise!” my mom said later that night.

  Third grade, fourth grade, sixth grade, and now. I couldn’t even count how many times she came late to pick me up from drama club, birthday parties, and friends’ houses. Her SUV screeching to a halt, passenger door flung open, cell phone in her hand, “I’m so sorry, honey” as she tried to kiss me on the cheek. Puffy, hot red splotches on my face as she prattled on about the disaster, the big event, the sighting, the interview, or whatever it was that had kept her.

  Colleen Davies. News reporter first. Mom second.

  While she went on and on, I’d go to a brighter place inside to block her out. A fairy princess dress that I’d worn on Halloween, a slice of velvet-soft cake, a piece of lined paper where “A+ and Excellent Work!” was written on the top of my English essay. But once Danny was in my life, I’d mostly close my eyes and see the wagging tail, lick-loving face, softest fur to wrap my wounds around.

  I text messaged Kate and Lulu to tell them the news.

  Lulu wrote back immediately. Don’t worry, we’ll find him!

  I can’t believe it. You must be totally mad at your mom, Kate replied ten minutes later.

  The truth was I wasn’t mad at my mom. I was devastated.

  Out of habit I wiggled my toes near the bottom of my bed, expecting to feel soft fur. That was Danny’s spot, curled up like a big pretzel at my feet. I remembered reading somewhere that when a person lost an arm or a leg they could still feel it even though it might have been gone for days or even months. I could still feel Danny’s shaggy shape between my raw, blistered toes, like he’d never left.

  I thought about how there should be a product called Brain Bottles, with a TV advertisement that came at you in a loud, booming voice and said something like, “Introducing a state-of-the-art new product called Brain Bottles, where all your not-to-be-forgotten great moments in your life are saved forever. The beauty in Brain Bottle storage is that all you have to do is uncork the bottle and take a long, hard whiff and, whammo, you’re back in that time of bliss again. Only $19.99 for a set of six.”

  As I lay on my bed, the Brain Bottle that I wanted to uncork was a warm afternoon last summer.

  I’m floating in sparkling blue water. I can smell the tangy chlorine in the pool. My dad’s got the camera focused tight on me and Danny splashing around in our backyard pool. I’m laughing, hamming it up for the camera, doing the doggy paddle next to Danny, who’s a big boy of three and a half. We’re treading water, side by side. I can feel his legs kicking hard against mine and cold licks on my shoulder as I put my arms under his belly and guide him out of the water. Then the sound of my bikini-clad mom shrieking when Danny shakes himself off on the burnished bricks and gets her all wet. The sight of my lean, muscled dad leaning over him and rubbing him dry with his towel, his voice deep and warm. “You big silly goof.” I look over at the three of them—Mom, Dad, and Danny—and climb out of the water so I can join them. A sunny, swimming Sunday. Bottled Bliss.

  Our family. Together.

  Chapter Five

  I was walking with Kate and Lulu between classes, and I was having a hard time concentrating on anything at school. With my dad away, me barely talking to my mom, and my fear that I’d never see Danny again, I was in a serious funk.

  Kate zigzagged around me. “You need a shiatsu massage. That’s what my mom does to relieve her stress.”

  “No, thanks,” I said.

  Lulu put her arm around my slumped shoulders. “Think positive, Bree. Danny will come back. I know he will.” Her thick mop of dark hair bobbed up and down as she spoke.

  “If it was my mom and she lost something really valuable of mine I’d never forgive her,” Kate said.

  “Being mad isn’t going to get him back,” Lulu said in her usual practical wisdom kind of way.

  “I just saw the cutest puppies at the pet store on Wilshire. They’re right by my mom’s electrologist. You should get one,” Kate suggested.

  “There was just a story on TV about how you shouldn’t get a puppy from a pet store,” Lulu chimed in. “It said you should go to a shelter or something instead.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Danny’s not an object I can just replace.”

  “Jeez, Bree, it was only a suggestion.” Kate tossed her recently highlighted hair in my direction. “I was only trying to help.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had a pet.”

  “My parents don’t want anything ruining our house,” Kate said.

  The warning bell rang, and as Kate walked off to her next class I actually felt sorry for her for having parents who cared about the wrong things.

  As we got to Miss Jenson’s English class, Lulu turned to me. “Look, I know how you feel. I’ve had dogs all my life.”

  “When my mom gets back from work, we’re going to the Santa Monica shelter to see if he’s there. I hope.”

  Hope was what I needed to get me through the rest of the day.

  Since my mom was still at work, I took the school bus home. Once we reached Santa Monica, I craned my neck out of the school bus window and down every street to see if I could spot Danny. No luck.

  When I got into the house I decided to make a list of possible scenarios about where Danny might be.

  1. Lost, hungry, cold, and scared to let anyone get near him. (Except Danny went up to anyone, being the lovable loverboy that he was.)

  2. Trapped under a house being built or in something that he couldn’t get out of. (But there wasn’t construction going on on our street and he was too smart to go into a small and dark place and get stuck.)

  3. Kidnapped by bad and sca
ry men. (But no one had called us asking for ransom money.)

  4. Dead. (The hardest one of all to write. My hand felt weak and my handwriting went wiggly on the word.) Killed by a car and lying in a ditch somewhere. (But if someone found a dead dog in our neighborhood no one would just leave him there. Even if they wouldn’t touch him they’d call Animal something-or-other to get him. Right?)

  He always wore a brown leather collar that had his name and our address and phone number on it, and I imagined that if someone had found him surely they would have called by now.

  I had tons of homework to do, but since Danny’s disappearance, focusing on anything else seemed nearly impossible. To make matters worse, I had a “date” with Ashton Adams, which was the last thing I needed during this week of critical calamity.

  The phone rang and I put my list down and picked up the purple phone on my bedside table. It was my dad.

  “Daddy, where are you?”

  “Washington.”

  “Oh, I thought you were overseas.”

  “I was. Now I’m here, working on a national political story for a change.”

  “Come home!” I begged. “Please, Dad. Danny’s gone!”

  “I know, kiddo, and I’m as sad as you are.” He cleared his throat. “Devastated for you, actually. I know what he meant to you….”

  “Means to me. Don’t say it like he’s gone for good.”

  “I’ll try to come home in a few days, Bree.”

  “But I need you sooner,” I said louder. “Please, Dad.”

  “Okay, I’ll do my very best.”

  I put the phone back in its cradle and wiggled my cold toes against empty air.

  Think positive, Bree, I heard Lulu say in my head.

  Okay. I would think positive. I would find Danny, no matter what.

  “It’s on Ninth Street off Olympic Boulevard,” my mom said as she drove fast to the shelter. She was, of course, running late coming home, and there were only ten minutes left to get there before they closed at five P.M.