Free Smells Like Dog by Suzanne Selfors

again.
    “No.” Homer kept walking.
    “Why can’t I come with you?”
    “Just because. Sorry.”
    “Oh. Okay. Bye, Homer. See ya tomorrow.”
    Homer turned onto Peashoot Lane, hurried over the wooden bridge, then stopped at the edge of town. He’d never been there in the middle of the night and the stillness surprised him. No trucks chugging along, no old men complaining about the price of grain, no school kids screaming from the playground. Dark and shut up tight, Milkydale seemed like a ghost town.
    Rather than cutting across the road, Homer kept close to the buildings, in case the cloud drifted by. The Milkydale Public Library stood next to the schoolhouse. The old wooden building had gotten a new coat of white paint last year and a new brass sign for the entrance. Moonlight tumbled off the library’s roof but each of the windows was pitch black. Homer hurried up its front steps. He tugged on the door handle. Even in a town like Milkydale, where no one ever stole anything except maybe a piece of nickel candy now and then, library doors were locked at night. He’d brought the Swiss army knife for lock-picking—something he’d never done but had read about. But fortunately, just around back, Homer spied a window that was cracked open. Hefound a wheelbarrow in the library’s garden and rolled it beneath the window. Then he collected some garden bricks and stacked them inside the wheelbarrow, until, when standing on the top brick, his stomach reached the window’s sill. For a moment he wondered if he’d forgotten something. Flashlight, check. Swiss army knife, check. Compass and coin, check. Everything seemed in order. He slid the window open and climbed in.
    Losing his balance, Homer landed face-first in the stairwell that connected the library’s main floor to its upper floor. No one yelled, “Who’s there?”, which was a huge relief. His face throbbed, but his nose didn’t seem broken. Cautiously, he stood. Then he pulled the flashlight from his pocket and clicked it on.
    The moment Homer entered the main room of the Milkydale Public Library, his fear faded. You see, the library was one of the few places where Homer felt completely at ease, where he was supposed to do the exact thing that he loved doing best of all. In a library, people who
don’t
read are considered to be the weird ones.
    Anyone who loves books the way Homer does, loves libraries, too. It doesn’t matter if the library has fancy red leather chairs and gold-plated shelves that reach to a vaulted ceiling, or if the library has splintery wooden benches and shelves made of old milk crates. It’s the scent that sets the book lover at ease. It’s better than grandma’sperfume, or freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, or even toast. It’s a scent derived from paper, mildew, dust, and human endeavors. The oldest books smell best of all, ripened by time like expensive goat cheese.
    But there was no time to stand around enjoying the aroma. The coin mystery needed to be solved!
    Homer knew exactly where to find books about coins but just as he started across the worn carpet, someone knocked on the front door. He whipped the flashlight around. Carlotta pressed her face against the door’s oval window.
    “What are you doing here?” Homer asked after unlocking and opening the door.
    “You forgot your dog,” she said, squeezing her way in. Dog followed, his velvety ears swaying with each step. “I was petting him and then you disappeared into the shadows. He started walking around in circles. He looked so sad. What’s the matter with him?”
    “He can’t smell. I guess if he can’t see me, he doesn’t know how to find me,” Homer realized. He felt real bad about forgetting Dog. He still wasn’t used to having something to look after. He reached down and patted Dog’s head. Next time they went for a walk, he’d be sure to bring a leash. “Sorry, boy.” Dog wagged his short tail.
    “Say, whatcha doing in here?” Carlotta closed