Free A Dog’s Journey by W. Bruce Cameron Page A

in circles a few times and lay down on the soft rug. The shouting made me anxious, though, and within a few seconds I was back on my feet.
    “Sure, that’s how it works. You just leave me in a box on the front porch and they come by on Tuesdays to pick it up and take me to be an orphan.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “Yes. You’re going to call Social Services and tell them you don’t want to be a mom anymore. So then there will be a hearing. And the judge is going to want to know where you were all last week—Aspen—and where you were when you went to Vegas when I was thirteen, and where you were when you went to New York for a month. And you know what he’s going to say? He’s going to say that you need to go to jail. And everyone in the neighborhood will know. They’ll see you getting into a patrol car in handcuffs with your fur coat over your head.”
    “My mother left me alone when I was a lot younger than you. I never complained.”
    “The same mother who beat you with garden tools? Who broke your arm when you were eight years old? I don’t think you would.”
    “My point was, I was fine. You were fine.”
    “Well, my point was, they arrested your mom and they’ll arrest you, too, Gloria. The laws are a lot more strict now. You don’t have to actually send your kid to the emergency room to wind up in jail.”
    Gloria was staring at Clarity, who was breathing hard. “Unless,” Clarity said in a low voice, “you let me keep Molly.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “I’ll tell the judge that I lied to you. That I told you I was going to school, but actually I was skipping. I’ll say it wasn’t your fault.”
    “It wasn’t my fault!”
    “Or I can tell him about you leaving me all the time on your little trips with your boyfriends. That’s the deal. I keep Molly and I’ll lie to the judge. If you try to make me get rid of her, I’ll tell him everything.”
    “You’re as horrible as your father.”
    “Oh darn, Gloria. That one doesn’t even upset me anymore. You used it on me too often. So what do you want to do?”
    Gloria left the room. Clarity went over to me and petted me and I curled up on the rug and fell asleep. When I woke up, Gloria was no longer in the house. Clarity was in the kitchen and I arose with a yawn and went in to see what she was doing. A delicious odor was in the air.
    “Want some, Molly?” Clarity asked me. She sounded sad, but she fed me toast. “No honey butter for you, though,” she said. “That’s people-only food.”
    She stood up from the table and opened a bag and soon the air carried with it the tantalizing smell of more toast. She dropped a toy on the floor and I chased it, my nails scrabbling on the smooth floor.
    “You want the lid? Okay, you can have the lid,” she told me.
    I licked the toy, which had an amazing sweet scent to it, but there was nothing to eat on it. I chewed it. Clarity got up from the table and made more toast, and then more, and then more, while I happily chewed on the toy. Then she stood up. “Out of bread,” she said, throwing a plastic sack into the trash can. I wagged, thinking she would come over to play with the toy, but instead she went to the counter and I heard her open a plastic bag and then she made more toast. She kicked the toy and it slid across the floor and I jumped on it. Every time she got up to make more toast, she would kick the toy and I would chase it. I found that if I put my front paws on it I could slide on it until I hit the wall. What a great game!
    “All gone. Come on, Molly,” Clarity said. I followed her into her bedroom. “You want to sleep on this pillow? Molly?” Clarity patted a pillow and I jumped on it and shook it in my teeth.
    Clarity didn’t want to play, though. She lay on her back with her eyes open. I put my head on her chest and she ran her fingers through my fur, but there was a change overcoming her, a darkening of her mood. I cuddled with her, hoping I could lift her