Free Guinea Dog by Patrick Jennings Page A

didn’t call me back,” she said when I opened the door. “That was rude.”
    She was wearing a plaid skirt that touched her shoes, a pink blouse with puffy sleeves, and a vest. She was also wearing a very big hat with lots of fake flowers on it. I scanned the cul-de-sac for anyone who might know me.
    “I’m keeping Fido after all,” I whispered. “I have to go inside. Bye.” I started to shut the door.
    “Why?” she asked, slapping the door hard with her hand and pushing it open.
    “I just… do ,” I grunted.
    We wrestled with the door.
    “Invite your friend in, Rufus,” Mom said behind me.
    Perfect.
    I relaxed my grip on the door and Lurena pushed her way in.
    “Thank you, Rufus’s mom!” she said, beaming.
    “Raquel,” Mom said, holding out her hand to shake.
    Lurena held out hers, and they shook.
    “Lurena Shraits,” Lurena said. “I’m in Rufus’s class at school.”
    I peeked my head outside, looking for witnesses to this disaster.
    “What is the matter with him?” I heard Mom whisper to her.
    “It’s okay, Raquel. It’s pretty typical behavior for boys his age.”
    Mom laughed. I didn’t. Instead, I put a secret, silent hex on Lurena’s tongue and brain.
    “Did you know Rufus didn’t call me back last night?”
    Mom laughed harder.
    I wondered if voodoo dolls really worked and how hard it was to make one.
    “I told him I would buy Fido from him,” Lurena went on. “You see, my hamster, Amherst, died, and my chinchilla, China C. Hill—the C. doesn’t stand for anything—needs a playmate, and Rufus said you bought his guinea pig for him because he couldn’t have a dog and he didn’t really want it and that your husband hates it.”
    The way Mom kept laughing, she must have thought everything out of Lurena’s mouth was hysterical, which was funny, because I sure didn’t.
    “I didn’t say I didn’t want her,” I said, which was true.
    “Maybe not in those exact words,” Lurena said, rolling her eyes.
    “He’s decided to keep her, Lurena,” Mom said. “But I’ll let you two discuss the matter privately.” She looked quickly from Lurena to me with this scary, big smile, like she was hoping we’d get married one day, and I panicked.
    “No, Mom! Don’t go!”
    She pried my fingers off her arm, and said, “Now, you two have a nice chat while I do the breakfast dishes, okay?” Then she left me alone in the living room with a girl.
    “The sign’s gone,” Lurena said.
    “Sign?”
    “The one on the door. About no knocking. And the code.”
    “It is ?”
    Dad must have removed it. Only he had that kind of authority. I wondered why he took it down. Was this part of his realizing he’d gone overboard since he started working at home?
    “Where’s Fido?” Lurena asked.
    “Upstairs in my bedr—” I couldn’t finish that word. Not to her. “I don’t want you to go up—you can’t see her right now.”
    “Can you bring her down?”
    “My dad’s working.” I pointed at his study door, but his BE SILENT OR ELSE! sign, with its headstone with R.I.P. carved into it, was gone, too. “We have to be quiet.”
    “Oh,” Lurena whispered. “Can I see your Scrabble tile collection?”
    “It’s up in my bedr—I mean, no. Not now. I’m…” Think fast, think fast. “I was just heading over to Murphy’s.”
    “Oh.” She looked a little dejected. Then she brightened up. “Can I come with?”
    What was the matter with this girl?
    “Are you friends with Murph?” I asked her.
    “Sure! I’ve known him since we were babies.”
    “We’re going to ride skateboards. You’re not really… dressed for that, are you, Lurena?”
    She looked down at her outfit and laughed. “Maybe not! I’ll run home and change and meet you over there. Kay-kay?”
    That was the nail in the coffin of my new “okay.”
    “I doubt we’ll be at his house long. We’ll probably head out right away. You know, riding.”
    “Where are you going to ride?”
    “We never know. Do you