Free Nobody's Dog by Ria Voros

cans and newspapers, waiting for Mason to find the lastcan of tomato juice in the store room. He said there were eight and I’ve loaded seven into grocery bags, but he thinks we’ll need all eight, so he’s searching for it. I showed him how much money I have — six dollars and seventy-five cents — and he says he’ll expect the rest later. At this point I’m happy to give him whatever he wants.
    Chilko waits outside by the loading area. He’s stopped sneezing and gagging but he’s pretty miserable and his eyes are swollen. Mason says the tomato bath will make him more comfortable — and easier to be around.
    â€œHere it is — you got a bucket?” Mason comes out from behind some boxes with the last can.
    â€œI don’t have anything. I can’t go home with him like this,” I say.
    â€œWon’t your aunt understand? I mean, there’re lots of skunks around here. Dogs and cats get sprayed all the time.”
    â€œI don’t think so. She’s not like that.”
    â€œShe won’t help you in your time of need?”
    â€œYou don’t know my aunt,” I say. I gave Mason the basics about my living situation, but I haven’t told him that Chilko isn’t my dog. It’s best if he knows as little as possible.
    He shrugs. “That’s too bad. Well, the only thing I can think of is two doors down there’s a preschool. They have a plastic kiddie pool that’s empty right now, and this morning I saw it on their lawn.” He points at me. “I guess you’re stealing the kiddie pool.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œWell, I’m in this far enough for my liking,” Mason says, holding up his hands. “You can get your hands dirty now.”
    â€œCome on, Mason,” I say. “I don’t want to steal a kiddie pool.”
    â€œMan, this is your issue, not mine.” He turns away, grabbing a chocolate bar from a box.
    â€œDo you get freebies here?” I ask.
    â€œI don’t have to pay for everything right away,” he mutters. “They trust me, I
work
here.”
    I stare at him, wondering how I got into this mess in the first place. Oh yeah — J followed Chilko and Chilko chased a skunk and now we’re all here with Mason who’ll tell me what to do but won’t help. I sit on a box of toilet paper and it sags under me. J has to think quick. “Do the owners check their stock room? I could come back tomorrow and tell them you’re stealing their stock.”
    â€œNice try. It’s not going to work. Just stop your fear mongering.” He chomps the chocolate bar.
    â€œOr you could just help me now, because otherwise I’ll stay here all night with my reeking dog, and maybe I’ll rub him all over your store. Got enough tomato juice for that?”
    â€œCome on. He’s not a biological weapon,” Mason says.
    â€œOh no?” I call Chilko and his big, stinky head appears in the doorway.
    Mason groans. “Fine. But you’re doing all the work. I’m just lookout.”
    My stomach grumbles. I take a piece of Mason’s chocolate. J feels like some kind of superhero. He thinks in some insane way, this could be fun.
    The street is empty and quiet. Most of the apartments are dark.
    â€œIt’s over there.” Mason points.
    Beside a purple house with a big preschool sign is a pink and yellow paddling pool. It’s empty. It waits for us. My heart starts thumping.
    â€œI’ll stay here and let you know if someone comes,” Mason says. “Just go and grab it as fast as you can. Speed is the thing here.”
    â€œWhat if I trip?” I ask. The preschool’s lawn, separated by a chain-link fence, seems really far away right now.
    â€œYou’ll be fine,” Mason whispers. “Go. Don’t trip.” He pushes me onto the sidewalk.
    A waft of skunk hits my nose. I run.
    The paddling pool is the only