Free Nobody's Dog by Ria Voros Page B

you were younger —”
    â€œYeah, I’ve heard it before, Mom,” Mason says.
    Mom? I shift to see better behind the boxes.
    â€œIt’s nice of you to help the dog, but really, Mason, you’re not usually so thoughtful. Where’s the owner?”
    â€œI don’t know. He’s probably a stray.” He holds on as Chilko tries to get out of the pool. “How’d you know I was here?”
    â€œTom Webber saw you in the preschool yard and called me.” Mrs. Kreeley bends to look at Chilko, who’s dripping in the pool, looking sad. “This guy’s got a really bad dose of skunk. Tomato juice won’t do it.”
    My foot is falling asleep as I crouch behind the boxes, but I don’t dare move in case I make a noise.
    Mason’s mom sighs. “I’ve got some shampoo at home left from the cat. Tie the dog up and come get it. You can hose him down and then it’s up to you.” She points afinger at Mason. “I expect all this mess to be gone by morning. Understand?” She glances at something on the floor. “You been snacking again? Remember what happened when Dad found your last pile of wrappers.”
    Mason follows her to the car without looking at me.
    I have no choice but to wait.
    Mason comes back with the shampoo but by then I’m starting to panic. It’s already 4:09. I didn’t expect to be out so late. The sun will be up in less than an hour. It’s cold out here too. Chilko’s coat keeps him warm even though he’s wet, but my hoodie is thin cotton and it’s been a long time since dinner. I’m ready to eat something from the store and let Mason take the heat.
    â€œOh, man, the stink’s even worse than before,” Mason moans, holding his nose.
    â€œYou’re so dramatic,” I say. “I’ve been waiting for almost an hour and I haven’t passed out from the fumes.”
    Mason rolls his eyes. “You sound like my mom.”
    â€œYou got the shampoo?”
    â€œYup. But you can do the soaping.” Mason throws the bottle at me.
    I catch it and let Chilko sniff it. He moans a little.
    â€œThis isn’t your dog, is it?”
    I look up from twisting off the cap.
    Mason crosses his arms over his chest. “Whose dog is it?”
    J can’t ignore that one. Mason’s my only ally right now. “He’s belongs to a friend,” I say.
    â€œUh-huh. Well, your ‘friend’ must really trust you. You missed behind his ear.”
    I look down at the foam covering Chilko’s neck. At least it’s got a smell that helps to take away the skunk stench.
    Suddenly I feel like I could sleep for a week. This is so much more than I bargained for tonight. I just want to crawl into bed and forget it ever happened.
    Chilko shifts and whines, looking at me.
    â€œYou’re being really good,” I tell him. “Almost done.” I soap up his back legs and tail, and soon he looks like a white, fluffy soap-dog.
    â€œUh — not sure you were supposed to use that much,” Mason says. He picks up the bottle, reads the label. “Fifty pounds, is he?”
    â€œI don’t know. Probably more.” I reach for the hose before Chilko tries to shake. “Just figured I’d cover my bases.”
    Mason shrugs. “I have no idea where you’re from, or if J is your real name. Maybe you’re a runaway. But you’re pretty attached to that dog. I wish I was that into something.”
    I turn on the hose and pray Chilko will stay in the kiddie pool. I know I’m going to end up soaking wet either way. The water makes the shampoo drip off in foamy clumps.
    â€œI can’t believe he’s just staying there,” Mason says. “Are you a dog whisperer?”
    â€œA what?”
    He steps back as water sprays the wall. “A guy who can train dogs and talk to them, understand them.”
    â€œWe’re just buddies,” I