little. âYou must be mistaken, Dog. You canât go to school.â
âNo, Iâm not,â I argue. âI promise. Iâve been trained on how to behave there. She has seizures there sometimes, too, remember? My job doesnât end just because she leaves the house.â
âSo you really have to go to school?â Chaucer asks with wide eyes.
âYes, I really have to go to school.â
Chaucer rolls over on his back and howls with laughter.
I scowl at him. âYou still donât believe me?â
âNo, I believe you,â he says between snorts. âBut the very idea of it...itâs just so ridiculous! Dogs donât belong in school.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause school is for humans . You will stick out like a Saint Bernard in a pen of toy poodles.â
âI donât care about that. I only care about watching over Kinsey.â
âOh, wake up, Dog!â he cries, a grin still plastered to his face. âYou are going to be miserable there.â
âWhy do you say that?â
âWell, first of all, youâll have to deal with a teacher. You know about teachers, donât you?â
âUm, well...I had trainers at the facility. They were my teachers and I loved them. They alwaysââ
âNo, Dog,â he interrupts. âThe classroom teacher is not the same. The classroom teacher will be ugly and mean. All teachers are. They spend all their time thinking of ways to torture kids. And she wonât want you in there. You will be a distraction for the kids while theyâre trying to learn so she will be extra mean to you. Sheâll hate you even more than she hates the kids. Youâre big and hairy and smelly. Sheâll spend even more time thinking of ways to torture you.â
My eyes bulge out of my head. Kinsey has never mentioned how evil the teacher will be.
Chaucer continues right along with his warnings. âAnd you and I both know that some mean kids get a kick out of being cruel to animals. Especially big, dumb dogs like you.â
âHey, you can stop calling me names,â I protest weakly.
He ignores me. âThe other kids will play tricks on you and tell you how bad you smell. Theyâll complain if they have to get too close to you.â
I have no idea what to say to any of this. While Iâve never met a mean kid in person, I have heard about them. And Iâve never considered the fact that some of the kids in our class may, in fact, be those mean kids. Hmm. Is he right? Will the teacher not like me? Will she torture me? Will the other kids treat me bad?
I canât finish the last few bites of my food, no matter how delicious it is. I leave it in the bowl and walk into the dining room, taking my spot under Kinseyâs chair. Chaucer watches me go with a satisfied smirk on his face, then finishes off my canned food for me.
Normally, I would never let him touch my food, but tonight I have too many other things on my mind to care.
You have to be brave and strong , I remind myself. Youâre Drake the Dandy.
But right now, I donât feel brave or strong, and I donât feel like a dandy protector.
Because now Iâm not sure who is more terrified to face the next dayâKinsey or me .
5
The Nightmare
W hen Kinsey takes me to the classroom, the lights are dim. We stand in the doorway, unsure of what to do. In the center of the room there is a large cauldron. Slimy, oozing, green liquid glows in the dark room and boils over a little.
From the back of the room, a woman creeps forward until she reaches the cauldron. The glow from the liquid illuminates her face. In the light, I see jet-black, stringy hair hanging down her back. Her large, brown teeth are crooked and her hooked nose is covered in warts.
âOnly one more ingredient and my stew will be complete. But whatâs missing?â Her voice is growly and fierce.
Suddenly, she locks eyes with me from
August P. W.; Cole Singer