Strays Like Us Read online

  “Holy ravioli!” Lardvark said, peering over my shoulder. “Is Margery some kind of caveman?”

  “I don’t know what she is.” I grabbed the stick of salami and a package of bologna. “She likes to eat, though, that’s for sure.”

  “She likes to eat meat,” Lardvark observed, following me outside. “It’s like a delicatessen in there.”

  “Okay, now.” I pointed to the section of the fence that was nailed over. “Toby can reach to just about there on his chain. So if you throw the meat over there, he’ll be able to get it.”

  “I don’t know what kind of aim I have.” Lardvark looked nervous all of a sudden as I unwrapped the stack of bologna slices and pushed it into her hand. “I’m not really an athlete.”

  “You don’t have to be.” I peeled the netting off the salami stick and shoved it in her other hand. “Just go over there and toss this stuff over. There’s no way you can mess it up.”

  But I was wrong.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  Lardvark lobbed that meat so far over the fence that even if Toby weren’t chained to a pole, he wouldn’t have been able to find it. I watched with disbelief as it went sailing far beyond the tree with the yellow leaves and disappeared from sight. I couldn’t see Toby, but I could hear the yank and stop of the chain as he started lunging. The sound, combined with the barking, which had reached a new level of desperation, was almost unbearable.

  “Ugh!” I kicked the edge of the porch. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I told you!” Lardvark reached up and yanked the edges of her white hat down around her ears. “I don’t have any aim at—” She gasped suddenly and ducked low, covering her head with both hands.

  “Now what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was a whisper. “I thought I heard something break. It sounded like glass.”

  I thought of the first time I’d seen Toby, how Mr. Carder had been upstairs in the second-floor window, glaring down at me with that shotgun in his arms. There was no way we could risk some other confrontation. “Just come back, then. Come on, forget it. We can—”

  “Shhhh!” Lardvark was still crouched down low, but she’d turned her head toward the fence. “Stop talking!”

  I watched as she moved closer to the fence and then pressed an ear against one of the slats. What in the world was she doing? Toby’s barking had turned into a whine, a high-pitched, pitiful sound that droned on and on. “Oh!” Lardvark hissed. “There it is again!”

  “There what is again?” I called from the porch. “More glass?”

  “No!” Lardvark looked over at me, her face a map of terror. “It’s someone’s voice! Inside the house! And it’s saying, ‘Help me!’ ”

  I thought she was fooling around. Or maybe trying to distract me from the fact that she’d just wasted an entire half pound of German bologna by making up some crazy story.

  Then I heard it.

  It was hoarse and gravelly and so faint that at first, I thought I was imagining things. But then it came again.

  “Help!”

  I raced across the lawn, straight toward Lardvark’s big eyes and white hat. “Did you hear it?” She clutched at my sleeve. “Did you hear it that time?”

  I nodded, rolling up on my tiptoes in an attempt to see over the fence. But it was too high. I took a step back and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Mr. Carder?”

  There was no answer.

  Lardvark looked up at me in the stillness that followed and then yanked on the leg of my pants. “Why don’t we go in and call Margery?” she whispered.

  “No way.” I shook my leg until she let go. “She already had to leave work early once today because of me. She’ll freak out if she has to leave again.” I cupped my hands around my mouth a second time. “Hey, Mr. Carder, are you in there?” Still no answer. Even Toby had gotten quiet.

  And then, almost as if he was calling from the end of a very long road, we heard Mr. Carder’s voice. “Yes! In here! Please help!” It was even fainter than the first time and so weak that I wondered if he had used his last breath to push it out of him.

  “We’ve got to get in there,” I said, racing toward the end of Margery’s driveway. “Something’s happened. He’s hurt.”

  “Well, then, let’s call 911!” Lardvark tried to keep up with me, but it was hard for her to run. She sort of loped along for a few seconds and then fell back, waving one arm. “We shouldn’t just run into some strange guy’s house! Especially someone who’s already threatened one of us. What if it’s a trap? What if he’s just trying to lure you in there?”

  I slowed when she said that. My gut told me she was wrong, that even someone like Mr. Carder couldn’t make his voice that weak and pathetic-sounding. And how about the fact that his truck was still parked in the driveway? Even Margery had pointed out how strange that was. But now that I thought it all the way through, it made perfect sense. His truck was there because he was still inside. He’d gotten hurt somehow and hadn’t been able to go to work this morning. And no one, except Lardvark and me, knew it.

  Still, it was hard to ignore Lardvark’s warning, which, combined with Margery’s repeated and insistent demands about staying away from Mr. Carder, eventually made me stop walking altogether. Lardvark was right. It would be foolish to go racing inside a strange man’s house. There was no telling what we’d find once we got inside—or what we wouldn’t.

  “How about we just check around outside the house?” Even gasping for breath, Lardvark still managed to look concerned. “For the broken glass.”

  “What’ll that do?”

  “Maybe he threw something.” I followed Lardvark as she strode past me into Mr. Carder’s yard. “Like through a window. You know, to get our attention. And maybe that’s where he’ll be.”

  It was a good idea. Actually, it was a great idea. I was a little annoyed that I hadn’t thought of it myself. We rounded the corner into Mr. Carder’s yard, pushing back dead branches and vines that had collected on one side of the fence. Toby went berserk as we came into view, leaping and pulling so hard on his chain that I thought the pole behind him might come out of the ground. “Shhhh!” I nodded in his direction. “Just hold on a second, buddy. Hold on.”

  Lardvark grabbed on to me again as we crept around the side of the house. “Are you sure that dog can’t get off his chain?”

  “Would you stop?” I said, pushing her hand away. “And it’s a metal chain. There’s no way he can get loose.”

  A little whimper escaped her mouth, and I felt a pang of guilt. But even without touching me, she was still so close that I could hear her breathing against my neck. “This place is creepy,” she whispered.

  I couldn’t disagree. Mr. Carder’s house was an ugly, ramshackle building with a rotting front porch and peeling blue paint. Dead bushes and plants cluttered the edges, and the windows were so dirty they looked almost opaque. But there on the left-hand side, just below a tattered shade …

  “Look!” I pointed to a jagged hole in the bottom of the first-floor window.

  “That must’ve been the glass I heard breaking,” Lardvark said.

  I scanned the lawn until I spotted the dark blue coffee mug. It was chipped on the rim, and the handle had broken off, but it was about the same size as the hole in the window. I ran over and picked it up. “What do you think?”

  Lardvark inspected the mug, turning it over in her hands. “It must be what he threw.” She looked up at me. “Maybe he fell or something. And he’s really hurt.”

  I crept over to the hole in the window and peered inside. It was impossible to see anything beyond it, but an odd smell drifted from the interior. “Mr. Carder?”

  Behind us, Toby barked over and over.

  “Careful,” Lardvark whispered. “Don’t get too close yet.”

  I started to pull back but stopped as a grunting sounded through the hole. I leaned forward again. “Mr. Carder! Are you in there? Are you okay?”

  It was impossible to hear h
is response over the barking. I turned around and looked up at Lardvark. “Will you go see if you can find that bologna you threw? It’s the only thing that’ll make him be quiet.”

  Her face blanched.

  “You don’t have to go anywhere near him,” I encouraged her. “Just find the meat and toss it over. You know. Toward him this time.”

  “Okay.” She hurried off, keeping a wide distance between herself and Toby.

  I turned back to the window. “Say it again, Mr. Carder! Tell me what’s wrong!”

  “Hurt!” His voice hovered somewhere between a moan and a gasp. “My neck!”

  “The salami!” Lardvark crowed across the yard. She held the stick of meat aloft, like a trophy. “I found it!”

  “Well, give it to Toby!”

  Lardvark winced. “I don’t want to get too close.”

  I forced myself not to roll my eyes. Man, she was a wimp. An honest-to-goodness cream puff. No wonder she got picked on. She was every bully’s dream. “Just roll it toward him,” I said. “You know, near enough so he can reach it.”

  She tipped the salami cautiously in Toby’s direction. I held my breath, and the meat stopped just close enough so that Toby could take it in his mouth. He attacked it, biting and snapping and tearing at it.

  I turned back to the window. “We’re going to get help, Mr. Carder! Don’t worry, all right? We’re going to call for help and someone will come right away.”

  “I’m dialing now.” Lardvark pulled out a silver iPhone from the pocket of her army-green coat and punched in the number. “Hello, yes? Um … our neighbor is hurt.” She looked at me and shrugged, but I nodded. “We’re not really sure. We haven’t been inside the house. But we can hear him through the window. And we’re pretty sure he can’t get up.”

  I leaned closer to the window, but it was too dark to see anything. I could hear Mr. Carder’s breathing, though, which had shifted into a hoarse, gasping sound. “Tell them to hurry!” I told Lardvark.

  There was no way of knowing just how badly Mr. Carder was hurt, but things didn’t look good. And I was pretty sure if someone didn’t get here fast, it was going to get much, much worse.

  It was almost dark by the time the two medics wheeled Mr. Carder out of the house. He lay on a stretcher, wrapped tightly in white blankets, with both arms resting on top. There was a white plastic collar around his neck and a nasty gash on his forehead. Dark blood trickled down one side of his face, and his eyes were closed.

  “Oh!” Lardvark gasped when she saw him. “He’s not dead, is he?”

  “No.” The medic at the front of the stretcher shook his head. “But he passed out just a few minutes ago. He got knocked up pretty good in there.”

  “What’s that thing around his neck?” I trotted to keep up with him.

  “It’s a brace. To keep his neck still. We’re not sure yet, but it looks like he might’ve broken it.”

  Lardvark gasped a second time. “Do you know what happened?”

  “No.” The medic nodded to the other one. “One, two, three.” Together, the men lifted the stretcher and slid it inside the ambulance. “He was having trouble talking when we found him. And then he fainted. If I had to guess, though, he fell down a flight of stairs. He wasn’t too far away from them.” He shut the ambulance door. “From the looks of it, he was there for a while, too. At least eight hours.”

  “Oh!” Lardvark covered her mouth. “That’s terrible!”

  I shuddered a little thinking of it. If the medic was right, that would mean that Mr. Carder had fallen early this morning, maybe just after I’d gotten picked up by the bus, and then lain there all day. No one deserved that. No matter how mean they were.

  “Fred?” Margery’s voice cut through the darkness as she roared up on her motorcycle. She steered the bike directly across the driveway into Mr. Carder’s yard and yanked off her helmet. Her eyes were wide as she strode toward us. “What’s going on here? What happened?”

  “It’s Mr. Carder,” I told her quickly. “He fell and broke his neck. At least that’s what they think happened. They’re taking him to the hospital.”

  I could see some of the fear drain out of Margery’s face as she absorbed my explanation. “Will he be all right?” she asked the medic.

  He tapped twice on the closed ambulance door. “We’ll get him there as fast as possible and make sure he gets taken care of. You’re not his daughter, are you?”

  “No, just a neighbor.” Margery sighed heavily. “For the last twenty-seven years.”

  “Okay.” The medic gave us a wave. “We’ll try to track down a relative and let them know what’s going on.” He glanced at Lardvark and me. “You girls did a good job, calling us when you did. Another few hours, and I’m not sure he would have made it.”

  The three of us watched as the ambulance rolled down Mr. Carder’s driveway. The red and blue lights cut large neon swaths through the darkness, and the siren began to wail as it turned onto the main road. Just as the last strains of it faded in the distance, Toby began to howl—long, sad, circular noises that, if I didn’t know any better, sounded like crying.

  Margery let her head fall back between her shoulders. “Oh Lordy, the dog.”

  “Can we bring him over here?” The question was out of my mouth before I realized I’d asked it, and Margery looked at me so sharply that I wondered if she’d known I would. “Please? Just for tonight? So he’s not all alone?”

  “Fred.” Margery eyed me steadily. “That dog is probably the closest thing to a wild animal you’ll ever see. I can’t have him in my house. I just can’t. He’ll rip everything to shreds.”

  Toby howled again, and I could tell by the way Margery clenched her mouth that it was tearing her up inside, too. Just maybe not as much as me.

  “So we’re going to ignore him?” I glared at her. “Listen to him howl all night?”

  “I don’t have a choice. I’m sorry.”

  “What about the shop?” I tried. “Can he stay in the shop, at least?”

  “My workshop?”

  I nodded. “We can keep a leash on him so he doesn’t run around or anything. Maybe put some blankets in there and give him some food, and just …” I shrugged. “Just, you know, stay with him for a little bit.”

  Margery inhaled deeply. Her eyes looked doubtful, and I was sure she was going to find some other reason to say no. But she didn’t. “All right. But just for tonight, Fred. I mean it. I don’t have the time, space, or energy to care long-term for a dog. Especially this one. Is that clear?”

  “Yes!” I was already running toward the fence.

  “Hold on a minute!”

  I stopped. “What?”

  “Don’t you have an introduction to make?” Margery tilted her head toward Lardvark, who was just standing there, looking at the ground.

  “Oh. Sorry.” I walked back over. “This is …” But I couldn’t remember her real name. I was pretty sure I’d heard the art teacher say it when she’d been taking roll, but now it escaped me. And there was no way I was going to call her Lardvark, which, as far as I was concerned, was one of the meanest, ugliest names I’d ever heard in my life. “Um … a girl I met. From school.”

  “What’s your name?” Margery asked.

  Lardvark lifted her head the slightest bit and peeked out from beneath her blond bang shelf. “Lardvark,” she whispered.

  “Pardon?” Margery cocked her head.

  I just stared at her.

  “Ardelia,” Lardvark said, flustered. “My name’s Ardelia Lark. But everyone’s called me Lardvark since fifth grade.”

  Margery looked over at me, and I saw something flit across her face. Confusion, maybe? Or was it understanding? “It’s nice to meet you, Ardelia.” She extended one hand. “You don’t have any relation to the Lark and Grove Steel Company in town, do you?”

  Lardvark nodded. “It’s my dad’s.”

  Margery nodded. “The welding factory I work for gets most of their materials from there.”<
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  “That’s nice.” Lardvark looked over at me.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?” Margery asked.

  Lardvark’s eyes widened a bit at the invitation. “Really?”

  “Sure.” Margery shrugged. “I have a great salami in the fridge that I’ve been waiting to put together with a little pasta and Parmesan cheese. That appeal to you at all?”

  Lardvark and I exchanged a quick glance. “Sure.” I could hear her suppressing a giggle. “That sounds great.”

  “You know what’s funny?” Lardvark stood a good bit behind me as I made my way over to Toby in Mr. Carder’s yard. “I wasn’t really sure of your name, either, until Margery said it just now.”

  I nodded but kept my gaze focused on Toby, who was leaping and jumping all over the place. The closer I got to him, the higher he jumped. His droopy ears rose and fell, slapping the sides of his head, and the chain pulled so tightly against his neck that I could see the pink-and-red sores beneath it. “Okay, buddy,” I said softly. “Okay, now. You’re going to come with me, but you have to chill out, all right?”

  “Is it really Fred?” Lardvark asked. “Your name, I mean?”

  “Winifred.” I tried to make eye contact with Toby, hoping it might calm him down, but he just bounced around like a crazed Easter bunny. There was no way, once I got the chain off him, that he was going to follow me into Margery’s shop. He was too excited. Too wound up. I turned around and looked at Lardvark. “Would you go inside and ask Margery for a leash? I’ve got to put something around his neck after I take the chain off so that he’ll come with me.”

  “Sure.” She turned and vanished into the darkness.

  I moved closer to Toby, who was still straining against his chain. “Please, buddy.” I held out my hand. “Come on. You’ve gotta settle down. You just have to. Margery’s already nervous about having you over. If you keep acting all crazy like this, she’s going to throw you out. She’s nice enough, but she has her limits.”

  I had to hopscotch my way toward him, since most of the ground was littered with poop. There were small indentations, too, where he had dug holes, and I wondered if that was how he amused himself, if maybe that was how he kept from going crazy, tied up to the pole every day like he was. Digging holes in the ground. Maybe looking down into them, waiting for something to look back up.