It's a Doggy Dog World Read online

  “Hi, Mrs. Cragg. I didn’t realize you were going to be here today.”

  She laughed. “Well, your dad asked me to come by this afternoon because he had to take his car in for servicing.” She wiped her hands on a towel. “He told me you’re the one whose idea it was to give me another chance. I want you to know how much that means to me, Jimmy. You’re a very good boy.”

  “Well, you were nice to us at the end and helped us.” I looked at the stove. “Are you cooking something? No offense or anything, but my mom said you weren’t allowed in the kitchen.”

  She laughed. “None taken! Yup, I’m cooking something up, but it’s not for you.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope.”

  She looked down, and I followed her gaze to the floor, where there was a dog happily wagging her tail, looking up adoringly at Mrs. Cragg.

  You want to know who that dog was?

  Abby.

  Yup.

  ABBY!

  My mind went blank with shock.

  FACT: Sometimes it takes about ten seconds for your brain to believe what your eyes are seeing.

  All I could say was one word.

  “Huh?”

  “I know,” Mrs. Cragg said, “isn’t it wonderful? We’ve become the best of friends.” She clapped her hands together and whistled cheerfully as she bent down to pet Abby, who licked Mrs. Cragg’s hand in return. Then Mrs. Cragg gave her a small piece of the sausage she was cooking.

  FACT: Sausage will make a dog love you really fast.

  Holy smokes, I thought to myself. Mrs. Cragg had turned into a combination of Mrs. Doubtfire and Dr. Dolittle.

  “Your dad said to tell you that he’ll be home around suppertime,” Mrs. Cragg said. “Do you have any particular plans this afternoon? Will you be watching that TV show you like, or reading those vampire books you always read?”

  “Actually, no,” I said. “I don’t really do that stuff that much anymore.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “I’ve gotten real busy lately. I have a group of friends now and I’m on the lacrosse team and I have to take Abby to obedience training and stuff like that.”

  “Well, I think that’s terrific,” said Mrs. Cragg. “You don’t want to be spending too much time by yourself. It’s good to be out and about.”

  “I agree.” I sat down at the kitchen table and called to Abby, who jumped up onto my lap. “How did you and Abby become such good friends so quickly?” I didn’t say the part about how the last time they saw each other was when Mrs. Cragg’s brother tried to kidnap Abby.

  “Well, treats help, of course,” Mrs. Cragg said. “And it turns out she doesn’t hold a grudge. She’s decided to give me a second chance. And frankly, I must say, she seems much better behaved.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “She’s in obedience training, and she’s one of the best in the class.”

  “How wonderful!”

  “I know, it’s great, I’m really proud of her,” I said, which was half-true. I was really proud of her. I just wasn’t sure how great it was.

  Mrs. Cragg reached into a closet and pulled out a large, gift-wrapped box. “Speaking of second chances … I’m very grateful, Jimmy. And to thank you, I’ve brought you and your little pal a little present.”

  “Wow!” I said, looking at the box. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.” She smiled. “Go ahead.”

  I tore off the wrapping paper, and there was a long wooden box with a bone design all over it, and a really comfy-looking pillow inside. ABBY was spelled out in handwriting on the side of the box.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed. “It says Abby! This is totally awesome.” I looked at it again. “What is it?”

  Mrs. Cragg smiled, and I noticed that she’d gotten her yellow teeth whitened since the last time I’d seen her. (Or maybe she just got a new set of teeth.) “I figured, if I’m going to get you to like me, the first thing I need to do is get your dog to like me,” she said. “I remember how she likes to sleep in your closet during the day, so I thought I’d give her a little bed to sleep in.”

  I looked at her. I immediately recognized exactly what this box looked like—a coffin! Which, of course, is what vampires sleep in.

  FACT: A coffin-shaped bed is a gift you should only give under very special circumstances.

  Did I ever tell Mrs. Cragg that I thought Abby was a vampire? I couldn’t remember.

  “This is amazing, Mrs. Cragg. Thank you so much.” Then I bent down. “Abby, look! A new bed! Do you want to try it out?”

  Abby went over to the bed and sniffed it but didn’t get in.

  “Maybe later,” Mrs. Cragg said.

  I wasn’t about to give up. “Abby, are you sure? This is perfect for you! And you love napping during the day!”

  Abby licked my hand and walked away.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I told Mrs. Cragg. “It’s like … she’s so much better behaved now, but she’s changed so much that sometimes I don’t even recognize her. All the stuff she used to love …” But my voice trailed off before I finished the sentence.

  “Sometimes change is a good thing,” Mrs. Cragg told me gently. “Just look at me.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, that’s true. It’s nice to see you so … nice.”

  Mrs. Cragg laughed. “Miracles do happen, right? So give her a chance. She might change, but she’ll always be your Abby.”

  “I guess so,” I said.

  We sat quietly for a minute, then she asked, “Do you have some after-school plans?”

  I nodded. “We’re all meeting at Irwin’s house. Usually we go to the Boathouse, but his mom is finally picking up our club sweatshirts today.”

  “How fun!” said Mrs. Cragg.

  But as she poured me a bowl of cereal (Sugar Flakies, my favorite), I noticed Mrs. Cragg’s face turn a little sad. “I remember the Boathouse,” she said. I realized she was thinking about the last time she was there—when the police finally caught her brother, Barnaby Bratford, after we trapped him.

  “I’m sorry I brought it up,” I said.

  She smiled at me. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  After eating, I hopped up. “I should go. I think they’re waiting for me. Thanks again for the cool bed for Abby.”

  “Of course!” Mrs. Cragg walked me to the front door. “Have a wonderful time.”

  I looked at her standing there, with Abby nuzzled up against her leg.

  I guess it’s true what they say.

  Anything is possible.

  WHEN I WALKED INTO IRWIN’S KITCHEN, Irwin, Daisy, and Baxter were already wearing their sweatshirts, chattering excitedly—but when they saw me coming, they immediately got quiet.

  “Those look great!” I said.

  “Yours is in the living room,” Irwin said.

  “Cool.” I ran into the other room, put the sweatshirt on, ran to the bathroom to see what it looked like, and ran back into the kitchen, all in about five seconds. I waited for everyone to tell me how awesome I looked. But they didn’t say a thing.

  A minute went by.

  “What were you guys just talking about?” I finally asked.

  “Nothing, really,” Baxter said. “You’re a little late, though.”

  Daisy crinkled her nose at me. “Nice of you to show up, Mr. Lacrosse Star.”

  “Star? Ha!” I said. “I’ve only played one game so far.”

  Irwin’s eyes narrowed. “You did sit with Chad at lunch today.”

  “And aren’t you going to his house after the game on Saturday?” asked Daisy.

  “Yeah,” added Baxter, “aren’t you?”

  I immediately realized what was happening. Chad was one of those kids that we always used to make fun of, because we knew we could never be anything like him. And now my friends were starting to wonder if I was becoming exactly like him.

  “Yeah, so he invited me to a barbecue one time, so what,” I said. “What did you guys want
me to do, say no?”

  The three of them looked at one another, but nobody said anything.

  “Hey, guess who my new babysitter is?” I said finally, changing the subject.

  “We give up,” said Baxter.

  “I’ll give you a hint: She wears a red wig.”

  Irwin nearly fell off his chair. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “Nope. Not kidding.”

  “Wow,” said Baxter. “My aunt? Really?”

  “Was this your parents’ idea?” asked Daisy.

  “Actually, it was my idea,” I said. “I know it sounds crazy, but when I saw her picking up Baxter the other day, she looked really sad. I thought she deserved another chance.”

  Daisy smiled. “That’s really awesome, Jimmy,” she said, which made me feel a warm glow all over.

  “Wow,” said Baxter. “I bet she really appreciated it.”

  “She did.” I was feeling better. Like the guys liked me again.

  “I think it’s a little weird, actually,” Irwin said. “How do you know that she’s really changed? That she’s not going to do the same crazy stuff again?” Irwin looked at Baxter. “No offense or anything, but your aunt pretty much scared the bejeepers out of me.”

  “It’s okay,” said Baxter.

  “Well, I think it’s great,” Daisy said to me. “I think you did a nice thing.”

  “Me too,” Baxter added.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  We all looked at Irwin, to see if he was going to continue being irritated by everything I said or did.

  “We made some progress on the secret admirer case,” he said finally. “It turns out that all the notes came from a Scooby-Doo notebook.”

  Daisy nodded. “So we’re going to meet by the buses after school tomorrow and see who has a Scooby-Doo notebook or Scooby-Doo backpack.”

  “Jimmy and I can’t,” Baxter said. “We have lacrosse.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Let’s just do it next week.”

  “I’d rather do it tomorrow,” Irwin said.

  “What’s the rush?” I asked. “It’s not like someone is stealing jewelry all over town or anything.”

  As soon as I said it, I looked at Baxter, whose face turned red.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “It’s okay,” he said, for the second time in five minutes. Jeez, it must have been hard to be him sometimes.

  “You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want,” Irwin said. “But Daisy and I have made up our minds. We’ve been waiting for four months for a new case, because we live in the most un-crime-y place on earth. So now that we have an actual mystery, we want to solve it. Right, Daisy?”

  Irwin looked at Daisy with a pleading expression on his face. She glanced back and forth from Irwin to me. It was obvious she was torn over what to do. She knew I was mad when they went and had cupcakes without me after our last meeting. She wouldn’t hurt my feelings again, right?

  Finally, she nodded. “Sorry, Jimmy, but I agree with Irwin. He and I will meet tomorrow and report back.”

  Wrong.

  FACT: If someone made a list called TEN THINGS THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN TO JIMMY BISHOP, “Being cheered on by cheerleaders” would probably be at the top.

  YET, THERE THEY WERE.

  We had cheerleaders!

  They weren’t at the last game because they only cheered at weekend games, but there they were—ten girls with skirts and pom-poms, jumping up and down and shouting our names as if we were their favorite people in the world.

  I was thrilled, but my mom wasn’t. “I find cheerleading a hopelessly old-fashioned tradition,” she said as we saw them practicing. “Why is it that the girls are always cheering for the boys? Why aren’t the boys cheering for the girls?”

  My dad snorted. “Because that would just be wrong, that’s why.”

  “You’re a pig,” my mom told him.

  “That’s a little harsh,” he told her back.

  “Is not.”

  “Is too.”

  “What is this, first grade?” complained Misty. She was there completely and totally against her will, by the way. I knew that because before we left the house, she told me, “I’m going to this game completely and totally against my will.”

  “Hi, Jimmy!” squealed a few of the cheerleaders as I got out of the car. “Good luck today!”

  “Thanks!” I told them. “I’m going to do my best!”

  My sister looked like she was about to throw up.

  I ran out to join my teammates, and we began stretching. The team we were playing, Glenvale, pulled up in their bus and started warming up on the other half of the field. Coach Knight pulled me aside and pointed at a huge kid wearing number 27.

  “He’s the one you have to watch,” Coach said. “He’s got a wicked lefty shot.”

  “Got it, Coach.”

  “Go get ’em out there!” And he smacked me on the top of my helmet, which stung a little bit, not that I was going to say anything about it.

  Just before the game began, I looked up into the crowd.

  “I already checked to see if Daisy and Irwin came after all,” Baxter said. “They didn’t.”

  “Whatever.” I picked up my stick. “We’ve got a game to win.”

  The game was close. That big lefty was a great player, and he scored against me in the first and second quarters. But no one else did, and at halftime, the score was tied, 2–2.

  We all huddled up on the sideline to get something to drink and listen to the coach give us our pep talk. “So far, so good!” urged Coach Knight. “I like how hard you guys are working out there! But the one thing I need you to do is—”

  CRACK!!!

  Coach was interrupted by the loud, unmistakable sound of wood cracking. We all looked around and realized the only wood anywhere around us was the bench we were all sitting on.

  Then we heard it again … three short, sharp sounds.

  CRACK … CRACK … CRACK!!!

  And in an instant, the left side of the bench completely collapsed, and three kids—Marty Linsky, Jeff Provost, and Cedric Feathers—crashed to the ground in a heap.

  “OWWW!” they all hollered.

  The rest of us all jumped up like we’d been shot out of a cannon, while a bunch of adults ran down to the field to find out what had happened. Marty had a cut on his shin, Jeff was holding his knee, and Cedric was lying on his stomach, saying his butt was killing him.

  Coach Knight started running around, hollering at anyone who would listen. “That was crazy! We were having our halftime meeting and the bench just buckled! The whole thing folded like a cheap tent!”

  “First an exposed storm drain on the field, and now this!” said one parent.

  “We need to find a new place to play, once and for all!” said another.

  “Too bad our kids don’t play for LaxMax,” said a third. “This would never happen at their field.”

  “What’s the deal with LaxMax?” I asked Chad. “People talk about them like they’re gods or something. Are they really so great?”

  “Their benches don’t break, I know that much,” he said.

  While the parents took care of the kids, the ref came over and asked Coach if we wanted to play the second half. Coach looked at the hurt players, and they all nodded. After a minute, Coach Knight nodded too.

  “Yes sir,” he told the ref. “We’ve got a game to win.”

  Everyone cheered, including the kids who got hurt, and we took the field.

  The second half was just as close as the first. Our team was really fired up after the halftime excitement, and we scored two quick goals in the third quarter, but their lefty kid scored one and then somebody else on their team scored a lucky goal when his shot deflected off Baxter and past me, into the net.

  “Baxter!” I hollered.

  “What?” he hollered back. “It’s not my fault! I was trying to block the shot!”

  “Well, you blocked it right into our goal!”

&nbs
p; He stared at me and shook his head. “Buzz off,” he mumbled, but I could tell he felt lousy, which suddenly made me feel lousy.

  It was 4–4 with three minutes left in the game when Chad took the ball up the field, faked out about three guys, then passed to Eric Pacilio, who snuck an underhanded shot past their goalie. We were ahead! Their team called time-out.

  There was no bench to sit on, so we all gathered around the coach, ready for our final instructions.

  “I’m going to make some changes, just for the last few minutes,” he said. “Baxter, take a little break.”

  Baxter looked shocked. “You want me to come out?”

  Coach Knight patted him on the back. “You’re doing great, son, but you seem a little tired. I’m going to put Gendels back there on defense just to close things out.”

  Baxter slowly took his helmet off and went to sit down on the bench. I couldn’t help but think that maybe it was because I’d blamed him for their last goal.

  I went and sat next to him for a second. “Hey, Baxter. I’m really sorry.”

  But he just looked at me and didn’t say anything.

  “Let’s go get ’em!” hollered the coach. I didn’t have time to think about hurting Baxter’s feelings, or Daisy or Irwin skipping the game to search for Mara’s secret admirer, or anything else other than protecting our lead. That’s what athletes have to do—block everything out and concentrate. It’s kind of like what Hank Barlow has to do when he’s trying to solve a crime, or Jonah Forrester when he’s on the trail of a bad guy.

  Hank and Jonah! Boy, I hadn’t thought about them for a while. They were like two old friends that I hadn’t seen a lot of lately—

  “Bishop! Why are you still sitting there? GET GOING!”

  Uh-oh. The coach was in my face, hollering, because I was still sitting on the bench next to Baxter, and the game was about to start again. I was thinking about focusing so much that I totally forgot to focus! Baxter was watching me, sipping a cup of water.

  “Get out there and hold ’em,” he said.

  I nodded at him gratefully. “Thanks. I’ll try.”

  I ran out onto the field. We were still winning by one goal, there were two minutes left to play, and we had the ball. Everything looked like it was under control. But all of a sudden, with twenty seconds to go, the left-handed kid stole the ball and started storming down the field right toward me.