Loudest Beagle on the Block, Page 6

  “Oh my gosh, I’m so excited,” she said. Her red-blond hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, like she couldn’t find her brush that morning. “None of my other friends have dogs.” She said “other friends” like I was one of her friends, without even thinking about it. “I mean, it’s bad enough that Mom won’t let me have one, but you’d think I’d know someone whose dog I could visit, wouldn’t you? I can’t believe Rory doesn’t have one! She totally should. Or Kristal! You know?” Heidi lowered her voice, glancing around to make sure Tara and Natasha were talking to each other. “Tara let me play with her dog a couple of times, but she got bored of that and I didn’t want to paint my nails or look at cute boys’ MySpace pages. Plus, her dog is seriously crazy.”

  Uh-oh. “Mine’s pretty crazy, too,” I said warily.

  “She can’t be as bad as Bananas!” Heidi said. She leaned her chair back and called to Tara. “Hey Tara, isn’t your dog totally insane?”

  “Completely,” Tara agreed, shaking her head so the beads on her braids clacked together. “This morning he got himself stuck between my bed and the wall. I mean, I have no idea how he did that! He was like howling and scrabbling and freaking out and my dad was like, ‘Can’t you control that dog?’ and I was like, ‘Hello, it’s not my fault he needs psychological help or whatever.’ ”

  “Class,” Mr. Peary said, tapping a ruler against his desk. “Time to settle down.” The bell rang, and he picked up a pile of books on his desk. He went to the other side of the room, starting with Maggie, and gave one to each of us.

  He had just gotten to Nikos when I looked down at my desk and saw a piece of paper that hadn’t been there before. It took me a minute before I realized it was a note from Heidi. No one had ever passed me a note in class before. I felt kind of daring and wicked reading it, although it wasn’t as if Mr. Peary was teaching us anything particularly important right then.

  It said:

  Anyway, thanks for having me over. I can’t wait to meet your dog! It’s so funny you have a beagle. I think I would have pictured you with a miniature schnauzer. Or a long-haired dachshund. Or a Yorkshire terrier. Something that looks small and quiet but has a big personality inside. Does that sound weird? Don’t think it’s weird. I think about dogs a lot. OK, THAT sounds weird, doesn’t it? OK, I’ll shut up now. I can’t wait for school to be over! I wish it was 3:00 now!

  I had no idea how to respond to that. Should I write back? What would I say? What’s a schnauzer? Yes, you are weird? Luckily Mr. Peary got to us before I had a chance to do anything. He gave us each a copy of the book he was handing out. Old Yeller. It had a picture of a yellow dog on the front. Heidi’s hand shot into the air.

  “Yes, Heidi?” Mr. Peary said.

  “I’ve already read this,” Heidi said. “And I can’t read it again. It’s too sad.”

  “Don’t give it away!” Danny yelled, clamping his hands over his ears.

  “Oh, come on, Danny,” said Virginia Marvell. She held up her copy of the book in a way that showed off her perfectly manicured fingernails. “You know if it’s something we have to read, it’s going to be sad. Especially if it’s about a dog. We always have to read dog books, and they’re always sad. That’s why horse books are better.”

  “Not always,” Heidi said quickly. “There are some really good books about dogs that aren’t sad.”

  Mr. Peary rubbed his face like he was trying not to smile. “What would you suggest we read instead, Heidi?”

  “Oh, um … The Incredible Journey is really good,” Heidi said. “Or White Fang! I really liked that.”

  “Hey Mr. Peary, shouldn’t you ask all of us what we think we should read?” Danny asked.

  “Sure, Danny,” Mr. Peary said. “Why, you have something in mind?”

  “Um,” Danny said. “OK, no. Not yet. But I’ll think of something!”

  Nikos raised his hand. “I think we should read The Westing Game,” he said.

  “Oh, I know, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea,” said Jonas Mosley. He wants to be a marine biologist. His notebooks are all covered in drawings of fish and whales and octopi. We took a field trip to the aquarium last year and he got lost and nearly missed the bus home. I think he wouldn’t have minded if we’d left him locked inside the aquarium all night.

  “The Black Stallion,” said Virginia decisively.

  “I think we should read The Princess Diaries,” Natasha said.

  “A Little Princess!” Danny blurted. Parker and Eric and most of the other boys in the class started cracking up. “What?” Danny said. “Shut up! It’s my sister’s favorite book.” He shoved Parker’s shoulder. “Shut up, I couldn’t think of anything else.”

  “All right, simmer down,” Mr. Peary said. “I am curious to hear your ideas. So for the next fifteen minutes, write down a list of at least three books you think we could read in class and a reason why. They can be books you’ve read or ones you want to read. Quietly, now, boys,” he said sternly as Danny gave Parker another shove. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll think about whatever you suggest.”

  I turned to a blank page in my notebook and doodled a couple of musical notes in the margins. I tried to remember the last book I had read outside of school. There’s this whole series of “shoes” books about talented orphans that I really like — Ballet Shoes, Dancing Shoes, Theater Shoes — but I wasn’t sure if anyone else would have heard of them.

  Another note slid slowly onto my desk. Heidi kept her eyes on Mr. Peary as she did it, making sure he wasn’t watching us.

  You should write down Shiloh! said the note. It’s about a beagle! It’s awesome! P.S. Is this the longest day ever or what?

  We were barely half an hour into the school day. I wondered if Heidi had some kind of disorder that made a person hyper and clumsy and obsessed with dogs. But it was very cool of her to give me a book suggestion. I wrote down Shiloh at the top of my list. Heidi saw me do that and smiled.

  She passed me two more notes before lunch. One said: Check it out, Parker is so totally not paying attention again. I glanced over at him. Heidi was right. He looked like he was drawing something in his notebook that probably had nothing to do with fractions. So I wrote Yeah, totally on the bottom of the note. I didn’t know what else to say, but that seemed to be enough for her.

  The next note said: Almost lunchtime! Hooray! Seriously, that was it. Heidi was too funny. I had seen other girls pass each other notes before, but I always thought they held big secrets or plans or something. Now I was starting to suspect that Tara and Natasha’s notes to each other were probably as silly as their conversations.

  Finally the end of the day came. Heidi leaped to her feet as soon as the bell rang, but she must have forgotten to zip up her backpack. Everything inside flew out and spilled all over the floor. Pencils and erasers and crumpled up papers and a yo-yo and a lip-gloss tube and about a zillion other things scattered everywhere.

  “Oh, no!” Heidi cried. “I’m SUCH A MORON!” She ducked under her desk and started grabbing everything. I got down on the floor to help her.

  “Thanks, Ella,” Heidi said. “I can’t believe I did that! Oh, hey, here’s my brush. I was wondering where that was.”

  We were the last ones out of the classroom. Nikos waved to us as he left. Not that I cared, but it was the first time that had happened. Also the first time I found myself on the floor of a classroom picking up Skittles. We didn’t try to save those.

  “My mom doesn’t let me have candy in the house,” Heidi explained, “because this one time I left a Jolly Rancher on the carpet and it kind of melted and left, like, a bright green apple–smelling spot. Oh my gosh, I got in so much trouble. We had to replace the whole carpet! So now I can only have candy at school, which is why there’s so much of it in here.” There really was a surprising amount of candy in her backpack. And even more in her locker, where we stopped on the way out. I couldn’t believe how messy her locker was after only four days of school. It looked like a tornado had gone
through it.

  Outside, my mom was waiting in the car. Isaac had gotten there first and claimed the front seat again. Heidi and I got in the back. Mom turned herself all the way around to smile at Heidi.

  “Hello Heidi, it’s very nice to meet you,” Mom said.

  “Mom, you’ve met Heidi before,” I said. “I mean, we’ve known each other, like, forever.”

  “What do you play?” Mom asked her.

  “Play?” Heidi said, confused. “Oh — well, soccer. Although I’m not very good at it. Sometimes I kick the ball into the wrong goal. I just get excited and forget which way I’m supposed to go.” She blushed and smiled and shrugged all at the same time.

  Now it was Mom’s turn to be confused. Even Isaac rolled his eyes.

  “She meant what musical instrument,” I said to Heidi. In Mom’s world, everyone’s life revolves around music. “Don’t worry about it. Mom, not everyone is obsessed with music like we are.”

  “Oh,” Mom said, but she still looked like she couldn’t process that idea.

  “I tried to learn the guitar once,” Heidi offered. “But I broke a string and then my mom said I was being too loud anyway. Oooh, I’d love to play the drums, though! Wouldn’t that be fun, Ella?”

  Mom winced a little, but Heidi didn’t notice. She kept talking as we pulled out of the parking lot. “I think it’s so cool that your whole family is into the music thing. The only thing me and my mom and my dad definitely like to do together is travel, but we all have different ideas about where to go, so it takes ages and ages to decide.”

  “I don’t like music,” Isaac interrupted. “I think what Ella plays is stupid.”

  “Isaac!” my mom said. “Apologize to your sister!”

  “Ella,” Isaac said, “I’m sorry your music is stupid.”

  “ISAAC!” Mom said. Heidi laughed.

  “Ignore him,” I said to her. “He has no soul. There’s peanut butter where his heart should be.”

  “Is Trumpet musical, too?” Heidi asked.

  “Oh, you have no idea,” I said.

  Trumpet had her nose to the glass windows beside our front door when we pulled into the driveway. She stood up on her hind legs like she was trying to see us better. Heidi actually squealed when she spotted her.

  “Oh my gosh!” she said, clutching my arm. “She’s amazing! Look at those ears! Look at that tail! I love her already!”

  We could hear Trumpet barking as we came up to the door. She jumped on me as soon as we got inside, trying to climb up and lick my face and run in circles all at once.

  “Ohhh!” Heidi said, pressing her hands together. “Look how much she loves you!” She got down on her knees and Trumpet immediately jumped into her lap. Heidi scratched Trumpet’s ears and rumpled her fur and rubbed her belly and Trumpet rolled around panting and loving it.

  “All right, I have to go meet your father at the will reading,” Mom said. “I’m dropping Isaac at Finn’s house on the way. Will you two be all right for a couple of hours?”

  “Sure,” Heidi said. I nodded.

  “Call me if you need anything, eat whatever you want, stay for dinner if you like,” Mom said in a hurry and then she disappeared out the door, leaving me alone with accident-prone Heidi Tyler and my crazy, noisy beagle.

  I didn’t even have a moment to feel awkward because right away Heidi said, “Let’s take her outside! Can we?”

  “Yeah, OK,” I said. Trumpet trotted ahead of us to the back door and then hurled herself down the steps from the deck to the yard.

  “Do you have a tennis ball?” Heidi asked. “Do you think she would chase it?”

  “I don’t know. Our closets are more likely to be full of old harmonicas and record albums,” I said, “but I’ll go look.”

  We have one big walk-in closet upstairs that my mom refuses to go near. It’s full of all my dad’s old stuff that he won’t throw away. There are The Smashing Mozarts posters and boxes of tickets for every rock concert he ever went to and signed albums from bands nobody’s ever heard of. Dad thinks maybe he can sell it all for a lot of money on eBay one day, but whenever he says that, Mom goes “Yes, dear,” and that’s the end of that conversation.

  I figured if there were tennis balls anywhere in the house, they’d be in there. And they’d probably be like twenty years old or something. Nobody in my house plays sports except for Isaac’s soccer, and I kind of think Mom encourages that to wear him out so he’ll be too tired to act crazy at night.

  I did find tennis balls in Dad’s closet. A can of three was sitting on a shelf next to a set of drumsticks. I thought for a second, and then I took the drumsticks as well. Dad wouldn’t mind. He’d be thrilled to think I was interested in anything in his closet. It was actually kind of risky, because I might get stuck listening to some of his Smashing Mozarts music. That’s only happened once before, and it was terrible. Poor Dad. It’s like nobody ever told him that shouting and singing are two different things.

  Outside, Heidi had found Isaac’s practice soccer ball and was kicking it around the garden with Trumpet chasing her. I’ve never been to one of our school’s soccer games, but I could tell that Heidi was actually really good. She kept sneaking it away from Trumpet at the last minute and doing these fancy jumps and kicks and footwork to move the ball in new directions.

  Trumpet barked and tried to pounce on the ball. Her ears flew up and down. The ball zipped past her and she stopped, turning to the right and left like she couldn’t figure out where it had gone. She lowered her head and looked underneath her to see if it was hiding under her legs. Then Heidi made the ball pop up in the air, and Trumpet howl-barked triumphantly, running after it again.

  I got to the bottom of the steps just as Trumpet ran under Heidi’s feet, and Heidi tripped over the dog and the ball. She crashed to the grass, and Trumpet immediately jumped on her stomach to lick her face.

  “This is heaven,” Heidi said to me as I came up to her. She laughed and rolled away from Trumpet’s tongue. “Literally, when I die, I want to end up in a yard playing with a dog for the rest of eternity.”

  I sat down on the grass next to her and Trumpet came over to climb into my lap. “I want to be on a stage performing for a huge audience that loves everything I sing.” I put down the drumsticks and the tennis balls.

  “Gosh, you’re brave,” Heidi said, sitting up and shaking her head so grass flew everywhere. She had bits of dandelions scattered through her hair. “That’s, like, my worst nightmare.”

  “Really?” I said. I knew Heidi hadn’t been in any of the talent shows, but I thought that was because she couldn’t sing or something.

  “Performing in front of people?” Heidi said. “I would totally, like, accidentally get tangled in the curtains and make the whole theater collapse. Or fall off the stage. Oh my gosh, that’s exactly what I would do. I’d be in the middle of a song and then I’d FALL OFF THE STAGE! Thanks, Ella, my worst nightmare just got much more detailed.”

  “At least you’re not also naked,” I offered.

  “Aaaah!” Heidi cried, covering her eyes. “I am so having that dream tonight! Look what you did!”

  “All right, think about Trumpet instead,” I said with a smile, popping the lid off the tennis ball can.

  “Trumpet would catch me if I fell off the stage naked in front of millions of people, wouldn’t you, Trumpet?” Heidi said. Trumpet wagged her tail. She put her front paws on my knee and stretched up to sniff at the tennis-ball can. I handed one of the balls to Heidi.

  “Here you go, Trumpet,” she said, letting the dog sniff it. “Go get it!” Heidi threw the ball to the other end of the yard.

  Trumpet watched it fly through the air and land in a clump of tall grass. Then she looked back at us like, What’d you do that for?

  “Go on! Fetch!” I said.

  Trumpet yawned and scratched behind her ear with her back paw. Heidi giggled.

  “I guess she’s about as good at fetching as she is at singing,” I said. It w
as weird to be sitting outside in my yard instead of at my piano practicing. Especially with Heidi Tyler, of all people.

  “She sings?” Heidi said. “That is so cool! Just like you!”

  I shuddered. “Hopefully not just like me.”

  “Can I hear her?” Heidi asked. “How do you make her sing?”

  “The better question is how to make her stop singing,” I said.

  “Ooo, make her do it!” Heidi said.

  “OK, but let’s go inside, then,” I said. “I think the neighbors hate us enough already.”

  Heidi and Trumpet followed me inside. We stopped in the kitchen for apple juice and then went into the music room. Trumpet immediately jumped into her favorite chair again.

  “Wow,” Heidi said. “She’s totally waiting for you to play. That’s hilarious!” She sat down on the black-and-white floor rug that looks like a chess board. Trumpet wagged her tail, but stayed where she was, her eyes focused intently on the piano.

  I slid onto the piano bench. I felt kind of weird playing my music for just Heidi. But then, I only had to play a few bars. Once Trumpet started howling, she’d get the idea pretty quickly. I started “Alhambra,” and Trumpet immediately flung her head back. She warbled joyfully at the ceiling as I sang. Her eyes were almost closed and she looked like this was the best thing that had ever happened to her in her whole life.

  I stopped and turned around. Trumpet kept howling for a second. Then she opened her eyes and cocked her head at me. Like, Why did you stop? I was just finding my groove!

  “That was so awesome!” Heidi said, clapping and laughing. “Too hilarious! She loves your singing!”

  “I’m glad someone does,” I said, “but she has a funny way of showing it. Plus it makes it kind of impossible to practice.”

  “Really?” Heidi said. “She does that every time?”

  “Every time!” I said. “I haven’t been able to rehearse at home all week.”