Loudest Beagle on the Block, Page 5

  Finally I stomped back upstairs and let her out. She was so excited to see me. You could tell she’d forgotten that I was the one who’d put her in there in the first place. She leaped and jumped and spun and danced all around me, squeak-barking happily.

  “Well, I’m not pleased to see you,” I said to her, but that didn’t make any difference.

  I was too frustrated to even try playing anymore, so I went to my room and lay down on my bed, pulling my musical-note blanket around me. Bird blooped bubbles at me from my desk. My calendar of famous music venues seemed to be staring at me accusingly like, You’ll never get to the Belfast Grand Opera House that way, missy.

  Trumpet galloped in and jumped up beside me. She flopped right down and rested her head on my stomach. She heaved a big sigh and gave me a look with her big brown eyes like she was saying We’ve both had a tough afternoon, huh? Isn’t it nice that now we can relax and recover together?

  “You know, you’re the one stressing me out,” I said. “Why can’t you be more like Bird? Look at him swimming around peacefully. Look at how nice and quiet he is.” She wagged her tail. She didn’t seem to feel very guilty. Part of me wanted to shove her off the bed, but I didn’t have the energy. And it was kind of nice having something warm snuggled up next to me.

  So that’s where Mom found us when she got home. She was about as pleased as Trumpet was about being shut in the bathroom. She couldn’t believe I hadn’t practiced at all, although I tried to tell her that at least I’d played the piano for a while. And then she found out that Trumpet had shredded all the toilet paper while she was in Mom’s bathroom. I didn’t know dogs could howl and shred toilet paper at the same time, but I guess Trumpet is multitalented.

  “That’s it,” Mom said, putting her hands on her hips. “We can’t have our whole lives disrupted like this. After the will reading on Thursday, we’re finding Trumpet a new home.”

  Isaac whined and screamed and threw a temper tantrum when he heard that Mom wanted to get rid of Trumpet. You would think the dog had saved him from a sinking ship the way he carried on and on. He could have competed with Trumpet for loudest nuisance on the block.

  Dad didn’t like the idea either. He thought we should give Trumpet more of a chance to be a good dog. Mom said she didn’t want us getting attached and she didn’t think there was anything we could do to fix Trumpet.

  I didn’t know what to think. My music is really important to me, and Trumpet could be a real pain in the neck. But when she wasn’t interrupting my practice, I kind of liked her. Maybe I kind of liked her a lot. Maybe I was already “attached.” She jumped up and sat on my lap while Mom and Dad and Isaac were arguing about her. She leaned against me, and when I put my arms around her, she licked the inside of my elbow. I mean, how funny is that?

  So I didn’t say anything. I figured I would wait to see what happened next. Maybe there was a way to make Trumpet a better dog. But I had no idea where to start.

  The next day was Wednesday, and it turned out to be the craziest school day of all time. We were all in the cafeteria at lunch, eating our sandwiches and meat loaf like normal, when all of a sudden I heard some of the kids shouting, “Dog! Dog!” And then Troy Morris hollered, “FOOD FIGHT!” at the top of his lungs, and everything just went haywire.

  This has happened before at our school. Food fights, I mean. But we’ve never had a food fight with a big golden retriever running through the middle of it! Yup, it was Parker Green’s dog, back again. Parker looked fit to explode. You could tell he had no idea how his dog had gotten there. But Merlin went running up to him and then suddenly there was food flying all over the place.

  Well, I know a messy situation when I see one, so I hightailed it out of there. I managed to run to the exit before anything hit me — which was lucky, because I’m sure Avery would have plastered me with something if he’d had half a chance. I hurried down the empty hall and into the music room. It would be much safer there. You couldn’t even bring food into the music room, let alone throw it around.

  I went over to the piano and sat down. There was some unfamiliar music sitting on the piano bench, so I started flipping through it. I figured Miss Caruso was going to teach us something new.

  Suddenly the door to the music room flew open. Parker Green and his dog burst in. Parker didn’t even see me. He practically dove headfirst behind the piano, dragging his dog behind him. There was a kind of crashing thump and then a long silence. All I could hear was Parker and the dog panting.

  I wondered what I should do. Did he know I was here? It didn’t seem like it. Should I pretend I wasn’t here? Surely he’d notice me eventually. This was weird. When had I ever been alone in a room with Parker Green? I didn’t know what the proper etiquette was for a situation like this. Talk to him? Hide? Pretend I was in a coma? I leaned out a little to see if I could see them behind the piano.

  Parker jumped a mile when he spotted me. He kind of grabbed his chest like I’d given him a heart attack.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hey Parker,” I said, trying to act like I have casual conversations with guys like Parker Green every day. “So, I’m guessing you’re not here to practice for the talent show.”

  He smiled. “Just catching our breath,” he said. His dog licked his face, and Parker rubbed the dog’s head.

  “That’s your new dog?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Parker said. “Merlin. The biggest troublemaker in dog history.” Merlin wagged his tail like he was really proud of that title.

  “You should meet mine,” I said, and then I wondered if he would think I was, like, asking him out or something. I just meant that Trumpet was trouble, too, but what if Parker took it the wrong way?

  “You have a dog?” Parker said. “But I thought you didn’t like dogs.”

  Whew. He didn’t notice.

  “I don’t really,” I said. “Especially this one. We inherited her a few days ago. She’s a royal pain.” Except … did I really mean that? I watched Parker put his arm around Merlin. They looked totally perfect together. I couldn’t believe Parker had never had a dog before. He seemed like the type of guy that any dog would love. And he’s kind of outdoorsy and outgoing. A great dog owner. Not like me. What kind of dog would want to spend five hours a day lying around while I played piano? Lying around quietly, I mean. No, Trumpet and I were definitely a mismatch. But looking at Parker and Merlin, I kind of wished that people could see me and Trumpet that same way.

  “They’re worth it, though,” Parker said. “I think. I hope. Eventually.” His dog grinned at me.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “I mean, mine, anyway. This is the only place I can get any peace and quiet from her.”

  “Sorry to bother you,” Parker said, and I felt bad. I didn’t mean that he was interrupting me. Parker Green could interrupt me anytime.

  “That’s OK,” I said. He kind of looked like he wanted to get out of there, so I asked if he wanted me to check whether the hall was empty.

  “Would you?” he said. “Really?”

  “Sure,” I said, getting up from the piano bench. “Stay there.”

  When I opened the door, I saw our vice principal, Mr. Taney. He was sneaking down the hall, peering through the window of each classroom. Pretty soon he would be at the music room. And Merlin’s long golden tail was clearly sticking out from behind the piano.

  “Hi Mr. Taney,” I said really loud, so Parker could hear me, too. “Why are you tiptoeing down the hall?”

  “Hssssst,” Mr. Taney said, flapping his hands at me. He frowned so his bushy white eyebrows kind of squished together. “Have you seen a dog come this way, Miss Finegold?” he demanded.

  “A dog?” I said, trying to make my eyes big and innocent like Trumpet’s. “Do you mean a hot dog? I think it was meat loaf day today, sir, not hot dogs.”

  “No, no!” Mr. Taney snapped. “An actual dog! Fur! Paws! Drool! Sanitation hazard!”

  “A real dog!” I said, opening my eyes even wider
. “What kind of dog?”

  “Any kind of dog!” Mr. Taney shouted, exasperated. He grabbed his hair, which made it stick out like dandelion fluff. “If you’ve seen any dog running down this hallway, I want to know about it!”

  “Gee, I’m sorry, Mr. Taney,” I said. “I haven’t seen any dogs running down this hallway. I didn’t mean to make you shout at me.” I tried to look like I was about to cry. Mr. Taney doesn’t care if he makes kids cry, but he doesn’t usually stick around to watch it happen.

  “They must have gone the other way,” he muttered. “I’ll go around and cut them off!” He turned and hurried down the hallway.

  I waited until he turned the corner, and then I went back into the music room to tell Parker the coast was clear.

  “That was awesome! You saved our butts,” Parker said. “You should be an actress! You’re totally hilarious.”

  I wondered if he could tell that my face was turning pink. No one had ever called me hilarious before. Sometimes I play funny songs to make my little cousins laugh, but they’re three and five, so they pretty much laugh at everything. And this was Parker Green! Parker Green thought I was funny! When I wasn’t even trying to be!

  I didn’t know what to say. Yeah, I am hilarious? You’re right, I did just save your butt? Nothing I could think of sounded cool enough. Finally I mumbled something like, “Oh, I just like to sing.”

  “Well, thanks,” Parker said. “See you later.”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  It was weird. I’d only had Trumpet for five days, but it felt like things were really different. I wasn’t practicing for three or four hours a day like I usually do. Boys like Nikos and Parker were having normal conversations with me. Someone was really excited to see me when I got home from school. The inside of my elbow had been licked.

  And that was only the beginning of how Trumpet would change everything.

  That afternoon, our new principal, Mrs. Hansberry, made us all help to clean up the cafeteria. I could have complained that I didn’t throw any food. I could have said I was in the music room the whole time. Miss Caruso would have backed me up. They might have let me go practice for that hour instead of cleaning.

  But I knew that a lot of other kids hadn’t thrown any food either, and they still had to help. So I figured I should just join in. It couldn’t be any worse than gym class, which I hate more than anything in the world.

  Mr. Peary split us into groups. I got sent to wipe down some of the bright orange chairs with Heidi and Nikos. One of the janitors gave us a couple of sponges, a roll of paper towels, and a bucket of water. Of course, Heidi knocked the bucket over before we even got to the first table. Luckily I managed to jump out of the way, but Nikos’s shoes got pretty wet. Heidi said she was sorry a million times, and Mr. Peary said something nice about how they needed to mop the floor anyway.

  That made me kind of nervous about working next to her. I always think she’s going to knock me over. I mean, she’s really tall, and I’m pretty short. She might drop a sponge on my head without noticing I was there.

  I think Nikos might have been thinking the same thing, because he gave her the paper towels. “Maybe Ella and I can clean the chairs, and you can dry them off,” he said to her.

  “OK!” Heidi said with a smile. I don’t know if she could tell that he was trying to keep her out of trouble, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  I took one of the sponges, got it wet, and squeezed it over the new bucket of water. Nikos lined up the chairs in a row so we could do them all quickly. I told you he’s pretty smart. He thinks about everything like it’s a math problem — and he’s really good at math.

  “Hey Ella,” Nikos said, “how’s your dog? I heard her howling yesterday.”

  There was an enormous crash behind us. I turned around and saw that Heidi had knocked over about six chairs trying to get to me.

  “You have a dog?” she said breathlessly. “What kind of dog? Since when? What’s her name? Can I meet her?”

  I swear she was nearly as excited as Trumpet. If Heidi had a tail, it would be wagging all the time. And it would go into hyperdrive whenever someone mentioned dogs.

  “Her name’s Trumpet,” I said.

  “She’s really cute,” Nikos said. He smiled, and it gave me a weird happy tingly feeling to think that Nikos was the only person here who’d met my dog. (Well, and Isaac, who was picking meat loaf bits off the windows at the other end of the room. But annoying little brothers definitely do not count.) It was like we were friends or something.

  “She’s a beagle. She howls a lot,” I said to Heidi.

  “Oh my gosh, beagles are so adorable,” Heidi said. She was squeezing the paper towels so hard she left finger dents in them. “I saw the one that won the dog show and I thought it was the cutest thing I’d ever seen and I can’t believe you didn’t tell me and Ella please please please say I can come over and meet your dog. Please?”

  “Um, sure,” I said. Heidi? At my house? I was pretty sure she had never been to my house before, even though we’ve been at the same school for like six years. Would my stuff be safe? What if she accidentally set my piano on fire? But she looked really thrilled. And I kind of liked the idea of showing off Trumpet. “Yeah, OK, you can come meet her. She’s really loud, though. I’m just warning you.”

  “That’s OK!” Heidi said. “How about today? After school? My mom won’t mind. I was going to go to the baseball game but I can totally skip it, because, I mean, to meet your dog, that would be so much more fun!”

  “I can’t today,” I said. “I have a singing lesson.”

  “OK, tomorrow’s fine with me, too,” Heidi said. “This is so amazing! I can’t believe you have a dog! I’m so jealous!”

  I’m afraid we didn’t get a lot of cleaning done. Heidi kept asking me questions about Trumpet while I wiped down the chairs. She accidentally threw the paper-towel roll across the room once when she got really hyper and flung her hands in the air. It whacked Yumi Matsumoto in the head. Yumi didn’t look pleased, but I think she was lucky it was just paper towels and not a sponge or green beans or a chair or something. With Heidi, you never know.

  When the bell rang for the end of school, Heidi said, “Have a great singing lesson, Ella! I can’t wait until tomorrow! I’m so excited!” She ran off to the baseball field before I could say anything, like maybe, Are you sure you want to come over? or, Did I actually say yes to tomorrow?

  Nikos grinned at me. He took the sponge from my hand and dropped both of them in the bucket of water. “Heidi will love Trumpet,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you guys out in your yard.”

  “Sure,” I said. My head was spinning a little bit. I couldn’t believe Heidi Tyler was coming to my house tomorrow. To meet my dog! I felt like a whole other person — someone who played outside with friends and a dog instead of practicing her music all the time. Maybe that’s why I was brave enough to say to Nikos, “You can come over, too, if you want.”

  He gave me his cute smile again and said, “Yeah, OK, maybe I will.”

  I wondered what Tara would think of that!

  On Thursday morning, I told Trumpet she was getting a visitor. Trumpet wagged her tail and barked. She looked pretty happy. Then again, she looks like that when I say, “Time to do my homework” or “You are a very bad dog,” too. I wish I always seemed happy. Like Parker and Heidi, who never get upset even when Avery teases them. I bet he’d leave me alone if he couldn’t get a reaction out of me. But that’s a lot easier to say than it is to do.

  “How would you deal with a bully, Trumpet?” I asked her. I was still in bed. Trumpet’s back legs were on the floor, but she had her front paws propped up on the mattress beside me and her long silky ears draped across the pillow. She blinked at me, and then pulled herself forward with her paws and licked my nose.

  “Trumpet, yuck!” I said, rubbing my face. She wagged her tail. “Well, I don’t think that would work with Avery,” I told her. I couldn’t even imagine walki
ng up to Avery and licking his nose. The idea made me laugh, which was the first time thinking about Avery had ever made me laugh.

  I made sure I was dressed and my wild hair was brushed and clipped back before I let Trumpet out into the backyard, but Nikos wasn’t out there. While I ate my cereal, I told Dad that Heidi was going to come over after school.

  To my surprise, this made him react as if I just told him I’d won a Tony Award.

  “Really?” he said with a huge smile. “You have a friend coming over? Have we met Heidi before?”

  “Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “I went to her place for a party once. She’s at all the talent shows and everything. She’s the tallest girl in our class.” I didn’t tell him about her clumsiness. I didn’t want him to worry about the safety of our furniture.

  “Well, that is terrific!” he said. “That is great! I wish I could be here to meet her. Does she want to stay for dinner?”

  “Let’s not get carried away, Dad,” I said. “She’s only coming to meet Trumpet.” And then she’d probably get bored and leave.

  “Aww,” Dad said, scratching Trumpet behind her ears. “Good dog, helping Ella make friends.”

  “I have friends!” I said. “I’m just busy most of the time, that’s all. I’m concentrating on my music, Dad. These are important formative years for my career.” That’s something Mom says all the time.

  “Well, remember to have fun, too,” Dad said. “And if she does want to stay for dinner, we’re having spaghetti and meatballs.”

  To tell you the truth, I was half-sure that Heidi would have forgotten about Trumpet by the time I got to school. She’s always going so fast, I figure she must forget things all the time. But when I sat down next to her in class that morning, she was practically vibrating and humming like a harp string.