Max, page 5
Max’s eyes remained locked on the red toy as he brought his mouth ever so slightly closer to it. Finally, his muzzle rested against the smooth rubber. He opened his mouth slowly, and gently closed his teeth around the Kong. Justin pulled his hand away as Max began chomping, loud and hard.
“Good boy, Max,” Justin said softly, still trying not to spook the dog. Justin wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he couldn’t resist: He reached out his hand to pet Max’s head. “Good boy.”
Without even looking in Justin’s direction, Max ducked and jerked his head away before Justin could touch him. The dog scooted backward and dropped to the ground, where he lay on his belly and maneuvered the Kong with his mouth and two front paws. Justin took a step backward.
“Looks like you’re cool now, Max,” he said. “See you in the morning.”
Justin walked back toward the house. Suddenly, he heard Max’s long chain rattling, and the dog began barking and howling even louder than before. Justin spun around to see Max up on his back feet, straining forward against the chain, his collar tight around his throat.
“What is wrong with you, Max?”
In reply, Max stopped barking and sat down. Justin studied him for a long moment, not sure what to do, then shrugged and started to leave again. Max raised his nose toward the sky and let out a long, distressed howl. AHWOOOOO.
“JUSTIN!” his dad bellowed from inside the house.
“I’m trying!” Justin shouted over Max’s wailing.
“Y’all shut that dog up,” came a voice from the house next door. “You hear me, Wincott? Shut him up or I’m coming out with my .45!”
“Come on over, Mr. Hidalgo,” Justin called back. “You’d be doing me a favor, seriously!”
The only response was the slamming of the Hidalgos’ window. Justin took that as a good sign.
The chorus of voices only upset Max more. He was back up on his hind legs, pulling harder against the chain, barking frantically. Justin’s nerves were shot, his ears were ringing, and he just wanted the sound to stop—he wanted it all to stop. He just wanted life to return to the way it was before Kyle left. Before Kyle died. Before Max came to live with them. He squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists. The barking pounded into his head.
Justin opened his eyes.
“What do you want, Max?” he asked through gritted teeth. He took a step toward the dog.
Max stopped barking.
A thought occurred to Justin, and he backed away. Max let out a low growl. Justin stepped forward again. Max went silent, his eyes big and hopeful.
“No way. You—you want me to stay?” Justin asked. He shook his head and let out a laugh. “I’m not staying out here with you. My bed’s in there.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the house. “Sit, Max. Just—sit. Please.”
Max sat and bowed his head a little. Justin tried to leave again, but Max’s woeful whimpering stopped him in his tracks. Justin exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging. There was no getting out of this—not if he wanted anyone in the entire neighborhood to get any sleep. He walked back to Max, who looked up at him expectantly.
“Fine,” Justin said, flopping down onto the grass, but keeping a few feet between him and Max. “But I can’t stay here all night. Just until you fall asleep.” They stared at each other as they came to an understanding. “Okay?”
Max lay back down on his belly and, tilting his head sideways, snatched up the Kong with the side of his mouth.
“Right. Okay,” Justin said.
Max paid Justin no mind as he got to work on his chew toy. Great, Justin thought. So I’ll sit here on the wet grass instead of in my warm bed, and you’ll just ignore me. Justin ripped up a handful of grass and poked at it in his palm. The night surrounded him. The only sound was the gnawing of Max’s teeth against the rubber, which was now coated in thick slobber. Justin lay back and stared up at the moon and the thin clouds painted against the dark sky.
I’ll just lie here for a minute, he thought as sleep took over.
SOMETHING PAINFULLY BRIGHT WAS SHINING AGAINST his eyelids. Justin opened his eyes and squinted into the flat morning sun.
“What the—”
He sat up and looked around, confused. His head was pounding, and his neck and back were stiff. The day was already hot. Max sat just inches away, his paws lined up straight out in front of him, his ears pricked up and his eyes on Justin. Like he’s been watching me, Justin thought.
“How long have I been asleep?” Justin asked. Max sniffed at him, his nose brushing almost imperceptibly against Justin’s arm. Max exhaled sharply through his nostrils, his breath hot on Justin’s skin.
“Justin? What are you doing out here?”
Justin whipped his head around to see his mom standing in her pink bathrobe.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you been out here all night?” she called from the doorway.
Justin glanced at Max, who put his head down on his paws, as if he could finally get some rest after a long night’s watch. Max’s tail thumped gently against the grass.
“No. I mean, yeah, I guess. Sort of. I was just . . . hanging out with Max,” Justin said to his mom.
A huge grin broke out on her face. “Looks like you could use some pancakes.” She stepped back inside the house. Justin could see her moving around the kitchen. He stretched his arms over his head and looked down at Max. “You must be hungry, too, boy.”
Max just gazed up at him with his big brown eyes.
Mom stuck her head out the kitchen window.
“I almost forgot,” she said. “Chuy called. He said it’s urgent.”
SEVEN
THE HOUSES ON EITHER SIDE OF THE STREET PASSED BY in a blur as Justin raced by on his bike. He pedaled harder, reaching the edge of his neighborhood and turning down a wide gravel path that led into the thick green woods. Justin always loved the way it instantly got quiet when he hit the dirt path that wound through the trees. He cruised along the familiar trail, where he knew every curve and tree root. He pumped his legs and took some air as he sailed over bumps and dips.
Justin had barely seen Chuy since Kyle’s funeral, and he knew that his friend was desperate to see him. The funny thing was, Justin was pretty excited to see him, too, which was way different than how he’d felt yesterday. Justin wondered if Max had anything to do with it. Maybe he should always sleep outside on the ground?
He could hear the voices of his friends before he reached the big opening in the trees. A large curved ramp made of reclaimed wooden fences circled the makeshift bike park. He watched as a bunch of kids on their bikes raced along the ramp’s edge, pushing one another to go even faster. He could already hear Chuy’s laugh as he joked with all the other bikers.
Justin pulled into the clearing and slammed on his brakes, sending a cloud of dirt into the air. It was still morning, but the day was already humid and sticky.
A few heads turned in Justin’s direction.
“What’s up, hombre?”
“Where you been, man?”
“Good to have you back, J.”
Chuy skidded up to Justin on his bike and hopped off.
“Yo, you look like crap,” Chuy said.
“Good morning to you, too.” Justin rolled his eyes at his friend. Leave it to Chuy to notice that he’d spent the night using his backyard as a bed.
“Seriously, man, you look worse than my mom on my sister’s prom night.”
Justin shrugged. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“You better work on your beauty rest,” Chuy said.
“Is that why you called at the crack of dawn? To give me beauty tips?”
“No, man.” Chuy dismissed Justin with a wave. “And sorry about calling your house.”
“It’s cool. Let me guess. Your cousin is all worked up because you never gave him this?” Justin pulled a slim plastic DVD case from his pocket and waved it in front of Chuy’s face. Justin almost wanted to laugh at Chuy’s comical sigh of relief.
“Dude, you took off like your pants were on fire when my dad showed up,” Justin chuckled. “You could have stuck around for another thirty seconds.”
“I’m not stupid enough to mess with a war hero, dude,” Chuy said.
“What war hero, man?”
“Your dad. I hear he got his leg shot up in some crazy firefight in Vietnam.”
Justin shook his head. “Iraq. But close enough.”
Chuy didn’t seem to hear him. He was too busy cocking his arms as if he were holding a machine gun. He made a rat-a-tat-tat noise as he shot off a series of imaginary rounds.
“Yo, they should send me into a real fight,” Chuy bragged. “I’ll show them what a hero is.”
“You’re real cool under pressure, huh, Chuy?” a girl’s voice came from behind them. Justin spun around to see a girl about his age leaning on the handlebars of a bike. He’d never seen her before. She was dressed in all black—black cutoff shorts, black high tops, a black My Chemical Romance T-shirt. Thick black bangs crossed her forehead. Even her heavy eyeliner was black. Under the eyeliner, she had huge brown eyes, which focused intently on Chuy, then on Justin.
“Shut it, Carmen,” Chuy said.
Justin was confused. How did Chuy know this girl?
“Hi,” she said to Justin.
“Uh, hi.” Justin gave her a lame half wave, then instantly regretted it.
“This is my cousin,” Chuy said with a disgusted nod toward Carmen.
Justin couldn’t think of anything to say. Her dark eyes were still zeroed in on him, making his cheeks feel kind of hot. “You have a lot of cousins,” he finally blurted out.
“Tell me about it.” Chuy rolled his eyes, and Carmen shook her head at him, annoyed. “She’s staying on my couch. I can’t even watch TV anymore.” Chuy leaned toward Justin and said in a loud whisper, “Her pops kicked her out.”
“Chuy, stop making up stories,” she said with an exasperated sigh.
“Is it true?” he asked. Carmen nodded. “What happened?”
She tugged on the collar of her T-shirt to reveal a fresh tattoo on the side of her neck. It was a small black dog paw. He had to admit that it looked pretty awesome against her tan skin. He also noticed that she had a few feathers woven into her dark hair. None of the girls at Justin’s school dressed like she did. She looked way cooler—it was like she was Goth or punk or something.
“Nice,” said Justin.
“We were eating dinner and my dad saw it,” Carmen said. “He told me to get rid of it or he’d do it himself. So I handed him my knife and told him to go ahead. He just stood up, called my aunt—”
“My mom,” Chuy interjected.
“And told her he didn’t want to look at my face anymore,” she finished. “So here I am.”
“Lucky me,” Chuy said. He crossed his skinny arms and rolled his eyes at her.
“Shut it, Chuy,” Justin and Carmen said at the same time, then both laughed at the jinx.
Justin could see that Carmen was almost his height, and way taller than Chuy. His best friend always complained that he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, and that he was going to be way taller than everyone in their class by the time summer break was over, but Justin wasn’t so sure about that.
“I’m Carmen,” she said.
“Yeah. I mean, I’m Justin.” He gave her a shy smile. Was he supposed to shake her hand or something?
Chuy looked back and forth between them. “I’m out,” he said with a sigh, pocketing the burned CD. He picked up his bike off the ground and pushed it toward the ramp. “You gonna ride with us?” he called back over his shoulder.
“Can’t,” Justin said. “I have to go take care of the dog.”
Chuy stopped and turned back to Justin, his eyebrows raised. He ran a hand through his curly hair, making it stick up even taller and messier.
“Yo, that’s right. I heard you got your brother’s crazy war dog. My cousin Felix works at the church. He said that dog tore up a whole bunch of Marines and put them in the hospital.”
Justin held up a hand to stop Chuy from talking. “He didn’t put anyone in the hosp—”
“You have an MWD?” Carmen interrupted, a look of surprise on her face.
“How do you know about MWDs?” Justin asked. He barely even knew what it meant, so how did Carmen know?
“She’s really into dogs,” Chuy answered for her. “She’s like the dog whisperer.”
Carmen ignored Chuy and stepped right in front of him, blocking his view of Justin. Chuy tried to scoot around her, but she kept moving, like a defensive basketball player protecting the net. “What kind?” she asked Justin.
“What kind of what?” Justin peered around her to look at Chuy, who wore an expression of sheer irritation. Carmen, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying messing with Chuy. Justin chuckled. He couldn’t deny that it was sort of satisfying to see Carmen tormenting his friend.
“Your dog? What breed is he?” Carmen asked, while Chuy hopped up and down behind her.
Finally, Chuy faked her out and slipped in front of her.
“He’s not really my . . .” Justin trailed off. He wasn’t sure how much Chuy had told her about his family. About Kyle. “He’s kind of like a German shepherd, but with a black face.” He waved a hand in front of his own face to indicate Max’s snout, then realized how dorky that must have looked and let his hand drop.
“Belgian Malinois,” Carmen said with a firm nod. She put her hands on her hips. “Cool dog.”
“Actually, Chuy’s kind of right . . .” Justin said.
Chuy threw up his hands and mumbled, “Finally, someone acknowledges the truth around here.”
“Max is totally crazy,” Justin went on. “He won’t let anyone near him but me. And he won’t even let me touch him.”
“Just be patient with him,” Carmen replied. “He’ll come around. Sounds like he’s been through a lot.”
“Yeah, I guess he has,” Justin said. So Chuy had told her about Max and Kyle. Justin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. People were going to treat him differently now that he’d lost his brother—he knew that—but he wished Carmen wasn’t one of them.
A long look passed between Justin and Carmen. She did seem cool, and he wanted to trust her. He needed all the help he could get with Max, but the last thing he wanted was for anyone—Carmen in particular—to help him because they felt sorry for him. He was not down with a pity party.
“She’s like a Cesar Millan if Cesar Millan were a chick,” Chuy said, breaking the silence. “She’s even got the mustache to prove it.”
In the blink of an eye, Carmen lashed out and swatted at Chuy, who hopped on his bike and pedaled away from her. He stopped just out of her reach. She looked back at Justin and rolled her eyes about her cousin. Justin laughed.
“If you need some help with him—the dog, not Chuy, I mean—I can come by and teach you a few tricks,” Carmen said.
Chuy’s head snapped around and his mouth hung open, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He gave a low whistle. “What? Did she just invite herself over to—”
“Sure, uh . . . why not,” Justin replied quickly.
Chuy’s head shot around the other direction, and he gaped at his friend. “What? Did you just say she could—”
“How about later this afternoon?” Carmen said. “So I have time to cook up some treats for him? Like, three o’clock?”
“Cool,” Justin said, but the word sort of got stuck in his throat. He didn’t know why his face suddenly felt hot, but he had an overriding urge to turn his bike around and get out of there as quickly as possible. He hoped Carmen was as good with dogs as she said she was—he didn’t want Max to go crazy on her. It’d be his butt on the line if she got hurt.
He jumped back on his bike and pedaled off in one direction, while Carmen rode off in another. Chuy looked completely abandoned.
“Dude—” Chuy shouted after Justin as he sped off. “What the heck just happened?”
Justin answered with a backward wave over his shoulder. It was a good question—what had just happened?
EIGHT
JUSTIN STOOD IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR AND RAN HIS fingers through his hair. Again. He looked down at his T-shirt and decided that it wasn’t the right one to wear. Again. He pulled it over his head and was just about to change into a new one—Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon—when he heard Max barking ferociously outside.
Justin stepped to his bedroom window and looked out, only to discover that Carmen and Chuy were standing right below his room. They looked up to see Justin framed in his window, shirtless. Justin wanted to hide—or maybe completely disappear—but it was too late. Chuy let out a wolf whistle, and Carmen just grinned.
Justin grimaced in embarrassment. He ducked down below the window frame and slipped on his shirt. Max was barking like mad in the yard. Justin hurried downstairs, crossed through the house and slid open the back door. Carmen and Chuy had stayed a few feet away from Max—just beyond the reach of his chain.
Carmen cast a sideways glance at Justin’s T-shirt as he crossed the yard.
“Pink Floyd?” she teased. “You’re one of those deep ones, huh?”
“What? They’re the original emo.” He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, pushing his spikey bangs away from his eyes. Then he turned back to the barking monster that was tied up in his yard.
“It’s okay, Max,” Justin said as gently as he could. He took a few steps toward the dog. “It’s okay, buddy. These are my friends.” He held out the Kong, but Max just kept snarling and snapping. “Take it easy, buddy.” What he really wanted to say was “Please don’t eat my friends. Especially not the pretty one,” but he managed to keep that to himself.
