Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes(101)

 

“You make it sound like I’m in jail.”

 

“As far as I’m concerned, you are. Come here.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me off the sofa. “How about a kiss for good luck?”

 

I gave him a good one, trying to make him forget about going. But it didn't work. He walked to the front door.

 

“Please be careful, Joe,” I choked out through the lump in my throat.

 

He turned to look at me. His face looked like it belonged on Mount Rushmore, his profile hard with determination. “You still have to play in the rain,” he said, breaking out into a mischievous smile. “I want to do that one with you. Don’t do it without me, okay?”

 

I nodded, afraid I’d burst out into tears if I said anything.

 

And then he was gone.

 

I must have paced a furrow in his living room floor. I glanced at the clock. Only ten minutes had passed. I had no idea how long Joe would be gone. It could be an hour. Or ten. I threw myself on his sofa in frustration, sure I was gonna go crazy before he came back.

 

Then I heard barking.

 

I scrambled up. The sound came from the backyard. I ran into Joe’s bedroom and looked out the window. Over by my shed, at the edge of all the contents that still littered the yard, stood Muffy. Barking.

 

Muffy never barked. Why was she by the shed? She moved next to the rose bushes and howled, a chilling, haunting whine.

 

My stomach tumbled with nervousness and indecision. That dog meant everything to me. What if she ran away again? I couldn’t just leave her out there.

 

I ran to the front and peeked through the cracks of the curtains. No cars on the street, nothing suspicious-looking. Should I risk it? If I got caught, Crocker would know Joe helped me.

 

I returned to the bedroom window. Muffy had stopped howling and lay down on the mulch by the roses, waiting for me. She’d turned her body so I could see her back hip and the red splotch on her fur. She was bleeding. I knew I had to go to her. The question was how I could get her and not give myself away.

 

I’d climb out the back window.

 

I’d learned a lot about climbing out of windows the last few days, so I was much quicker than the first time I tried it. I even landed on my feet and plastered my body to the rear of the house. Dark rain clouds were rolling in and Joe’s yard was more shaded than mine. I could run through his backyard and most likely stay hidden. Then I’d skirt through the trees, make my way to the back of my yard and get Muffy.

 

The first part worked perfectly. I sprinted to the rear of Joe’s lawn and practically vaulted his three-foot fence. It helped that I hadn’t put on my shoes. While I was wearing my clothes from the night before, I figured heels were impractical running through wildlife.

 

I made it through the trees, directly behind the rose garden. It was a good twenty feet from the tree line. “Muffy!” I called. She turned her head to look at me, but kept her head lowered and whined.

 

“Muffy!”

 

She continued to ignore me and started digging in the dirt where I buried the gun. Did Muffy want me to dig up the gun?

 

As crazy as it was, it seemed like a good idea.

 

I bolted to Muffy and checked her backside first. Dried blood covered the wiry hair on her back left hip, but it looked old. When I tried to look more closely, she dug with her back legs, kicking dirt in my face. I let her go and started scooping dirt with my hands, thankful Muffy had a head start on me. In less than thirty seconds, I had the bag uncovered.

 

“Now what, Muffy?” I asked, thinking I needed to go back the way I’d come. I guessed I could push Muffy up into Joe’s bedroom window.

 

Muffy whined and ran into the trees. I tried to coax her toward Joe’s house, but she sat down in the shadows and whined again.

 

I kneeled beside her, rubbing her head. “What is it, Muffy?”

 

That’s when I heard the pounding on Joe’s doors. I dropped to the dirt, hidden by the shade of the trees. Two men beat at the door on the side of Joe’s house, one of them busting it in with a good kick. I clung to Muffy, shaking. I would have been in the house if she hadn’t come back and barked. After several minutes, they came back out, along with two other men. One of them held the shoes I wore the night before. They got in two cars and drove way.

 

What did that mean for Joe?

 

I sat in the dirt, stroking Muffy’s head. “You saved me, Muffy. Now I think we’ve gotta save Joe.” The only problem I saw with this plan was I didn’t know anything about saving anybody. I didn't even know where to go, let alone have a car to get there. But I did have a gun, even if I’d never shot one before.