Puppy Ciao
By Annette O'Hare
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CHAPTER ONE
I pulled into an empty parking space in front of
Holman Meat Market.
Bam!
My four-wheeler tires hit the concrete curb. My
friend’s head whipped back like he had a rubber band for
a neck. If he didn’t comment on my driving, I’d call his
restraint a miracle.
Jonathan Wooten removed his helmet and slung his
hair to the side. “Nice job, Jeannie.” He smiled. “Why are
we stopping here?”
I climbed out, placing my helmet in the back seat. “I
thought we’d go to the creek to eat, you know—snacks?”
Jonathan followed me inside the market. I walked to
the counter where Mr. Holman’s son, Chris, stood. “Hey,
Jeannie, what can I do for you?”
Chris’s face would make hearts oat out of a cartoon
character’s head. When he wasn’t working, I’d seen Chris
driving his boat on the creek. His tanned skin, blond hair,
and blue eyes reminded me of a cool California surfer. But
I couldn’t date a seventeen-year-old. I couldn’t date anyone.
Besides, every time I saw him here, he wore a disgusting
bloodstained apron when he cut meat. Sickening.
“Hi, Chris.” Why did my voice sound like a lovesick
fool? “Can I get some beef jerky, please?”
“Sure thing, kiddo. What’ll you have? Regular, spicy,
or Cajun?”
I tilted my head and smiled. “I think I’ll have spicy
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today.” Good grief, what was wrong with me?
When Chris turned to ll my order, Jonathan nudged
me. His brows pitched little tents above his eyes. He whispered
and shook his head, “Flirting … really?”
I drew circles on the counter with my nger, so I didn’t
have to look at him. “I don’t know what’s going on with
me. Every time I see Chris, my stomach does cartwheels.” I
needed a distraction. “Jonathan, you want some jerky?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled them
wrong side out before shrugging. “Got no money.”
“Don’t worry. We can share.”
He half-smiled and nodded. “anks.”
I didn’t know what else to say. My life seemed easy
compared to Jonathan’s. Even if my parents weren’t rich, they
had enough money to buy me an ATV to drive around the
thriving metropolis of Kerrville, Texas. riving metropolis—
yeah right.
My dad had a good job, and my folks only had me.
Jonathan’s father, the minister of our small country church,
had three kids with his wife, Sherry. ey considered most
everything—beyond clothes, groceries, and an occasional
fast food meal—a luxury.
Jonathan leaned back against the counter and ran his
ngers through his hair. I think Jonathan hated never having
money, hitching rides, and living as a preacher’s kid. Poor
guy. And something bothered him.
Without another word, I put a bag of candy on the
counter beside the jerky, paid, and left. We put our helmets
on and I backed the ATV from the lot and took o. e
sooner we arrived at the special place on the creek, the better.
We needed to talk.
Vacationers tube and kayak the beautiful Guadalupe
River snaking through our town. Johnson Creek, on the
outskirts, is a major tributary to the Guadalupe—or so my
dad, the geophysicist, says. I only know our private creek is a
great place to play or relax.
We bumped from side to side as I pulled into the large
grove of live oaks beside the creek. I stopped beneath a shady
tree, turned o the engine, and we unsnapped our helmets.
Jonathan left the ATV and walked toward the creek.
I knew something bothered him, so I grabbed the crumpled
brown bag of jerky and candy and followed after him. Getting
him to talk would take a lot of snacks.
We’d hung out together almost every day since the
middle of second grade. Now, Jonathan’s fourteen and I’m
thirteen. We’ve practically grown up together.
I followed Jonathan to the water’s edge. He skipped
a smooth rock across the creek water before his stone
disappeared beneath. Impressive. I collected a rock for
myself, held my hand exactly as he had, and tossed the way
he had. Like every other time I tried, my smooth pebble hit
the water and made a loud plopping splash before sinking
into the abyss.
“e creek sure is high for this time of year.” Jonathan
ipped his hair to the side—a new habit he’d developed.
I scrunched my nose up at Jonathan as I walked over
to sit beneath the big cypress. e huge tree seemed out of
place. ose knobby roots rambled to the water’s edge, and
the branches stretched out across the bank of the creek. One
time, Jonathan and I stood on either side and stretched our
arms out around the trunk. Our ngers didn’t come close to
touching.
“Come over here and sit down.” I patted the ground,
but he paid no attention. He gazed at one of the natural
waterfalls along the creek. I didn’t blame him. e afternoon
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sky cast an array of sparkling sunbeams dancing across the
water.
Finally, he pulled himself away and plopped down
beside me.
“You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on
with you?” I held up the brown bag and shook the contents
in front of Jonathan’s face. “Chocolate?”
He shoved his hand inside the twisted opening and
pulled out the sack of candy-coated pieces. “I guess you think
this will help me open up, huh?”
“Candy has never failed me in the past.”
Jonathan ripped open the bag and poured candy in his
hand before tossing one in the air. He caught the chocolatey
morsel in his mouth and wiggled his eyebrows. “Pretty good,
don’t you think?”
I knew what he was doing. “Stop trying to distract me.
Answer my question.”
Jonathan’s brow furrowed. He dipped his head
sideways and stared at me. “Did you cut your hair?”
I tucked some hair behind my ear and scowled. “Quit
avoiding the subject.” I reached for the candy, feeling the
sudden need for chocolate myself.
Jonathan shoved his hand into the bag as soon as mine
came out. “I don’t know. I guess … summer’s coming … and
I can’t believe we only have less than a week of school.”
“I know what you mean.” e sun warmed the top of
my head and reminded me of summer’s quick approach.
Jonathan handed me the bag. Empty. Completely
empty.
He ipped his hair. “Yeah. My dad is seriously pushing
me to get a summer job. If I don’t, I’ll get stuck at the church
working for him—for nothing.”
I crumpled the candy bag into a ball. “At least you can
get a real job since you’re already fourteen. My dad wants me
to hang out with him at his company in Fredericksburg.”
Jonathan faced me. His mouth hung open. “How
awesome for you. I would do anything to work with your
dad.”
“You’re kidding, right? My dad works at nerd central.
I can’t imagine spending my whole summer in a lab. Besides,
I don’t speak geek.”
“Jeannie, you’re so spoiled, and you don’t give your
dad enough credit. Scientists do really awesome work.”
I frowned. He never gave his father enough credit.
Everyone at church bragged about how great Jonathan’s dad
preached. But for the sake of peace, I skipped the argument—
at least for now anyway.
“I guess geophysics is okay, but I have bigger plans for
my life.” I put my hand on top of one of the short, knotty
cypress roots, using the tree to push myself o the ground.
“Yeah, I understand. So, tell me, what do you want to
do with your life?” He followed me as I strolled toward the
water.
“I know what I want to do this summer. e question
is whether or not I can get a job since I’m only thirteen.” My
eyebrows rose and my jaw dropped open. “Hey, if I can’t get
a job, maybe I can volunteer.”
I peered Jonathan’s way. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”
“I’m sorry, Jeannie.” He stared at the falls about
twenty-ve feet away. “I think I see something in the water.”
“See what?”
“In the overow.” He pointed. “Looks like something
is caught up in those branches.”
“Yeah, looks like someone threw a bag of garbage in
the creek.” Why would anyone want to trash our beautiful creek?
Before I could protest, Jonathan’s shoes landed on the
bank. He rolled up his jeans to his knees and stepped into
the water. “Come on, Jeannie, you don’t want our creek full
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of trash, do you?”
“Wait up. I’m coming with you.”
I bent over, grabbed my pant legs, and pulled them
up to my knees. “Oh great.” I hadn’t shaved my legs since
Spring Break. Wading through chilly Johnson Creek water
to retrieve a bag of garbage wasn’t my idea of a good time.
Especially not with my hairy legs exposed to Jonathan and all
creation, but I was curious to see what was in the bag.
“I never thought of you as an environmentalist,
Jonathan.” I shouted from behind him so he could hear me
over the waterfall. “If you really want to make a dierence,
you should seriously think about cleaning up the Guadalupe
River after the tourists come through on Memorial Day
weekend.”
Jonathan didn’t respond.
“Are you listening to me?”
Still no reply. I continued following him through the
toe-numbing water.
“e litter is not a garbage bag.” He glanced over his
shoulder as we approached. “Looks like a dog food bag.”
I tried to see the rubbish trapped in the branches
beneath the waterfall. Strange. Who puts their garbage in
a dog food bag, ties the thing, and throws the bag into the
creek?
Jonathan moved closer. I tried to keep up with him,
but walking quickly and quietly in a creek wasn’t easy.
Jonathan grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “Do
you hear a noise?”
We stood less than ve feet away from the bag. My
eyes were at least twice their normal size as I gawked and
nodded. “Yes, something is alive inside the bag.”