Maggie and Max (2 page)

Ohh, noo! How did I get all the way up
heeeere?
Save meee, save meee!

Max started mewing his heart out. Before any of the people in the room could move, Maggie jumped up, ran over to the tree, and put her paws on the bottom branches. The tree swayed this way and that, but it did not topple over. Maggie barked encouragingly as Max slowly clambered down.

That’s it, that’s it, little pal! Just one more branch and you’re safe! Here, I’ll make you a good target. Aim for that black spot on my back!

Finally, the kitten jumped off a lower branch, right onto his friend’s broad back.

“Awesome!” Lizzie cried. She clapped her hands. “Did you guys know that Saint Bernard dogs are legendary rescuers? That’s what they were trained to do, back in the mountains in Switzerland. When people got lost in a blizzard, Saint Bernards were sent out to find them.”

Lizzie knew
everything
about dogs.

“Well, Maggie sure is living up to her heritage,” Dad said.

Maggie and Max paraded proudly around the room several times before Max jumped off Maggie’s back and began to scamper around on his own again. He dashed under the couch, then popped out and circled the Christmas tree three times. Then he flipped onto his back and started to swat at a low-hanging Christmas ornament.

Everybody laughed. Max certainly was a funny little guy.

Maggie watched calmly, woofing while the others laughed.

“He sure seems comfortable now!” said Dad, running over to rescue the glass ball.

“What a darling.” Mom’s voice was dreamy.

Charles and Lizzie looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Mom sure was in love with that kitten!

Over the next few days,
everyone
fell in love. Max was a little shy around Buddy at first, but soon both puppies and the kitten learned to play together. Charles loved to watch them tumble and chase. If only the Petersons could keep Max and Maggie forever! But Charles knew that was not going to happen. The Petersons were just a foster family for these two. They couldn’t keep every animal that they took care of! The kitten and the puppy needed good homes, and Charles’s job was to help find them.

There was only one problem. Ms. Dobbins had
been right: Maggie and Max did not like to be separated. If they were even in different rooms, Max would mew and mew, and Maggie would get very worried until she found him. “They’re just a little frightened,” Mom said. “I’m sure that if we give them enough love and attention, they will do fine on their own in their new homes.” Like everybody else in the family, she knew it was not very likely that anybody would be willing to adopt a kitten
and
a puppy at the same time. Maggie and Max were going to have to learn to live without each other.

Charles couldn’t wait to show off his new foster friends. He boasted about them at school. He invited Sammy over to meet them. And he told his Grandbuddy, Mrs. Peabody, all about Maggie and Max. Mrs. Peabody loved hearing about them, because she had once had a Saint Bernard of her own.

Charles wished his Scout friends could meet Maggie and Max, but there would be no den
meetings for the next few weeks. Instead, the Scouts would be helping out at the Nest.

Mr. Baker came by the Petersons’ house on Tuesday after supper to make sure that everything was set for the Scouts’ visit to the Nest the next night. Charles was happy to introduce Maggie and Max.

“My, my!” Mr. Baker’s eyes lit up when he saw the big puppy and her tiny playmate. “Aren’t they something!” He sat right down on the floor and scooped Maggie into his arms. Right away, Maggie licked his face.

You’re a very, very nice man. Want to be my friend?

Max used his sharp little claws to climb up Mr. Baker’s knee and demand some attention, too.

Meee! Meee! Play with meee!

Mr. Baker laughed his deep, loud laugh. “What a pair!”

“They’re available!” Lizzie said.

“Wouldn’t you like to adopt them?” Charles asked. He thought Mr. Baker would make a fine pet owner. He obviously loved cats and dogs.

“I sure would,” said Mr. Baker. “I miss having a cat. We had one who lived at the shelter, a big orange one with the greenest eyes you ever saw. Esmerelda. But one of our families fell in love with her, and I let them take her when they left to move into their new home.”

“So?” Charles said. “That means you need a cat!”

“Maybe.” Max was pushing his little head up against Mr. Baker’s chin, which made him laugh again. “But a cat is one thing. A pesky kitten
plus
a gigantic puppy is another thing altogether. I’m very busy at the shelter, and I just don’t have enough time to take responsibility for two animals.” He thought for a moment. “Know what, though?”

Charles came over to pet Maggie. “What?”

“Maybe they could visit when you come to help out tomorrow night. We have a recreation room at the Nest where all the kids hang out. They run down there as soon as they’re excused from dinner, while their parents are still eating. We don’t have a TV — can’t afford one, don’t want one, anyway — and sometimes the kids get bored with doing puzzles and playing checkers.”

“They wouldn’t be bored with Maggie and Max around!” said Charles. “That’s for sure.”

“Well,” Mom said, “that sounds wonderful. But we’ll all be busy serving dinner in the dining room, won’t we? Who would watch the pets?”

“No problem, Mom!” Lizzie spoke up. “I’ll come along and keep an eye on Maggie and Max.” Lizzie would do anything to help the Petersons’ foster animals.

“So it’s settled!” Mr. Baker was beaming. “We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“’Twas the night before Christmas,” Sammy began, “and all through the house —”

“Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse!” Charles jumped right in with the next line. He knew
that
one for sure.

Charles had come up with the brilliant idea of memorizing “The Night Before Christmas” to perform at the Nest on Christmas Eve. It was a classic poem — everybody had heard it a million times. Memorizing it would be a breeze! Especially if he and Sammy did it together, taking turns on each line. That way, Charles would only have to memorize
half
the poem! Even better, he’d really only have to
perform
half of it.
And instead of being alone onstage, he’d be with his best friend. The whole ordeal would be over in five minutes.

They were practicing in the Petersons’ van, on the way over to the Nest. It was Wednesday, time for the Scouts’ first visit to help out with dinner. Charles was a little nervous about meeting a whole bunch of new people. At least he wouldn’t have to recite any poems
tonight.

Dad was driving the van. Following them in the Petersons’ red pickup truck were Mom, Lizzie, Maggie, and Max. The Bean was home with Steffi, his favorite babysitter, who always brought him “dog biscuits” (really bone-shaped oatmeal cookies) for a treat.

Charles knew that the kids at the Nest were going to love meeting the cuddly puppy and the funny little kitten. He was almost a little bit jealous, thinking about other kids getting to play with his foster pets. But he and Mom had talked
about it a lot: how happy it would make the kids at the shelter, how Maggie and Max would enjoy meeting some new people, how it was good for the animals to get used to new places. Charles knew that was all true. Still, in a way, he was glad that he would be busy serving and cleaning up dinner so that he wouldn’t have to
watch
Maggie lick some other kid’s cheek, or see Max climb up onto someone else’s shoulders.

Charles felt something jab into his ribs. It was Sammy’s elbow. “Come on, Charles!” Sammy said. “Do your line!” He repeated his own. “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. . . .”

“Hoping that Santa would come —” Charles had totally forgotten how it went. “Through the air?” he asked, scratching his head.

Sammy shook his head with disgust. “With hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there!” he proclaimed.

“Oh. Right.” Charles was beginning to realize that he actually did not like this poem so much.
Who went around calling Santa Claus “Saint Nicholas,” for one thing? Dumb. “Well, we’re here!” he said, changing the subject. Dad had just pulled up in front of a big yellow house — big enough to fit
two
of the Petersons’ houses inside. A wooden sign near the front door said:
WELCOME TO THE NEST
. The porch was decorated with Christmas lights and a big wreath.

Before Charles could even knock on the door, it opened wide. There was Mr. Baker, smiling down at the Scouts and laughing his big laugh as he bellowed, “Welcome, welcome!” and waved them all inside. Charles couldn’t help noticing that Mr. Baker’s big tummy kind of jiggled when he laughed. “Like a bowl full of jelly,” Charles observed, remembering a scrap of the poem he was trying to learn.
That’s
who Mr. Baker reminded him of: Santa Claus! Of course!

“You’re just in time!” Mr. Baker said as the scouts came in. “The meatballs are simmering,
the spaghetti is nearly done, and my homemade garlic bread is in the oven.”

Charles took a big sniff. Sure enough, his mouth started to water. The smell of tomato sauce always made him hungry.

“Ah! And here are our furry friends.” Mr. Baker smiled and waved at Mom and Lizzie, who were coming up the walk. Mom was carrying Max, all wrapped up in her favorite red wool scarf, and Maggie padded along next to Lizzie, showing off how well she walked on a leash. Mr. Baker laughed some more and clapped his hands. “Wonderful!” he crowed. “These two are going to be a huge hit.” Mr. Baker turned to a gray-haired woman who was sitting at the reception desk just inside. “Miranda, will you show Lizzie and her animal friends to the rec room?”

“Gladly!” said Miranda. “Aren’t they adorable? I just love cats, but unfortunately I can’t live with one because I’m allergic.”

Charles wanted to give Maggie and Max one
last pat, but before he knew it, Miranda had swept Lizzie, Max, and Maggie down the hall, talking all the time.

Mr. Baker gave the Scouts a quick tour of the Nest. “These are our offices, and here’s the homework room, and here’s the storage area where we keep extra clothing and blankets and other things that some families need when they come to stay with us.” He pointed down a long hallway. “And down that way are the rooms where the families sleep and live, and down here,” he said, leading the way down another hall, “is where we all have dinner!” He threw open two big doors and Charles saw a big dining room, more like a restaurant than a cafeteria. The tomato sauce smell was stronger than ever. People were already sitting at the tables: moms and dads and kids of all ages. Mr. Baker waved to the families as he led the Scouts back into the kitchen. “Come meet the guy in charge of all this,” he said. He approached a man stirring a huge pot of sauce.

“Here are your helpers for tonight!” he announced. “Scouts, meet Danny. Danny, meet the Scouts.”

“Excellent! I can always use some good help.” Danny gave the Scouts a big smile. “Welcome aboard.”

Charles liked Danny right away. He looked like a basketball player, tall and skinny and strong.

Danny tossed each Cub Scout a white paper chef’s hat like his own. “All right, gentlemen,” he said. “It’s time to man your stations!”

Charles thought it would be cool to be on the other side of the cafeteria line. At school he slid his tray along and the lunch helpers served him. Now
he
was going to be the server. Each Scout would be dishing out a different part of the meal. Charles was excited when Danny assigned him and Sammy to the best spot of all: the meatball station! “I’m glad it’s not the green beans,” Sammy whispered. “I
hate
green beans.”

Charles liked green beans okay, but he definitely
liked meatballs better. He was realizing that he should have eaten dinner before he came. The delicious smells were making him so hungry he could hardly stand it.

But he forgot all about being hungry once he started serving. “Two meatballs to a customer for starters,” Danny had directed. “We might have enough for seconds, but we won’t know until everyone’s been served.”

It felt good to be serving people food. Charles noticed that everybody smiled when they saw the meatballs. When he or Sammy carefully balanced two of them on top of the mound of spaghetti and sauce that the Scouts before them had served, people said “thank you” like they really
meant
it. Only one person didn’t want any meatballs. “I’m a vegetarian,” said a girl about Charles’s age. “I don’t eat any meat. But thanks, anyway.” Charles split her meatballs between the girl’s mom and her little brother.

Finally, everybody had been served. The dining
room was full of the sound of clinking forks and happy conversation. Charles noticed that several children had finished quickly, asked to be excused, and left the room. He could guess where
they
were headed.

“Bet those animals are getting lots of attention and love already!” Danny appeared behind Charles with another pan of meatballs. It was as if he was reading Charles’s mind. “I heard about the kitten and puppy you brought to visit. Can’t wait to meet them myself! Sure wish
I
could adopt a dog, but they don’t allow pets where I live.”

Fifteen minutes later, after Charles and Sammy had served a few latecomers, Danny came over again. “Good job, guys!” he said. “I bet you’re ready for some dinner yourselves. Go ahead and grab some chow. I’ll join you in the dining room in a minute.”

Charles had just dug his fork into the biggest, juiciest, yummiest-looking meatball he’d ever seen, when Lizzie appeared at the door of the
dining room. Charles saw that Maggie was with her, but where was Max? A little boy, the brother of that vegetarian girl, was helping to hold Maggie’s leash. Maggie was whining and Charles thought she looked — well,
worried
was the only word for it.

“Mom! Dad!” Lizzie called. “Max is missing!”

“Missing?” When Mom jumped up, her chair screeched back from the table. The whole dining room went quiet. Everybody was staring at the door, toward Lizzie and Maggie and the little boy.

“It’s okay!” Dad jumped up, too. “Don’t worry. Maggie will find him!”

Charles wasn’t sure who Dad was talking to: Lizzie, or the rest of the people in the dining room. But it seemed to help. Lizzie nodded and tried to smile, and the diners went back to their spaghetti and conversation.

All but Charles and Sammy. After one wistful look at his meatballs, Charles got up and headed for the door, with his best friend right behind him. If Max was lost, they had to help find him, no
matter
how
hungry they might be. After all, he was only a little tiny kitten.

“Where did you see him last?” Mom was asking Lizzie questions as the search party — Mom, Dad, Charles, Sammy, the little boy, and, of course Maggie — hurried down the hall, back toward the recreation room. “Which way do you think he went? Have you tried letting Maggie search for him?”

“Actually,” the little boy said, in a very serious voice, “we weren’t paying much attention to him for a few minutes. Lizzie was demonstrating how to teach Maggie to shake hands.”

Mom smiled at the boy. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Actually, it’s Evan.”

Evan was very young — maybe five years old. But when he talked he seemed older. Charles thought he had a pretty good vocabulary for a kindergartner. He smiled at Evan, but Evan didn’t smile back. Instead, he bit his lip as if he
was about to cry. “Don’t worry,” Charles told Evan. “We’ll find Max.”

Just then, Mr. Baker bustled up. “I hear one of our guests has gone missing.” He wasn’t laughing, for a change.

Evan nodded. “Max ran away! We have to find him. He’s the best kitten ever. Actually, I
love
Max! He’s so entertaining!”

“Well, now.” Mr. Baker knelt down to look into Evan’s eyes. “I doubt anybody let him outside, and the Nest isn’t
that
big. Don’t worry, Evan. I’m sure we can find him.” He stood up and shook his head. “Poor little guy. Hope he’s not scared. Funny — I was just thinking that perhaps we could adopt him here, after all. If he can be separated from his partner, that is!” He reached down and patted Maggie.

Evan’s face lit up when he heard that, and Lizzie and Charles grinned at each other. Excellent. Maybe they’d already found a home for one of their foster pets. Then they both lost their
smiles. Before they could think about finding Max a home, they had to
find
Max.

At that moment, Maggie stopped in her tracks. Her ears went up and her tail stuck straight out. She sniffed the air and cocked her head as if she were listening hard. Then she sniffed again. And she began to whine.

My friend! He’s nearby! I know that smell. I know that sound. Follow me! We have to find that little guy, right now!

Maggie pulled on her leash, dragging Lizzie along as she dashed down the hall, turned a corner, and galloped down another hall. She was barking and whining as she ran. Evan grabbed Charles’s hand and pulled him along. Everybody ran after Maggie. Then the big puppy skidded to a stop in front of a closed door, and everybody gathered around her.

“That’s my family’s room!” Evan told Charles.
“Where my mom and dad and my sisters and me sleep!”

Mr. Baker knocked on the door. Nobody answered. Maggie barked and whined some more.

He’s in there! My little friend is in there! Let us in! Let us in!

Mr. Baker knocked again. No answer. Everybody groaned.

“What’s going on?” asked a woman who had just come up behind Charles.

“Mom!” Evan said. “I think Max is in our room!”

Evan’s mom raised an eyebrow. But she didn’t ask any questions. She just stepped forward and unlocked the door. “I was just here, to get a sweater,” she was saying. “If there was a kitten in the room, wouldn’t I have seen him?”

Maggie pushed past her. The pup ran straight
over to a tall dresser against one wall. She jumped up, put both paws on the top drawer, and barked.

In here! In here! My friend is stuck inside! Somebody help!

Evan’s mom was staring at Maggie. “My goodness!” she said. “That’s the drawer I took my sweater out of. What’s going on here?” She pulled the drawer open — and Max leaped out! The tiny black kitten was meowing at the top of his little lungs.

It’s about tiiiime! It was dark in there! I was scaaaared!

“Max! Max!” Evan yelled. Maggie was already licking her little friend. Evan got down on the floor and hugged both animals at the same time.

Evan’s mom shook her head. “The kitten must have jumped in there when my back was turned.”

“Fortunately, Maggie knew just exactly where to find him,” Evan said. “Actually, she’s a hero.” Now Maggie was licking
his
face. Evan looked so happy, snuggling with the kitten and the puppy.

“She sure is,” Charles agreed. “That makes
two
rescues for Maggie.” He told Evan and his mom about how Maggie had helped Max get down from the Christmas tree.

While Evan patted Maggie some more, Charles looked around the room. There was a set of bunk beds along one wall, and a big bed, for Evan’s parents, against another. Two dressers, one comfy chair, and a small table filled the rest of the space.

Charles tried to imagine how it would feel to have lost his own house, and to have to live in one small room with his family. It would not be easy. But having a friendly animal to cuddle sure would make it feel more like home.