The Boy Who Ate Dog Biscuits

1
    

“Billy! Don’t forget your bed.”

“Mom!” Billy Getten called back to his mother. “Cleaning my room doesn’t make sense. It only gets messy again.”

Billy pulled his torn pants from under the bed. Where would he hide them? He didn’t want his mother to find out he’d ruined his new clothes.

A yellow dog biscuit fell out of the pants pocket. It was covered with lint. Bright green clay was stuck to one end.

Billy picked the fuzzy lint off and most of the clay. He took a small bite. Chicken flavor was his favorite.

Billy took another bite. Then he put the
other half in his hip pocket. He wanted to save some for later.

He dug his schoolbag out of the closet and stuffed the torn pants into it. His mother would never think of looking there now that it was summer.

“Mom!” Billy called. He straightened up his bed. “I’m done.”

Billy pulled on a faded blue T-shirt and brushed back his straight brown hair. He grabbed his baseball cap from the top of the dresser. In the mirror he made sure the cap was on backward.

“Looks better,” Billy’s mother said from the doorway.

Billy shut his closet door quickly. “Can I go out now?”

“I want you to come hold Sarah while I make her bed.”

“Do I have to?”

“Of course.”

“But Howard’s waiting.”

“Tell him to come in, then.”

“And see me holding a baby!”

“I’m sure he holds his brother.”

No way, Billy thought. Howard would never.

Billy turned to the window. “Five minutes,” he shouted.

“Billy, please!” Mrs. Getten picked up a pile of clothing off the floor.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m coming.”

He followed his mother down the hall. The baby’s room was white, with little pink flowers all over the walls. In the crib his baby sister was playing with a red plastic ring.

“Sit in the rocker,” Mrs. Getten said. Then she put Sarah in Billy’s lap.

Billy looked at his sister. She had dark red hair just like his mother’s, but her face was all bunched up. “I thought babies were supposed to be cute. How come she looks like an old monkey?”

“She is cute,” Mrs. Getten said. “She looks like Grandpa Stewie.”

Billy’s mother shook out the clean pink sheets. She began to make up the crib.

“Goo, goo,” said Sarah. She snuggled against Billy’s chest.

“She doesn’t do anything,” Billy said, “but sleep and poop.”

“Ha!” said his mother. “Come feed her sometime.”

“That’s boring too.”

“Hardly.”

“I can’t do stuff with her like I could with a dog. You know I’ve been praying for a dog for a long time. Even before Sarah was born!”

Billy’s mother said, “Sometimes it takes a while for prayers to be answered. And it doesn’t always happen the way you expect.”

Billy wasn’t sure what his mother meant. All he knew was that he prayed for a dog, but a baby came instead.

Mrs. Getten put Sarah back in her crib. “Nana and Grandpa won’t find anything strange in your room when they stay over, will they?”

“No, Mom. Can I go out now?” Billy inched toward the bedroom door.

“Well, all right. Just don’t let the screen door slam.” Mrs. Getten eased the crib bars up on Sarah’s bed. “I think she’s finally going to take a nap.”

Billy didn’t really hear his mother. He was already heading for the stairs.

He crashed through the kitchen. He jumped from the top of the porch. The screen door slammed, but Billy didn’t notice. He was already down the driveway.

2
  

Howard Rosa sat on the stone wall at the end of Billy’s driveway. The backs of his red high tops banged against the wall. His laces were untied. “What took you so long?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing? I’ve been waiting all morning.” Howard’s mother let him spike his hair. He peered at Billy through yellow sunglasses.

Billy could see himself in the lenses. “My grandparents are coming for my birthday. I had to pick up my room.”

Howard shook his head. “Bor-ing.”

“Tell me about it. My birthday isn’t till next Sunday. And I
still
had to clean.” Billy sat
down on the stone wall. “Did you get the thing?”

Howard pulled a small black box out of his back pocket. It was an electric garage-door opener from his house.

Howard smiled at Billy. Billy smiled back.

“Let’s go to my house.” Howard slid off the wall.

They cut through a neighbor’s side yard over to the next street. None of the other kids were around. It was very quiet.

“So what do you want to do with it?” Billy kicked a stone ahead of him as he walked.

“See how far away from the garage I can get and still make it go.”

They hid behind the bushes across the street from Howard’s house. Howard pushed the button on the black box.

At the top of the Rosas’ driveway, the garage door groaned and shook. Slowly it lifted and stayed up.

“Aw-right!” Howard punched Billy’s arm.

“Ouch.” Billy rubbed his skin. He hated when Howard did that.

“Now, listen,” said Howard. “I’m going down
to the Breens’ house. You stand on the sidewalk and signal with your arms. Okay?”

“When do I get to do it?”

“It’s mine. I go first.” Howard stood up. He straightened his sunglasses.

“Boy,” Billy muttered. He watched as Howard ran down the block as far as Chrissy Breen’s house. Chrissy was going into third grade with Billy and Howard.

The garage door rattled down and up and then down again. Billy raised his arms as a signal to Howard.

Howard ran toward a mailbox that was five houses away.

The garage door rattled up and down. Billy signaled again.

When Howard was nine houses away, Howard’s little brother, Frankie, came toddling across the driveway. He was on his way to the sandbox under the trees. The door went up. Frankie dropped his doll and stood watching.

Howard came running back. “Hey!” he shouted. “You’re supposed to signal, dummy!”

Billy pointed toward the driveway. “Do it
again and watch your brother.”

Howard pressed the garage-door opener. The door went up. Frankie’s head went up.

Then the door came down. Frankie’s head did too.

Billy and Howard started laughing. They stopped when they saw Frankie step on the bottom handle of the garage door and grab the lock. They ran up the driveway.

“Ride me,” said Frankie. He gave Howard and Billy a grape-jelly smile.