Read Online Nobody's Dog by Ria Voros - Free Book Online Page B

blip of a siren heads in the opposite direction a street over, but I automatically duck behind a tree. This is the training I need: street smarts. How to move around and not get caught. I’m so wrapped up in plans for making myself invincible that I don’t notice Chilko. He’s stopped. We’re at the edge of Victoria Park, which is just lawns and flowers and benches that old people sit on during the day. But tonight there’s something in there Chilko wants. His ears are at attention and his nose is sniffing overtime. I look into the shadows to see what he sees, but I realize what it is too late.
    â€œNo!” I shout, swiping at his tail, but he’s off — after a skunk.
    There’s the crash of dog into bush and the
pffsshhht
of skunk letting it go, and then the yelp of a husky in pain. J swears like a trucker and I wish I could rewind the last ten seconds and steer us clear of the park.
    The smell wafts over in a thick cloud and makes me feel like throwing up. I’ve never been this close to skunk spray before — and I guess neither has Chilko. He stumbles out of the bush, pawing his eyes. He whines and coughs. I walk backward and he walks toward me. This is one time I don’t want him anywhere near.
    Then I notice he’s foaming at the mouth. I look around. Will he need a vet? How am I supposed to get him there?
    â€œWhoa. That’s not cool,” a voice calls behind me.
    I spin around.
    It’s a stocky guy in a yellow hoodie and ripped jeans. “You got tomato juice?” he asks.
    I shake my head. “What does that do?” I gag on the words as I inhale more skunk stench. I have to run across the street, toward the guy, to get some fresh air. Chilko wheezes behind me, but stays where he is.
    Up close the guy looks familiar. He’s got shaggy hair under his hood. He holds his nose but doesn’t back away. “My cat got sprayed last year. You gotta wash them with tomato juice. It gets out the smell. Cans and cans of it. You got a bathtub?”
    I nod, still not daring to open my mouth and let the skunk air in. I can’t figure out where I know him from.
    â€œMaybe you should call someone to help get him home.” He points to Chilko, who’s pawing his face and trying to puke. “He looks in bad shape.”
    How did this happen so fast? I went from having the whole night to roam with him to having a skunk-sprayeddog that’s not mine, and nowhere to take him.
    â€œI can’t go home,” I say. “He’s … can
you
help me?” I stare at the guy, willing him to say yes. Does he go to my school?
    He blinks, surprised. “Whoa, man. I’m on my way home. You can’t take that dog inside — he’ll stink up the whole house.”
    â€œSo how am I supposed to get him into a bathtub?” I ask.
    â€œI don’t know — find an outside one?”
    â€œThat’s stupid — who has an outside bathtub?” I glare at him. What’s wrong with this guy?
    He shakes his head. “Look. I gave you some advice. I’m a nice guy. I gotta go home now. Call your mom or something.”
    â€œMy mom’s dead.” I watch his eyebrows rise into his shaggy hair. J put that one in my mouth. It works.
    â€œAw, man. I can get you the tomato juice, but I don’t have an outside bathtub, okay?” He glances at Chilko. “Look — he’s not wheezing so much. That’s good. Maybe he didn’t get a direct hit.”
    â€œI’m J.”
    â€œMason,” he says, slapping my hand. “How old are you, anyway?”
    I shrug. “Old enough.”
    He blinks. “Whatever, man. I work around the corner. Literally.” He points and starts walking.
    A light comes on in my head. I know where I’ve seen this guy before.
    Ten minutes later I’m standing in the back of Gerry’s Corner Store, where Mason works, surrounded by boxes and