Read Online Smells Like Dog by Suzanne Selfors - Free Book Online Page A

Thumbtack holes and faded rectangles were the only evidence that his beloved maps had once covered the now bare bedroom walls.
    The room echoed with emptiness, for Homer, unlike other boys his age, did not collect rocks, or slingshots, or trophies. No kite hung from the curtain rod, no skateboard stood in the corner, no squirt gun sat on the windowsill, ready in case an unsuspecting sister walked by. Everything he cherished had something to do with treasure hunting—his rusty trowel, his collection of plastic mummies, his Holy Grail replica—and now they were gone. Only his bed, his clothes, and a desk covered in boring schoolbooks remained. Oh, and two items Homer had managed to hide—the Galileo Compass that hung beneath his shirt and the gold coin tucked in his pocket.
    Mrs. Pudding cracked open the bedroom door. “I thought you might like some company.” She opened the door wider and Dog ambled in. He circled a few times, then stretched across a pile of dirty clothes. Mrs. Pudding laid a half-eaten boot on Homer’s desk. “You’ll have to wear your old sneakers until we can get to Walker’s Department Store.”
    Homer turned away. He didn’t care about the stupid boot.
    “I know you think this is unfair,” his mother said softly. “But try to understand, Homer. Your father just wants you to stop spending so much time with your maps and books and instead, spend more time with everyone here in Milkydale.”
    “I don’t like Milkydale.” Homer folded his arms as tight as he could. “And no one in Milkydale likes me.”
    “I like you, Homer. I love you. And Squeak loves you, and your whole family loves you. But we worry about you.” She turned his swivel chair around and looked into his blue eyes. “Milkydale is your home. You must try to be a part of it.”
    “But Uncle Drake would want me to…”
    “Drake was a good uncle but he had some wild ideas. He wasn’t quite right in the head. Do you understand?”
    “Dad’s afraid that I’m not quite right in the head, isn’t he?”
    “He’s just trying to protect you. When you’re all grown up you can make your own choices. And maybe you’ll follow in your uncle’s footsteps.” She smiled tenderly. “But for now you must pay attention in school and help on the farm. And stop making up stories. Now get into your pajamas and go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Then she left, closing the door behind her.
    Homer didn’t feel like changing into his pajamas. He didn’t feel like paying attention in school or helping on the farm. There was only one thing he wanted to do, but there were no more coin books to search through.
    Moonlight drifted through the bedroom window, casting a soft glow about the room. Dog got up from the laundry pile and scratched at the side of the bed. Witha heave, Homer lifted him onto the quilt. Then they lay side by side. Dog’s stretched-out body reached to Homer’s knees. He pressed his wet nose against Homer’s cheek. His warm breath smelled like rubber boot but Homer didn’t mind. Dog knew what it felt like to be misunderstood. People thought he was stupid because he ate strange things, but it had nothing to do with lack of intelligence. People thought Homer was weird because he dreamed about strange things. But it had nothing to do with being “not right in the head.”
    Homer and Dog turned their sad faces toward the map-less ceiling. “They think I’m crazy,” Homer whispered, giving Dog a good scratch. “I know the cloud man was real and I think he wanted Uncle Drake’s coin. Tomorrow, Dad’s gonna call Mr. Silverstein at the library and then I won’t be able to do any research. How will I find out what
L.O.S.T.
stands for?”
    With a groan, Dog got up and ambled to the end of the bed. Then he slid off and stood in front of Homer’s bedroom door. “Urrrr.”
    “It’s too late to go out,” Homer said.
    Dog scratched at the door. “Urrrr.”
    “I said it’s too…” Homer sat up.