Read Online Smells Like Dog by Suzanne Selfors - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Selfors
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“Hey, that’s a good idea. I could go right now.” Half-excited, half-terrified, he tiptoed to the window. There was plenty of moonlight to see by. If he kept to the side of the road, the overhangingtree branches would hide him should anyone in a cloud fly by. Uncle Drake had said that nighttime was the very best time for a treasure hunter to move about.
“You’d better stay here,” he told Dog. “They don’t let dogs in the library.”
Dog cocked his head and watched as Homer put on a green corduroy jacket. Then Homer grabbed a flashlight from his desk drawer and his Swiss army knife, which his dad hadn’t confiscated because Mr. Pudding believed that every boy needs a Swiss army knife.
“Stay,” Homer said, opening the door.
“URRRR.”
“I’ll be right back. Stay.”
Dog threw back his head. “HOWOO—”
Homer clamped his hands around Dog’s muzzle. “Okay, okay, you can come.”
The Library at Midnight
S neaking out of an old farmhouse is not an easy feat, what with creaking floorboards and squeaking stairs lying in wait. Add Dog’s
click-clacking
toenails and it was some kind of a miracle that they managed to get out without waking the rest of the family.
Homer hesitated on the front porch. He’d never done anything like this before. His dad would explode if he found out. But something deeper than fear tugged at Homer—the need to be validated, to be understood. He’d prove to everyone that he had what it took to be atreasure hunter.
Take away my maps, take away my books, but I’m going to find out why Uncle Drake sent me this coin!
With a deep breath he started down the driveway, Dog at his heels. “Keep a lookout for clouds,” he whispered to Dog.
A moonlit sky, freckled with stars, stretched over the rolling hills. Despite the moonlight, most people would have stumbled, for night’s shadows can camouflage holes and ditches. But Homer was an expert at walking while reading, so it really didn’t matter whether he walked to town by sun or moon. Once down the driveway he clung to the edge of the road, listening for trucks. Except for rustling leaves and branches, the night was silent.
Homer nearly jumped out of his skin when Carlotta Crescent peeked out from behind her mailbox. “Whatcha doing, Homer?”
“Nothing,” he replied.
“What’s that?”
“My new dog.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dog.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“I dunno.”
Darn
it. Carlotta would probably tell Gwendolyn about his sneaking out, and Gwendolyn would most assuredly tell their parents.
“I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing out here inthe middle of the night,” Carlotta said. Her long hair was pulled back in a yellow ribbon that matched her yellow bathrobe and slippers. “Don’t you want to know what I’m doing?” She held up a pair of binoculars.
Homer shrugged. “I guess so.” He wanted to tell her that she was holding a pair of Extra Strong Borington Binoculars, designed by Sir Richard Borington, a famous treasure hunter who had preferred to conduct most of his quests from the comfort of his elephant’s velvet saddle. But that was the sort of information that always got him labeled
weird
.
“I’m doing a report on screech owls and my mom and dad said I can sit out here and watch for them, but only this one time since it’s a school night.” She yawned. “I haven’t seen any. Whatcha writing your report on?”
Had Mrs. Peepgrass assigned a report? “I gotta go,” he said, continuing down Grinning Goat Road.
“I’m bored,” Carlotta called after him. “Can I come with you?”
Other than Gwendolyn, Carlotta was the only kid at school who actually talked to Homer. For a second, he thought about inviting her along. It would be less scary to have someone to walk with, but Ajitabh had said he’d be back and that might put Carlotta in danger. Besides, Homer didn’t want anyone to know about the coin. Not yet.
“Can I come with you?” she asked
“You’d better stay here,” he told Dog. “They don’t let dogs in the library.”
Dog cocked his head and watched as Homer put on a green corduroy jacket. Then Homer grabbed a flashlight from his desk drawer and his Swiss army knife, which his dad hadn’t confiscated because Mr. Pudding believed that every boy needs a Swiss army knife.
“Stay,” Homer said, opening the door.
“URRRR.”
“I’ll be right back. Stay.”
Dog threw back his head. “HOWOO—”
Homer clamped his hands around Dog’s muzzle. “Okay, okay, you can come.”
The Library at Midnight
S neaking out of an old farmhouse is not an easy feat, what with creaking floorboards and squeaking stairs lying in wait. Add Dog’s
click-clacking
toenails and it was some kind of a miracle that they managed to get out without waking the rest of the family.
Homer hesitated on the front porch. He’d never done anything like this before. His dad would explode if he found out. But something deeper than fear tugged at Homer—the need to be validated, to be understood. He’d prove to everyone that he had what it took to be atreasure hunter.
Take away my maps, take away my books, but I’m going to find out why Uncle Drake sent me this coin!
With a deep breath he started down the driveway, Dog at his heels. “Keep a lookout for clouds,” he whispered to Dog.
A moonlit sky, freckled with stars, stretched over the rolling hills. Despite the moonlight, most people would have stumbled, for night’s shadows can camouflage holes and ditches. But Homer was an expert at walking while reading, so it really didn’t matter whether he walked to town by sun or moon. Once down the driveway he clung to the edge of the road, listening for trucks. Except for rustling leaves and branches, the night was silent.
Homer nearly jumped out of his skin when Carlotta Crescent peeked out from behind her mailbox. “Whatcha doing, Homer?”
“Nothing,” he replied.
“What’s that?”
“My new dog.”
“What’s his name?”
“Dog.”
“What kind of name is that?”
“I dunno.”
Darn
it. Carlotta would probably tell Gwendolyn about his sneaking out, and Gwendolyn would most assuredly tell their parents.
“I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing out here inthe middle of the night,” Carlotta said. Her long hair was pulled back in a yellow ribbon that matched her yellow bathrobe and slippers. “Don’t you want to know what I’m doing?” She held up a pair of binoculars.
Homer shrugged. “I guess so.” He wanted to tell her that she was holding a pair of Extra Strong Borington Binoculars, designed by Sir Richard Borington, a famous treasure hunter who had preferred to conduct most of his quests from the comfort of his elephant’s velvet saddle. But that was the sort of information that always got him labeled
weird
.
“I’m doing a report on screech owls and my mom and dad said I can sit out here and watch for them, but only this one time since it’s a school night.” She yawned. “I haven’t seen any. Whatcha writing your report on?”
Had Mrs. Peepgrass assigned a report? “I gotta go,” he said, continuing down Grinning Goat Road.
“I’m bored,” Carlotta called after him. “Can I come with you?”
Other than Gwendolyn, Carlotta was the only kid at school who actually talked to Homer. For a second, he thought about inviting her along. It would be less scary to have someone to walk with, but Ajitabh had said he’d be back and that might put Carlotta in danger. Besides, Homer didn’t want anyone to know about the coin. Not yet.
“Can I come with you?” she asked
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