they’d open the windows to let in the fragrances.
“Settle down, class,” said the teacher.
The door to the classroom suddenly opened and a man and a woman came inside, both of them wet. “We’ve lost Geoffrey Hicks,” the man said. I picked up the tension in his voice and regarded the two of them alertly. The alarm coming off the two people was familiar, an emotion I’d encountered several times when I was doing work. “He’s a first grader,” the man told Maya.
The children all started talking. “Quiet!” the teacher snapped.
“They were playing hide-and-seek when the rain started,” the woman said. “The storm just came up out of nowhere; one minute it was fine, the next . . .” She put her hands to her eyes, which were suddenly full of tears. “When I had everyone come in, Geoffrey wasn’t with them. It was his turn to hide.”
“Could the dog . . . ,” the man asked.
Maya looked at me, and I sat up straighter. “You’d better call 911,” she said. “Ellie hasn’t worked search and rescue in seven or eight years.”
“Won’t the rain wash away the scent? It’s really coming down out there,” the woman asked. “I’m worried that by the time another dog got here—”
Maya bit her lip. “We will certainly help look. You need to call the police, though. Where do you think he might have gone?”
“There are some woods behind the playground. There’s a fence, but the kids can lift it up,” the man said.
“This is his backpack; will that help?” the woman asked, holding out a canvas bag.
I felt Maya’s nervous excitement as we ran down the hallway. We stopped at the door, and a sense of defeat came over her. “Look at it rain,” she muttered. “Okay. Ellie?” She lowered her face down to mine. “Ellie, you ready, girl? Here, smell this.”
I took a deep whiff of the canvas bag. I could smell peanut butter, chocolate, crayons, and a person. “Geoffrey, Geoffrey,” Maya said. “Okay?” She opened the door and the rain whipped into the hallway. “Find!”
I leaped out into the rain. In front of me was a wide expanse of wet pavement, and I coursed back and forth, my nails clicking. I could faintly smell many children, though the rain was beating the scents down. Maya was out, running away from the school. “Here, Ellie, Find here!”
We tracked all the way back to the fence: nothing. Maya felt frustrated and frightened as she sloshed through the wet ground. We found a section of fence that was bent back, but I could find nothing to alert on. “Okay, if he’s in there, you’d smell him, girl, right? Geoffrey!” she shouted. “Geoffrey, come on out; it’s all right!”
We hugged the fence heading back to the school, sticking to the other side of the yard. A police car pulled up, lights flashing, and Maya jogged over to speak to the man driving.
I continued to Find Geoffrey. Though I wasn’t picking up much of anything, I knew if I just concentrated, as I had been trained, if I just focused, I could separate the smell from the backpack from all the others, if I didn’t quit . . .
There. I had something, and whipped my head around. There was a small gap in the fence, two poles between which no adult person could climb, but I could smell Geoffrey—he’d squeezed through here. He had left the playground.
I ran back to Maya and alerted. She was speaking to the policeman and didn’t notice at first, but then she turned to me, shocked. “Ellie? Show me!”
We ran back through the rain to the two poles. Maya peered through the small gap. “Come on!” she shouted, running along the fence toward the front of the school. “He left the school grounds! He’s on the other side of the fence!” she yelled at the policeman. He ran after us.
From the other side of the fence I could smell Geoffrey at the two poles, and from there I could track which direction he’d headed. Yes, he had gone this way!
Abruptly the scent faded. Just two steps on the route he’d taken and I’d lost all sign of him, though it had been so strong there for a second.
“What is it?” the policeman asked.
“He might have gotten into a car,” Maya said. The policeman groaned.
I dropped my nose, and that’s when I picked it up again. I reversed direction, and the scent got stronger. In the street, water rushed down in a steady stream by the curb, gurgling into a storm drain. I shoved my snout into the gap, ignoring the smells carried into the drain by the rushing water, and concentrated on my nose. If I wanted to, I could wriggle through that gap and into the loud, wet drain, but there was no need to—I could smell Geoffrey now; he was right in front of me even though I couldn’t see him in the darkness.
I looked up at Maya.
“My God, he’s in there; he’s in the sewer!” Maya shouted.
The policeman popped on a flashlight and beamed it into the storm drain. We all saw it at the same time: the pale face of a frightened little boy.
{ TWENTY-FIVE }
Geoffrey! It’s okay; we’re going to get you out of there!” Maya yelled at him. Heedless of the water, she knelt in the street, straining to reach the boy. The water had pressed him back away from the small opening, and he was clinging to the far wall, the terror coming off him so strong it was blinding. Right behind Geoffrey, a black tunnel sucked in the rainwater with a loud roar. Grunting, Maya pushed in as far as she could, but she couldn’t reach the boy.
“How did he get in there?” the policeman shouted.
“It’s a tight fit; he must have squeezed in before it started raining. God, it’s really coming down!” Maya’s voice
