He was mixing the batter when we came in. “Just in time,” he said as he poured batter onto the waffle iron and brought the lid down.
I told Dad all about Baxter as the batter puffed up under the lid, baking toasty brown. Dad forked the waffle onto a plate and handed it to TJ, who slathered on peanut butter, squeezed syrup on top, and dug in.
“It was so Fun! taking Baxter on a walk yesterday,” I said. “Wasn’t it, TJ?”
“Mmpfh.” His cheeks were too full to answer. He wandered over to turn on the TV. He and Dad were always watching crazy movies about spaceships fighting each other with all sorts of crazy equipment, like lasers and weird flashing torpedoes. TJ made the sound effects right along with the movie. It was even worse when he was eating waffles because his sound effects got sticky with syrup and splattered everywhere, so I sat as far away as possible.
Dad put a fresh waffle onto another plate and handed it to me. “Baxter sounds like quite a dog.”
“He is,” I agreed. “I can’t wait for you to meet him!”
I was full after a waffle and a half. But it took TJ forever to stop eating, and by then, I could hardly wait to see Baxter.
I clicked off the TV and dragged TJ home. “Can we go over and see if Professor Reese needs help with Baxter while she unpacks?” I asked Mom. “Our rooms are already clean.”
She looked up from her newspaper. “That’s a nice change. Sure.”
So I ran over to Professor Reese’s house with TJ shuffling after me.
When I rang the doorbell, Baxter started woofing. TJ must have thought it was the kind of woofing like, Go away, there’s an attack dog behind this door. He wouldn’t even come up the steps. But I knew it was the kind of woofing like, Yay, someone’s here, let’s see who it is.
Professor Reese opened the door. “I’m glad you’re here. I need your help. Come on in for a minute.” She walked back into the living room.
“OK!” I petted Baxter’s head as he looked up at me.
“You’re a good boy!”
I nodded, and he nodded back.
I turned to TJ. “Did you see that? Come closer and let him put his paws on your shoulders.”
“What are you, crazy?”
“After you see eye to eye, he’ll nod to you, too.” I turned to Baxter. “Right?”
I nodded, and he nodded back.
“He’s just doing what you do,” TJ said.
“No, he’s not! He understands me! Right, Baxter?”
We both nodded again.
TJ shrugged. “Whatever, Jordie.” Then he scooted behind me and into the house.
Professor Reese showed us the flyers she’d made with Baxter’s picture. They said, Free to a Good Home, only I realized they should say, Free to a REALLY Good Home. So we fixed them and then walked around the park, putting them up. We even put one up next to the basketball courts at the park, where Tyler from my class was shooting hoops (which is what he seemed to do in his spare time when he wasn’t getting in trouble with the teacher, which is what I mainly saw him do).
We put flyers up all over the neighborhood, and the whole time, I was not-so-secretly hoping that it wouldn’t work.
Because Baxter was perfect, and he was right next door. He was the closest thing to having my own dog I could have without having one, which I couldn’t.
When we got back, I said, “Would you like us to take care of Baxter while you set up your lab?”
“Why, yes,” Professor Reese said. “That would be very helpful.”
So we all trooped down to the basement.
There were desks and tables and shelves, all made out of gray metal. The file cabinets had drawers that screeched when you opened them.
I wasn’t sure how long TJ would stay, since technically we’d finished the walk and helping her in the lab was extra. But he discovered that in addition to two normal chairs, Professor Reese had a black rolling desk chair. He sat down and spun around. Fast.
“You’re going to barf up your peanut butter waffles,” I said.
“No, I’m not.” He kicked off with his feet to spin faster.
Professor Reese crawled around on the floor, running cables everywhere, hooking up all three computers to the big electronic console (with lights and buttons).
I started putting physics and math books on the shelves, keeping Baxter at my side. Whenever he walked toward TJ, I’d call him back, because TJ was finally forgetting he was scared of big dogs. I didn’t want Baxter’s “exuberance,” as Professor Reese put it, to remind TJ up the stairs and out the front door.
But as long as Baxter stayed with me, TJ was fine. Besides, he’d discovered the little lever under the seat that made it go up and down. “Dude, watch this!” He spun around and made the seat go down. Then he tried to spin around and make it go up, which was hard because you had to sort of stand up and get your weight off the seat. TJ couldn’t figure out a way to simultaneously spin around in the chair and stand up out of it. Though he tried for a while.
So everything was OK.
Me and Professor Reese worked our way through the stacks of cardboard boxes filling the corner. She opened one box and pulled out a bright red hat, which she put on top of the bookcase. We pulled manila folders out of the other boxes to put in her filing cabinets. But when the stacks of boxes got low enough, I saw a strange piece of equipment pushed up against the wall. From the size of it, I guessed it must have been what was in the body-sized crate that the moving guys carried in.
I thought, What is that?
Then I stepped closer to get a better look.
4The Body-Sized Crate
The strange piece of equipment was long, red, and
