Here was my chance to focus Riley. “Actually—”
“Crazy, right? And each cheese has like its own story, where it’s from, how it’s made. Anyway, this guy—his name was actually Guy. Funny, right? But they don’t say Guy. They say Geeeeey. It’s French, whatever, anyway. So one day, Guy gave me this crazy, super melty, super stinky cheese, and it was like magic. I mean, one bite and I was hooked. I couldn’t believe a food tasted like that. It was so different and so awesome. After that, Guy started teaching me all about cheese…”
Riley pulled up in front of the house but didn’t stop talking. As we climbed out of the truck, Josh whispered, “It must be really hard to live out here all alone with nobody to talk to.”
Something about Riley made me think he’d be like this even if he didn’t spend all his time alone.
“So one time, Guy takes me with him to this farm in Vermont to a cheese tasting, and I was like this is it. This is what I’m gonna do! Like for life. I’m going to make cheese on my family’s farm. And I told my dad, and he was so psyched that I wanted to come back and like do my thing here. He’d had it with those big dairy folks anyway, so he was like Riley, you do it your way. Your mom and I are hitting the beach. So I went back to school, changed my major from electronic music to agriculture, and now I’m here, living the dream. My girlfriend graduates in June, then she’s moving up here. Maybe some friends too. It’s a crazy lot of work.”
We’d followed Riley onto the porch of the little house, and he pushed open the front door. “Hey, boys!” he called into a small room lined with shelves and hooks.
The second we stepped inside, two huge gray blurs—the “boys” I guessed—were coming at us. Before I knew it, one of them had me pinned against the wall, his paws on my shoulders.
“Meet Ziggy,” said Riley. “This one’s Gonzo,” he said of the other dog whose paws were on his own shoulders. Riley seemed to think this was a fine way to say hello. This was so not professional. I didn’t need Starting Your Own Business for Dummies to know that.
“Hello, Ziggy,” I said, looking up. Stretched out like that, Ziggy was taller than I was. Drool yo-yoed down at me from both sides of Ziggy’s furry chin. I tried to turn my head to the wall to get out of range of the drool, but Ziggy dipped and blocked, and then all I could see was tongue.
“Uch!” I gagged.
Ziggy had licked my face so hard, he’d gotten saliva up my nose—his saliva. It hurt and it stunk. Ziggy’s breath was toxic, and now it was inside my nose so I couldn’t even get away from it.
“Wow! He really likes you,” Riley said.
Gonzo dropped off Riley and mashed his head into Josh’s side.
“Hey, Gonzo.” Josh scratched the dog’s back.
“Ziggy’s kinda heavy.” On top of the smell, I felt like my shoulders were about to separate from the rest of my body.
“Yup. Two hundred pounds of love, isn’t that right, Ziggy?” Riley stroked Ziggy’s head, and finally, Ziggy jumped down.
As Josh pet Gonzo, the dog flopped over, knocking Josh backward, and he had to grab onto a hanging raincoat to keep from falling.
“They love attention. Isn’t that right, Gonzo?” Riley squatted and scratched the dog’s belly. “What’s this—oh no!” Riley rubbed something greasy off Gonzo’s nose. “What did you do?” Riley suddenly sounded a whole lot like my mother. He stood up, marched down the hall, and disappeared into the room at the other end.
Gonzo popped up onto all fours.
“Gonzo! Ziggy!”
Ziggy whimpered. Then he and Gonzo slunk slowly off down the hall.
Riley appeared in the doorway. “Didn’t I leave this door closed? Didn’t I?” Now he really sounded like my mother.
The dogs stopped at the doorway and dropped to their bellies.
“Am I going to have to get a lock on the kitchen door?” Riley waited. Not surprisingly, the dogs weren’t answering.
Josh looked at me.
“We can come back,” I said.
“Don’t look at me like you don’t know what you did.”
“He’s still talking to the dogs, right?” Josh whispered.
One of the dogs, Ziggy, I think, barked.
“Yes, you do. And I’m very disappointed in you,” Riley said, shaking his head.
The other one barked.
“You just stay there and think about what you did.” Riley turned around. “Look at this mess.”
“Now he’s talking to us. C’mon,” I said.
In the kitchen, broken glass covered the floor, and two chairs, snapped in half, lay in a pool of milk. “I don’t know how that dog whisperer guy never loses his patience. I’m really sorry,” Riley said.
“Oh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Josh said because he’s Josh. I didn’t say anything.
“I had this whole tasting set up with crackers for the butter, and I made this awesome drink with the milk and some maple syrup.”
“We can come back some other time,” Josh said.
“Or maybe we could just do it at my place,” I said, giving Josh a look.
Riley snapped his fingers. “Hey, I got it. Care package. Hold on. Two secs.”
It took way more than two seconds, but eventually, Riley had put together the care package and Josh was bungee cording it to his bike rack.
“So you’ve got the butter, a pint of milk, and one of cream. And I put in some Farmers’ Wish for your mom, and also something I’m experimenting with, triple cream made of raw milk, super gooey, crazy stinky. It’s wrapped in Riverbirch bark so you just scoop it out.”
“Okay, thanks. We’ll taste everything today and get back to you,” I said.
“Yeah, stop by anytime. I’m always here.”
“We’ll email!” I called as we biked off. I didn’t plan on visiting Stinky
