Even as he turned, he caught motion in his periphery – the dog had heard him. He bolted across the lawn, then through the gate, which Nacho yanked shut behind him. Jeff kept running a good thirty feet past the gate, expecting to hear the dog’s roar, feel the snap of its jaws.
Nothing.
Jeff turned back. Nacho was peering between the slats of the fence, making awed, “wooooow” sounds. Jeff jogged back and pressed his own eye up to the fence.
Through the slats, he just caught the two heads swallowing down the last of Nacho’s meat. They licked up the blood from the splattered concrete, then muzzled the now-empty tray. Nacho made another low exclamation as the two heads licked each other clean.
“That was FAST,” Nacho breathed out.
“You should have brought more,” Jeff whispered.
“That was all we had,” Nacho whispered back defensively.
“He’s still hungry, though. I’m just saying.” After a minute, he added, “But look how much calmer he is now.”
“Who’s calmer?” Suzy asked from behind them.
Nacho spun with a yelp. Jeff jumped, too, but he tried to hide it and said, carefully, “I thought the dog was being mean because he was hungry, and since he doesn’t like Dusty’s food, I figured he probably wanted meat. So I lured him out of the house with a piece of chicken.”
“So now what?” Suzy asked. “It’s in the backyard, but the door is open, so it’ll just go back in.”
“Yeah,” Jeff admitted uncomfortably. “I should have put the meat farther from the house, so then we could go in the front door or the garage and close the back door from the inside…” He trailed off, then brightened. “But if we had another piece of meat, we could throw it, like, into the back corner of the yard and lure him away. But Nacho only brought the one piece.”
Nacho looked distinctly annoyed and muttered, “We only HAD one piece.”
“Hey! You could ask Jenny if she has any meat, and she could bring it over,” Jeff suggested, trying too late not to sound too eager.
Suzy narrowed her eyes. “Why Jenny?”
Jeff shrugged. “Or, just, any of your friends. Whoever’s closest.” He was blushing again.
“Hmmm,” Suzy considered. “We could just ask Peter. He’s closest. Of course,” her expression turned mischievous, “Peter doesn’t have Jenny’s long, shiny hair. Or her adorable little dimples! And he wouldn’t be all, ‘Oh Jeff, how brave you are to go in there with that MONSTER!’”
Suzy fluttered her eyelashes fawningly at her brother. Then seeing his expression, she reined herself in and gave him a real smile.
Nacho was looking away, trying to hide the grin he couldn’t keep off his face. Jeff ground his teeth.
“Seriously, though, I think Jenny’s out of town. But I can go ask Peter, or maybe Elizabeth Henly; she’s not that far away.”
“Call whoever you want,” Jeff growled. “I don’t care.”
Suzy, apparently feeling bad for embarrassing Jeff, walked down the street to Peter’s house and returned a few minutes later holding a book-sized package wrapped in butcher paper.
Jeff tore it open, revealing a frozen T-bone steak.
“Kind of makes me hungry,” he mused.
“What are you doing with that?” his dad interrupted, walking over. “Ignacio, long time, no see.” He held out a fist to Nacho, who timidly gave it a bump while Suzy rolled her eyes. He turned to Jeff. “So what’s the steak for?”
The answer led to a lot more questions, followed by fatherly admonitions about kids being smart, etc., etc.
“Okay, Dad. You’re right. We get it,” Jeff interrupted. “Now can we please go give this to the dog?”
His dad glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Actually, it’s not the worst idea. Your mother just went down to the Mastersons’ to ask if they can help or if they have any farm tools that would help, but I really doubt they have anything. Let’s do this. But let’s be careful, and let’s do it quick before your mother gets home.”
A few minutes later, they were in position: Jeremiah with his hand on the doorknob of the front door, glad he was wearing his running shoes, the kids perched on the horizontal beam of the fence, looking over the backyard.
“Ready?” Jeremiah yelled.
“Yeah!” came back the faint reply.
“Throw it!” Jeremiah called.
After a long moment, he heard Jeff’s voice, “It worked! It’s heading for the back of the yard. Go!” Jeremiah threw open the door and charged inside.
He may have charged too fast.
The entryway rug slid as he ran over it, making him trip. It also bunched up, blocking the front door, but he ignored this, scrambling to his feet and running for the back door. His eyes widened. Through the open door, he could see the dog tearing across the lawn toward him.
He wasn’t going to beat it to the door.
Jeremiah turned and ran back the way he had come, through the front door. He tried to slam it behind him, but the bunched-up rug was in the way. He reached down to try to pull the rug out of the way, and then the dog was there, slamming into the half-open door, one head craning around and nearly catching Jeremiah’s ear.
The monster roared, incredibly loud to Jeremiah, who was still trying to pull the door closed after him. He yanked on the rug; it wouldn’t budge, leaving the door open about an inch. The dog moved to the side of the door, snarling and pawing at the gap. Jeremiah heaved on the door handle, trying to force it over the rug. It was hopeless. And he couldn’t hold it like this forever.
“Kids!” He yelled. “I’m going to let the dog chase me! Once it’s out, get in our back yard, and close the gate! Then go inside and shut the front door!” He groaned as
