“You can only do your best and work your hardest,” Betty said. “That is what you have always told us. You will not disappoint us whatever you do. We will love and admire you whether you win the prize or not.”
“Thank you, Betty,” Pa Peachey said. “You are a good girl, and I am proud to have you as my daughter.”
There was a long pause.
“But I still intend to win first prize.”
More crashing and banging came from the kitchen.
Betty and McTavish went to the park and did more dashing and jumping and running and leaping and playing ball.
The most surprising thing that Betty discovered about exercising with a dog was that it did not feel like exercise; it felt like fun. The second-most surprising thing she discovered was how very good McTavish was at catching a ball.
Once, she threw the ball so high it bounced off the top of a tree. But McTavish jumped up on a park bench, leaped in the air, and caught it. Another time she threw the ball so hard it flew all the way over a pond.
There is no way on earth that McTavish will catch that ball, thought Betty. I have thrown it much too hard and much too far.
But before she could finish her thought, she saw a flash of gold headed toward the pond. Could it be? Yes! It was McTavish, running so fast that his legs were a blur. McTavish came to the edge of the pond, leaped into the water without a second’s pause, and began to swim.
McTavish swam even faster than he ran, scattering ducks in all directions. In no time at all, he had crossed the pond, scrambled out the other side, glanced up into the air—and caught the ball.
Everybody in the park clapped and cheered to see McTavish perform his amazing feat.
“If only there were an Olympics for dogs,” said one man.
“He would surely win,” said a woman.
“What an amazing dog,” said a little boy.
“I wish he was mine,” said a little girl.
McTavish held the ball tightly in his mouth and shook the water out of his coat. He trotted back around the pond to where Betty stood, and dropped the ball at her feet.
Betty smiled and kissed McTavish, even though he was very wet and smelled like a pond.
“Good dog, McTavish,” Betty said with pride. “You are a very clever dog indeed.”
Meanwhile, back at the house, Pa Peachey was so tired from working on his masterpiece that he staggered up to his bedroom for a rest.
While Pa Peachey rested, Ma Peachey snuck into the kitchen and made a large, healthy meal for dinner. Everybody was grateful not to be eating sandwiches again, even Pa Peachey.
Over dinner that night, the Peachey family talked about McTavish’s skill at catching balls, about German philosophy, and about the weather.
Nobody dared ask Pa Peachey how his project was going.
Once again, Betty and McTavish were playing ball in the park.
Betty threw the ball as far as she possibly could. Then she and McTavish ran after it as fast as they possibly could.
Betty threw the ball as high as she possibly could, and she and McTavish leaped up in the air as high as they possibly could to catch it.
They played catch for some time.
After playing catch, Betty and McTavish ran all the way around the pond. They chased some geese. They dodged around trees and tried to tag each other. They ran up a hill and down a hill. Then up the hill again. By the time they went home, they were huffing and puffing. And happy.
“Are you and McTavish planning to run a marathon?” Ollie asked.
“We’re getting back in shape after eating too many cakes,” Betty said. “And it’s working. Come on, Ollie, I’ll race you upstairs.”
But Ollie wasn’t interested in racing, so she raced McTavish instead.
Ma Peachey came downstairs from her office.
Ollie was combing his hair in a new way that he hoped might attract more girlfriends, while Ava read Philosophical Fragments, a book by the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard that no one has ever understood.
“Do you really understand that?” Ma Peachey asked Ava.
“Of course,” Ava said, and went back to her reading.
Ma Peachey shrugged. “Has anyone seen your father?” she asked.
Ollie and Ava shook their heads.
“A bad sign,” Ma Peachey said. “Has anyone heard your father?”
Ollie and Ava shook their heads.
“Another bad sign,” Ma Peachey said. She sighed. “I think I had better investigate.”
Ma Peachey carefully pushed open the kitchen door. Ava and Ollie followed close behind.
Inside, Pa Peachey was still at the kitchen table, his head resting on a pile of gingerbread. He was fast asleep, snoring softly.
“Oh dear,” whispered Ma Peachey.
“Oh dear,” Ava whispered.
Ollie looked at the Palace of Versailles.
“Oh dear,” he whispered.
They all stared.
“Oh dear,” they all whispered at once.
“Do you think we can fix it?” Ava whispered.
“No,” Ollie whispered.
“I’m afraid your brother is right,” Ma Peachey whispered. “I don’t think anyone could fix it.”
“Not NASA,” whispered Ollie. “Or Michelangelo. Or Albert Einstein. Or . . .”
“We get your drift,” whispered Ava.
Ma Peachey ushered them out of the kitchen.
“What on earth are we going to do?” she asked in a normal tone of voice.
Upstairs they could hear Betty and McTavish leaping and running and jumping. The ceiling rattled and shook.
“It’s their new exercise program,” Ollie explained. “And it’s very annoying.”
Ma Peachey put her hands over her ears. “I suppose we shall just have to wake Pa Peachey and let him try to finish his masterpiece.”
“But he’ll be a laughingstock!” Ollie said.
Ava picked up her book. “I am just now reading about the role of doubt and faith in human philosophy. And although doubt is important, faith is important, too. I think it might
