A Little Surprise

An excerpt from Rocky and Tiger, Chapter 3

“Abigail is this one of the weeds we are supposed to be pulling?” asked Anne.

“It is a weed or a flower for sure,” said Abigail.

The twins were sweating in the hot sun helping their grandma with her garden. In the meantime, Grandpa was putting a new coat of stain on the deck leading from the kitchen. Just as the girls knew they were about to melt away, Grandma went in to make a big pitcher of lemonade. She came out with lemonade and fresh strawberries from the garden, topped with a little cream.

“Everyone take a break,” said Grandma.

Grandpa carefully wiped his hands while the girls washed their hands in the water from the hose. Grandma gave them a towel, and they all sat under the shade of the gazebo. The twins got very busy eating the sweet strawberries and drinking the cold lemonade. Before their glasses were half empty, Abigail wanted to know if the boys ever got their dog.

“There is still more work to do, girls,” said Grandma.

“But what if Grandpa doesn’t finish his story this week?” asked Anne.

“Right,” said Abigail, “we might never know what happened.”

Grandpa and the girls looked at Grandma, pleading with their eyes. Grandma rolled her eyes and started to collect dishes.

“Fine, David,” Grandma said. “Tell the story. It is hot outside now anyway; we can finish the work tomorrow.”

Grandma took the dishes in to wash them, while Grandpa and the twins sat in the shade of the gazebo. Grandpa went back to his story.

Each day after our chores were done, we would go out and play. Mike would often go off with his friends to wherever sixth graders go in the summertime. Pat would sometimes go to the park or to a friend’s house, but often he would hang around the house and play with David. Being a first grader, David would usually stay near home, maybe riding his bike and looking forward to graduating from the training wheels soon.

One day, David came outside and thought Pat was in the yard but couldn’t see him. I went looking around the side of the house, but my brother was not there. I tried back in the shed at the bottom of the yard. Dad had told the boys that we should stay out of the shed unless he was there, which I decided meant there was a good chance Pat was there. Since Pat might be there, it gave me an excuse to go into the shed. Well, Pat was not there, but Tiger was.

I tried to play chase with Tiger, but it was no more fun than it ever was with the cat. When I chased Tiger, the cat ran across the yard and up into the big tree in the neighbor’s yard. Even though the tree was big, I thought I might climb up after Tiger since you could reach the bottom branch by climbing up on the fence. The cat hissed at me, and I decided it would not be fun to make the cat more upset.

Meanwhile, from up in the apple tree, Pat was watching me roam around the yard looking for him. He was hiding in the tree and waiting for me to come under the branch that went to the north, the one that was easy to swing out on and drop to the ground. When we played cowboy, Pat often suggested I be the bad guy riding past the tree and Pat would be the sheriff, who would swing out of the tree and knock the bad guy off his horse.

Pat thought what he was planning now would be even better. He really would surprise his brother as David walked under the tree. So, the big brother was hiding and waiting for his little brother until finally, after a few minutes of wandering around the yard, I came to just the right place. Pat swung out of the tree and dropped on me.

Playing cowboys, this would have led to a good brother’s scuffle and would have been lots of fun. This time, however, the littler brother was surprised. I felt angry that Pat had avoided me and then jumped on me without warning. Of the three boys, Mike might have been the smart one, and Pat was the athletic one, but I had hogged all the hot temper to myself.

Pat could of course have beaten me in a real fight. But when I got that one particular scowl on my face, no one really ever wanted to fight me, I jumped up with my fists clenched. Pat ran around to the other side of the apple tree, laughing. I came around the tree, but Pat kept just to the other side. I was getting angrier each minute. Finally, Pat thought it might be more fun, and smarter, to play chase until I had cooled down some. I chased my big brother around the yard, hot on his heels. Suddenly, Pat saw the big tree that hung over the fence. Pat scampered up the fence and into the tree.

I got to the fence, rage showing on my face. Just as I was about to go up the fence and into the tree, Pat saw Tiger on the branch next to him. It may not have been a nice idea, but it was an irresistible one. Pat reached over to the cat and, in the same movement, dropped the cat on my face.

As the cat fell toward my face, my eyes grew big with surprise. I was too scared to move out of the way. Luckily, I closed my eyes just in time.

The startled cat put out his claws as he fell and tried for an instant to get his footing, dancing a few confused clawing steps on my face, before jumping off.

 “Cat clawing your face,” said Grandma, coming back to the gazebo. “That explains a lot.”

Grandpa gave her the same look he used to try to frighten people, but the love in his eyes never let Grandma believe that face. The old man sighed and went on with the story.

Instead of the cat in my face making me angrier, it had helped to break the mood. Not that I wasn’t angry with my brother, but it was a cool move. Pat apologized and said I should let Mom look at my scratches. Together, the two of us went toward the house. Tiger, meanwhile, had run from us and jumped into the screen door. On hitting the screen door, the cat bounced back, and the door opened a little. This was enough for the cat to get into the house. The cat ran to the space between the wall and the couch where the boys could not reach him.

As we came inside, I started to feel the pain of the scratches. I cried loudly. The two of us, Pat and I, found Mike in the kitchen. Mike shushed my crying. It was almost time for Dad to come home, Mom was in a good mood, and today marked a full week since we had made our case to get a dog. It was time, Mike reminded us, to ask about a dog again.

“We don’t have much chance of a dog I know,” he said. “But if you two have been fighting and David is crying, well there just won’t be any chance.”

“The kid won’t cry any more, will you David,” said Pat.

I stopped crying, but the faces I made trying to keep the crying in did not make Mike look too convinced. Just then, we heard Dad’s voice as he strolled in the front door.

We boys ran into the living room, where Mom was sitting in her chair next to the fan. She had been reading a book when Dad got home. Dad stood in the middle of the living room with one hand behind his back.

“Mom and Dad,” Mike said with a hopeless shrug, looking at the faces I was pulling. “Can we have a dog? Please?”

“A dog,” said Pat before Mom and Dad could answer. “A dog can play tug-of-war and wrestle and run and chase and can catch a ball. All things a boy needs. Cats are okay, but dogs can do lots more.”

“And a dog won’t jump out of a tree and scratch your face,” David cried. I was aware that the cat had not really chosen to jump on me. I also knew that telling on Pat now would not help us get a dog, but I could only control pouting so much.

“We’ll see,” said Mom. “David, let me see your face.”

The boys all loved their mom, but she had said “We’ll see” again. Now, we pinned all our hopes on the biggest boy in the house. Surely, Dad would see reason. It was unfair that he had owned a dog and we couldn’t. The two older boys just looked at Dad. I went to my mother, but my eyes stayed on Dad as well.

“One of the guys at work has a girl dog,” said Dad, looking back at us. “His dog had puppies.” Dad pulled his hand from behind his back, and there was a cute little golden-brown puppy scrunched in his hand, just slightly bigger than his palm. The biggest boy in the house continued. “He let me have this puppy. So, yes, it looks like we can have a dog.”

 “A puppy!” said Anne.

“What was the puppy’s name?” asked Abigail.

“Well, snack time is done. And now, I have to finish the deck,” was all the old man said, and he walked away.

The twins both looked at Grandma.

“You girls go play,” Grandma said. “I’ll bet you can get him to tell you the puppy’s name at bedtime.”

The girls had little else they could do about the story. At least their chores were done for the day, and so they went off to play with their toy unicorns in the flower garden that they pretended was a magic forest.