Skip

Barney approaches the telephone pole. The staple gun he borrowed from his dad is heavy. His arm shakes with effort as he lifts it.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwackthwack.

There. All four corners of the sign are stapled to the wooden pole. Gratefully he relaxes his shooting arm, rubbing at his shoulder as he steps back to read the notice once again.

Lost Dog
Answers to Skip



Please call 206.555.2368
No questions asked

Barney sighs. That’s five down, with five more copies of the same sign to tack up around the neighborhood. He misses his dog something fierce.

Barney looks to the sky, noticing the clouds building as they do pretty much every afternoon. Mom says she’s grateful for the rain, but Barney thinks she’s telling a fib. Seems grownups tell fibs a lot. Just like the fib Dad told him when he dropped him off down the street from their house after the trip to Kinkos.

“Skip will come back on his own, Barney. He’s probably just out for a jaunt.”

Barney nodded to prove he was listening. But if Skip was out for a jaw—whatever you call it, then he should have been back three days ago.

Mindful that Mom told him to be home before dark, he continues to post the lost dog notices on any likely pole. Missing dog or not, Barney’s not allowed out after dark by himself. Pretty much the only nights he’s out after dark is Halloween or when they have parent-teacher night at school.

Out of signs, Barney races to make it home in time before the streetlights come on. That’s always the deadline before Mom comes out to stand on the porch and look anxiously up and down the street. She’s always glad to see him, although she frowns and taps her watch. Usually Skip blasts up the stairs before him and she yells about his muddy paws.

This time there's no Skip and no Mom. Barney trudges up the stairs and lets himself in the front door after carefully wiping his feet.

“Mom? Any calls yet?”

Her voice comes from upstairs. “You just got home from hanging the signs. Nobody’s had a chance to read them yet.”

That means no. No calls.

Barney takes his shoes off and puts them in the cubby by the door. Dad’s supposed to take his shoes off too, but manages to forget all the time. So it’s just his shoes, a pair of his Mom’s gardening clogs, and the red hat she wears to shade her eyes. Dad says the clogs are ugly. Mom says they keep the mud off of her feet and he should really think of getting his own pair and helping her with the vegetable garden sometime.

Later, after dinner, the phone rings. Barney holds his breath as his dad takes the call.

“Okay, sport, looks like we got a live one. Guy says he saw Skip down by the dump earlier today.”

Barney jumps out of his chair, his heart beating wildly. “Why are you sitting there? Let’s go!”

Without waiting for his dad, Barney races to the front door. He’s shaking so hard he can barely get his shoes on.

Dad follows more slowly, Mom trailing behind. “Now honey,” she says, “don’t get your hopes up. I mean, I’m sure Skip is fine.” She hands him a zipped plastic baggie full of kibble. “Here, take this. Skip will be hungry.”

Barney takes the bag hastily. “Come. On. DAD.”

Dad wastes more time giving Mom a kiss. “We’ll be back soon.”

He follows his anxious son out to the car. As soon as the doors are unlocked, Barney gets into the back seat and buckles himself in. He still has a way to go before he weighs enough not to have to sit in the stupid booster seat. Someday he’ll be big enough to sit in the front.

His dad backs the SUV out of the driveway. They head towards the dump; a place Barney has never been before and certainly not after dark.

Raindrops spatter the windshield. Just enough, as his dad always says, to smear the windshield but not enough to properly wash the car.

At the entrance to the dump, Dad parks the car. Barney, already unbuckling his harness, clambers out of the backseat.

“Where is he? SKIP?”

There’s only silence.

Taking his Dad’s hand, they walk to the entrance. The gate is locked with a big chain.

“We can’t get in here, bud. Let’s try further down.” Pointing the way, they walk together, using the chain link fence as a guide.

Barney calls for Skip a couple of times in a hushed voice. It’s creepy down here.

Once they’ve walked what seems a long way, they find a section of fence that has been bent just enough that Barney and his dad can squeeze through.

Almost immediately, Barney stumbles over a broken television. He would have fallen if his dad hadn’t caught him and set him back on his feet.

“Watch your step, son. We don’t know what’s out here.”

“Skip?” Barney calls out hesitantly. His heart is pounding so hard he can barely hear anything. It’s pretty dark and he wants to go home. But not without his dog.

There’s a scratching sound, followed by a muted 'woof.'

“Skip?” There's another 'woof,' this time louder.

“SKIP!” There, dirty from being out of doors for three days, is his dog. He runs towards Barney, woofing with delight at being found.

Barney drops to his knees and hugs the dog tightly. “Mom gave me some food to give you. I missed you!”

Mom will be glad to see Skip too. Even if she does grumble about him needing a bath.

***
956 words

Write a story or poem that includes a lost dog, a red hat, and a broken television. Bold them, and choose MYSTERY as one of your genres.