Baxter (3 page)

Maria lowered her car window and sat up straighter in her seat to sniff the air that came in. “We’re almost there,” she said excitedly. “Smell that?”

Lizzie sniffed. The breeze coming through the window smelled fresh and clean. She nodded happily, feeling very lucky to be on her way to the cabin. Maria’s parents had agreed that it was fine as long as she did not take her eyes off Baxter for even a few minutes. That was no problem. Lizzie had learned her lesson. Baxter could not be alone — ever. She sniffed again. “It smells good. What is it?”

“That’s the pine forest.” Maria pointed out the window as they drove by a row of tall, dark
trees whose long boughs waved gracefully in the wind.

“They’re hemlocks, to be exact,” said Mr. Santiago from the driver’s seat.

Maria’s dad knew everything about nature. He had grown up in the country, and he could name every plant and bird he saw. Maria had told Lizzie that he knew all about animal tracks, too. “He can tell you where a moose slept, or how high up in a tree a porcupine has been,” she’d boasted.

The car bumped along a rutted dirt road, jouncing Maria and Lizzie against each other in the backseat. They had been driving for almost two hours already, and most of it had been on what Mr. Santiago called back roads — in other words, not highways with fast-food places and rest areas every twelve miles. As a matter of fact, Lizzie could have used a rest area right around then, and the bumpy road was not helping matters. But since she was a guest and trying to be on her
best behavior, she did not want to ask the questions that always seemed to annoy her own parents during car trips, the “Are we there yet? How much longer?” kind of questions.

Baxter could probably use a rest stop, too. “How are you, fur-face?” Lizzie asked the puppy, craning around her seat so she could see him. She remembered Elaina using that nickname, and she had a feeling it made Baxter feel more at home when he heard it. She stuck a finger through the grid of his crate to scratch his nose. Simba lay quietly next to Baxter in the way-back. The big yellow Lab was so well behaved that he did not need to be inside a crate. Mrs. Santiago had him clipped into a special doggy seat belt so he wouldn’t go flying if Mr. Santiago had to stop short.

Baxter put his nose right up to the crate and stuck his tongue through to lick Lizzie’s hand.

I’m fine as long as I’m with you!

“Where does that path go?” Lizzie asked as they drove by a wide, grassy trail that led into the woods. It looked like a great place to take a dog for a walk.

“That’s an old logging road,” Mr. Santiago told her. “They loop all around through these woods. This forest has been well cared for. Cutting down some trees can keep the rest of the forest healthy. That’s why we have so many animals around here, like deer and coyotes and —”

“Coyotes?” Lizzie had heard coyotes howling once, when her family was on a winter vacation in Vermont. She smiled, remembering Bear, the cute husky pup they had fostered there. But in Vermont, the coyotes had been far off in the distance. She wasn’t sure how she felt about them being closer. Her smile faded, and she felt a shiver of fear. “Do they — do they hurt people?”

Mr. Santiago shook his head. “No, but they might be interested in a nice plump puppy,” he
said with a smile. “You’d better keep that Baxter on a leash.”

“I’m not letting Baxter out of my sight this whole weekend,” Lizzie said. She turned to Maria. “I promised your parents, and I promised Elaina, too. She called last night to ask how Baxter was doing, and I had to tell her about the screen door. She was really upset.”

“Has she found a job yet?” Maria’s mom asked. She had heard the whole story about Baxter’s first owner.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t think she’s even looking,” said Lizzie. “She told me she spends a lot of time at the beach, watching dogs play. Then that makes her so sad that she goes home and lies on the couch and watches TV and eats ice cream out of the container.”

“Poor kid,” said Mr. Santiago. “It’ll take her some time to get over having to give up that great dog.” He looked at Baxter in the rearview
mirror and smiled at the puppy. “Isn’t that right, Baxter-boy?”

Lizzie could tell that both of Maria’s parents had fallen in love with Baxter, just like she had.

“Look!” Maria grabbed Lizzie’s arm and pointed out the window. “There’s one of the trails to the lake.”

Lizzie spotted another path winding its way into the deep, dark woods. She was beginning to realize that they were
really
in the country. She had not seen a house for at least a half hour. The road they were on was getting bumpier and the trees seemed closer on each side. When would they get to the cabin?

Then something strange happened. Maria’s dad pulled the car into a little clearing and turned off the engine. “Here we are.” He sighed and stretched out his arms. “That drive seems to get longer all the time. But it’s worth it.”

Lizzie looked around. Where was the cozy cabin
Maria had described? The only building she saw was a tumbledown shed that was hardly big enough to hold a lawn mower.

Maria must have seen Lizzie’s puzzled look. “Well, we’re not
exactly
there yet,” she said. “But this is as far as the road goes.” She hopped out of the car and went over to the shed. Lizzie followed her. When Maria opened the shed door, Lizzie saw two big red wagons inside, the kind that little kids pull around with their teddy bears tucked in. “We have to haul our stuff the rest of the way,” Maria explained. “I guess I forgot to tell you that.”

“I guess you did,” said Lizzie. How long was this hauling part going to take? Now she
really
needed a bathroom. She heard a whimpering noise and turned to see Baxter pawing at his crate and staring at her through the car window. Oops! Poor Baxter did not like it when his person went too far away.

She went right back to the car and clipped on
Baxter’s leash as she opened the crate. He wagged his tail and licked her face all over.

I was a tiny bit scared, but I knew you’d come back!

He jumped out of the car and shook himself off happily. Then he lay down and rolled around, waving all four paws in the air as he squirmed and wriggled, scratching his back on the pine needles and ferns that covered the ground.

Aaah, that feels good!

Lizzie helped load up the wagons. Then Simba led the way down a narrow, winding trail. Lizzie followed, stepping over roots and rocks and even a small muddy stream. How could Mrs. Santiago manage this path? Lizzie tried closing her eyes for a second to see how it would feel to walk the trail if she were blind. Immediately, she tripped
over a rock and nearly fell. Sweet Baxter turned around as if to see if she was all right.

Are you okay
?
Good!

Then he charged ahead, tugging Lizzie along.

“We’re nearly there,” said Maria.

And then they
were
there. Lizzie sighed with relief as she stepped into a wide clearing and saw the cozy little cabin, surrounded by graceful white birch trees. It was really cute, just as she’d pictured it. But right then she didn’t want to linger over the view. All she wanted was a bathroom. She handed Baxter’s leash to Maria and waited impatiently on the porch, shifting from foot to foot as Mr. Santiago unlocked the padlock on the cabin’s front door.

When the door swung open, Lizzie peered into the dark room. Inside, it smelled exactly the way she had imagined a cabin in the forest would smell: like sun-warmed wood and like smoke
from a campfire, mixed with a whiff of that sweet, delicious mustiness you get when you open your favorite old book from the library.

“Um, where’s the bathroom?” she asked.

Mr. Santiago chuckled. “Well, it’s not in here,” he said. He stepped back onto the porch and pointed to a tiny building behind the cabin. “Didn’t Maria tell you? We don’t have indoor plumbing up here. That’s the outhouse.”

The outhouse wasn’t so bad, really. Sure, there were a few cobwebs in the corners and the door was a little creaky, but it was clean and it didn’t smell at all yucky. Golden late-afternoon sunlight streamed through a big window in the back wall, warming the tiny building.

When Lizzie got back from the outhouse, Baxter was waiting for her, straining at the leash Maria held. “He missed you,” called Maria. Lizzie went right over and knelt down to give Baxter a big hug.

“Don’t worry, fur-face. I won’t leave you.” Baxter licked her cheek and wriggled in her arms. His furry eyebrows danced happily.

I was worried there for a minute, but here you are again. Yay!

Maria led Lizzie into the cabin. Mr. and Mrs. Santiago had opened all the windows and doors, and now Lizzie could see how cute and cozy it was inside. The wooden walls made it feel like a ship’s cabin, or a tree house. Mrs. Santiago unloaded a box of food, sorting things by feel and setting them on shelves or putting them into the fridge.

“I thought there was no electricity here,” said Lizzie. “How can there be a refrigerator?”

“Good question! It runs on gas,” explained Mr. Santiago as he set out several old-fashioned lamps, tall glass columns on brass bases. “So does the stove. But these oil lamps will be our only light tonight.”

“Here’s where you and I will sleep.” Maria opened the door to a room in one corner of the
cabin. Lizzie peeked in and saw a tiny space, nearly filled up by two quilt-covered twin beds. “There’s room for Baxter, as long as he doesn’t have to sleep in a crate.”

“He doesn’t,” said Lizzie. “Elaina says he’s totally house-trained and never makes a mistake. He slept on my bed last night and he was fine. Weren’t you, sweetie?” Lizzie leaned down to pet Baxter, who was sticking to her like glue. He was never more than a couple of feet away from her.

“Want to go see the lake?” Maria asked after she’d dumped her duffel bag on one of the beds.

“Let’s all go.” Mr. Santiago grabbed a fishing rod from beside the door. “Maybe I can even catch something for dinner.”

Lizzie pictured a big flopping fish staring up at her from her supper plate.
Yikes.
She’d have to be polite and eat whatever was served.

“Don’t worry,” Maria whispered to Lizzie. “He never catches anything. And Mom brought plenty of chili. We even have s’mores for dessert.”

Lizzie followed the others down a winding trail. She tried to pay attention to the turns they took, but that was hard when Baxter kept stopping to sniff everything.

Mr. Santiago pointed out unusual mushrooms and mosses and ferns. Then he stopped suddenly and knelt down to look more closely at an animal track in the mud. “Wow! This looks like a b —”

“Like a big raccoon?” Mrs. Santiago interrupted him quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Mr. Santiago looked up and grinned. “Right. Like a big raccoon,” he said.

Lizzie had a feeling they were trying to hide something from her, and she could guess what it was. When she passed the track, she took a look. No raccoon had feet
that
big. That was a bear track. She felt a tingle run up her back.

“Come on!” said Maria. “We’re almost there!” She hurried Lizzie along.

“Oh!” said Lizzie a few moments later. The trail
had opened into a big clearing, and there was the lake, still and peaceful, ringed by rocky shores and tall pines. “It’s beautiful.”

Baxter seemed to think so, too. He pulled at the leash, dragging Lizzie right down to the lake. “Careful, Baxter,” said Lizzie. “Don’t pull me in.” But Baxter stopped short when he reached the water’s edge. He patted at the surface with one paw and jumped back when the water rippled.

Yikes! I love this stuff, but I’ve never seen so much of it all in one place!

Then he inched forward and patted at the water again.

Cool!

Lizzie and Maria laughed as they watched Baxter. “I guess he really is a water dog,” said
Lizzie. “Look at him. He can’t take his eyes off it.”

“Better keep
your
eyes on
him
,” said Mr. Santiago. “That water’s not deep, but it’s definitely over that little peanut’s head.”

“Maybe we should teach him to swim!” said Maria. “We could lead him in deeper and show him how to do the doggy paddle.”

Lizzie shook her head. “It’s better not to push him,” she said. “Aunt Amanda says dogs learn best when they are ready. He’ll swim when he wants to swim.” She didn’t add what she was thinking: that the lake water looked very, very cold, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to wade in.

They stayed at the lake until the sun started to go down, then hiked back to the cabin to settle in for the evening. Mr. Santiago lit the lamps while Mrs. Santiago got dinner on the table, and Lizzie did her best to be helpful without getting in the way. That wasn’t easy in the tiny cabin, especially since Baxter was always at her heels.

After dinner, Lizzie and Maria made s’mores in the fireplace. The gas lamps lit the cabin with a warm yellow glow, and the fire crackled and popped. “I can see why you love this cabin,” Lizzie told Maria. “It’s so cozy.”

Before bed, Mr. and Mrs. Santiago stayed with Baxter while Lizzie and Maria took a trip to the outhouse together, flashlights in hand. Outside, it was darker than dark. Billions of stars filled the sky, and the shadowy pines loomed high around the clearing.

Lizzie shivered. She felt very small all of a sudden, and very aware of being way out in the middle of nowhere, far away from her own familiar home and bed and the sounds of her own family settling down for the night. “You’ll be homesick,” she remembered her dad saying. “I’m not sure you’ll like it so far off in the woods,” Mom had said. Maybe they had been right after all. Maybe this hollow, lonely feeling was what people meant by “homesick.”

But when Lizzie looked back toward the cabin, the cheerful yellow light spilling from its windows made it look safe and welcoming. Lizzie yawned. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get into bed.

Inside, the cabin was warm — so warm that Maria and Lizzie opened the window in their bedroom to catch the breeze from outside. Lizzie sighed with pleasure as she snuggled down under her heavy quilt. Baxter turned in circles, then settled down with his own happy sigh on the rag rug between the two beds. Cool, fresh air drifted in through the open window, and the chirping of crickets melded with the low voices of Maria’s parents from the room next door. Lizzie drifted happily off to sleep.

She was woken by a sudden sound, an eerie howl followed by wild yipping and barking. Lizzie sat straight up in bed, and in the dim starlight, she saw that Maria was sitting up, too. She felt Baxter’s nose pushing at her hand, and figured
that the noise had also woken him. “What
is
that?” Lizzie asked. A prickle of fear ran up her back. She knew what it was. She had heard it before. But never this close.

“Coyotes,” Maria said. She yawned loudly. “Nothing to worry about. They’ll stop in a minute.”

She was right. Soon the howling died down and the night was quiet again, except for the sound of crickets. But Lizzie could not get back to sleep for a long time. She pulled up her quilt and lay there, worrying that she might need to go to the outhouse again before morning. What would she do? There was no way she was going outside in the dark by herself — or for that matter, even with Maria. There were coyotes out there, and maybe bears, too. There might be a huge moose or some other scary animal. She didn’t even want to think about it.

Finally, Lizzie did fall asleep. When she woke up, the sun’s first light shone through the
window. The morning was bright and calm, and Lizzie could hardly remember why she had been scared the night before. She slipped out of bed without waking Baxter or Maria, who both snored softly. Sliding into her flip-flops, she padded to the front door. She let herself out, leaving the door a tiny bit ajar so that she wouldn’t wake anyone by slamming it, and headed for the outhouse.

When Lizzie got back to the cabin, the front door hung wide open. She gasped. “Oh, no!” Then she ran, her heart pounding, into the room where she’d slept.

The rag rug between the beds was empty.

Baxter was gone.