Like Carrot Juice on a Cupcake (8 page)

And by the time she came back,

holding a new instruction sheet,

I just wanted her to go away.

The only thing I said to her

during the whole rest of the lab was,

“You put in too much powder.

That’s
why our bouncy ball won’t bounce.”

She tried talking to me later,

in and out of class.

The way she always did.

But I shrugged her off

or shook my head.

Until finally she stopped trying.

She just looked at me now and then.

Maybe waiting for me to talk first.

Only,

I didn’t.

Antoine peed

right in the middle of

my parents’ bed

the next night.

Even though he was already

very housebroken.

I think he knew

bad things

were about to happen.

I think he knew

doggie camp was going to begin

the very next morning.

“We’re never leaving our bedroom door open again,”

my mom told my dad

as they stripped the peed-on sheets off their bed.

“Don’t be mad,” I said.

“Antoine’s
scared
. That’s why he did it.”

“Maybe he could learn to bite his nails instead,”

my dad said.

“Do you think doggie camp teaches nail-biting?”

“Don’t joke about doggie camp,” my mom said.

“I’m counting on doggie camp.”

She shook her head at Antoine

as she gathered the dirty sheets and bedspread.

Then she and my dad left, to do laundry.

I knelt down beside my dog.

He lay flat on his belly, with his chin on the floor.

His ears looked even floppier than usual.

“Don’t be scared,” I told him.

“Camp is only two weeks.

Even if you hate it at first,

you’ll get used to it.

And the end will go by fast.”

For a second I wondered

if Pearl would think I was being too nice to Antoine.

But then I decided,

I didn’t care what Pearl thought.

I could be nice to my dog if I wanted to.

The next morning,

my mom asked me

to put together a big bag for Antoine,

with his food

and bones

and favorite toys

and the blanket he loves to sleep on.

I didn’t want to gather his things.

Because that would make it easier for him to go.

But I knew what he loved best

and what he’d miss most.

And I wanted to make sure he had everything.

So I put together his bag.

Then I put Antoine on his leash,

and our family went downstairs together.

To wait for the doggie camp van.

It was supposed to arrive at 10:00 that morning.

But we were still waiting at 10:18.

“I hope they haven’t forgotten,” my mom said.

“
I
hope they
have
,” I said.

A squirrel ran by,

and I had to keep Antoine from chasing it.

Then he said hello to Duchess,

the giant poodle

that lives in the apartment below us.

Finally,

a white van pulled up.

It had these words painted on the side:

YIP-YAP U

A COLLEGE FOR CANINES

“We’re sending Antoine to
college
?” I said.

“They’re just being clever,” my mom said.

“He won’t go to Harvard until he’s eighteen,”

my dad said.

“
Everyone
is being clever,” my mom said.

And then a tall man with very curly hair

hopped out of the van.

“You must be the Kanes,” he said to us.

“I’m Pete.”

After the grown-ups shook hands,

Pete crouched down in front of Antoine.

I wanted Antoine to growl at him.

Maybe even nip.

Instead, he wagged his tail.

Especially when Pete started feeding him treats.

That’s cheating
, I thought.

I glared at Pete, the big fat cheat,

who’d come to take my dog from me.

But he didn’t notice.

He was too busy rubbing

the little space between Antoine’s eyes.

“We’re going to be good friends, aren’t we?”

he said to Antoine.

Then he stood back up

and glanced at his watch.

“Traffic,” he said, shaking his head.

“It’s already set me back,

and I have two more dogs to pick up.”

“Here you go,” my dad said,

handing over Antoine’s bag.

Pete slung it over his shoulder

and scooped Antoine up with one hand.

“Put him
down
!” I wanted to say.

I hadn’t even said good-bye!

Maybe Pete understood,

because he said to Antoine,

“Give everyone some love.”

We all gathered around

and said a quick good-bye.

“We’ll miss you, little guy,”

my dad said, rubbing Antoine’s neck.

“I want you to have fun,” my mom told Antoine.

And I said, “Don’t be scared.”

Then Pete put Antoine’s bag

and Antoine

in the van.

“Don’t worry,” he said.

“I’ve got him in a doggie seat belt.

Very safe and comfy.”

I could see Antoine through the van window,

sitting on the seat,

all buckled up.

Looking confused.

I hated that we were giving him to a stranger.

“What’s your last name?” I shouted at Pete

as he walked around the van.

He shouted back something

that sounded like “Pain!”

“We don’t know
anything
about that man,”

I told my parents.

“Please don’t worry,” my mom said.

“Everything will be fine.”

Then Pete Pain climbed into the van.

And we all watched

as he drove my dog

farther and farther away.

“I’m having bad memories,” I said.

“I’m remembering Bibi,

waving good-bye.”

“Me, too,” my parents both said, together.

Because when I was eight,

my very special babysitter, Bibi,

rode off, too.

In the backseat of a cab.

And moved to Florida, forever.

“Antoine will be back,” my mom said,

“in two short weeks.”

“He might have to escape from Pete,” I said.

I imagined Pete with a mask on,

carrying Antoine in a sack.

And Antoine struggling to get out.

“He will
not
have to
escape
from Pete,”

my mom said.

“I give you my solemn promise.”

“So do I,” my dad said.

He put his arm around me,

and I decided to believe both of them

as we all went upstairs together.