Lines in the Sand (Crossing The Lines #0.5) (4 page)

I felt Jonah nearly crumple in disappointment next to me.

“Well, thanks anyway,” I said and turned to go.

“What if I showed you this?” Jonah said and pulled the bone from his pocket. He must’ve snuck in and gotten it from my closet when he called his mom.

“Dude! What are you doing?” I practically screamed. We were so busted now!

Jonah ignored me and moved forward, obvious desperation pressing him on as he shoved the bone into the vet’s hands. “Please,” he said, “just look at this and see if you can help us.”

Oh, God. We were so going to juvie.

Dr. Thomlin examined the bone, pulling up his glasses to look at it with his naked eyes. “Come with me, boys.” He didn’t wait before he spun on his heel and headed for one of his back rooms.

We rushed to follow and ended up in a room with two large metal sinks, a huge metal operating table, lots of canisters, medicine bottles, and a microscope. He pulled out a magnifying glass and gave the bone a thorough once over.

“Where’d you get this?” he asked, setting the bone down.

“Wait,” I said, “are we in trouble?”

He actually looked taken aback. “Why would you be in trouble?”

I pointed at the bone. “Uh, because we have that.”

“We didn’t hurt no one, I swear,” Jonah piped up, shuffling from foot to foot.

Dr. Thomlin smiled. “Well, I hope not. And, no, you’re not in trouble, because as far as I know, it’s not illegal to have a dog bone.”

“A dog bone?” I echoed.

“Yes,” he said. “Now, where did you get this?” he asked again.

“The beach,” Jonah answered. “Along with these.” He carefully pulled out the white fabric and leather strip and placed them on the exam table next to the bone.

Dr. Thomlin studied them for several heartbeats, then reached out with a trembling fingertip and touched the leather. “Lettie.”

“You knew her?” I asked, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

He glanced up and I was shocked to see tears filling his eyes. “Yes. Oh, yes.” He glanced down as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Boys, you asked me about a woman. I have no idea about that. But have you ever heard about the dog who saved the baby?”

“No,” we said in unison.

He smiled. “Then we have a lot to talk about, don’t we? Because there’s a story you need to hear.” He picked up the weathered bone. “Yup. Miss Lettie, she was a hero.”

“A hero?” Jonah asked once we were settled into Dr. Thomlin’s office with cold Cokes.

“May I?” he asked, indicating the leather strap.

“Sure.” Jonah handed it back to him.

He held it lovingly as he began his story. “Well, Lettie was a sad case. She was a stray, maybe a German Shepherd mix, but it was hard to tell. The people around here didn’t want anything to do with her because of how she looked—I’m pretty sure she had the mange, but she wouldn’t let me get close enough to take a good look at her, and Animal Control didn’t have any better luck. She was a quick one, she was.”

“She was sick?” Jonah asked between sips of his drink.

“Best as I could tell. She was skinny, malnourished, and like I said, her fur was pretty mangled and had seen better days. She wasn’t the friendliest girl, but who could blame her? Life had been rough on her. The only person who took pity on her was old Mildred Spencer, who left her scraps and a bowl of water every day. She’s the one who brought her in when she was hit by a car, and that’s how I first met her. I named her Lettie after my grandmother. Something in her sweet eyes haunted me and it seemed to fit.

“Anyway, Miss Lettie wasn’t going to stay in this clinic and convalesce, no, sir. She escaped outta here as fast as she could and hightailed it to the beach. I figured out pretty darn quick that was where she was happiest. She loved to roam the dunes and chase the gulls and play in the waves. When she wasn’t misbehaving with the tourists, that is.” He grinned and gave a half laugh at the memory.

“So, why didn’t you just adopt her?” I wondered.

“I would’ve, but she wouldn’t adopt me.” He winked. “There was no taming Lettie. She was not about to stay inside. She didn’t trust anybody, but I was working on it, feeding her, talking sweet to her. I was trying. But she just didn’t seem to like grown people. Now, children, that was a whole different matter. She loved children.”

Jonah leaned forward, a smile growing. I knew he’d always wanted a dog, but his parents wouldn’t allow it. “So what happened?”

The doctor’s eyes clouded. “Well, one day, a family was at the beach just as a far off storm was churning up the waters. The parents weren’t paying the children any mind and the littlest girl toddled off into the water and the undertow pulled her under.” He sucked in a breath, as if the memory was fresh and painful. “Obviously, Lettie saw something was wrong and went diving into the water. She fought those waves with everything she had and pulled that baby right out.” He looked down as tears once again pooled in his eyes.

I swallowed the lump crowding my throat. I was afraid to ask, though I thought I maybe knew the answer. “Was the baby okay?”

He looked up and nodded. “Yes. She was fine. The sad thing was, her parents barely even acknowledged their mistake or what Lettie had done.”

“Ah, man,” Jonah said.

“I rushed over when I heard the sirens and saw the commotion.” He set down the leather piece and looked us in the eye. “I found Lettie lying on the sand, alone, forgotten, dying.”

I blinked hard and swallowed, choking back tears as my throat burned.

“I was so angry at those people,” Dr. Thomlin continued. “They let this poor dog suffer, not wanting her any more now that she’d done this wonderful thing than they did before. She gave her life for that baby and they didn’t care.”

“So what’d you do?” Jonah asked, his voice tight.

“I held her in my lap as she gave her last breath. And I cried.”

Silence reigned heavily in the room. I breathed in and out, not sure what to say.

Jonah shifted, his chair squeaking as the air conditioner hummed to life.

I studied Dr. Thomlin’s tear-streaked face. “So you made that leather band with her name on it?”

“Yes, as a collar for her. And I buried her wrapped in the white cloth.”

“On the beach?” I asked, wanting to be skeeved that I’d found her bone, but somehow I wasn’t.

“Yes,” he admitted sheepishly. “I know I wasn’t supposed to. But it was where she was happiest, so it seemed the right thing to do. For her. And after how people treated her, I thought she deserved that one thing.”

I nodded. He was right.

“So, what happened to the old lady who fed her?”

“Mrs. Spencer? I think she was committed to a psychiatric facility by her children.”

“Committed?” Jonah choked.

“Yes. Those kinds of things happened much more often back in those days.”

We all sat there quietly for several more moments, reflecting on the solved mystery of Lettie, then I stood. “Well, thank you, Dr. Thomlin. We appreciate you helping us.”

“No, thank you, boys. You’ve helped me remember a good friend today.”

“You’re welcome.”

We said our goodbyes then started for home.

“Can you believe it, dude?” Jonah said with excitement as we started on our way. “We finally figured out our mystery and we’re not going to get busted for murder!”

“Shut up.” I elbowed him. “But, yeah, it’s cool.”

It was cool. But something about Lettie had a firm grip on my mind and heart and wouldn’t let go. I wasn’t alive then, but it was as if I could remember her. But, why?

“And isn’t it so cool that she was a hero? I wonder if there was anything written about her in the paper or on the news. Maybe . . .”

That was it.

What wouldn’t let go of my mind.

My heart.

I glanced at Jonah, and without a word, took off for home like my feet were on fire.

The Savior

I
didn’t stop until I was home. I bypassed my mom cooking in the kitchen, didn’t even hear whatever she called to me about chores or what was for dinner. I had more important stuff to deal with.

I threw open my parents’ closet door and reached for my mom’s old shoebox full of memorabilia, photos, and newspaper clippings. I plopped down on her bed and dumped out the contents, sifting through the pile, knowing I’d recognize what I was after when I saw it.

Jonah came in a minute later. “Dude. What crawled up your butt?” But he didn’t wait for an answer before he approached the bed and looked over my shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Lookin’ for something.”

“Should you be in here? Won’t your mom get mad?”

I shrugged and kept sifting. Prom picture. Homecoming. Picture of me in a diaper—embarrassing. A clipping of an article about Mom and Dad’s wedding—now we were getting warm.

Bingo.

A yellowed newspaper article with a grainy picture of a baby being held by her mother with a forced smile. The caption read:
Toddler saved from drowning by stray dog.

I check the date. It matched up and my heart began to throb as adrenalin coursed through my veins. Holy cow. Could it be?

I glanced up to Jonah. His eyes were huge as he read the short article that told the story of a little girl who was swimming with her family, slipped under the water, began to drown, and was pulled out by a dog. No mention of her neglectful family or the dog’s fate.

He looked at me. “Is that . . ?”

“What do you think you’re doing? And
what
is this mess?” Mom said, frowning from the doorway, startling us both.

My guilty gaze flew to her. “Oh. Hi, Mom.”

She tilted her head, waiting for her explanation.

“Uh . . .”

Jonah just looked at me like ‘you’re on your own.’ What a good friend.

I glanced down at the article in my hand and realized for the first time in my life what fate and miracles were all about.

I looked back up at Mom. “You might wanna sit down for this.”

Mom and Dad stared at me from across the dining room table. Dinner had long since been eaten and the dishes cleared, though Mom’s creamed spinach—yuck—still scented the air. Jonah stayed to eat and we rushed through telling Mom everything we’d found out about Lettie. She didn’t say a word, and I wondered if she believed us. Maybe I was wrong, and the stupid article was just something my mom had kept for some other reason. Now, I was alone after Jonah had escaped up to my room and my Playstation, and the tension at the table had me feeling like a shaken up soda bottle, ready to explode. I wish my mom would just say something!