Thanks for Nothing (From the Files of Madison Finn, 5) (4 page)

Although the family parts of Thanksgiving between Mom and Dad still needed a little sorting out, the school parts seemed to be working out well—and this e-mail indicated that the volunteering would be good fun, too. Gramma Helen would say, “Don’t count your turkeys before they’re hatched.”

But these days, Madison Finn wanted to count on
everything.

“W
ELL, HIYA!” EILEEN SAID
when Madison walked into the clinic on the next day. “Are you ready to work?”

Madison could feel her face flush.
Ready?
She was readier than ready to meet and help each and every animal.

Eileen showed her to a back room where the cages were kept. Barks, squawks, growls, and whines came from every direction. There were mostly dogs doing all the talking, but Madison spotted a few other critters and birds who had something to say. A tabby cat was curled up in the corner of one cage with a cast on his leg. He couldn’t stop meowing.

“Poor Freddie. Wounded in a cat fight,” Eileen said, stroking Fred’s ears through the cage door. “He’s under a little medication. That’s why his eyes are all glassy and he’s so talkative. We’ll keep him sedated for a day or two until he has a chance to start healing.”

Eileen introduced Madison to other staff members and showed her around the clinic. Madison learned that the clinic “emergency room” was where the veterinarian on call would help an animal recover until its wounds healed. Like right now. Sometimes the animal brought in would be a family pet. But most of the time, the clinic dealt with strays and unwanted animals from the community.

Madison felt sad when she discovered just how many different animals were abandoned in Far Hills—even sweet cats like Fred.

Dr. Wing stepped into the room. He smiled at Madison and went over to the cage where the yellow Labrador retriever named Spanky lay awake, but breathing heavily. The dog had an anxiety disorder, so the doctor had given him a sedative to calm his nerves.

“Hey, Dr. Wing,” Madison said when he looked up. He looked a little different from the last time Madison had seen him, at the seventh-grade dance. There he had been wearing a costume.

“Hi, Madison,” Dr. Wing said. “Have you met the other volunteers?”

“Other volunteers?” Madison repeated. Was there a whole crowd of people squished together in the back?

“We have a lot of people doing different duties around here. You’ll meet them all at some point,” Dr. Wing explained.

Eileen pressed against the small of Madison’s back and pushed her gently. “Next stop, kennel room. Here we go, Madison.”

Madison’s five senses were overwhelmed once again as they passed into the new area. A woman with a red beehive hairdo and a lab coat with a tag that read
STAFF
smiled. The air smelled like wet dog.

As they passed into the place Eileen called the kennel, Madison eyed medicine cabinets crammed with jars and bottles. Technicolor posters of animal anatomy, a bulletin board covered with snapshots of posed pets, and overflowing barrels of kibble. It was impossible to see, smell, or hear everything at once.

Half the cages were filled with dogs in assorted shapes and sizes. Some had scars on their fur and skin. Some were fast asleep, others shaking with fear. Many barked at the slightest human movement. A homemade sign over the row of cages read
DOG POUND—TAKE ME HOME!

Dan was in the corner with an older man he called Mr. Wollensky.

Mr. Wollensky smiled. “Have you met our fam-il-eee?” he asked with a thick Russian accent. The dogs howled as he spritzed the hose around their cages.

“Madison, help me move some of these dogs. We have to wash out their cages,” Dan said, opening a cage door. A wirehaired dog was huddled, shaking, in a corner.

“Awww, she’s so cute,” Madison said, biting her lip as she tentatively moved toward the cage. She let the dog sniff her hand first, since she didn’t know if these dogs were friendly or not.

“Hello, Pepper.” Dan laughed. “Dr. Wing lets me name puppies sometimes when they come in nameless. I named her that because she made me sneeze.” Dan petted her head. “You can take Pepper out if you want.”

“Awww.” Madison smiled at the pup. “Don’t be scared.” She helped lift Pepper out of the cage and into a small pen to play with rubber chew toys until her cage was washed out.

Mr. Wollensky sprayed the hose more, and Madison got a little wet. It was fun to be helping out immediately after she arrived.

“Eileen?” Dr. Wing poked his head into the back room. “Dan, have you seen your mother? I need her help.”

Dan dashed off to find his mother. Madison wondered if Dan got to sit in on the medical examinations. He’d been working at the Far Hills Animal Shelter and Clinic since he was five. Madison had only been here for five minutes.

Madison reached down and picked up Pepper, who licked her face. “You’re a cutie pie. Pep.”

“Yip!” Pepper said, as if she understood.

While Mr. Wollensky continued to hose down the dog area, Madison helped transfer other dogs one by one into the waiting pen and then back into their cages. She read signs on their cages that listed their names, date of arrival, and medical condition if any.

Blinky, arrived October 15, abandoned, eye infection.

Blinky looked like he was crying nonstop, which Madison assumed accounted for his name. He lay there like a sack, breathing deep, paws crossed. Madison looked real close to make sure he was alive.

“That is sickie dog,” Mr. Wollensky said.

“Huh? What kind of dog is Blinky?” Madison asked.

He leaned in and adjusted his hearing aid. “I say sickie dog. Yes?”

Madison had trouble understanding Mr. Wollensky. His hearing problem and Russian accent made it hard to communicate with him. But he was very gentle. Mr. Wollensky seemed to love animals as much as Madison did.

Mr. Wollensky reached out for Madison’s arm. “You no touch these dog,” he cautioned her. “Bad dog.”

Pavlov, arrived September 30, neglected. Handle with care. Bites.

Pavlov growled from behind the bars. Mr. Wollensky explained in broken English about how he’d named this particular dog Pavlov after a
Russian
doctor who conducted special kinds of science experiments. Dr. Pavlov was a man who tested whether a ringing a bell could trigger a hunger response in his dog. It worked. Since then, conditioned responses were called Pavlovian responses.

Madison could barely understand what else Mr. Wollensky was saying, but she decided he was very nice. He introduced Madison to the remaining animals in cages, including a cat named Whisky that was going bald, a bulldog that was waiting to be spayed, and a hyperactive puppy named Kazoo.

“No become too attached,” Mr. Wollensky said. “Then you be sad when dog go.”

Madison told him getting attached wouldn’t be a problem.

“I already have a dog,” she explained to Mr. Wollensky. He just smiled and nodded and smiled. Madison figured he didn’t understand a word she was saying.

The clock on the kennel-room wall said it was almost time to head home, so Madison used the office phone to call Mom for her ride.

Mom wasn’t really talkative on the way home or even during dinner—take-out Chinese. She asked Madison to help fold laundry down in the basement, so they went downstairs together.

“Tell me again about the cute dogs,” Mom said after a few rounds of fold-the-bedsheets-and-towels.

Madison perked up. “Mom, I think volunteering was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. Ever.”

Mom sighed. “You do a lot of smart things, honey bear.”

Phinnie came clinking down the stairs. Madison and Mom turned to look at him. As he reached the bottom, he sat there a little lopsided, tongue hanging out, snorting like mad.

Mom sighed again. “Oh, I wish Thanksgiving could be different this year, sweetheart, I really do.”

“We—we don’t have to talk about that,” Madison stammered. “You seem sad.”

“The whole arrangement has been on my mind since Sunday. You seemed so disappointed with it just being us two for dinner,” Mom said. “I didn’t know what to say to you. I feel bad about it.”

Madison couldn’t believe her mom was being so honest.

“I’m so NOT disappointed. Mom,” Madison said, lying through her teeth.

Mom shrugged. “Well … to tell you the truth, Maddie, I am. I’m a little disappointed. I miss the family the way it was. I miss my family.”

Together, in silence, they folded one last fitted sheet, and then Madison went upstairs to go to sleep. Before she changed into her pajamas, Madison booted up her computer for an e-mail check, quietly so Mom wouldn’t hear.

Two e-mails flashed. Both came from real friends.

The first one distracted Madison a little from everything Mom had been talking about. It was from Egg, and his spelling was as bad as ever.

From: Eggaway


To: MadFinn


Subject: CLASS PROJECT


Date: Tues 7 Nov 7:31 PM


I have been thinkin about the project Mrs. Belden & thinkweshould do something about pligrims maybe. Like build a model. I found cool Websits that have infoand pictures. What do u think? LMK. Bye!!!


Bigwheels got in touch, too. Madison was so relieved.

From: Bigwheels


To: MadFinn


Subject: Gobble gobble


Date: Tues 14 Nov 9:18 P
M


You are way better at writing than me. The answer to your question is YES about Thanksgiving. We have sooooo many peeps for dinner. We live in a small house, so Mom and Dad and my aunts and uncles and us kids rent a hotel space for dinner. It is so weird. I think that last yr. there were like 86 of us. I didn’t even know them all and I’m related to them!!! My sisters were freaked, too. It makes you claustrophobic (did I spell that right? My spell check always changes words!!)


Don’t worry about your Thanksgiving because it will work out no matter where you are. We should be super thankful, right? You don’t need lots of people. Besides you have ME!!!


Yours till the turkey gobbles,


Bigwheels


p.s. Tell more about the animal shelter in ur next e-mail


Bigwheels was right. Madison closed her laptop and decided right then and there that she had to stop worrying about being alone with Mom on Thanksgiving. She had to stop worrying, period. The divorce had happened, and there was nothing to be done about it. No matter how hard she wished, nothing could bring Dad and Mom back together.

Madison suddenly thought about all the animals in the shelter, woofing and sniffling and giving her kisses. They seemed so lost and needy without their own families. Madison wondered: if she couldn’t change things with Mom and Dad, maybe she could help the animals instead?

Closing her eyes to sleep, Madison’s whole body warmed to the idea. She drifted to sleep counting … not sheep, but puppies.

Puppies and puppies and more puppies …

B
ETWEEN FOURTH AND FIFTH
period Madison met Aimee and Fiona in the second-floor girls’ bathroom. Since they didn’t always have class together, they’d try to steal some time in between classes, away from teachers and everyone else. They liked sneaking even just a few minutes of gossip and giggles.

Today Fiona was complaining a little about her social studies partner, Daisy Espinoza.

“She’s amazing at soccer,” Fiona said. “But she’s really not very good at this whole project thing.”

Aimee shrugged and leaned into the bathroom mirror. Madison watched her intently. Aimee was touching up her lip gloss.

“What do you guys think?” Fiona asked. “Should I ask to switch partners?”

“I don’t think you can,” Madison moaned. “Otherwise I would have done it already.”

“That’s not true,” Aimee said all of a sudden. “You got Egg as a partner. He’s a good match.”

“Yeah, well …” Madison shrugged.

“Egg is soooo cute,” Fiona grinned. “I mean … well, you know what I mean. …” She looked embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Fiona.” Madison laughed a little because she knew all about Fiona’s supercrush. Fiona acted so goofy whenever Egg’s name was even mentioned.

Madison hopped up to sit on the radiator next to the sinks. Thankfully, the heat wasn’t turned on full. A bell went off. They had three minutes before the next class period.

Aimee pinched her cheeks to make them pinker. She didn’t take her eyes off her reflection.

“Do you guys think Ben Buckley is cute?” Aimee asked softly.

Madison covered her mouth so she wouldn’t gasp with laughter, but she started to giggle.

Fiona bit her lip. “Are you serious?”

Aimee swirled around and asked her friends, “Why are you looking at me like that? Okay, I know Ben’s obnoxious, but …”

Before she could say another word, the bathroom door was flung open. Poison Ivy Daly and her drones buzzed inside. But Ivy stopped short when she saw Madison, Aimee, and Fiona.

By now, Madison was giggling out
loud.
Ivy was taken aback.

“Oh, I didn’t know this bathroom was dirty,” Ivy snarled, and turned on one heel as she led the way out the door.

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” Fiona said, acting a little spacey.

Madison made a face and stuck out her tongue behind Ivy’s back.

“When are you leaving for California, Fiona?” Aimee asked, as if the interruption had never happened.

Fiona beamed and tugged on her braids. “We leave in a week. I’m already packed.”

“Can you smuggle me in your luggage?” Madison joked.

Aimee offered Madison some gloss. It was called Shimmer, but Madison didn’t want any. She’d only chew it off, like she always chewed off lipstick and nail polish.

The second warning bell rang. They had to hurry.

As they exited the bathroom, the three girls almost smacked right into Hart and Dan, who were rushing off to class, too.

“Whoa,” Hart said, avoiding the collision. “Hey, Finnster …”